✮⋆˙ . bsf!rafe keeps 'accidentally' slipping inside after promising to just rub against you.
warnings — 18+ MDNI. bestfriend!reader x bsf!rafe pairing. name is self explanatory. manipulative tone & fake apologies.
cherie’s note — loosely based on this p!link.
your knees are bent, thighs open for him, trembling slightly from how real this feels — arms curled near your chest, lip caught anxiously between your teeth, breathing too fast for someone who's supposedly not having sex.
things had always been… complicated with you and rafe. secrets whispered in the dark, your body tucked into his bed more often than your own. he’d even taught you how to kiss — unforgivable, in hindsight. because now, whatever this was… it felt like the point of no return.
rafe kneels between your legs, stroking himself in slow, lazy pulls. deliberately. "just relax," he murmurs, voice low like he's talking you through something innocent. like this was something every best friend did — and you could definitely be convinced of such when it was him doing the talking. "i'm not gonna put it in. i told you."
he presses the head against your slit, sliding it up your folds, gathering the wetness along the underside of his throbbing cock. the squelch that bounces off the walls is unmistakable, a clear indicator of just how much you wanted this, despite the way your pulse raced. you jump at the first pass and he smiles — quick, hidden, gone before you even get the chance to look at him.
"how're you this worked up already?" he teases under his breath, more to himself than to you. "barely even touching you."
you squirm underneath him, embarrassed. "you're... rubbing on me..."
"mhm." he drags the swollen head down again, circling your entrance with soft precision — though his mind is anything but soft. not with you, sprawled out beneath him, eyes wide like a prey caught in a trap. his trap.
you gasp, a soft sound that shoots up his spine — and that's when he lets the tip catch you. not fully. just enough to make your body pull him in that tiny, helpless way you can't control. the thick head of his cock breaches the tightness of your cunt, and your thighs tremble slightly from the pressure.
"sorry," he breaths, pretending to pull back. "didn't mean— you're so warm, and wet. hard to aim."
you believe him immediately, like you always do, nodding. your cheeks burn, "it's okay. just... just be careful."
"i am," he promises, thumb stroking the soft skin of your knee. "i got you."
except he keeps doing it. that same slow glide, catching on you again, the head pushing just barely inside before he rocks back like it's truly accidental. each time, you make this soft, strangled sound that goes straight to his cock.
"you okay?" he murmurs.
you nod quickly, swallowing away at the nerves. "it just feels... weird."
"good weird?"
you nod again — and the way you do it, wide-eyed and trusting, makes him exhale shakily.
he strokes himself harder, a little faster, hips following the rhythm. the spongy tip of his cock keeps bumping and sliding against your slit with every pass, the feeling so dizzying you swear you could see stars. your slick coats his hand, helping the slick grip glide effortlessly against himself — makes everything sloppy and hot and impossible for him to 'aim'.
rafe swears he can lose himself in the sight of you alone. swears he'd give anything to see this everyday — you, eyes glassy and blinking slow, completely fucked-out and trembling under his guidance. so vulnerable. so trusting. pliant, too — keeping your thighs perched open enough to allow him the space he demands, without having to be asked.
you force a tiny breath out, shaky and full of shame, and he rewards you by rolling the head down again. and this time, when it catches, it sinks just a little deeper than before. enough to make your eyes fly fully open. enough to make your hips lift before you can stop yourself, telling him everything he needs to know.
he freezes. not really. just enough to pretend he's surprised.
"shit," he mutters, voice going hoarse. "that—that was deeper than i meant. m'sorry, baby."
and despite his apology, he stays there a beat too long — buried millimeters inside of your warm heat, throbbing. he pulls out slowly, letting a slick string stretch between where he’d previously pushed inside of you.
your heart jumps into your throat, "it's okay, ray," you whisper quickly, like you don't want him to feel bad. "was just an accident, right?"
c/w ᝰ.ᐟ backward hat!rafe + your anklet on his shoulder™️, unprotected p in v, poolside sex, w.a.m., language, pet names (baby, pretty, my girl + no y/n), obsessed husband!rafe, kelce + top catching strays, rafe’s grumpy as hell + rafe is down catastrophically bad per usual ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ
“Hell no.”
Topper pauses halfway through reaching for his ball marker and looks over. “What?”
Rafe points at him fast. “I know what you’re gonna ask. Fuck off.”
Topper stares at him for a second before a laugh escapes. “Jesus Christ, dude.”
Beside him, Kelce just shakes his head, snickering under his breath while he crouches to line up his putt. The ball sits a few feet from the hole and he’s still smiling when he lines up his putter behind it.
“We haven’t even said anything yet.”
“Don’t need you to.”
“You don’t even know what I was gonna ask.”
“Yes I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You were gonna ask if I wanted to grab a drink after this.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Topper asks, lifting an eyebrow at Rafe like he’s officially lost his mind.
“You don’t want an answer to that, Top.”
He hooks a finger beneath the sleeve of his golf polo and rolls it a little higher on his bicep, adjusting the fabric before dragging the back of his hand across his forehead. The UV index has to be somewhere around ten and he feels every bit of it.
“The only reason I’m out here is because she said it’d be good for me.”
Topper snorts and Kelce’s chip barely makes it out of the sandpit.
“And you’ve been thinkin’ about leaving since hole one,” Topper chuckles, shaking his head.
“Hole one? That’s insulting,” Rafe breathes.
“Sorry, hole four—”
“Parking lot,” Rafe cuts him off. “I was thinkin’ that since the parking lot, Top.”
But even that’s a lie. He was thinking that the moment that he watched you wave to him over your shoulder before you stepped outside—that little string bikini peeking out of the top of your shorts, tormenting him beyond belief.
Ever since then he’s been crossing holes off in his head like an advent calendar from his own personal hell.
“He’s not even listening,” Kelce teases.
Rafe looks over at him, blinking slowly a few times with his lips pursed and his hands resting on his hips.
“‘Course I’m not.”
“Unbelievable,” Topper sighs. “I was just telling Kelce we could do another eighteen holes—”
Rafe can’t even contain his disgust—wincing, brows pinched tight, nostrils flared with a side eye dripping with judgment.
“We’re not inviting you, Cameron. Calm the fuck down,” he blurts.
Ding! Rafe’s hand moves, diving for his pocket like someone challenged him to a goddamn duel.
Kelce drops the head of his putter against the grass, shaking his head judgmentally. Rafe rolls his eyes, unlocking his phone without a shred of shame.
“You’ve got a problem,” Topper says.
“A legitimate fucking problem,” Kelce adds.
“I can’t help that neither of you like your wives,” Rafe mutters and both of their mouths hang open in disgust. “Whatever,” he says, sounding so genuinely unbothered. ‘Cause he is.
Then he looks down at the screen and suddenly nothing else matters.
You’re stretched out across one of the lounge chairs beside the pool with a book propped open. The afternoon sun reflects off your skin. The book covers half your face, but that isn’t helping him concentrate because the rest of you is impossible to miss—the soft swells of your breasts pressed against the pool chair, the curve of your ass, just a taste of your thighs. Your feet are crossed, the little anklet he bought you glittering in the North Carolina sun.
“Look at him,” Topper says, nudging Kelce with his elbow.
“Not a single thought in that head,” Kelce adds as he steps forward and rests his putter behind the ball, taking his time while he studies the break.
The green goes quiet for a second while everybody waits for him to hit it. Before he can even pull the putter back, Rafe steps directly into his line and sinks his putt without hesitation.
Topper starts barking out a laugh and Kelce stares at him in complete disbelief as his ball rolls toward the hole. “You are such a prick,” Kelce says.
“We’re done.”
“We are absolutely not done.”
“This feels done,” Rafe answers, bending down to grab his ball, starting toward the flag before the argument is even over, Kelce’s ball still rolling toward the cup.
“You’re unbelievable, Cameron—”
Rafe cuts off Kelce’s critique, kicking the ball, sending it careening away. “It was gonna hook left anyway,” Rafe says over his shoulder, digging his keys out of his pocket, heading toward the parking lot as the two bitch behind him. “You two suck at golf, by the way,” Rafe calls back.
“Fuck you, Rafe,” Kelce laughs weakly, walking toward his ball.
“Short game’s terrible.”
“Rafe!” Topper calls but he flicks him off in response.
“Don’t even get me started on you, Top. You read greens like an eighty-year-old man with cataracts, fucking useless.”
“Jesus Christ,” Topper gasps.
Rafe doesn’t even bother organizing his clubs when he reaches the parking lot. He yanks them out of the cart, tosses the entire bag into the trunk with absolutely no regard for the thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment inside.
He jogs around the side of the car, yanks the driver’s door open, and practically falls into the seat before firing the engine to life.
Gravel spits behind him as he throws the car into reverse, backing out of the spot in one smooth movement before shifting into drive.
The second he hits the main road, he grabs his phone and calls. His thumbs drum against the steering wheel as the summer wind whips through the car, his pulse hammering, still racing from that power walk to his car.
“Hey, baby,” your voice fills his car and he softens in his seat, hands wrapping a little tighter around the wheel as he smiles.
“Hey pretty,” he hums.
His voice is softer now, gravelly from talking all day and sweeter than it has any right to be considering the way he’d been speaking to Topper and Kelce five minutes ago.
If you’d been standing on that green listening to him threaten both of them, you’d absolutely have something to say about it. He already knows exactly what you’d tell him too. Be nice. Stop being grumpy. They’re your friends. The problem is that he doesn’t care about any of that right now.
“Where are you?” You ask curiously, and he can hear in your voice that you know he dipped out of there sooner than he should have.
“Just left.”
“You just left?” You giggle.
“Mhmm...” Your voice comes through the speakers and instantly makes him feel better than the entire golf outing did.
Traffic slows for a red light and the drumming starts again as he waits for it to change.
“You weren’t gonna get a drink or something?” You ask. “Relax?”
“Absolutely not.”
The answer comes so fast that you start laughing again. The corner of his mouth twitches as he shifts in his seat. “They were stayin’ to practice puttin’, baby.”
“Really?” You ask, not convinced in the slightest.
“Yeah. Their—uhhh… Their short games suck.”
“Gotcha.”
“I’m serious.”
“I’m sure you are.”
“They’re fuckin’ terrible, baby. That was a long-ass day,” he grumbles and you giggle. He leans back against the headrest as he lets the moment breathe for a minute. “Kids been easy on you today?”
“Actually, yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Just laying by the pool,” you say.
“Sounds rough.”
“Fuckin’ terrible, baby,” you echo his words back to him and he smiles. “They’re actually at Wheezie’s.”
The car accelerates, completely subconscious on his part, but you hear it loud and clear. Rafe’s eyes flick briefly toward the speedometer while a grin starts pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah?”
“Rafe Cameron, slow down.”
The grin only gets worse, sinking a little lower in the driver’s seat, as one hand falls to the shift stick.
“I’m goin’ slow, baby.”
“You are not,” you answer. “You accelerated the second I said the kids weren’t home.”
“Did I?” You can practically hear the grin in his voice now as he weaves through traffic. “So.”
You start laughing, knowing exactly where he’s going to go with this. “Winnie’s in Charleston with Jackson.”
“Got it. And Max?” He asks eagerly.
“He left like an hour ago.”
“On the boat?” He asks, knowing that’s an all-day affair.
“Mhmm…”
Rafe’s laugh rumbles through the phone. “Interesting,” he says.
“Interesting?” You laugh and sigh sweetly.
“Sounds like I get you to myself all day?”
“Sounds like it.”
By the time he turns into the neighborhood, he’s grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. The gates open and he barely slows down as he pulls through them, already spotting flashes of blue water between the houses.
“You’re almost here, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely,” he hums. “See you outside, baby.”
The second he turns into the driveway, the car barely has time to rest before he’s throwing it into park, killing the engine.
The garage door rumbles overhead and he doesn’t wait, ducking underneath it before it can open all the way. His shirt’s halfway over his head before he even reaches the mudroom. By the time he steps inside, he’s carrying the polo in one hand, snagging his swim trunks from the laundry room with the other.
He stumbles slightly, kicking off his golf shoes without ever breaking stride. Future Rafe can deal with that problem. Present Rafe has more important things to do.
His golf shorts are already undone by the time he reaches the hallway. He steps out of them, steps into the swim trunks, and keeps walking without stopping once to grab his hat, tugging it on before he flicks it to the back.
Now he’s finally home and the only thing he cares about is the backyard door sitting at the end of the room. He reaches it a few seconds later and quickly slows down, dragging the glass door open.
And that last bit of tension breezes out of him, because there you are.
You’re curled up in a chair with a book open in your hands, completely unaware that he’s standing there.
He admires you for a moment—one leg crossed over the other while sunlight dances across the pool behind you. He soaks in the scene he’d spent eighteen holes waiting to get home to.
Then a sharp whistle rips through his lips.
Your head lifts at the sound.
The book lowers into your lap and a smile breaks across your face so fast it makes something in his chest tighten.
You start to uncross your legs, already leaning forward like you’re about to stand, but he points at you.
“Nah, baby,” he says. “Stay right there. I’m comin’.”
You laugh under your breath and fall back against the chair.
The cushions dip beneath his weight as he climbs on top of you. One hand braces against the armrest while the other finds your thigh, his broad palm sliding higher as he guides you closer.
“Miss me?” He asks. Rafe’s smile tugs a little wider when you whisper yes, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your thigh.
He slides a hand along your side, guiding you onto his lap as one arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest while the other lifts to cup your cheek.
“Goddamn, I missed you. Don’t make me do that shit again,” he mutters, shaking his head once before leaning back enough to look at you properly. “M’not home enough for that.”
“Okay, baby,” you laugh.
“I mean it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t try to charm me after that, pretty. That was hell.” He leans in first this time, forehead brushing yours for a second before his lips find yours. “I love you,” he murmurs.
Your hand presses against his chest, nails scratching lightly down sun-warmed skin. He pushes the cup of your bikini to the side, wrapping his lips around your skin while his other hand drifts between your thighs.
“Out here?” You ask with a laugh.
“We’re all alone, baby. Why not?” His lips brush yours again before trailing along your jaw. “We can go inside too—”
“Right here,” you whisper.
“That’s what I thought,” he hums. “Who’s my girl, huh?”
You smile, fingers hooking beneath the waistband of his swim trunks. “I’m your girl.”
“Mhmm.” His thumb drifts along your collarbones to your shoulders, nudging one strap down before the other. “You’re my fuckin’ girl.” The words come out rough enough to pull a smile from you.
You reach up and untie the small bow holding your swimsuit top together. The fabric slips loose between you.
Rafe’s eyes drop as you toss it away. “Jesus Christ, baby.” A low groan slips out of him as he tips his forehead against yours for a second, hands lifting to squeeze your tits in his big palms as his mouth finds yours again.
You glance down briefly, catching his swim trunks sitting low on his hips from where you’d been tugging at them, bunched slightly against his muscular thighs, the fabric stretched tight across them.
“Take these off,” you whisper, the words barely leaving your lips before he slides down in his seat, tugging down his shorts with him, his heavy cock smacking against his toned stomach with a snap, his eyes locked on your body.
His hands squeeze your hips, digging in as he drags your clothed pussy on top of him, head pressing back into the chair. The sun beats down on your skin. A thin line of sweat catching his chain before it rolls in a lazy train down his chest.
“They said I got a problem,” he mumbles through a smirk, his jaw tightening as you keep moving against him, the heat of your body bleeding through the fabric of your swimsuit, finally snapping whatever patience he had left.
“Yeah, baby?”
“You see any problems here?” He asks breathlessly as he reaches for the bows at your hip, tugging them free, yanking away the rest of the fabric in a hurry as his hands close around you again.
He blows out a breath like he’s finally gotten rid of the last thing standing between him and what he wants, his hand diving between your thighs.
His fingers press inside and he gasps, working you with his hand as you rest on his chest, feeling his heart bang underneath, his muscles flexing with each push of his hand.
“Just jealous they don’t have a woman like you?” He hums as he pulls his hand away just long enough to drag you in.
Rafe’s lidded eyes connect with yours, lips falling open with his as he pulls you down on him. You grip his shoulders, hands trembling as a deep groan thunders in his chest, feeling your wetness wrap around him tight.
“Fuck, me,” he mutters under his breath, dragging you closer, smiling against your lips before capturing your mouth in a tender kiss.
“Oh my god,” you whine.
“Pussy’s so perfect.”
His eyes lift to yours in a lust-ridden daze, muscles flexing as he works you over on his length. You bounce on his lap, wet slaps of sweat and slick filling with air around you mixing with your soft whimpers and his deep groans.
You grip the arm rests, circling your hips and he throws his head against the back of the chair to get a better look, his eyes drifting between your face and the bounce of your tits, falling to his lap where your pussy swallows him up each time you sink down.
His legs spread a little wider, feet resting on the ground, hips pitching to fuck up into your soaked hole. Your head throws back as you rise on your knees, letting him hit that perfect spot, the knot in your belly tightening, your body impossibly hot.
“Rafe,” you moan.
“Yeah?” He asks, and you can hear the satisfaction in his voice. “Been playin’ this shit over and over in my mind, pretty. Let me have it.”
You cry out as he pounds your pussy with his thick dick. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, as your pussy flutters around him. He looks up at you in a haze, lips parted, brows softening as your release wets his lap and thighs.
“Oh shit, that's my girl… That’s my baby,” he praises, making you gasp when he rolls you onto your back, not giving you a moment to breathe before he’s on you again.
He looks down at you with a smile, adjusting his hat, staring at the wet mess between your thighs. “Why the fuck would I ever wanna leave you, huh?” He asks as he pushes your legs against your chest, hooking your ankles over his broad shoulders.
You whimper out a little breath as he taps his cock against your pussy, muscles jumping with each slap.
He pushes in slow, tilting closer to get as far as he can go, pressing a deep kiss to your trembling lips. “Gonna cum in your pussy,” he whispers, his voice breaking with pleasure. “M’so, so fuckin’ close.”
His face turns slightly, pressing a kiss to your ankle, right against the charm. His ab muscles clench as he rolls his lips, sweat sliding down his temple.
“I’m so deep,” he mumbles. You nod quickly, lip bitten between your teeth, hands gripping the arm rests tight.
“So fucking deep,” you whisper.
“Yeah?” He asks breathlessly. “Fuck me.”
He loses his rhythm, thrusts growing uneven as he snaps against your skin. His muscles quake, shoulders trembling, slamming into you in one heavy thrust.
His eyes pinch shut, head falling forward, cumming deep inside you with your name on his lips.
He lets your legs go but he doesn’t let you get far, snuggling into you again, kissing your forehead—then your nose and your lips.
“Goddamn,” he mumbles, lingering while your breathing slows together.
He sits down next to you, dragging you close, kissing you as he grabs your thigh, tugging it over the top of him—close not close enough.
“This,” he huffs out a deep breath through a smile, relaxing into the lounge chair. “This is what’s good for me.”
“Yeah?” You giggle, tilting your chin up for a kiss that he gladly steals. You rest your head on his shoulder, the warm summer breeze blowing against your skin, the soft music that you had playing while you were reading filling the space in between.
“You sent that picture to me on purpose,” he breathes.
A smile stretches on his lips when you don’t answer right away, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he smiles.
“Holy shit, you did? Didn’t you?” He asks, tilting his neck to look you in the eyes and you shrug and smile.
“Thought it would get you home quicker.”
His hand comes down heavy on your thigh as he dips in, brushing his nose against yours, chuckling deeply against your lips before he kisses you.
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."
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.
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.
bff rafe thats has a past of being a notorious fuckboy is shocked when his lifelong bff (reader) mentions that shes a virgin bc shes undeniably HOT. and hes experienced... shes not... so they do something about it..!
pov. while playing truth or dare, he discovers his long time bestfriend (who’s so hot and cute) has never had sex before.
notes. i love this plot, it’s so similar to my nerd x frat boy rafe fanfic! thank you for recommending this anonymous
content warnings. ⸝⸝ fem reader, gentle sex, vanilla sex, praising, cussing, titty sucking, no proof read, rafe teaching kissing, oral sex
rafe grew up swearing he’d never be attracted to you, swore he’d never let himself be perverted toward you. but ever since you hit college, it’s been a different story.
he’s been with so many girls. every age, every type, but none of them ever hit like you do. your tits sit so perfectly in your bra that he gets nervous whenever you stand there casually talking about life while getting dressed.
he’s seen you almost naked plenty of times, just in a bra and panties, but never fully bare. he acted cool in the moment, eyes not lowering down to the obvious outline of your pussy. but he’d be lying if he said he’d never fantasized about you being fully bare and finally seeing the outlines.
the soft curves of your body make him hard in seconds. even the lightest brush of his fingers against you while he was taking a photo for your mom’s facebook left him aching.
it’s honestly laughable how many times rafe has told himself you’re completely off limits. all those almost-kisses, the times he’s accidentally walked in on you changing, and the sharp jealousy he felt whenever his friends started showing interest in you, none of it helped.
but right now, the two of you are playing truth or dare with a generous side of alcohol that wasn’t exactly part of the rules. it’s been light and playful so far; crushes, stripping off a hoodie or socks, handstands against the wall, holding your breath for thirty seconds. then you both decided to make it more interesting.
“someone you’d fuck for access to their partner?” you asked, reading from a website full of spicy questions. rafe laughed. “any lesbian couple,” he teased. you rolled your eyes. “cheater!” you yell. he grinned before asking his own. “do you prefer virgins or experienced guys?” he questioned. the question came too smooth, like he’d been waiting to ask it for a while. “i don’t know… i’m a virgin,” you said, then laughed. “i haven’t gotten that far yet.” you add.
rafe didn’t laugh with you. he stared at you like you’d just said something insane. “what?” he asked quietly. “sorry, i was joking,” you clarified, still smiling. “i meant i basically am a virgin.” you continue.
his expression didn’t change. his eyes dragged slowly down your body, taking you in. “no… i heard you,” he said, voice low. you blinked, suddenly aware of how intently he was looking at you. “oh.” a small smile tugged at your lips.
“how are you still a virgin?” he asked before he could stop himself. his gaze wandered shamelessly over your curves, no longer pretending it was casual. you felt heat rise in your cheeks, but the alcohol made you bold. “wanna come do something about it?” you teased, locking eyes with him.
rafe’s smirk was slow and hungry. “you giving me a go?” he asked and you paused, tilting your head as you held his stare. then you nodded.
rafe didn’t waste another second. still sitting on the floor across from you, he leaned forward, one hand bracing on the carpet as he closed the distance.
his other hand gently cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek. you could smell the faint mix of his cologne and the alcohol on his breath right before his lips met yours.
the kiss was soft at first, warm and careful, like he was testing the waters. but when you stayed frozen, unsure, he pulled back just enough to look at you. “i… i don’t know how to kiss,” you whispered, a little embarrassed.
rafe’s eyes softened, but his smirk stayed. “that’s okay, baby. i’ll teach you.” he said. he tilted your chin up slightly with his fingers. “just relax your lips… don’t tense up.” his voice was low and patient. “follow what i do.” he adds.
he leaned in again, slower this time, pressing his mouth to yours with a little more pressure. his lips moved gently, guiding yours to part just enough. when you started to mirror him, he hummed approvingly against your mouth.
“good girl… like that,” he murmured between kisses. “use a little tongue if you want.”
he demonstrated, licking softly at your bottom lip until you opened for him. the moment your tongues touched, a small sound escaped you, and rafe deepened the kiss, taking control but staying gentle enough for you to keep up.
his hand slid into your hair, cradling the back of your head as he kissed you like he’d been waiting years to do it. he pulled back for air, forehead resting against yours, breathing a little heavier. “see? you’re a natural,” he whispered, voice rough. “again?” he whispered, voice low and rough.
you nodded, cheeks flushed. “yes.”
he pulled back just enough to look at you, a wicked little smirk tugging at his mouth. “beg me for it then.” he teased. you bit your lip, heart racing, but the heat between you made you brave. “please, rafe… kiss me. i want you to teach me.” you begged. his eyes darkened with satisfaction. “good girl.”
he leaned in and captured your mouth again, slow but deliberate to make you ache. “relax your lips,” he murmured against you. “open for me a little… yeah, just like that.” he kissed you deeper, guiding your mouth with his, teaching you how to move, how to respond, all to him. his tongue slipped in lazily, stroking yours until you started kissing him back properly, all soft and eager.
while his mouth worked against yours, your hands moved on their own. you tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slowly and over your head. he quickly kissed you once again, as you dropped it beside you, now sitting there in just your bra, chest rising and falling quickly.
rafe broke the kiss to look down at you. his gaze locked on your tits, big and perky, straining against the thin fabric of your bra. they were so full and plump, perfectly rounded with a soft, sexy bounce as you breathed. he smiled, slow and hungry. “so fucking pretty,” he breathed.
he couldn’t hold back anymore. rafe leaned down, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along the swell of your breasts. his hands cupped them, squeezing gently, feeling their weight and softness. “fuck… look at these tits,” he groaned, clearly obsessed with how big and plush they were.
he pulled one cup down, exposing a nipple, and immediately dragged his tongue over it before sucking it into his mouth. he moaned against your skin, sucking harder, switching between licking broad strokes and deep, greedy pulls. his other hand kneaded your other tit, thumb brushing the nipple through the fabric.
he was completely lost in them, burying his face between your soft, plump curves, kissing and sucking like he couldn’t get enough.
you got shy all of a sudden, face burning as the heat between your legs became too much. biting your lip, you reached down, grabbed his hand, and slowly guided it to the waistband of your shorts, pressing his fingers there.
rafe pulled back from your chest, eyes filled with desire and hungry as he understood exactly what you wanted. “yeah?” he murmured, voice rough. without another word he hooked his fingers into your shorts and panties, tugging them down your legs in one smooth motion and tossing them aside.
you were completely bare now. rafe’s gaze dropped between your thighs, and he let out a low groan. his fingers found your clit instantly, rubbing slow, firm circles over the sensitive little bundle. your hips jerked hard at the first touch, twitching and bucking uncontrollably as he played with your soaked, horny clit.
“fuck, look at you,” he breathed, eyes locked on the way your body reacted, twitching and jerking every time he stroked you. “so sensitive already.” he comments.
you moaned loudly, the sound spilling out as pleasure shot through you. your back arched and you leaned back until you were lying flat on the floor, chest heaving.
rafe didn’t stop. he moved down between your legs, spreading them wider. before you could catch your breath, he pinned your hips down firmly to the floor with both hands, holding you in place so you couldn’t squirm away.
then his mouth was on you. his tongue dragged hot and wet over your clit, licking and sucking with filthy hunger.
he kept you pinned down tight, strong hands gripping your thighs as he ate you out like he’d been starving for it, tongue flicking and circling, lips sucking gently then harder. every time you tried to buck or twist, his grip only tightened, keeping you right there for him.
rafe kept his mouth on you, licking and sucking your clit until your moans turned into desperate little cries. you couldn’t take it anymore.
“rafe… please,” you whimpered, voice shaky. “please fuck me. i want you inside me. please.” you plead.
he pulled back from between your thighs, lips shiny, eyes full with lust. “yeah? you want my cock, baby?” he asked, already moving up your body. he shoved his shorts down just enough, freeing himself, and settled between your spread legs. you nodded quickly, breathing fast. “please… i need it.” you continued on.
rafe leaned down, kissing you softly as he lined himself up. he rubbed the head of his cock against your soaked entrance, then started pushing in, very slow and careful.
just the tip stretched you open, and you gasped, body tensing hard. it was a lot. your hands flew to his shoulders, gripping tight as you struggled to adjust.
“shh, easy baby,” rafe murmured, voice low and sweet against your ear. he stayed perfectly still, only the head inside you. “you’re doing so good already. just breathe for me. we’ve got all the time you need, okay? i’m not gonna hurt you.” he says sweetly.
you whimpered, nodding, trying to relax around his thick tip. “that’s my good girl,” he praised, kissing your neck and jaw. “you can take it. just let me in nice and slow… there you go.” he continued.
he pushed forward another inch, then stopped again, letting you feel every bit of him. his hand stroked your hair, thumb brushing your cheek as he whispered encouragement. “look at you… so tight and pretty for me. you’re doing perfect, baby. whenever you’re ready, i’ll give you more. no rush.”
after a few deep breaths, the stretch started turning into something hotter. you nodded again, and rafe began moving, continuing the slow, shallow thrusts, easing more of his cock into you with every gentle rock of his hips. he kept talking you through it, voice warm and steady.
“feel that? that’s all for you. just relax and let me fuck you nice and slow… good girl. you’re taking me so well already.” he kept that gentle rhythm, letting you feel every inch as he worked himself deeper, patient and sweet while your body slowly opened up for him.
rafe kept his pace slow and deep, rocking into you with steady thrusts that gradually grew stronger. your legs were spread wide open for him, knees bent and falling further apart with every push of his hips. they bounced and shook each time he sank back in, the soft flesh of your thighs jiggling from the impact.
you were holding onto him for dear life. arms wrapped tightly around his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as your body rocked beneath him. every thrust pulled a shaky moan from your throat, your chest pressed flush against his while he fucked you.
“fuck… you feel so good,” he groaned against your neck, one hand gripping your thigh to keep you spread nice and wide for him. “look at these legs… all open for me.” he said.
your grip on him tightened as he thrust a little deeper, your walls fluttering around his cock. you buried your face in his shoulder, breathing hard, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded while he filled you over and over again.
the wet sounds of him sliding in and out mixed with your soft, desperate moans, your body bouncing gently on the floor with each roll of his hips. rafe kissed the side of your head, still talking you through it in that low, sweet voice. “that’s it, baby… just hold onto me. you’re taking my cock so fucking well.” he said.
rafe kept fucking you with his deep, and steady thrusts. your legs spread wide and bouncing softly with every roll of his hips. you were still clinging to him tightly when you reached up and tugged desperately at the bottom of his shirt.
“take it off,” you breathed.
he didn’t hesitate. rafe slowed his thrusts just enough to yank his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, since he has done it so many times, tossing it aside. the second his bare chest pressed against yours, you pulled him down harder, craving his mouth.
he leaned all the way down, covering your body with his as he kissed you. at first your kissing was eager but messy, a little too much tongue too fast, lips slipping awkwardly as you tried to keep up.
rafe smiled against your mouth. “slow down, baby,” he murmured, voice husky. “watch…”
he took control, tilting his head slightly and kissing you deeper, slower. his tongue slid sensually along yours, teasing and stroking in long, wet strokes that made your stomach flutter. you tried to match him but slipped again, pushing your tongue too eagerly. he gently sucked on your bottom lip, correcting you.
“easy… let me lead,” he whispered. “open your mouth a little more… yeah, you got it baby.” he coos.
then he really kissed you, hot, filthy, and unhurried. his tongue licked into your mouth deeply, curling around yours in slow, sexy strokes.
wet sounds filled the space between you as he fucked you and kissed you at the same time, tongues sliding and tangling sensually. every time you messed up the rhythm he fixed it with a soft groan, guiding you until you were kissing him back perfectly, sloppy, passionate, tongue heavy making out that left you both breathless.
you moaned into his mouth, legs trembling around his waist as he kept thrusting into you, never breaking the intense kiss. his tongue explored yours like he owned it, slow and dirty, sucking lightly on your tongue before sliding back in deep again.
“good girl” he praised against your lips once more, then dove right back in for another kiss. rafe groaned against your mouth as you kept kissing him, your tongues sliding hot and wet together. he could feel how desperate you were getting, the way your pussy clenched around him tighter with every thrust.
“you want it harder, baby?” he rasped, breaking the kiss just enough to look at you. you nodded, biting your lip. his hips snapped forward suddenly, driving his cock deeper and faster. your legs bounced harder, spread wide and shaking as he started fucking you with more force.
you cried out, nails digging into his back as he picked up the pace. the wet slap of skin on skin got louder, his thrusts turning rougher, pounding into you steadily. every hard stroke hit that perfect spot inside you, making your whole body jolt.
“rafe—fuck—” you moaned, holding onto him tighter, legs trembling uncontrollably around his waist. “that’s it,” he encouraged, fucking you harder, deeper, one hand gripping your thigh to keep you spread open for him. “cum on my cock, baby. i can feel how close you are.” he continues.
rafe kept pounding into you harder, hips snapping with deep, relentless thrusts that made your whole body bounce beneath him. your legs stayed spread wide, trembling violently as your orgasm crashed over you.
“rafe—!” you cried out, back arching hard off the floor as you came hard on his cock. your pussy clenched and pulsed around him in tight, wet spasms, gushing slick, creamy liquid all over his thick shaft. the warm wetness painted his dick with every thrust, coating him shiny and messy, dripping down his balls as he fucked you through it.
he looked down between your bodies, groaning loudly at the sight. “fuck, baby… look at that. you’re soaking my dick so good,” he rasped, voice strained with lust. he didn’t slow down, sliding in and out of your spasming, drenched pussy, the wet sounds even filthier now as your cum coated every inch of him.
your body kept twitching and jerking, soft whimpers falling from your lips while he kept thrusting through your orgasm, his cock glistening with your release.
➤ summary: Rafe agreed to bet on you with his friends in hopes of getting you out of his system. but when he got hooked on you, the last thing that he ever wanted was you finding out the truth in the worst way
➤ w/c: 6.6k
➤ warnings: the whole bet situation, misogynistic men, creepy men, non-descriptive mention of sex, rafe is literally a lover boy and so down bad, lots of crying
➤ a/n: I am back after such a long break with another long fic (per usual). so happy to get back here and write about my favorite emotionally unstable boy again💘
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The party in Rafe’s house was loud; you could barely squeeze through people with Sarah clinging onto your arm while you tried to find Rafe. You saw his buzzed head over the crowd, as he was seemingly higher above everybody else, and you tried your best to not trip over random drunk kooks while going towards him.
That other part of the house seemed like a breath of fresh air; your eyes locked with Topper’s, who was talking to Rafe, and you managed a friendly smile as you stepped closer to the circle of his friends, ready to say something. That was until you stopped sooner than your brain could actually process the words that reached you, until Topper started talking to Rafe, who was oblivious of your presence, throwing glances at you like he wanted you to hear it.
“...Like, bro, I know the prize is good, but I didn’t think you would actually spend three months with her.” The words washed over you like a bucket of ice-cold water, you froze in place, furrowing for a second and thinking that you were just imagining things. But Sarah’s quiet “what the hell?” snapped you back into reality.
“I told y’all—” Rafe started, irritation bleeding into his voice as he rolled the bottle between his fingers, jaw tight.
“Shit.” Kelce chimed in, laughing. “Poor girl, she’s already hooked. He doesn’t even gotta entertain her anymore. Game’s over.”
“Nah, Cameron just wanted to fuck.” Another voice said. Your ears started ringing, throat suddenly felt tight from the tears forming in your eyes. All of the guys started laughing like there was something funny about it, when all you could feel was the forming hole in your chest.
“Stop fucking saying that.” Rafe grumbled, clearly not happy about it, yet still not denying the whole bet thing.
Topper leaned in, smirk wide, clearly fueled by the chaos. “Aw, come on, man. Don’t act all holy now. We all saw how she was all over you after you hit it. Was the pussy worth the wasted time, at least?”
Rafe’s hand shot out before he even realized it, shoving Topper back so hard he nearly stumbled into the wall. “I said to shut your fucking mouth before I—”
“You can’t be serious, Rafe.” That was the moment Sarah spoke up, disgusted and surprised by the audacity. You felt all of the eyes landing on you instantly, even though you could swear that they started this conversation in the first place just because of you, just to humiliate you and get some kind of satisfaction from it.
Though when Rafe turned around, the bottle in his hand hit the floor, all the color from his face drained instantly, and his eyes were big and petrified. He shook his head no, walking towards you with hands in front of him, as he was ready to start explaining, apologizing—doing whatever it takes to recover from this mess.
But your eyes, still fixated on him, got filled with tears instantly, no matter how hard you tried to even your breathing. Your vision was blurred, and your face and neck started burning from pure humiliation because these people around you were still gawking at the scene like there was something funny. You didn’t even let Rafe open his mouth before your hand slipped from Sarah’s grip, and you ran towards the exit, pushing through people.
“No, please wait!” You heard Rafe’s voice behind you, his hand briefly catching yours before he was separated from you by the random couple who couldn’t move from his way.
You pushed the wooden door outside, the breeze kissed your wet cheeks while you breathed hard, trying to figure out where to go and what to do. But then he was right behind you again, though this time his presence didn’t bring you peace like it did for the past three months; now it suffocated you, it made you feel disgusted with yourself for ever falling into such a stupid and obvious trap.
“Let me explain—” Rafe started, eyes apologetic, while his hand touched your upper arm to bring you closer.
“Don’t touch me!” You almost screamed, yanking your hand back like his touch burned you.
“Please—”
“No! G-get away from me.” You cried, stepping back, hiding from him, and he thought that sight alone—of you scared, ashamed, and in tears—might kill him right then and there. “You—you made a bet on me. You… slept with me and laughed about it with your friends.” Your voice cracked, shaking with rage and humiliation, tears streaming freely now. You couldn’t let him say a word. You didn’t want to hear his excuses, his apologies—nothing.
Rafe froze, his lips opening, but you cut him off, stepping back and shaking your head violently. “I don’t want to hear it, Rafe! Don’t touch me! Don’t—just don’t.” His fists clenched, his jaw tightening, and his whole body seemed like it wanted to storm forward and do anything to make you listen, but you weren’t giving him the chance.
“Come on.” Sarah appeared suddenly, grabbing your elbow gently but with authority and not even sparing her brother a glance. “We’re leaving. Now.” You didn’t argue. You let her pull you away, your sobs muffled against her shoulder.
Rafe’s voice followed you, desperate and angry. “Wait—please—”
But he was left alone, just looking at you going further and further away from him.
He let out a shaky breath as the reality of everything now fully hit him. This was the end. You would never forgive him for the shit that he’d done—for the lie, the humiliation, the laughter of his friends, and for the damn bet itself. Rafe sat on the cold concrete, swearing at himself and replaying the memories that now seemed like the only thing left that he had of you.
He remembered when he first properly talked to you, not in big crowds of mutual friends, but really talked. That little crush that he secretly had on you didn’t help the situation either. Because of the way you smiled at him and let him sit beside you, while he tried to charm you, or the moment you started laughing and looking at him with those eyes, he knew he was fucked. The whole plan to just get to know you just to prove himself wrong about liking you, and the bet itself, seemed like the most useless thing from that moment on.
He remembered taking you on dates, and not the expensive, over-the-top ones, but coffee dates, picnics at the beach, and walks around the island during the night when you both couldn’t stop thinking about each other and just wanted a chance to talk. It was when he knew the prize didn’t matter anymore, that he had lost it in more ways than one, but it was the last thing he cared about when he could finally spend time with you.
He remembered the way you looked at him like no one else ever had—like you were listening, like you were interested, like things that he said and felt mattered to you. And you could pick up on everything that upset him, making the ache in his chest just a little bit easier with a simple touch of your hand against his.
He remembered kissing you for the first time. And second… and all of the others that came after that, because your lips, your body pressed to his, your hands on his face or around his neck, and your smile when you pulled back? Yeah, that was totally fucking up his mind.
He remembered the sight of you under him when one night those kisses turned into more, drowning in his pillows and leaving your scent there long after you were gone. That look in your soft and trusting eyes when you let him take control, when they studied his body above you with that weird twinkle in them. Your skin was so soft and delicate under his hands, so he couldn’t stop himself from touching you every second.
He remembered how his lips trailed along your chest, collarbones, neck, your face, peppering you with kisses against his own will—because you were intoxicating in the best way possible. And the moment he reached your lips, the way a power stronger than him lured him closer to you. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t get enough of your taste and the feeling of your mouth moving against his.
He remembered the way you felt, the way your nails scratched his back and tugged at his hair, the way you whispered his name, and the way your body was melting into him.
And when you two reached the end? His name rolled off your tongue so sweetly and easily, making goosebumps cover his skin. Your hands tugged him down until his weight dropped on top of you—chest to chest, heavy breathing, and sweaty. Rafe couldn’t move, didn’t want to; with his face buried against your neck and hands holding your body, he cursed himself for ever taking part in that stupid bet or even thinking that sleeping with you would take the edge off.
Because now he knew, more than ever, that he was totally hooked onto you, and it wasn’t just physical attraction—it never was.
Even before getting into his room, Rafe knew that he should stop. Should just tell you the truth and pray that you would forgive him for even trying to play with your feelings, because at that moment the realization that he wanted all of it to be real hit him like a ton of bricks. Yet, the other voice in his head just couldn’t let him ruin it, couldn’t bring himself to risk it. Not right now. Not when you were clinging to him and intoxicating him with your presence, when it felt so intimate and real.
He would tell you. He would confess. Just not right now.
That was the memory he couldn’t stop from playing on the loop. Not because it was the best sex in his life, even though it definitely was, but because he ruined it in the worst way possible, making it seem like it was nothing for him, when in fact it was everything.
When Rafe returned back into the main room, he swore everything seemed and felt ten times worse. From the loud music that made his head ache to his annoying friends as they were pulling him closer into their circle. Top’s heavy arm landed around his neck, and Rafe ground his teeth against each other to stop himself from pushing his friend away.
“Damn, Cameron.” Kelce said, clapping him on the shoulder a little too hard. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Topper laughed, wide and careless, swinging him from side to side. “Told you. Three months was generous.”
Some other guys laughed, nodding their heads in approval, praising him like he had done something extraordinary. Rafe didn’t move; he just looked at them with disgust, wondering how he could fall so low.
They took his silence as him being humble, and that was the worst part, because everything inside him was bubbling from the way they treated you like a joke.
Kelce leaned closer and grinned like an idiot, thinking that the way you ran away was a confirmation of the end of your relationship. “Now that she’s really done with, she freaky or just… vanilla?”
Rafe’s nostrils flared at Kelce’s words, hands pushed away both him and Topper, who stumbled back with an amused laugh. He couldn’t even name the things that he felt at that moment, but the need to shut them up was burning him alive—something that he had never experienced before.
“I swear to God, if you say another word about her, I’m gonna break your jaw.”
“Woah, woah, dude!” The laughter stuttered, confused. “We’re just sayin’, you won.”
“I didn’t win shit.”
Kelce scoffed. “Bro, we saw her reaction like ten minutes ago. We know you hit it, so the money is yours.”
Rafe’s hands curled into fists before he pressed them against his eyes, angry all over again with the way they were estimating you. With the way they talked about you, like you were just a body, just something he used for fun.
Were they really that ignorant and just… fucking stupid? He could still see your face, clear as day, the moment he realized you were behind him—the initial shock, disbelief, and then acceptance, all while tears were glimmering in your eyes and the look in them made his blood run cold.
They hurt you. He hurt you. Even if he didn’t mean to and long ago decided to quit this damn bet, he still was dumb enough to participate in it to begin with. Looking back now, Rafe was disgusted with himself more than ever for being just another frat guy and for proving everyone’s point and all the rumors about him.
Disgusted that you told him that you saw a better side of him, yet he humiliated you in the worst way possible.
Topper sighed, annoyed now. “Look, man. No one forced you. You said yes. You played the game.”
“I know that it’s my fault. But who fucking asked you to run your mouth in front of her? You knew she was right behind me.” He snapped again, grabbing a random cup from the table nearby and drowning the strong-smelling liquid.
Kelce rolled his eyes. “Don’t pin that on us. You should’ve told her sooner if you were feeling all guilty about it.”
“I know what I should’ve done, I wanted to do it tonight.” Rafe yelled back, tossing the cup on the floor. “I fucking told you that I was done, that you won, and I don’t need your shit. You—you fucking knew she was standing behind me. You knew! That she could hear you. And you did that on purpose, huh?” He was getting angrier, louder, his usual fiery temper being fueled by the memory of your face plastered in his head and by the way all of his friends seemed like they couldn’t care less about everything.
“Chill out, man. It was supposed to be fun, just a joke.” One of the other guys chuckled nonchalantly, fully oblivious that all of them were just minutes away from Rafe lashing out.
“You actin’ like you’re in love or some shit.” Topper said half-joking, but it made Rafe freeze instantly. His face became deadly still, contrasting with the way his heart started bumping against his ribs like crazy. He licked his lips nervously—a gesture that none of the guys noticed, or, at least, couldn’t interpret in the right way—and then his eyes narrowed like a sudden realization hit him.
“Get out.” He said plainly.
“What?” A few voices asked back.
“I said—get out.” He stepped back, keeping his eyes locked on the group in front of him, then reaching to turn the annoying and blasting music off. All of the other heads turned to him in question, as it was way too early for Cameron's famous party to be over. “Everyone. Get the fuck out of my house. Now.” He screamed louder, making sure that everyone could hear him.
People looked at each other confused, but seeing how dead-serious Rafe was, they started slowly leaving the mansion, whispering to each other and throwing confused glances at him.
“Dude, you can’t be serious, we—“ Topper started, but Rafe didn’t let him finish.
“Am I not fucking clear?”
And just like that, it took a few more minutes for Rafe to finally be left alone. He slammed the front door, turning around and then sliding down on the floor right then and there.
The house was empty now, except for the countless bottles, cups, random confetti, and just a mess left by people he would rather not even see. Now he was alone. Alone with his thoughts, sitting with his head in his hands, he cursed himself again and again.
It felt like you and whatever trust you had in him were his opportunity to do something special—something just for him and not for the crowd and snobs he had been surrounded with his whole life. If he played it right, if he just approached you like a normal human being the moment you caught his eyes, before the whole bet, it could’ve been different now. It could’ve been different if he at least had enough courage to tell you the truth before his friends ran their mouths, if he explained everything to you—that he did bet on you, that he was sorry, that he knew you deserved better, that he still wanted you more than anything.
But he didn’t. And now he was paying for it.
•••
Before you opened the door, you knew who was standing behind it, yet seeing Rafe for the first time since that party felt really weird. By the way his eyes went wide, you figured he expected to be ignored again, the way he was all the other times he came and knocked, desperately wishing he could just talk to you and explain everything. For some reason, this time your inner voice told you to finally face him, because the gnawing feeling and thoughts about everything started to become more than you could handle.
After that night you went through all the spectrum of emotions—from shock to sadness to anger to constant self-picking. You couldn’t believe, and didn’t want to, that all of it was fake. That all the rumors and all the warnings you heard about Rafe were true. Because how could he possibly play it that well, to the point that you truly and wholeheartedly thought that you saw the real him—soft and caring, sweet in the moments when other people weren’t around?
So when the truth came to the surface, when Topper started talking about it in front of Rafe and all of their friends, you felt like you were betrayed. Because, apparently, all of these things were just a play. You were just a bet and an opportunity for Rafe to get whatever prize they agreed on. Meaning that you made all that up in your head, and for these past few days you couldn’t help but feel disgusted with yourself.
“I— I wasn’t expecting you to open the door.” Rafe’s hoarse voice pulled you back into reality, and you blinked a few times to focus on the face that you now hated and missed at the same time. Your eyes studied him just for a few moments before falling to the giant bouquet of flowers he held in one of his hands. It was really massive, definitely the biggest and most expensive of all he ever bought for you. “These are for you.”
He held the bouquet out, but you shook your head no. “You’re trying to buy my forgiveness?” Your voice sounded way too raspy and fragile even for your own ears, and you didn’t miss the way Rafe’s lips pursed for a second in what seemed like sadness.
“No. It's the least I could do. But you like flowers, and I thought you deserved something beautiful after I fucked everything up.”
“Oh, you mean after you publicly humiliated me and laughed about it with your friends?” You shot back immediately, noticing the way he took a deep breath, lowering flowers back to his side and nodding to himself like he knew he deserved it.
“I didn't laugh with them. I kicked them out that night and haven’t talked to them ever since, because— Fuck, just let me explain everything? Please.” You hesitated. Every instinct screamed to shut the door in his face, to protect what was left of your pride. But another part of you—the stupid, soft part that still remembered his hands warm on your waist, his forehead pressed to yours when he kissed you so softly it made you melt against him—stepped aside.
“Just because I want the whole story. Five minutes.” You said, opening the door wider. “That’s it.”
He walked into the familiar space of your house, going into the kitchen and feeling slightly dizzy from the scent that was unmistakably just yours—the one that he got used to over such a short time and now craved like crazy. The flowers were placed on the counter carefully, like Rafe was making a point that they were just for you and he had no intention of leaving with them.
You stood at a safe distance in front of him, your hands crossed over your chest, and eyes waiting for him to start speaking.
“There was a bet.” He finally started, standing almost awkwardly in front of you—something that you had never seen before and that was so unusual for him. “That I can sleep with you. And I accepted it because I was already crushing on you and thought that it would just get you out of my system.”
“Wow.” Hearing it being said by him hurt ten times more than you expected. “So… The main goal was to get me into your bed?” You whispered, your voice much calmer than you felt inside.
He hesitated. “That’s what we agreed on, yes… But when it happened between us, I did it not because I wanted to win anything, but because it was you and…it was just real to me.”
“That’s still fucked up.”
“I know! I know how stupid that was, that I agreed to playing with someone’s feelings just because I was scared of my own.” He groaned, rubbing his buzzed head in a way he always did when everything became too much. You hated that you picked up on those signs.
“Well, you sure as hell didn’t care about my feelings when you hid the truth from me. Now I don’t even know what was true and what you were just acting.” You stopped when a lump in your throat made your voice sound weak. “I feel like everything was just a game, that it means nothing, and that I’m just an idiot who fell for the charm.”
“I was lying to myself, and I was lying to them, but not to you. Never to you.” Rafe’s eyes started shining when he stepped just a bit closer, as if out of habit trying to reach out to you. “Since the moment we started talking, everything that I said and done, every time I held your hand or kissed you, when we were together that night… It was me. These were my real feelings for you.”
“I knew I was done with the bet when we just talked for half an hour that first time and you gave me your number. God— I knew I wouldn’t be able to fake it or to hurt you because the real you was even better than the one I admired from afar. I told them I was done, they knew that I wanted to tell the truth that night at a party. But fucking Topper thought it would be fun to talk about it when you walked into the room.”
Your breath was uneven as you tried to hold back your tears, to not crumble in front of him. You held yourself tighter, unable to speak for a few moments, and hated the fact that despite the heartbreak, despite the pain and tons of self-doubt this situation had brought you, you couldn’t see anything but sincerity in Rafe’s eyes.
“How much did you tell them? Because the things that they said… I felt humiliated, Rafe. They laughed that they knew everything about us, about me, and I swear if you told them—“
“No! Hell no, I didn’t. That wasn’t part of the deal.” He shook his head, and hands flew in the air in defense. “I was supposed to show them proof of us sleeping together, but I didn’t. I swear on fucking everything that they know nothing about us or about you. I didn’t care to tell them a single thing because I was scared they would ruin everything with you. And they proved me right.” You stayed silent, chewing on your lip when relief and another wave of unmistakable sadness washed over you. Rafe’s voice softened when he continued. “I’m so sorry, baby. For lying, for hiding it from you, for the things that you heard from them. You were not just a body, you were the only thing that I was looking forward to every single day. And I know how much it hurt you, so I’m not asking you to forgive me now, but just know that I’ll do anything to win your trust back.”
You started crying again, hating yourself and him for everything that was happening. You tried to wipe the tears as they were rolling down your cheeks, sniffing every few seconds. And Rafe just stood there helpless and heartbroken, because he knew that now he had no right to even touch you.
“You did hurt me. I was blaming myself for it during all these days…”
“I’m so sorry.” He whispered again.
“…And I hear what you’re saying, but it doesn’t fix how I feel right now. I can’t trust you. Not now. I need time away from you.
Rafe’s face fell even though he expected those exact words, even though he knew he deserved it. He nodded, studying you once again and wondering whether it was the last time he had the opportunity to be so close to you.
“I understand.”
•••
When you stood at the fluorescent lights of some creepy-looking gas station far away even from the cut, you didn’t know whether the goosebumps on your skin were from the unusually chilly Outer Banks night or because the atmosphere of the place genuinely petrified you.
You didn’t mean to end up there, but your sudden decision to just go somewhere alone and clear up your mind came to you out of nowhere, and you hit the road when the sun was almost setting. On your way back, everything went well, up until the moment you heard a weird noise under your car and it started swaying weirdly. You managed to make it to the gas station that was nearby, only to find out that you had a flat tire. And you didn’t have a spare.
You looked around you cautiously, seeing nothing except the gas station itself and vast empty space all around you. Not a single soul except for the man that you could faintly see through the front window. Trying to calm yourself down, you tried to think rationally. It was late, you had no spare—and even if you did, you didn’t know how to deal with it—and you quite literally had no idea how to get back to your house safely.
It was probably a bad decision, but with slightly trembling hands and an uneasy feeling, you went inside of the gas station. The middle-aged man behind the counter looked you up and down the moment you walked in, and you knew that it didn’t mean any good. A slight smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his greasy, overgrown hair constantly falling over his eyes, and he brushed it away with weird, childlike movements.
“Evenin’.” He smiled, slightly leaning over.
“Um— I have a flat tire and was wondering if you know someone who can fix it? Like a mechanic, perhaps?” You mumbled, slowly looking around the dimly lit room with half of the lights blinking like in the worst horror movie.
“Nah, there are no car repairs nearby. Phone’s not workin’. But I can take a look…” His eyes slowly looked down your body again, and it made you feel physically sick, as every part of your brain screamed at you to get away from that place as fast as possible. “For a price, of course.”
You blinked at him, mortified, before taking a step back and clutching a phone harder in your hands. “I think I’m good.”
You rushed out of the building, going back to your car and locking yourself inside. Your heart was pounding harder with every second as you cursed yourself for even leaving the house today. Looking down at your phone, your eyes locked on the dying battery that was currently at twelve percent before quickly opening your contacts and scrolling through them.
He was your first thought. No matter what, it was like an instinct that developed over the few months you were together. You spend another minute looking at the phone numbers of your girlfriends who, honestly, couldn’t help you in any way, and… that was pretty much it.
The notification about low battery lit up on the phone, and before you could think about it longer, the survival instinct hit you and you called Rafe on autopilot. Because he was safe, he could help you, he wouldn’t just hang up on you even after all those days you spent without any contact.
“Hello?” His slightly surprised voice answered on the second ring, and you let out a shaky breath from the slight feeling of relief that it brought you. “Are you okay?” He asked, as if sensing your distress even being miles away.
“I’m—” Your breath shook. “Rafe, I’m stuck. My tire blew. I’m at this gas station, I don’t even know where I am, and there’s this guy, and he’s—he’s weird, and I’m scared.”
“What?” The word came sharp, all softness gone. “Where are you?”
“I don’t know exactly. But it’s the road up north, further away from the cut… Rafe, I don’t know what to do, my phone is dying.” You half whispered, resting your head against the wheel and looking down at your phone. Eight percent.
He stayed silent for a few moments, yet you could hear the rummaging and slamming of the doors on the other end. “Up north… Do you remember that diner we stopped at before our date? Have you seen it on your way?”
You furrowed for a few seconds, remembering that night when Rafe promised you to show you a cool place outside of the town. It was dark, so you didn’t know where you were going, and you didn’t care as long as it was with him, but you stopped at the diner to get some food. That night you took a picture of the sign because it was fluorescent pink—the one that you had never seen before… except today on your way here.”
“I did! I saw it, like, fifteen minutes before ending up here.” You breathed shakily. “I’m at five percent, Rafe.”
“Good. That’s good.” His voice was gruff, the engine of the car softly murmuring in the background. “Lock the doors and don’t open them, okay? I know where you are. I’m gonna be there in fifteen, I promise. You—“
The call ended, and you stared back at your own reflection on the screen. Now it was deadly silent, but at least you hoped that Rafe could find you before anyone else could. You stayed in the same position with your head down for a while, thinking that maybe this way you wouldn’t overthink and see the moving shadows outside, that you could focus on your breathing and not the creepy dude that could probably see your car through the window.
The knock made you jump, your heart rate skyrocketing when the face of the same guy looked at you at a much closer distance than you would prefer. The man from the gas station was standing right by your window now, face lit from below by the ugly fluorescent lights, features sharper and meaner up close. He bent down a little, peering inside your car like you were some kind of display.
“Hey.” He said, knocking again, harder this time. “You sure you don’t want help? It’s cold out here. Ain’t safe for a girl to sit alone at night.”
Your stomach twisted. You shook your head quickly, not trusting your voice, and mouthed no. He frowned, eyes sliding over you in a way that made your skin crawl.
“C’mon.” He pressed, trying the door handle. It didn’t budge, but the sound alone made your breath hitch. “I’m just tryin’ to be nice.”
Your pulse roared in your ears. You grabbed your dead phone instinctively, even though the screen was black now, useless. You felt a lump in your throat and tears burning your eyes because, quite literally, you were trapped—there was nothing you could do or say to make him go away, there was no one who could help you and protect you if he decided to do something.
You grabbed the door handle from the inside as if it could help you to keep it closed while he was pulling at it from the outside, and that was the moment when the headlights blinked at you from another car—the one that made your body sink against your driving seat on instinct.
Rafe’s truck roared near your car, gravel screeching under the weight, as he parked nearby, instantly jumping out. The moment he saw another figure, clearly a man, towering over your car, he saw red. His nostrils flared, jaw tightened, and fists clenched and ready to deal with the guy if he started acting up.
“Get the fuck away from her.” Rafe’s voice boomed in the empty space, and the man stepped back with a fake-innocent smile. He was shorter and seemingly more clumsy, so when Rafe shoved him back and stepped between your car and him, the man shrank himself, not being so confident now.
“Relax, man, I was talkin’ with a pretty woman in need.”
“You will be the one in need if you don’t get the fuck away from my girl’s car.”
The man’s eyes slightly widened at the tone of Rafe’s voice. He stepped back with hands still in the air, not looking at you anymore, and instead keeping his eyes on Rafe, who was looking at him like a predator on his prey. And the moment the guy walked back into the building, slow and cautious, Rafe’s demeanor changed instantly—he still felt the leftover of that sudden anger that enveloped him, but when he turned around and looked down and saw your face, he let out a shaken breath.
You unlocked the door, getting out on trembling legs. Your eyes were hungry, taking Rafe in. All those days after he left your house, you spent thinking about the whole situation, hyperanalyzing every detail and trying to figure out your emotions. Yet, no matter any concerns that your mind raised, the one prominent thought you kept coming back to was that you missed Rafe. It was as simple as that. You missed his presence, his voice, his touch, the way he treated you… And now, being incredibly shaken and scared, there was no second thought before you fell into his arms—the only place that seemed safe enough.
You melted against him, you touched him for the first time in weeks, and it made his head short-circuit. He froze for half a second, like his body needed permission from his brain to believe this was real. Then he wrapped you up. Hard and desperate. One arm around your shoulders, the other pressed flat to your lower back, anchoring you to him like if he let go you’d disappear again. Your face buried itself into his chest, nose pressing against worn cotton and the familiar scent that made your throat tighten instantly. Rafe’s chin dropped to the top of your head, his breath shaky as hell.
“You’re okay.” He murmured, not even sure whether he was saying it to you or himself. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
Your fingers curled into his hoodie on instinct, and you didn’t even realize you were shaking until he did—until his hand started rubbing slow, grounding circles over your back, like he was afraid that he was not allowed to touch you anymore. Not after the way he betrayed your trust.
“I was so scared. ” You whispered, the words muffled. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
“I’m so happy that you did, bab—” He cut himself off, wincing when the usual nickname almost rolled off his tongue. “I’m sorry.”
You pulled away slowly, shaking your head, and trying to recollect yourself despite the growing pit of your stomach—now not from fear, but from the weird situation that you and Rafe ended up in.
The silence stretched; the distance between you felt awkward when you both locked eyes on each other but didn’t know how to deal with everything. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and Rafe finally spoke up. “I know a guy. I’m gonna call him to tow the car and take care of it, ‘kay?” He didn't wait for your reply before walking a few steps away to make a phone call, talking with a guy in a hushed tone, but he kept throwing glances at you as if to make sure that you were still there and okay.
“He’s gonna be here in fifteen. We can—”
“I’ll pay you back.” You cut him off.
“What?” He laughed, genuinely confused.
“It’s late, we’re in the middle of nowhere, and repairing itself... I know it’s expensive, and I’m not gonna ask you to cover that.” Your eyes kept darting everywhere, suddenly exposed in front of him.
“It’s not your problem. You’re not paying anything because I’m taking care of it.”
“But Rafe—”
“No.” He said firmer, not missing the way your lips pouted. “Now, let’s get into the truck.” You barely had time to react before he was already opening the passenger door of his car, the inside glowing warm and safe compared to the sickly fluorescent lights outside. “Please. It’s cold, and I want you where I can see you.”
The second you climbed in, the warmth hit you, and with it your hands started shaking before you could stop them, fingers curling uselessly in your sleeves. When Rafe got into the driver’s seat, his presence and his familiar scent enveloped you. You could feel his eyes locked in on you—soft, steady, and caring—while he waited for the smallest sign from you.
He reached forward slowly; his fingers brushed yours where they rested in your lap, tentative, asking. When you didn’t pull away, his hand closed around yours fully in an anchoring way that made you suck in a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
“You okay?” Rafe asked softly.
“I don’t know. I was so scared, and my phone was dying, and…” You stopped yourself to think, to check in with yourself that it was actually what you wanted to say. “The only thing that felt right was to call you.”
“I’m glad you did. No matter what happened between us, I’m here. Always.” He leaned a little bit closer to you, head dipping lower to catch your eyes. His hand squeezed yours twice, and you squeezed it back, making a soft smile appear on Rafe’s lips.
The tow truck’s headlights appeared in the distance, cutting through the dark. Rafe glanced at them, then back at you, reluctant to let go, needing a few more moments with your hands in his, with you finally close to him after so many days without any contact.
“This doesn’t fix anything.” You said softly.
“No.” He agreed. “But I will fix it.”
Before you could overthink it, you tilted your head and pressed a slow, gentle kiss to the corner of his lips. Barely there. Soft. But enough for his heart to make a leap. Enough for his breath to hitch and lips to start tingling from the simple touch.
He smiled and for a second didn’t say anything at all. He just looked at you, eyes flicking from your lips back to your eyes, like he was grounding himself there. His thumb brushed over your knuckles once, slow and absentminded, as he clearly wanted to do or say more but stopped himself to not overstep that fragile line.
“I’m gonna take care of everything and will be right back, okay?”
And when you settled in the passenger seat, a little bit sleepier now, you looked at Rafe through the front window, admitting to yourself that he was still the one for you.
