oh, how you loved raising rafe’s water bill as you stood in the hot stream of water for hours. it made your body and muscles loosen.
calm down.
perks of having a rich boyfriend, you guess. (not that you relied on him—you were a lady; you could handle your expenses very well, even if you would get your card robbed by rafe and your wallet replaced with his card—and maybe, well, a good spank afterward if you spent too much of your own.)
you could hear some shuffling here and there from outside the bathroom—probably rafe back from his golf date with his other lover.
fucking topper.
yes, that’s how you worded it before he left this morning. might as well be topper’s boyfriend if he’d rather play golf with him than spend time with you shopping online.
before you know it, he’s inside the bathroom, grumbling about the amount of steam.
“you like taking showers in hell in your private time?” he says with a frown on his pretty face as he starts undressing.
throwing him a glare, you open the shower door a little to see his face—and he can see your glare.
“fuck off, raphael.” pity? yes. overdramatic? yes. but let’s not talk about that.
before you could curse him some more in your head, he’s walking over, joining you in the shower. naked. god, you were never gonna get over how fucking good he looks.
he wraps both large arms around your waist tightly, his face right into your neck, prepping it with kisses—and you melt—
wait, no, you’re still mad.
“wrecked my wallet enough with your shopping today?” he mumbles into your neck while massaging your waist.
“extra today because you left, asshole.” you aggressively turn around, grabbing some shampoo, washing his head as he looks at you with this loving, dreamy gaze.
oh, how he loved his dramatic girl.
“i had to go, baby—topper’s dad had to talk to me about somethin” he sighs as you massage his head.
“awhh then i guess you didn’t get to spend a lot of time with your boyfriend, huh?” you say.
“c’mon, baby, you know it’s not like that. i can barely tolerate the fucker.” he quickly gets under the water, washing his head, then positions his face back into your neck, putting your arms around his neck.
when you don’t say anything, he knows the drill by now.
“i’m sorry, forgive me, my love. won’t happen again.” he pulls back, leaving tiny kisses on your chest and collarbone.
“fine. on your knees then.” you glare at him still. it’d take a whole lot of spoiling and kisses and quality time to get you to fully forgive him—and he knew that.
but for now, he just got on his knees with a shit-eating grin, putting all his loving where his mouth is, ’cause his sugar-talking wasn’t gonna work tonight.
you woke up as he kissed you, soft at first, almost sweet. but his hand was already sliding down your body, his rough fingers slipping between your thighs before you were fully awake. you made a sleepy sound, trying to cuddle into him, and that's when you felt it, the cold press of silicone against your clit.
"rafe?" your voice came out confused.
"shhh baby," he murmured against your neck, clicking the vibrator on low. "just let me."
you moaned before you could help it, your body responding to the sudden pleasure. he pushed inside you slow, filling you up while the toy buzzed against your sensitive and swollen clit. it felt good, too good, and you were already clenching around him. "fuck, rafe, that's—"
"i know, honey." he cut you off with a kiss, starting to move inside you. "that's the point." the pleasure built fast. too fast. your hands gripped his shoulders as your back arched, and you came with a broken cry, your walls fluttering around his cock. but he didn't stop. he kept fucking you, kept the vibrator pressed right where you needed it least.
"wait, wait—" you gasped, trying to push his hand away. "it's too much, rafey."
"no it's not." he pinned your wrist above your head, his pace never slowing. "you can take it."
your second orgasm crashed built inside you before the first had fully faded. tears slipped down your cheeks as you shook beneath him, a loud moan came out of you. he watched you fall apart, his eyes dark and hungry, and he didn't let up. "r-rafe, seriously please, i can't—"
"you're gonna." he pressed harder with the vibrator, fucking you deeper. "you're gonna keep coming for me until i say stop."
your pussy was soaked, making wet squelching sounds with every thrust. you were already overwhelmed, oversensitive, and he was right, he made you come again, a third time, your body jerking through it as a sob broke from your lips.
"good girl." but he didn't even slow down. his hips kept slapping against yours, the vibrator never leaving your clit. you were shaking so hard you could barely breathe, every nerve inside of you on fire.
"please, rafe, please stop, i can't, i can't do another one" you begged, your voice cracking. tears were streaming down your face now, and you tried to move away, but his weight pinned you down. "yes, yes you can, baby." his voice was low, almost gentle, but his eyes were cold. "you're doing so good for me. just one more. give me one more."
"no, no, please" you sobbed, but your body betrayed you. the fourth orgasm ripped through you again, violent and uncontrollable. you screamed into his shoulder, your nails digging into his back as you shook around his cock. "that's it." he groaned, fucking you through it. "that's my girl."
you were a total mess. soaked, shaking, crying. every muscle in your body was tense, and the vibrator felt like fire against your clit. but he still didn't stop. he turned the toy up a notch. "rafe, no! i swear i can't—" you barely choked out, trying to clamp your thighs shut. he forced them open with his knees.
"you can and you will." he thrust harder, faster. "you're gonna come on my cock until i'm satisfied." the fifth one came without any warning, a sharp and painful surge of pleasure that made your vision go white. you couldn't even scream anymore, just a broken whimper as your body tensed up, pussy clenching so tight it almost hurt him. rafe groaned, pace finally faltering.
"fuckkk, there you go." he pressed down on the vibrator, grinding it against you as he came inside you, hot and thick. you felt every pulse of his release, your oversensitive cunt milking him dry.
when he finally pulled out and turned off the toy, you were limp, gasping, tears still wet on your cheeks. he kissed your forehead, soft and possessive. he smiled down at you, a perfect mess, all wrecked just for him. "see, baby? you can take it."
𓂃✍︎ bf!rafe dealing with you squirming during sex . . .
summary: perhaps it was the fact that he was thrusting in a terribly fast and harsh pace, but you just couldnt seem to be able to stay still.
content: smut, dom!rafe with a lot of manhandling + talking you thru it, piv, positions change; missionary to doggystyle.
Both of your weeks ended like every sweet couples' usually do; using the last bits of your staminas just to get a satisfying release that'll clear out your heads from the long, tiring day. The word release, in this case, meaning sex till you're damn near breaking the bedframe.
That night, Rafe was being particularly rough, choosing the missionary position like he always does whenever he felt the desire to be the one 'in charge', placing wet, open-mouthed kisses around your neck while the sound of your moans fills his ear, his favorite melody.
Perhaps it was the fact that he had not only a tiring day but also a somewhat bad one, needing and chasing this satisfaction more than ever with his hips thrusting at a terrifyingly fast pace, practically slamming again and again into you while his fingers were grabbing onto your hips so tight it might even bruise your skin. His hands were a guide to your hips so you too were moving against him.
"Oh fuck... just like that..." he grunted, panting into your ear as he fasten his pace even more, your hips shoved together.
The problem isn't that you didn't like it, oh you fucking enjoyed it. Instead, the problem is the fact that you were a squirmy person, barely able to keep your limbs still as he drives his cock in and out of your pussy rapidly.
Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into his burning skin, only to let go and grip onto the sheets instead, not even knowing what to hold onto anymore. Your back arched, hips stuttering frantically in his hold, making his control on your hips movement a tad difficult, meanwhile your toes curled with your legs restless and your head thrown back over the pillow.
A moan escapes your throat, loud and desperate, "Fu- mm.. fuck!" You gasped, "S-so fast! I... I can't- please!" You pleaded with him, your shaky hands reaching for his wrists to try and pull them off your hips.
"You can, baby... I know you can..." Rafe assured you with ragged breath, his voice incredibly calm for someone who's raging cock is pounding into you, "Shit... stop moving, can you?"
He let out a grunt, patience growing thinner with each movement you made, which then led him to grabbing your wrists with one hand and pinning them up above your head on the pillow.
With your hands stuck on that position, you could only arch your back and move your legs as the tip of his cock kept on hitting all the right spots to make your toes curl even more. It might just be your favorite feeling in the whole wide world.
"Stop moving around, baby..." Rafe groaned, feeling your tits pressed against his chest due to how much you were arching your back, his ears filled with your desperate, mumbled, and frantic pleas. "I know, I know... You can take it, okay? Just... ah fuck..." He whispered, ragged breath and moans of his own filled your ears.
Yet now with only one hand on your hip, it was harder to guide them to move against his when your just kept on squirming and wriggling, so much that his dick managed to slip out once. Which to Rafe, once was plenty.
Rafe let out another groan, "Goddamnit!" He took his hands off your wrists– only to flip you over onto your stomach, hands guiding your hips to be lift up to provide him with your ass in the air, "Fuck... hold on, baby..." He cooed, as if as a silent apology.
As he thrusted back into you hard and deep, his hands held your wrists behind your back tightly, the slight grin on his face showed how he was assured that now you weren't gonna move as much. Not even gonna be loud, not with your flushed face pressed against the pillow, surely.
"Ra... Rafe..." You managed to moan against the pillow, eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool pooling onto the white pillow case. The position you were in had the least possibility to squirm around, only able to wiggle your fingers.
Rafe just kept on pounding into you, longing to feel those walls squeeze around him and hear the loudest and dirtiest moan leave your swollen lips, to know you were satisfied with the night just as much as he was. And while he's at it, he was still busy holding your wrists together, keeping your roaming hands still from clawing onto him.
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ When you enter the Love Island villa as a bombshell, you spark an instant, high-stakes connection with the intense and complicated Rafe Cameron. As you navigate each others web of secrets, messy betrayals, and jealous rivals, you must decide if your undeniable chemistry is a genuine match or just a casualty of the game...
WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, smut, mentions of past relationships, suggestive content, mentions of addiction, circumstantial cheating/infidelity, general LI drama, arguments, mentions of mental health, drinking, more detailed warnings for each individual chapter
SERIES TAG NAV‧₊˚ #fic analysis☀️ | #sotb | #mailbox:sotb | #the bombshell files
some quick (kinda important) notes
EPISODES
The Deep End (Day 1+2) | tweets
2. Muggy Mornings and Moonlit Pasts (Day 3+4) | tweets
3. Receipts and Recouplings (Day 5+6) | tweets
4. Do For Love (Day 7+8) | tweets
5. Va Va Voom (Day 9+10) | tweets
6. Is There Someone Else? (Day 11+12) | tweets
7. My Moon My Man (Day 12 cont.) | tweets
8. Fire In My Heart (Day 13+14) | tweets
9. Ex's & Oh's (Day 15+16) | tweets
10. We Never Dated (Day 17+18) | tweets
11. Do I Wanna Know? (Day 19+20) | tweets
12. I Need Your Love (Day 21+22) | tweets
13. Misery Business (Day 23) | tweets
14. Your New Home (Day 24) | tweets
15. Here [Instrumental] (Day 25+26) | tweets
16. Bleed (Day 27+28) | tweets
17. Is It A Crime (Day 29+30) | tweets
18. Cinderella (Day 31+32) | tweets
19. Blue (Day 33)
20. Letter Home (Day 34)
21. Ain't No Mountain High Enough (Day 35)
22. Welcome Back, Islanders (The Reunion)
WHERE ARE THEY NOW? >>
EXTRAS
TR's Style Board
The (OG) Girls
The (OG) Guys
AFTERSUN : Ruthie
💣Meet Rima
💣Meet Miles
AFTERSUN : Topper
The Casa Girls
The Casa Guys
AFTERSUN : The Unchosen (Delaney, Winnie, Thomas, Brandon, and Mattheo)
warnings/tags mdni 18+. smut. pilatesprincess!reader. failed cock warming hehe. super nonchalant from both parties. mentions of a hard on/being turned on. theyre lowkey both freaks. videoing themselves. raw, p in v, fingering if you squint
you always sat on his lap, didnt matter where you were. restaurants were an exception, finding sitting beside each other had to be enough. you became a part of him whenever he found himself in a chair, gravitating towards it as if he subconsciously told you.
there was nothing more comfortable than fitting perfectly in your boyfriends lap, so thats where you were headed.
already showered for the evening, your hair styled and clothes picked out for the morning- you walked into the living room where rafe was sat on the floor in front of the puzzle. he leaned back gently, you coming and sitting on his lap.
he held his nose on your shoulder, "you smell good." mumbling while leaning around you and fitting the puzzle piece. you sipped from your water bottle, looking at the television playing the third season of yellowstone. "we should get a ranch." you spoke softly while setting down your water and situating yourself on his lap.
rafe chuckled, holding a hand to your bare thigh, feeling the cotton of your cheeky underwear. "i think youd enjoy it for a week and then hate it." he answered, removing his hand and holding both arms around you.
you leaned into his chest, crossing your legs and feeling the muscle under his. he would move you if it ever became uncomfortable, so far only twice hes asked.
your body raised higher than usual with his inhale, and you looked from the side of your eye, brows furrowing loosely. he continued the puzzle, humming gently under his breath. "this one" you sat up again, reaching for the piece and handing it to him, leaning forward and pointing to the open spot.
he set it in the spot, pushing down on it with a pointer finger. you uncrossed your legs and sat up quickly, stepping over rafes arm and running to the kitchen on your toes.
coming back with a bowl, "i got this recipe from malia," you said while he held his arm out again and you sat down. holding a chocolate covered blueberry for rafe, he leaned forward and wrapped his lips messily around your fingers.
you giggled, scrunching your nose up and wiping your hand on his shirt. "oh god," he made a face, holding a hand to cover his mouth. "semi-sweet, sorry." you told him, with wide eyes before shoving a handful in your mouth.
you kept the bowl in your lap, facing the television again but with a straightened back. it wasnt long before you were just as invested in the puzzle, feet on the floor and knees bent, still sat on rafes lap who has had a boner since she fit the first piece.
you repositioned, bending your knees so they were on the sides of rafes hips. his mouth about fell open, "jesus christ-" coughing while he pulled his arms back and held them on your hips. you hummed under your breath, posture still unbelievably perfect, and rested your elbows on the coffee table.
half paying attention to the show and half focused on finishing the puzzle. you tucked your feet into his sides as if on instinct, sitting up and leaning forward. rafes hands were still on your hips when you bent over. "can we try something?" he blurted, voice raising an octave higher.
"what?" you asked, still looking at the grouped ones at other side. "you wanna just," he took a pause, "sit on it?" you furrowed your brows, looking over your shoulder to your boyfriend whose eyes hadnt left your ass. "sit on it?" you asked, he humming in response.
nodding, "just sit on it." pulling his bottom lip into his mouth as his hands palmed the back of your thighs. "sure."
"wait, really?"
you looked at him, "yeah?" asking as if he wasnt the one to suggest it in the first place. turning your head in front of you again, you let him guide your hips down. you held a piece between your fingers while resting your back against his chest.
you stared at the tv, arms slightly raised and knees spread while you slowly sank down on him. he held a hand to your hip and one around your waist, head pressed to the side of your torso.
a quiet moan passed your throat when he bottomed out, you sitting perfectly on his lap again before clenching your torso to sit yourself up again. he kept his eyes screwed shut, not knowing how long he honestly would last.
you were so warm, so comfortable and so at home. you clenched around him, feeling your heartbeat race faster. you swallowed deeply, rafe leaning around you again to continue.
minutes pass before you reached for your phone, the slight movement caught rafes throat while you sunk back on him easily. your nails clicked against your screen, pausing while thinking of the rest of your response. the more you sat with him inside you, doing everyday things, the more he felt his control slip.
you leaned back, leaning against his chest again and feeling him hit deeper. he held his breath, he should have known better with how much youre constantly moving anyways. he lifted a hand, holding the side of your face and tracing his thumb over your lips.
tapping his fingers on the table while feeling you kiss the pad of his thumb, keeping your lips puckered. you turned your phone landscape, pressing your thumb on the record button. rafe gave a sweet smile to the screen before reaching for your phone.
he flipped the camera, leaning back before gently pushing your hips up, recording you coming off of him before he flipped the camera to himself again and rolled his hips up to meet yours. giggling under his breath from the moan that slipped past a hand over your mouth.
he saved the video, deleted it off of snapchat, locked your phone and fisted the shirt you wore. your eyes widened, knowing exactly what was coming when he held the side of your underwear with his thumb and thrusted back into you.
your eyes rolled and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. hips raising and him following, over and over, until he pulled your arm back and you hit into his chest again. hand holding the side of his head while you rolled your hips lazily into his. his fingers gripped your hip, other hand reaching for your phone again.
he pulled up the camera, keeping it on the both of you. he held your chin with his hand, arm wrapped around your neck gently. you stopped your movements, looking up at the camera when he lifted his arm, showing you sat spread on his lap.
tilting your chin to the side, he found you in a messy open-mouthed kiss. bringing the phone back to the two of you. your arm was still raised behind him, his arm still around your neck while his tongue shoved deep into your mouth. you raised your hips, bouncing on him gently before he pulled away from you.
he set the phone down, folding your legs in front of you and coming up on his knees. at his hard thrust forward, he set the phone up against your water-bottle. bent over the coffee table with your arms extended out. rafes thumb tucked into your mouth, and eyes comfortably shut as he rammed into you.
"oh my god, oh my god," you moaned past his thumb, throwing your head down and whining while you squeezed your legs tighter. he fell backwards again, pulling your hips with him.
you were in an awkward position, hands holding the edge of the coffee table, back arched and legs tucked tight together. rafe sunk himself into you again and it took the breath from your lungs. profanities leaving your mouth as your shoulders sagged.
he rolled his hips into yours, knocking his head back against the couch while feeling his abs tighten. "im gonna cum, baby," he warned.
you took over, lifting your hips and slamming back down into him. the noises were enough to get him off, you making them was even better. you tucked your forehead, shielding your face you knew was scrunched tight at pleasure.
"fucking shit" rafe cursed, legs trembling while you snatched the phone and lifted it up. his head was still thrown back, your hips coming up and slamming down hard. another string of curses before he pushed you down onto him and pushed as hard as he could into you.
he gasped when you clenched around him, feeling his fingers dig deep into your hip.
you passed the phone to him, turning it to your back while you slowly pulled out of him. you moaned again feeling his cum drip out of you. pulling your bottom lip between your teeth when feeling his fingers slowly push into you.
"such a clean girl until it comes to me," he purred, flicking his fingers inside you. you gasped loudly, holding a hand over your mouth. "scream for me, baby," he said through a chuckle. "shut the fuck up." he pushed his fingers harder into you, angling them deeper.
"fuck, fuck," you cried while feeling your high come. rafes mouth opened, feeling how much of him spilled out of you at your own orgasm. coating his fingers and slipping down his hand. he leaned back, showing the camera his view before slowly shaking his head.
"god- i love it when youre nasty." he groaned, palming your ass while you made it to your feet. "i need another shower."
summary: Rafe is never coming back to one of these.
word count: 3.7k (i got carried away w the fights lmao)
warning: language. talks about past-relationship. talk about a deceased father. parents fighting against each other. something else? probably. (as always English isn't my first language so apologies for any possible grammatical error).
author's note: thank you guys for all the love w everything i posted about this AU 😭 i hope you like this one bc i had fun writing lollllll. i'm so excited to explore this dynamic.
also should i make a tag list ?! a few people asked me
EX-HUSBAND!RAFE MASTERLIST.
Rafe Cameron.
Your dear ex-husband for two years now (the divorce anniversary was last week, not that you've been counting) and you have to meet up again for your kids' school conference, the ones Rafe normally doesn't assist because he's working, always saying he has some major deal to deal with that falls casually on the same day these meetings do, but you forced him to come today. There's no way you're going through this hell all alone one more fucking time.
There he is, standing in all his glory while typing on his phone. Office suit still on, but he keeps it open and makes sure that his tie is still well done. He knows how much you've always liked to see him all sharp. You tried not to look more than two seconds and hide behind your sunglasses.
You sighed at the sight and decided to think nothing of it while you clutched the purse in you shoulder, one that Rafe bought you years ago. Beautiful, designer, expensive. It's your favorite.
He looked up when he heard footsteps, he could recognize those heels anywhere. "Hey, baby." He said all too natural to his ex-wife and mother of his two kids. You, like this is just part of the routine gave half of a wave, clearly wanting to be out of this place as soon as possible.
"Hey." You said lazily and you kissed cheeks as a greeting, pushing your sunglasses up your head. You have told yourselves that this is way too engraved in your habits to take it out of them, so you don't waste your time on trying to be any different.
You're still annoyed, you haven't really been able to stand to be next to each other without sensing some form of irritation, but you're really trying your best here. You forced yourself to come here today because you know this is out of his usual events and you just can't wait to pick on him. The last time he picked up your kids you told them, on purpose, in front of them that you guys had a parents conference to attend to.
And he really couldn't say no when you put him in that position.
You sighed, brushing some expensive well done hair out of your face and gestured the school building. "Let's go." You walked inside the school with all the other parents, your heels clicking against the floor. Always so loud and demanding. He followed behind, eyes still on his phone as he walked next to you.
Typical.
You rolled your eyes and he didn't even have to look up to know that you did. He rolled his eyes too because after so long you do start getting similar with each other, he put his phone down, putting it in the pocket of his suit pants. And he adjusted his cufflinks, one of your gifts that you brought for him years ago when you were in Paris for work. They were gold (you wear gold, so he obviously started to do it as well), along with a delicate engraving.
You notice them. It's almost on purpose, the way you keep wearing each other's gifts around the other one without a single care. As if saying yes, your gift was good, the divorce won't change that.
He took a chance to look around, the last time he really been here was... probably when he graduated. I mean, he didn't even make it inside when it was your kids' first day of kindergarten (you know, emotional crying and all that bullshit), so it was a bit odd to be back. "No way they still have that fuck-ass water dispenser—" He noticed as he walked past.
You raised your eyebrows, unimpressed with his comment as you kept your walk fast, watching all the other parents also arriving at the meeting, some older couples and some people you didn't know. You felt some eyes on you. This was probably the first time at the school of you and Rafe walking together since the divorce. And if there's something about Outer Banks, people for sure like to talk.
"You look good." He commented under his breath. Not flirty, not really sweet either. Just... true, as if the fact that he noticed at all pisses him off.
But you rolled your eyes. "Save it." You scoffed, not taking him seriously anymore.
"Just sayin' how it is."
You groaned internally when you finally arrived the classroom where the meeting was being held. You stepped inside and stopped when Rafe stopped his walking on the door. "What?" You asked.
"Here? In the kids room?" He asked, already looking around the place.
Is he really so out of touch?
"Yes." You said like it was obvious. Because it was. "Where else is it gonna be?"
"I don't know, a place where they have chairs my ass actually fit into." He walked past you as he finally went inside, choosing the desk closest to the door in case he needed to escape at some point. But he knows you won't allow it. You had to laugh at that, the chuckle that escapes you admits just how right he was.
He grabs the back of one chair and pulls it back for you, offering you the place like he has always done. You gave him a stoic look and take the chair out of his hold and you sit yourself in it.
He sighs. "C'mon, honey. Can you cut me some slack?" He murmured. Words dripping with the right amount of charm (and sarcasm) to make you both nostalgic and enraged. "Been a long week."
He rolled his eyes and made a mental note on to count how many times he did it by the end of this goddamn circus.
"Ugh, tell me about it." You agreed with a groan as you rested your ching on top of your hand, looking around.
"What, full of idiots?"
"Full of them. Oh, my God—" You said in disbelief.
"Yeah, I bet."
He sat down, being obviously too big to fit into the kids' sized desk. Why is this meeting even happening here? This big ass school that has a very expensive tuition has an auditorium where these things can be held. Do they do it here because... it'll make you more empathetic? They think you'll think about how your kid feels in the same classroom? Or really they're just lazy people that only use the auditorium in especial occasions.
"Fucking kindergarten setup." He complained, uncomfortably moving in the tiny desk like a caged animal, knees spread too wide for the space (which you're definitely trying not to touch with yours). He was uncomfortable, so naturally, the arm that couldn't fit in place was stretched along the back of your chair. And you pretended you didn't feel the warmth emanating from him. Or his perfume.
You watched the classroom getting filled by other people, some other couples who came here together and you are sure that Rafe is wondering why the hell do they need both parents here, some other people who came here on their own: mothers who are married but their husband couldn't be here today (which was your case most of the time a few years ago), some who are divorced (now you're one of those) and the occasional one who shows up for their kid today for the first time.
That's Rafe.
Sure, he's pretty present (now) in any other thing that involved the kids but anything school related that required his presence was always a no for him. Until today.
There's a few people who you already know; from around the island, the country club and there's obviously those other high school sweethearts that are still married. One bitchy couple that graduated on your same class that never got the same attention you and Rafe did (because apparently they weren't relevant enough) and apparently they are still hung up on that by the way they're looking at you like they obviously just won.
Jesus, if only they knew what Rafe knows about them.
And then: "You cut your hair." He noticed.
You looked over your shoulder, back at him as you blinked slowly after what he said. "Just a few inches. Like always." You hummed, shrugging it off with indifference.
"Hm."
You nodded, with half of your mind already outside of the classroom and thinking about dinner. You looked around and your eyes ended up falling on him and the crooked collar of his shirt that you just noticed. You only gave him half a glance but it's enough to notice the imperfection. "You're over 30 years old and you still don't know how to dress?" You said while reaching out to accommodate what was looking wrong.
Rafe tried to ignore the shiver that went down his spine when you touched him and he pulled away, pretending this wasn't exactly what he wanted. "You always gotta be criticizing something or what—"
"If you knew how to dress I wouldn't have to—"
"Yeah, yeah."
At that moment, the young woman known as Ms Jones enters the classroom. A way too bright girl, who you're sure was genuinely a really sweet smile to see in the morning, but at 4 pm, at the end of the school day, you can see how she's pulling the strings to keep going. And you can't blame her, a parents conference wouldn't be your favorite activity at all.
"Good evening everyone, thank you so much for showing up today. We know you all have a tight schedule, so this is appreciated." She started, smile up to her eyes almost. Not all of us, Rafe thought as he looked at some people. "Today we're here to talk about the upcoming science fair next month, the end-of-year recital and class dynamics." She sighed softly and look down at her notes once again before continuing. "And by the end I'll go talk to each of you individually about your respective kid, just a few words so you can see how they are all doing—"
She wasn't even finished when you hear this agitating, unbearable voice. The same one you've dealt with for years while you were in high school. Eleanor.
"Excuse, Ms, hi—" She raised her hand, talking before even allowed. Hm, you could already sense the headache coming up. "My daughter practiced for hours for the starring and now it's suddenly a 'shared part'? How is that fair?"
You immediately tensed, frowning a little bit at the question because your daughter got the other part. She finally, finally dared to come out of her little cage and do something different because you know how much she's been struggling with opening up ever since the divorce happened.
And Rafe knew it as well, Olivia has been nothing but beaming ever since she got it. He felt the way you tensed underneath the touch of his fingers that had been slowly coming closer to touch your back.
"Well, ma'am, this is also elementary school," The teacher clarified more sternly, clearly prepared for people like this (or she already knows how Eleanor behaves). This is not a music orientated school, they don't focus on this. "All kids deserve their time to shine and to do their own thing." She was being as rational as she could be. "And Olivia really worked for her part as well, she deserves it too."
Eleanor scoffed, like she had better things to do and acted like she already won this case. "Her mom—"
"Her mom *what*?"
The room fell silent after Rafe's intervention. He was not letting anyone speak on your name like that, he was daring her to finish the sentence.
"She works in this—" She pointed out the fact of your profession.
"I didn't make my daughter audition for a school recital." You said indignated. Does people really this dense exist in real life or are you just hallucinating after such a long week?
"Oh, please." The woman rolled her eyes. The one time you asked Rafe to come to a conference just so he could also see how much of a shit show the whole thing was and how you were never wrong about this people. "Her daughter suddenly got a second position in a role that wasn't even shared to begin with and she happens to be a music producer. The show didn't even had two stars and now it does."
"She didn't make our daughter do anything, she didn't call anyone. Olivia auditioned like everyone else, are you fucking serious right now?" Rafe scoffed, almost going nonverbal at the implications this woman was making against a kid?
"Oh, you're one to talk, Cameron." Eleanor's husband, Michael, talked now.
"Excuse me?"
"It's the first time I see you at one of these." He gestured around the place to signal the situation they were in. "So, if I were you I would stay quiet if I don't know how this normally works." He said firmly, pretending to be democratic about this whole thing as if it actually counted for something other than just school merit that no one cared about.
"Yeah, Mike," Rafe said in that same tone that he used to call the guy in high school when they played in the same football team for years and he never really got to be a quarterback because of Rafe. Rafe used to be a little condescending just to make him boil.
"I'm actually working, y'know? That's why I don't have time to come to this bullshit and deal with people like you, y'know..." He shook his head, ignoring the daggers that you were sending at him through your eyes. "I'm a little busy actually providing for my kids. I mean, man's got three kids and you're still living off your daddy's money and your wife's reputation, huh?" He taunted, knowing he immediately touched a nerve.
Then Rafe leans back, arms crossed over his chest as he breathes out, too calm for your own liking.
"I didn't know a divorce was what would take you to lock in." Michael said again, with that snake tone that you always sensed around this kind of people.
You sensed Rafe shifting on the chair, the way he was moving to be the absolute same kind of man that he always was: a reactive one. He was always faster to take in action than in word.
You placed a hand on his arm and held him back shaking your head. Not worth it.
It's electric, massive. Even tho it's through clothes, even tho if you're not really touching him.
He goes still again, feeling incredibly bewildered by your touch again. Because, despite everything, the jokes, the flirting that goes around sometimes, you don't touch him like this anymore.
And he can't help but being absolutely shocked that you still manage to have such an effect on him. He doesn't dare to defy you and do the opposite of what you say now.
And he feels absolutely bitter because this man definitely touched a nerve. If there was something Rafe hated was the reminder of how they got to a divorce, how it was obviously his fault and how everyone around can tell how you definitely got away.
And Michael sees it, the subtle touch, the exchange of looks that a couple (or ex-couple) like you shouldn't even have anymore. But it lingers. "Still whipped, huh?"
Rafe takes a deep breath.
His eyes flick to Michael's hands, no ring tan line, but he's still wearing that same cheap-ass watch from graduation day— and then he looks back up with a smirk so sharp it could cut glass.
Rafe wishes he still had his ring tan line, he might as well get it tattooed so the mark permanently stays there. A reminder of what it had been.
He frowned and leaned against your touch in his arm like it was the only real thing he could rely on in a room full of assholes. "At least I'm not cheating on my wife—" He managed to say before being cut off by the teacher.
"Okay!" She interrupted. "I suggest that personal feuds are left outside the classroom during this meeting." She said, tense as a stretched elastic. It obviously isn't the same to deal with kids than with adults' tension, everything cuts deeper.
Rafe sighs and leans back in, settling on the tiny chair that he really wants to break right now. He looks down, your hand still on his arm like you're holding him with a leash, you might as well have.
Michael tensed after Rafe's words, it's not that what he said is exactly a secret but they like to believe he hides what he does in the country club pretty well. and Eleanor glance at each other with smug smiles. But leans forward in his chair, all too proud. "Speaking of cheating..."
And Rafe snaps from the moment, eyes darkening at the implication. "Hey." He warns. He knows all about what people say around the island since they separated and since Rafe really makes use of his singleness.
Rafe is not a cheater.
"Sir—" Ms Jones tried to stop the conversation.
Michael scoffs at him and does not let the conversation be interrupted by the teacher, knowing he made Rafe nervous on purpose —he really likes to be detestable— and looks over at you with that same condescending grin that you used to see in his high school days.
"How's your business, honey?" Eleanor asks now, voice dripping in sweet, fake sympathy. The petname on its own makes you want to throw up. "Still tryna' sell those tunes no one buys?"
You frowned at the and let out a sarcastic chuckle. Really? Of all people, she's the one that's going to tell you that right now? When she doesn't work, didn't go to college, didn't do anything other than staying on this island, hooked on her husband's arm while letting him cheat on her because she's also too busy cheating with her personal trainer.
And you're not usually one to answer and waste your time on people who don't matter but: "You mean the ones that got me a Billboard award last year...?" You asked with a smirk.
No need to explain more.
Rafe can't hide his damn proud smile. God, if he doesn't find this hot...
Even after the divorce, he kept the magazine with a picture of you at the ceremony, the one with you holding that award and smiling like a kid at Christmas.
Eleanor's smirk falters slightly when she realizes she just stepped in a pile of bullshit. But she still goes for it, looking for something to grab on to. Michael's smug expression falters a bit, because, yeah, he didn't expect that answer.
But he quickly covers up his wife with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah, we heard." Bullshit. They probably didn't even know about the goddamn Billboard Awards. "Must be real easy to get those awards when Daddy paid the record label to get you on the ballot."
Michael's always known it's a sore spot for you, being called Daddy's girl.
And you hear a few gasps the more the conversation progressed. You saw the young teacher's face, almost going pale when she saw that she can't be the one to control the situation. She's probably thanking that she decided to work with kids.
You laughed at that, rolling your eyes at how these people have never been smart enough to actually make something out of their lives or at least have proper encounters with other people, especially when they are the ones starting every altercation.
They have always been like this. Jealous, envious.
"Jeez, I wonder how he does it six feet on the ground." You said with a smirk to make him uncomfortable, you have talked about this topic way too much in therapy to not make a joke out of it. "At least my dead father does something, what has yours done, huh? Other than trying to hide you because you couldn't even work for him—" You barked back.
Rafe can't help it — he snorts loud, a rough, unfiltered laugh that cuts through the tension like a blade.
His head tilts toward you, blue eyes alight with something dangerously close to pride. Holy shit, he thinks. That fire in you —sharp, fearless— always hit him right in the chest. And yeah, maybe he misses it.
Michael goes red. "Excuse me?"
But you’re already moving forward in your seat, voice cool and smooth like velvet over steel.
“Think hard,” you say with a slow blink. “Does ‘bankruptcy,’ ‘embezzlement,’ and ‘community service for public indecency’ ring any bells? Or did Mommy wipe that part from the family photo album as well?”
A beat of silence.
Then—a few parents actually gasp.
Eleanor jerks like she’s been slapped and her husband looks ready to combust. Are they really that stupid to be the ones starting fights they can't even win? It's almost pathetic, really.
Rafe leans back now, arms crossed again, one leg bouncing under the desk because he’s still buzzing from how fast and clean you just shut it down.
You leaned forward, eyes steady and penetrating with the purpose of killing. "My daughter's staying on the recital and you hope I don't hear about this again." You didn't stutter, your voice didn't shake, you meant it.
"Are you threatening us?" The woman's voice went high pitched.
Everyone immediately started making noise as the young lady who was in charge of this meeting started talking again, decided to put an end on this. "No, no one—"
"I am—" Rafe said clearly in the middle of all the hubbub.
"No one's threatening anyone, okay?" Ms Jones interrupted, finally successful in her attempts as the four of you decided to step back. "Can we continue? We're here to talk about the kids, not to start a fight over things that are nobody's business."
Rafe, resting his arm on the desk and his chin on top of his hand, murmured: "That's what I'm saying."
You rolled your eyes and sighed, leaning back again as you crossed your arms over your chest.
Rafe glances at you over his shoulder, not hiding the smile with the immense amount of pride that he's having right now. You've never been one to get into unnecessary feuds with anyone (Rafe has, all the time), so the fact that he gets to see you get out of that structure of grace, respect and elegance by giving such answers... Yeah, he can't hide his reaction. You need to talk back more often for sure (you normally do, you talk back to him...).
He taught you well.
You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at him, and for once, you don't fight the smile either.
watching you for months from behind foggy glasses and shaky hands, jerking off to the thought of you with his earbuds in and a pillow clutched to his chest, pretending it’s you. whispering your name like a prayer, like he’s ashamed of how bad he wants it.
so when it actually happens—when you kiss him, when you pull him onto your bed, when you say “do you wanna…?”—he nods like a fucking puppy. eager, dumb, eyes already wide and blown-out.
he tries to act confident. really, he does. tells you in this shaky little voice,
“i-I’ve seen a lot of videos, I know what to do…” like it’s something to be proud of. like his entire sex education isn’t a pornhub rabbit hole and three reddit threads.
but the second you guide him in? game over.
his hips jerk forward way too fast, eyes rolling back as he gasps, forehead pressed to your shoulder.
“oh god—oh fuck—fuckfuckfuck, i’m sorry, I didn’t—”
he whines. actually fucking whimpers into your skin, clutching your waist like he’s drowning in it.
"y-you’re so warm—can’t—can’t help it—feels s-so good, I—I didn’t mean to—"
and then he just freezes, pulsing inside you, biting back a sob because he came already. not even thirty seconds in.
he can’t look you in the eye. rolls off you like a guilty little rabbit, red-faced and mumbling apologies into your neck.
“i swear i’ll make it up to you. i’ll—i’ll go down on you, okay? for as long as you want. just… don’t hate me.”
he does make it up to you. tongue trembling, nose buried in you like it’s his job, moaning every time you tug his hair and call him good. (he cries again when you cum on his tongue. it’s kind of sweet.)
18+ mdni. drug use, graphic smut, 69 position, oral(f!receiving), squirting. | MASTERLIST HERE
ㅤㅤrafe cameron sprawls across the bed, shirt already off, abs catching the low light lamp. his jeans low on hips—showing a peek of his veiny v-line.
hes got that look on his face, the lazy half smirk, like he knows what youre thinking about. and hes already bored of waiting for you to do something about it.
“you gonna stand there all night or what?” he tilts his chin, watching you through that half lidded eyes. one thick arm ducked behind his head. white powder maps out the hard ridges of his stomach.
you move, hovering on top of him. your face met with the sight of his abs covered in lined powders, knees on the mattress. while hes met with the sight of your plump ass and clothed cunt from behind. unfortunately, the only fabric separating is your shorts. youre not wearing underwear on purpose cause you forgot.
“y’know what to do.” the roll of a hundred dollar bill rests between his fingers. he doesnt hand it to you. he makes you take it.
you take the bill between his fingers, skin brushing. your teeth gritting nervously.
“attagirl.” he settles deeper into the pillow. “make it count.”
you lean over him, bending even more. one hand braced on his abs. his skin is hot, with a faint sheen of sweat.
his warm breath and nose brushing against your pussy. you bit your lower lip.
without looking back, you know damn well hes staring at you so intensely and heavily. so, you hesitate a bit.
you finally pull the bill to your nose and take the line in one sharp pull. the burn hits the back of your throat sharply. you gasp against his skin, almost coughing.
his massive hand lands at the back of your head. fingers twisting into your hair, yanking you backward. hes so commanding when it came to his weird fantasies, but you let him. cause, youre as of a freak as he is.
the coke hits you in a slow wave. you can feel everything. the pulse of his blood under your palm, tight tension in his thighs, and the way his chest rises and falls.
his other fingers tease your puffy folds, going up and down the line. circling your clit just barely. you clenched at nothing, how desperate.
“rafe, stop teasi—”
“did i tell you to speak?” a spank lands on your right cheek, you jolt. your ass jiggling at the movement. rafe watches it like its the hottest thing hes ever seen.
tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. you put your face down on his abs, cheeks sticking to the leftover powder.
rafe continues kneading the fat of your ass. he palms the back of your thigh, spreading you wide. letting out a low whistle when he saw a visible damp spot on your cunt. “so fuckin’ needy.”
he drags you down onto his face until youre grinding against his wet lips, biting. though, not hard enough to hurt. your moan is muffled by his abs when you went to the second rail.
“keep going.” hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts. tugging them upward, to see the way your shorts stretch around your cunt and your ass. “shorts, no panties. you been thinkin’ bout it, huh.”
he took them down, quickly licking a slow stripe right up your slick heat.
your nose drags across the third rail, his abs flex under you. fat cock leaking hard inside his pants. your eyes almost rolled when he licks your pussy.
the third rail vanishes in one burning pull. your heart slammed against your ribs. suddenly, everything felt brighter.
you trace your fingers further to the blue veins on his v-line, hundred dollar bill resting on your hand long forgotten.
rafe trails his lips along your pussy. then, latching his lips onto your folds. giving them a one firm suck.
his tongue drags flat from your entrance all the way up. he laps, circles your clit with the tip. sucking it between his lips again and holding it for seconds. your knees shake.
“keep snorting, baby.” mouth still buried in you. “and when youre done, you gonna come all over my face while i watch you drip.” tongue curls inside you, he groaned.
his hands wrap around your hips, pulling you down harder, fucking your cunt against his mouth. you squirm.
“quit squirmin’.” he slaps your pussy lightly. the sting makes your cunt throb and get wetter.
he pushes three thick fingers inside your velvety wall. both of your eyes are rolled back, it feels so good. his fingers stretching your cunt in every way. “mhmm.. rafe—”
you grind your ass onto his face, chasing more pleasure. he crooks his fingers in time with the flicks of his tongue. groaning low against your clit every time you clenched around him.
rafe spat onto your folds, thick glob landing wet and warm. “what a tight pussy,” he works his tongue again. practically making out with your pussy, as his fingers sinking more deep.
“oh, fuck—rafe!”
he curls his thick fingers hard, hitting that spot. you sob his name into his abs, moving your hips in rhythm and press down to his face.
“please, im gonna—”
“cum?” he laughs against you. the vibration making your thighs shake. “do it. cum on my face, soak my tongue.”
and then his fingers crook up harder, mouth closes over your clit and sucks. your whole body seizes, moans come louder and lips forming in a ‘o’ shape.
it floods out of you in a hot gush. soaking his chin, lips, and drips down to his broad chest. your thighs trembling, clamping his head shut. bed sheet wet.
"holy shit," voice muffled between your thighs.
he doesnt move, still keeping his mouth on you. he laps the slick juices coming from you, almost drinking it.
rafe pulls his face away, leaning back into the pillow. “thats so fucking hot.”
