dark rafe stealing bimbo readers bikini tops bc “he doesnt like tan lines”
a last minute pick-up for a boat ride meant that there was no time to slip into your bathing suit before hopping onto the boat. so you nearly trip in slipping your legs through your bikini bottoms, already bent at the waist to rummage through your back. there's too many shades of pink in the bag, and you struggle to find the vibrant hot pink that matches the bottoms. "rafe?"
he doesn't hear you the first time, and you're forced to retreat from the safety of the bottom floor of the boat, hands strapped against your chest to hide from potential strangers. "rafe, have you seen my top anywhere? i think it fell out in your truck.. fuck."
rafe steps away from the steering wheel, already sipping at a beer. "hm?" he swallows and then stares. "nah, haven't seen it."
"you sure? it's quite bright," your eyes narrow when his lip quivers, too late to hide it behind another swig of beer. "you'd see it."
"everything you own is fucking pink, kid," he reminds you with a pointed look, and your shoulders drop. "and you leave your shit everywhere. the fuck am i supposed to know where it is?"
the top in question is shoved into the glove compartment near the wheel, and rafe quirks an eyebrow as if to dare you to argue. you pout. "well i can't go swimming then. i can't go in with nothing."
rafe shrugs. "don't see why not. besides, the tan lines are getting annoying."
a scowl pops up, and you don't try to wrestle it down. "really? you get to look at my tits every night and you're complaining about tan lines?"
rafe sets his drink down, reaching down to pull off his polo tee. "don't like 'em. let 'em tan naturally." his heels thunk noisely against the floor when he walks over, hands pulling away your own.
"see?" he says in a whispery, gravelly tone, finding your lips in a chaste, fleeting kiss. "look how pretty they look," he pinches a nipple lightly between his fingers and you mewl. "they deserve some sunlight, don't you think?"
she’s been clingy all day and rafe gets tired of it and yells at her then she cries, he comes to apologize by eating her out!!
"alright, get the fuck off," he twines, shaking you off the crooked arm you're looped around. "i need to get work done, and you're not helping. can you give me some space, please? jesus christ."
with a huff and a straightening of his spine, rafe returns his attention to his dimly-lit screen computer screen, the contents of which long lost in your memory. you're immediately frowning, blinking back the threat of tears that tickle at your waterline. you pick at the fraying end of your old sweatshirt when you slide off the edge of the bed, bare feet cold against the hardwood. "okay.. i'm just gonna go the bathroom."
the sorrowful tone with which you speak is enough to have rafe burying his face in his hands, an annoyed groan quickly chasing after the action. he rubs tiredly at his eyes before he moves upward to his eyebrows and then up to his hairline, until he's tugging at the short strands of hair. "stop that, come here," he commands, glancing up at your retreating figure through blurry eyes.
you pause at the doorframe, turning around and wriggling a toe into the junction between the transition strip and wood. "i just have to.. pee. and then i should head home, that's all. i have to feed my cat and everything, so..."
rafe closes the laptop, tossing it onto the edge of the bed so that he can fully lounge on the mattress. he tucks a hand underneath the weight of his skull, using his free hand to beckon you closer. "i said come here. don't make me repeat myself."
you return to his side with heavy feet, fingers wrestling snakes behind your back. "i don't want to be a burden anymore, today, rafe. i should just go home. don't worry about it."
rafe rolls his eyes near-immediately, reaching out to latch onto your wrist before you have the chance to turn around again. "i'm sorry, okay?" he starts, pulling you into his side so that he can press an awkward kiss against your clothed bicep. "i'm sorry. i was a dick, i know that. just come here, i don't want you to leave."
you blink back the next layer of tears that portend their descent, slowly accepting and leaning into his embrace. "i'm sorry," he continues, placing a wet kiss against a hidden junction underneath your jaw. "just stay, please?"
you comply, with a heavy sigh, easing into the bed next to him and tucking yourself rightfully at his side. "i don't want to bother you, though. you have stuff to do."
he rolls you over him, however, so that you're planted on his other side on your back. "yeah, i have stuff to do, what about it?"
he hooks his fingers into the bands of your sleep shorts and panties, drawing the fabric down your quivering thighs. "do you have a problem with that? is that okay?" he poses, tossing the discarded clothing onto the floor beside the bed. "but i just need a quick snack, and it may be the only way to show you how sorry i am, baby."
you nod, albeit hesitantly, when he pries your sticky thighs apart, teeth already sinking into the supple flesh of your inner thigh. "yeah?" he confirms, smoothing his hands over the delicate surface. "well i'm sorry, princess. don't ever leave, alright? want you close forever."
super touchy handsy rafe we know hes not a soft man but i think his weakness lies in the fact that hes clingy like always needs to be touching you in some way (hand on your back/thigh, fiddling with your fingers, untucking your hair from behind your ears mid conversation just always touching to the point where he doesnt even realize hes doing it okay) and if he cant be touching you like in a public setting hes NOT pleased about it and watching you like a hawk he just wants to be close to his girl >:( like you cant even get up to use the bathroom without being met with a furrowed brow and him reaching for your hand and being like hey where you goin
would die for soft clingy crybaby!reader but clingy asshole rafe cameron is very important to me
no because i crraAAAVE THIS TO NO EXTENT
there's an echoing in your ears when you take a sip from the chilled wine glass, the expensive beverage leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. ward is on the other end of the table, chatting a bit too loudly with an old friend, the pad of his right forefinger circling the rim of his crystal whiskey glass. the open balcony window to your left is allowing a chilly draft to circle in, and goosebumps are starting to pimple their way up your bare legs.
however, rafe's warm hand is a solace against your thigh, calloused fingers pushing softly into the pillowy flesh as he observes his father with a furrowed brow. your own fingers are plucking at the friendship bracelets twined around his wrist, weathered and fraying at the edges from months of nonstop usage. "want me to go get that extra spoon they forgot about?" you question blindly, placing down the wine glass and turning cheek to find his worried expression. "figured i could just go up and ask."
one thigh slips off the other from their crossed position, and his grip tightens some, until it's easing up, dragging up and down the muscle to rid of the evidence of your chill. "don't worry, they'll come soon. you don't have to go. here-" he raises a free hand, flagging down a nearby server who's balancing far too many ceramic plates on his tray, the fine china clinking together.
"no!" you gripe in a hushed whisper, reaching over his lap to grapple for the raised appendage, bracing your weight with a hand against his thigh.
he grunts with the sudden firm pressure, dropping the arm to only slip it around your shoulders, drawing you in close to bury his nose into the top of your head, dropping a kiss there. "he's already coming, alright? don't worry about it,"
with another strained grunt, he's easing your applied pressure off his lap and straightening you back up in your chair, keeping an arm curled around your shoulders. "he's busy," you huff with exaggerated exasperation, eyeing the slice of lemon sorbet that you've been waiting too long to eat. "i don't want to make him go out of his way."
an annoyed eye-roll later, and rafe's adjusting his tightening fabric of his slacks. "that's his job, kid. let him do it."
heyy so what do you think about rafe x inexperienced reader?? Like the reader is just shy and doesnt know how t do anything. Rafe having to teach her everything like even giving him a hickey coz I'd go absolutely FERAL
rafe can feel his heartbeat jump up into his throat, screaming in the confined space for your hands to move, for your thighs to shift further apart, for your doe-eyed expression to just soften. your hips jolt forward under his hands, and his thumb slips from your protruded lip. "it's simple, babe," he catches it again, and your eyebrows knit together. "and i'm a tough guy, huh? you don't gotta worry about being gentle."
your tongue darts out, drifting over the trimmed fingernail and chase it with a tepid nod. "but you're always gentle." your hands coast over the purpling across your throat, eyebrows relaxing again.
"that's cause you'll break, princess." rafe pushes at your chin, tilting your head back so he can ghost a kiss over the healing bite. "i have to be gentle with my special girl, don't i?"
you nod once again, and rafe takes the opportunity to lean his head back this time, settling his skull against the headboard of his bed. "just like i taught you, babe."
you pull away the hand that captured your jaw, delving into his own to press a docile kiss there. your tongue makes another experience, wetting the stubble that he needs to shave down again. your lips seal around the marking, suckling at the sensitive flesh under it rumbles with a raptured groan from the male underneath you.
you shift on his lap again, fingers twisting around the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling at the short strands in your fervor. you drift downward, drawing bruises in your trail. "you wanna know something?" the man echoes underneath you, his hands draping around the small of your back and drawing you closer into his chest.
you hum against his adam's apple, peppering gentle kisses against it as it bobs with a thick swallow. "these can go anywhere you want them to, hm?" he purls, and you retract with swollen limbs slathered in eager saliva.
you lick over them, expression a confused one. "anywhere?"
he nods, throat throbbing from its attack. a hand travels around your pelvis, before long fingers smooth over your clothed mound, teasing between your legs until he applies a gentle pressure against your clit. "mmhm. anywhere."
rafe x gf!reader hanging out at his place and his toddler sister won't leave them alone but reader loves it because she's so cute 🥹
the scruff of a five o'clock shadow brushes against your thumb when you draw rafe in closer, noses knocking against each other when he goes to chase after the taste of your tongue once again. he huffs out a breath of air out of his nose when you whine into his mouth, fingernails scraping at his scalp. your lips are inevitably swollen, saliva dribbling out from the corner of your lips when you slide into his lap, sitting down on the aching bulge that pushes out from his unbuckled slacks, grinding with only the thin layer of your panties in the way.
"love this shirt," he grumbles against your mouth, thumbs melding into the bulge of your pelvic bones.
he's referring to the spillage of your breasts from the revealing t-shirt you're wearing, cleavage demolishing his need for imagination and delving headfirst into porno territory. of course, it had been for his eyes only, but it didn't stop the immediate twitching of his dick between his legs when you had stepped out of the bathroom to show it off.
however, before he can manage to wrangle with the button of your skirt to better wrestle it up your hips, there's a patter of tiny fists against his door. "oh jesus christ," he grouses against your cheek when you pull away.
"oh be nice," you admonish through a heavy breath, easing off his lap to adjust your clothing. "she just wants to spend time with you."
rafe groans, falling back onto the bed to run his hands over his exasperated expression. "she always fuckin' does this! why can't we go to your place or something?"
another eye roll from you, and you're opening the door, allowing the young girl to come barreling in with art pieces bundled in her fists. "rafe! rafe!" she gasps, excited, struggling in her ascent onto the bed. "look what i made at school today!"
you close the door once more, joining the pair and slipping into a free spot next to the male. "wow, you did this all by yourself?" you gasp in exaggerated wonder, taking the crumpled pieces of paper, which are splattered with finger paintings of various shapes and sizes. "these are incredible! i think we've got a van gogh on our hands, huh?"
the compliment soars over her head when she crawls over her brother's chest, poking her fingers into his jaw to get him to reveal his face. "uh huh!" she affirms, flashing her missing teeth. "we did it in art!"
rafe hums, taking a painting that you're offering him and taking a quick pass at it. "looks great, kid," he sighs, handing it back to the kid. "daycare was good?"
"school," she corrects with a scowl, unpleased with the categorization of herself into something other than actual education, regardless of his correct statement. "but yeah!"
"great." he snips, nearly groaning when she accidentally rolls over onto his lap. he shoves her off, albeit gently, and rises to go to the bathroom to fix himself up. "hey, listen, how about you go show dad, alright? sure he'd love it. we'll see you later, alright?"
"rafe!" you hiss in a whisper. "she can spend time with us.. i think it'll be fun!"
he clicks on the bathroom light, not bothering to turn around to answer you. "tell that to this thing you've left me with. it'll take forever to go down."
mean!rafe coming home to find innocent!reader wearing nearly nothing bc she's doing laundry very thoroughly and it drives him crazy <3 love u isa
you hate doing laundry, and he knows it. he knows that you'll let the dirty pile grow until it's spilling over the lip of the basket, and you're beginning to compile a larger heap beside it. it's just the two of you, sure, but you two go through enough laundry to mimic that of a six-member family.
a ragged t-shirt, with a characteristic hole in its neckline and fraying at the ends, is loose around your throat, and around your thighs, as you fold what seems to be an endless supply of bathing suits and shorts.
rafe had run out for a minute, his location unknown, but those circumstances are not atypical, and you forgo any lingering feelings of boredom with an episode of bojack in the background. "hey, kid," a voice gripes behind you, and you're quick to place a pile of clothing in his now-outstretched arms. "there you go."
"fuck's this?" he pushes it back, and you're tossing it back onto the bed to be dealt with later.
worry-lines sprout along your forehead. "laundry. what else? wasn't it your turn?"
"hm." he denies, curling around your shoulder to press a chafe kiss against your cheekbone. "that why you're dancing around like a little slut?" he wrestles into his pocket to toss his wallet and keys onto his desk.
"there's nothing to wear!" you scoff, turning back to the basket to resume your task. "if you had just done the laundry, like i asked you to last week-"
rafe slouches into his desk chair, rubbing the side of his forefinger over his chin while his brows pinch in a focused guise. "and miss this? i don't think so, sweetheart. do a little spin for me, won't you?"
"you're such a horn dog," you toss another sock into a pile of those missing a pair. "perv."
rafe scowls, now, and readjusts his position, using his free hand to tease at his belt buckle. "come on, don't make me ask again, will you? turn around, and bend over while you're at it. i think you dropped a sock."
