rafe cameron was an asshole. to everyone. he was mean just to be mean, cocky just to be cocky, and downright cruel when he wanted to be. nobody crossed him. nobody got close. nobody except her.
behind closed doors, rafe was a whole different person. soft. needy. clingy as fuck. and no one—i mean no one—could ever know.
he was already half-asleep, his body practically melting into hers, when she started shifting.
“where are you going?” his voice was groggy, muffled against her skin.
“bathroom,” she whispered, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.
he groaned, arms tightening around her for a second like he was debating just holding her hostage. but after a deep sigh, he let her go, flopping onto his back.
she got up, stretching as she walked toward the door. she didn’t even make it three steps before she heard him shuffling behind her.
she turned to look at him. “are you serious?”
he didn’t say anything, just rubbed his eyes and followed her like a damn lost puppy.
she sighed but didn’t argue, too tired to question it at this point.
when she sat down on the toilet, he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. she gave him a look.
“do you have to be in here?”
he shrugged, tilting his head back against the mirror.
“you’re literally insane,” she muttered, washing her hands as he waited, quiet and content just being in her presence.
the second she was done, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her into his chest like he’d been deprived of her for hours instead of seconds.
“you’re so dramatic,” she teased, letting him squeeze her tight.
he hummed, not even denying it.
when she made her way downstairs to get water?there he was again, right behind her, practically stepping on her heels.
“rafe.”
he didn’t respond, just wrapped himself around her from behind the second she stopped in front of the fridge, arms locked around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder.
she groaned, twisting off the cap of her water bottle. “you’re insufferable.”
“mhm.”
“like, actually.”
“yep.”
she sighed, sipping her water as he just stayed there, clinging to her like a damn koala.
when they got back upstairs, he wasted no time yanking her onto the bed, wrapping himself around her like she was his personal security blanket.
she sighed, running her fingers through his hair. “you know, if people knew how clingy you are, your whole reputation would be ruined.”
his arms tightened around her waist, he had the most serious look plastered on his face.
“if you tell anyone, i swear—”
she bursts out laughing. “relax, rafe. your secret’s safe with me.”
he huffed, burying his face in her neck. “good. now shut up and let me hold you.”
NOTES ⭑.ᐟ this is in fact one of my first works, so thank u for reading ! remember that all content you consume is your own choice.
WORD COUNT ⭑.ᐟ 1.2k.
AUTHOR’S NOTE ⭑.ᐟ feedback, reblogs, etc are much appreciated and encouraged!!
it was late.
late enough that most of the neighborhood was asleep, leaving the house quiet aside from the giggles coming from your living room.
rafe had come over to drop off some of your daughters clothes that were left at his house, deciding to stay for an extra hour or two per your daughters request— opting to put her to bed.
you’d stayed out of his way, like you usually did, not wanting to give him the impression that you missed him, even if you did— you were cordial. you invited him to birthday parties, family gatherings that included your daughter, keeping him up to date when it came to vacations, and letting him come over when you wanted to go out.
rafe acted the same way he did before your daughter was in the picture. he was more attentive than he was back then, more considerate and consistent with the time he reserved for you both, but still impulsive with his actions.
“y’gonna stay in here and avoid me the whole night, baby?” his voice rang out from the doorway, snapping you out of whatever trance you were in before. you turned your head to look at him, setting the sponge you were holding against the counter, letting out a sigh.
“you’re here for june,” you mumbled, your eyes slipping to the floor. “not me.”
he let out a gruff hum, his jaw ticking when you looked away from him, raising a brow as if he didn’t know why you didn’t wanna look at him. his boots shuffled on the floor, walking closer to you till he was leaned against the counter, eyes raking over your form. he crossed his arms again, staring back at you. “what, you— you seein’ another guy?” he accused, letting out that familiar scoff you knew all to well.
your brows furrowed at his assumption, letting out a quiet huff of air, lifting your head to look at him. “what are you talking about, rafe?” you sighed, already feeling the tension build.
he let out a dry chuckle, like what you said was funny, before biting the inside of his cheek. “you think i don’t know why you’re bein’ like this? why you’re avoiding me every chance you get?”
he took a step closer to you, his hand reaching out to curl around your jawline, lifting your head up further to meet his gaze. “you miss me,” he murmured, his blue eyes searching yours. “i know you do, quit denyin’ it.”
you listened to him speak, your lips parting to reply, before they slipped shut again. you couldn’t think straight— not when he looked at you like that, not when he stared at you like he knew you inside and out, not when he knew you. his lips turned up into a smirk, sharp canines peaking out at you like he knew something you didn’t, like he always did.
“c’mon,” he mumbled, his face coming closer to yours, his voice dropping to a whisper. “you think i don’t know you that you miss me? you think i don’t know that you miss the way i fucked you?”
your breath hitched, catching in your throat as the words died on your tongue, staring up at him with bewilderment swirling in your eyes. your lips parted again, until—
“daddy?”
the word was quiet, soft from the doorway, little june standing there in her blue pajamas with her stuffed bunny clutched in her arms. rafe’s hand dropped from your face, walking over to her with a smile in replacement of that condescending smirk. “yes, sweetheart?”
he bent down to pick her up, her cheek immediately smushed against his shoulder, mumbling quietly into the worn fabric of his t-shirt. “can y’tuck me in?”
his expression softened completely, nodding his head without another thought, stroking her back with a calloused hand. “yeah, baby, yeah— ‘course i can.” he murmured into her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
her eyes flickered to meet yours, a soft yawn escaping her pink lips, as her lashes fluttered sleeping. “g’night, mama..” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with a lazy fist.
rafe turned to face you again, that familiar gleam returning to his gaze. “yeah, goodnight, mama.”
you watched his retreating form move up the stairs, hearing the soft mumbles falling from his lips as he whispered to her, holding her close like he never wanted to let her go.
you let out a sigh, fingers curling around the marble countertop— you were fucked.
i feel like rafe and sweetheart!readers first kiss comes from reader but rafe deepens it. like she’s teaching him how to make frosting and he’s got some on the corner of his mouth and sweetheart!reader is like “uhm rafe… you have- nvm” and just stand on her tiptoes to kiss it off and he goes nuts sitting her on the counter to finally kiss her the way hes wanted to the whole time.
♡ — warnings : fluff, heated kissing
“make sure you leave the mixer in there long enough.” you were currently teaching rafe how to make your infamous buttercream frosting, and even though he was doing good, he couldn’t stop himself from dipping his finger inside the bowl every five seconds.
“it’s gonna be gone before we could finish!” you laughed, playfully swatting his hand away. “alright, alright.” he backed away, watching as you took over mixing for him. “i really appreciate you, you know..” you had spoken up, meeting his eyes.
“for what?” you stopped what you were doing, leaning against the counter to face him. “for everything. i don’t even have to ask you to do anything for me, you just do it.” you shrugged. rafe nodded, smiling softly. the action drew your attention to his lips, a smudge of frosting smeared on the corner.
you giggled, shaking your head as you pointed at his mouth. “what?” he started wiping his face, your giggles turning into full on laughter as he continued to miss the spot. “where is it?!” just as you were about to reach up, you noticed the frosting on your own fingers.
“just- um, okay..” you tippy toed, bringing your lips to barely brush over his before pulling away. rafe just about died when he saw you lick away the sweet mixture, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “did i overstep?” it was silent for a few moments before you found yourself being manhandled.
his lips were on yours in an instant, both of you melting into each other’s touch. you’d wanted this from him since the day he bought your entire basket of cookies at the country club. you moaned into the kiss as he picked you up, placing you on the counter.
nothing, not even the bowl of frosting next to you two, was sweeter than hearing those pretty sounds leave your lips. rafe wasted no time, slotting himself between your thighs as his hands dug into the skin of your waist. he had never wanted someone this bad.
you weren’t used to being kissed like this, your fingers trailing across his chest as he deepened it, his tongue finding yours. butterflies fluttered in your tummy when you heard rafe groan. “y/n..” he pulled away breathlessly, swallowing thickly at the sight of your already swollen lips.
“don’t stop.” you tugged on his shirt, a smug look forming on his face. as much as he wanted to keep going and flip up that skirt of yours, he pulled away, hard as a rock in his jeans. you noticed immediately, wanting nothing more than to please him in that very moment.
“i don’t want you to think i’m here just to have my way with you.” he cleared his throat, your shoulders falling in defeat when you heard the jingle of his truck keys. “i know that..” you trailed off, stepping closer to him. he took your lips again, this time placing his hand on the small of your back.
your eyes fluttered closed, your dainty palm resting in the curve of his neck. “please don’t leave.” you whispered, his erection pressing against your stomach. rafe pecked you one more time before his phone rang.
“hello? yeah, i-, i’m on the the way already.. yes, i know we have work early. alright. i’ll see you.”
“that was my dad. we have a job in the morning.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “when we take that step, i don’t want to be in a rush to get home or leave you before you wake up.” rafe held your face in his hands, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
you didn’t want that either. nodding at his words, you hugged him, relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. “okay.” you hated every second of watching him walk to his truck. “we’ll pick up where we left off, ‘promise sweetheart.” you smiled, giving him a small wave as he drove away.
summary ; “ you love someone you can shape, who has no will to escape. ” artist!rafe x muse!reader.
warnings ; unsafe feelings. slight of angst. smut. kind of fantasy/magic. art glorification. attachment issues. innocent!reader. fear of losing somebody. first time. rafe being a lost boy. dubcon. pygmalion' weird story. toxic!rafe. mentions of drugs. oral (m. receiving). p in v. insecurities. praising. artist hands appreciation. minors DNI.
author's note : 3,5 k words for this. one-shot. also a lot of tummy appreciation (tysm @shawtycoreee 🫶🏿). out of the smut, i tried to write it so poetic 😭🤟🏿
— “ wrap me up, enfold me. i am small and needy. warm me up and breathe me. ” breathe me by sia.
it was alone and late at night that rafe cameron began to create you, not really knowing at the time he started his art what work you would produce. he only cut the stone with his hands. before forming your body, he fantasized about it internally, not really knowing what a woman's anatomy actually looked like. you were like a crazy dream he was trying to sort out, a fantasy he was trying to make real. he sculpted with his straight calloused and tired hands, manipulating the fragile and sensitive material with precision.
he hated doing badly, but it was what he did best. as he worked, he sank into his own fascination. you were magnificent, no, you were divine, the glorious treasure from his hands. it was scary and breathtaking. he had never done anything so beautiful, never created anything so charming. you had this firm, seductive chest, completely bare and hard, the movement of the stone making your belly round and chubby. you were carved in marble, an inanimate statue that had found favor in the eyes of his creator.
when he had finished your face,
he had been amazed but above all frightened by what his fingers had achieved. he had given shape to your lips, your nose, your mouth and your eyes. and now that you had a look, it was like you were confronting him. because now that you had pupils, you could look at him too, you could judge him too. you could be as superior as him, but also equal to his worth.
you were his most beautiful work of art, literally his ethereal and angelic muse. and above all, you made him nervous. not only were you realistic, but you were a woman, you were like one of the goddesses from greek mythology, completely naked.
it was unexpected, but he had knelt before you, before your altar, on his legs and his hands. he was so white and desperate like a lost sinner having only his god to pray and glorify in order to survive.
you had seen his lips part in a prayer, his mouth tighten in a whisper. and you had ears, certainly made of stone, but you had heard it. you had heard his wish lost in the void. yet he had nothing of a believer, you could hardly imagine this man on the benches of a church, but you were also cruelly incapable of seeing and understanding who he really was.
when he stood up, you felt his hands on your skin, the coldness of his ring, but also the awkwardness of his touch. you could tell it was the first time he touched someone intimately, because he didn't really know where to put his hands but he also didn't know how to touch you without destroying you.
rafe cameron was not a god. he could break anything he touched. and maybe that was why he was so nervous and pathetic. you belonged to him now that he had created you so he refused to lose you without even knowing you.
he had hoped that god would make you a real woman, because you were perfect, too sublime to be just a piece of stone.
he didn't need to pull himself up to reach you, he was much taller, more intimidating in terms of size. he could lift you up and control you with just one hand.
you looked so alive so why, why did he only hear one heartbeat in the room? why was he alone breathing in this cold and empty room? why did you only have life in appearance?
you could feel in his look that he was questioning, that he was troubled, that all the beauty of his blue eyes was overwhelmed. but you had also felt his face so close to yours, his breath fanning across your molded lips. he had been hesitant, but his mouth had finally found yours.
and you surprised yourself by loving the taste of his pretty lips, but above all by being able to touch it.
and it was like that kiss had been real enough of how he felt about you that god had decided to give him a chance.
you had sensed all the ivory of your body, of your muscles, becoming sublimely gorgeous, all your stone beauty becoming human and alive. as if his devotion had allowed you to be free and to exist.
when he felt your mouth melt on his, he pulled back in fear. you weren’t supposed to be real even if he wanted you to be. since when did statues come to life?
"oh fuck, what's going on here?... i think i'm going crazy...all that fucking coke…”
“you created me.” you replied, slightly hurt by his reaction because he was supposed to be happy.
"no, you're not supposed to be alive. i mean, you're art, you can't be human."
“i’m human!” you contradicted, stepping forward from your marble base.
rafe wasn't sure if it was a nightmare or a dream. but his gaze was anchored on you, he couldn't take every inch of his eyes off your body. he was magnetized by your magnificence.
you came just close enough to take his hand and place it against your chest. “don’t be cold to me. don’t leave me. what would i do without you? you can't reject me. you need me. ”
maybe that was the game changer for rafe cameron. because he had just understood that since you were his, you belonged to him, you were entirely dependent on him. you couldn't escape, and above all, you had no desire to.
he could do what he wanted, you were like a doll created to respond to the slightest of his favors without ever complacent. you were not only perfect but unimaginable.
” be on your knees for me.”
and the next second, you were staring at him waiting for another order.
"mmh...i know your body by heart. i shape all of this. but you have never seen mine. no worry, i'm going to fix that, okay? you're going to please me tonight and not make me regret 'have given you life?”
you nodded in agreement and he smiled because you were too innocent, too sweet for someone like him. he had unzipped his pants, making them fall to his legs like his boxers.
and it was the first time you saw a naked man in front of you, but it was also fair for you because you had no clothes. “let me help you…” he offered with a smirk. his thumb had rolled over your lips, creating a slight slit between them. “ you need to open that pretty mouth wider...” he added, taking advantage of your vulnerability to use you.
"you know it will only hurt if you don't relax. so don't be tense. because even if it's big, you're gonna take it, doll. not gonna be easy on you because it's your first time. show me what you can do baby, let me feel how grateful you are for your creator. "
he had pushed his tip against your lips, forcing his way into your mouth, making you open bigger to accommodate his cock in your cavity. it was new to you, and you weren't even sure if you could satisfy him because it was the first time you had done something like that, and especially used your mouth in that way.
you thought this area was used to create intimacy between people, not to do dirty things.
“baby, i really appreciate how sweet you can be, but don’t let me do all the work…” he had scoffed. and your heart skipped a beat when he shoved himself further in your mouth, so much so that you felt him hit the back of your throat, all the speed of his harshly strokes leaving you breathless.
you choked on his movements, saliva pooling and dripping between the corners of your enlarged lips. “that’s what happens when you don’t do your part of the job properly…” his tone was falsely accusatory as you couldn’t catch your breath from his pace. he had no pity, you had turned on him too much. and to fix it, he blamed you by harassing your throat with his fat cock.
"but since you leave me no choice, let me show you how to be a good girl for me..." he had plugged your nose, pinching it hard, forcing you to take him entirely, without being able to breathe. his length swallowed in and out, your tongue barely able to support his weight which grew as he bullied your lips.
you belonged to him so he didn’t care if he ruined you a little. he told himself that he would repair you.
he released your nose when he felt you were about to pass, with a sadistic giggle. your eyes were wet with tears. “oh baby, don’t give me that look, you’re wasting your time, i don’t feel pity. ”
you continued to pump him until your jaw arched tighten and become more tense. he pulled out for a moment, spitting in your tongue, before using your throat again. his grunts were frantic and rapid, hot breaths in sync with the pornographic sounds that emanated from your sucking. his large palm was wrapped around the back of your neck, controlling your posture. “ give me that sweet eyes again, and i will make them cry.”
he took so much pleasure in watching you swallow him hard, grunting every time he entered your throat hoping to relax it but causing the opposite effect. "'ot finished. take those balls too." he had pulled back to lift his painfully throbbing dick and place it against his stomach, you had started to lick them, letting your tongue work the entire surface, coating them with saliva. "feel? how full they are. they're gonna stuff you real bad. " you sucked on them when he pushed them directly into your mouth, making him let out throaty sounds. your mouth felt so good, he wondered if your pussy would be just as her.
between your legs, it was completely soaked. your sloppy slit dripping onto the floor. it wasn’t like rafe was ignoring that mess. he was just purely mesmerized by your lips, by the way you cupped his balls so well, and how his cock reacted to each of your licks.
you were definitely his best work. it was more than art, it was heavenly. he was incapable of not using you after creating you. he had his urges, and you had to respond to them.
he had started fisting his length, leaving you lapping at his genitals dangling above your face. the cum had gushed through the air, landing on you. he had rubbed his trailing tip on your cheeks, giving a new color to your skin.
he wondered if you were human enough to feel all this degradation. in a short movement, he had placed you in front of the standing mirror of the workshop, and had driven his body against yours. he spat into his hand before jerking off a little, pressing the head of his cock against your sticky dirty folds.
he placed his arm across your stomach, one hand gripping one of your breast, pressing it more firmly once lodged inside you and grunted as he felt how tight you were, how hard your pussy stretched in his path. thanks to the mirror, he could see each of your reactions, but above all, see your part pumped each of his inches. all his size had disappeared between your flowing walls.
your twitching cunt clenched around his girth, your canal squeezing him. his thrusts were merciless, burrowing into your soiled folds. rafe rocked his hips roughly, as his dick bullied your puffy core. he wondered how a loser like him could have created a goddess like you. and he was desperate to know if he could make you stupid, if his cock that destroyed and filled you was good enough for someone like you.
you had created a mess and frustration in him.
he was in love with the bouncing flesh on your tummy against his arm, your tits swaying when you took him. it was a grace.
he reached out and hit your spot every time he buried himself inside you, his face sank in your left shoulder. you could feel the strands of his hair against your skin, his mouth against your collarbone. you were his, he was fucking you like this. you were only alive when he touched you. you could feel his obsession and adoration in every thrusts, no matter how brutal they were. it was his way of showing you that you couldn't escape him and that you could never.
his rhythm was hard, as your pudgy tummy jiggled under his strong fingers who were digging into you. you were so giddy, fucked like a ragdoll not able to said if it was the butterflies that make your stomach spiraling, or that thick dick shoved inch by inch further into your messy slick. his other digits at your clit, massaging the small and eager bud. he was big enough to maneuver you and embraced your small frame with his muscular biceps.
you were too little, too fragile underneath him.
he was your creator, he gave you air but he could also take it away from you. you were completely dependent, not only you, but every crumb of your body. he was pounding into you with the inability to detach his cock from your fluffy pussy. he loved hearing your voice choked with tears and moans against his ear. it was a sweet melody, a symphony.
your body was perfect, straddling his, your skin slapping his. your lips gurgling around his fingers that you could no longer take without dropping them, because of his violent assaults. you drooled all over your mouth, struggling with the drool that splashed all over his hand.
you couldn't see anything anymore, it was blurry. you didn't even feel tired anymore, you felt like a stupid doll, unable to think and reflect, only able to take this cock nastily harassing you and stretching you violently.
with his muscular and heavy hand on your throat, he forced you to look at the mirror. there was something incredible and perfect in his hands, and you knew it from the moment he started sculpting you. they were so good and incredible, covered with veins that systematically bulged. they captured your belly fat well. “don’t hide this from me. it’s my property.”
he had harpooned your flesh between his fingers, making it move and hang down more as he fucked you senseless.
“if i shaped you like that, that meant i wanted you like that.” your tummy was caged in his grasp. “ i mean, look at that belly, it's all beauty, i swear.”
he had moved his hand to the lower part of your stomach, pressing that area of your skin, feeling his bulge farther in you. in this corner of the room, there was only you and him, only your whimpers against his fingers and the pleasure you felt. there was only this mirror that stared at you and reflected you in the darkness with the only light of the moon as a beacon.
you were divine, you had the perfect body of a goddess. and even having cum with you, even causing your third orgasm, he didn't want to pull out. it was as if he was afraid of the emptiness he expected after this. and maybe you too were dreading the emptiness inside you after he filled you up so well, your soaked pussy dripping with his cum, drooling all over the floor.
he had finally taken it out, his fingers entering you to collect his mixture and place it against your lips. “don’t let it go to waste.”
you had cleaned his fingers until they were pure again.
he had his eyes on you, like a human in front of art.
he still didn't realize. but he refused to let you escape. but it wasn't like you could. he had created a home here, all over this room and in you. he had established a domain in every inch of your skin. he only had to see you to know that you were his own creation.
you kissed him, slightly awkwardly but he made up for it with his mouth on yours. “you can’t abandon me.” he whispered. “i don’t want to abandon you.”
and it felt good to hear your words. you didn't know him well enough, or not really, to know how sick he was. but you felt grateful that he gave you life, because it was priceless. he had made you, and you were his.
“ what are you doing?” when you felt chains encircling your wrists, you weren’t sure if you liked it. "i really want to believe in you sweetheart but i also can't trust anyone. you have legs, you can run away from me but with this metal, you're stuck.”
“i don’t really like it…” you admitted and he replied “no one likes it but the difference is that you don’t really have a choice either. you're mine. your feelings, your body, your eyes, all of that is mine. even that pouty sweet face of yours. ”
you turned your head to let him know that you didn't appreciate it, and to give him the silent treatment. and he smiled. “it doesn't kill me, baby. you can pout. ”
you didn’t respond. "you really want to give me this treatment? maybe you really don't want me to be nice to you after all..."
he had smiled. “"okay...I'll give you what you want." he had disappeared for a few minutes before coming back with an object that you couldn't identify. " what is this ? "
"now, baby wants to talk...but it's a little too late, i'm making the rules here so...say hello to your new favorite toy. it's a gagball.”
you didn't feel it was useful until the ball went into your mouth and stopped you from speaking. you could only drool and grumble around the object.
"why that face, baby? that's not what you wanted? i swear you still look pretty. just quieter. i'm going to go to sleep. and tomorrow you'll show me how sorry you are for that attitude. you want to know if i would forgive you? maybe it would be too easy, you understand? you have all night to prepare excuses and they better please me because i can be even more creative than that to punish you. “
the next day he woke up in a good mood. and above all, you were always there.
he had picked up the bottle of water from his table, wondering if you were thirsty. but when he arrived in front of you, he changed his mind. he used it to wake you up.
"i'm so clumsy...sorry, baby." but there wasn't an ounce of regret in his voice so you knew he was joking. you learned to read his face.
“you know how sorry i am…” he added, facing your gaze.
“you’re not…”
"yes, right. such a clever baby. are you thirsty?”
" yes..."
“maybe if you show me how good and nice you are today, i can consider bringing you another bottle.”
"what do you want..."
“it’s not what i want, sweetheart. but what you will do to satisfy me. see the small difference ? ”
it had been several weeks, a month in fact, since the day of your creation. you had spent your time in this workshop, chained to this wall. you were only alone when rafe left, when he left you in the shadows.
in fact, he was clearly having fun with you. you were dependent on his affection, and he knew it. you reacted to the slightest attention he gave you, even the most mean and bad. but above all you were incapable of hating rafe cameron.
he had made you a magnificent creature, a living human, you would be even crueler than him if you hated him.
after all, you were his muse. he had the right to use you. that was also the thought he had drilled into your brain.
everything he did was for you. and you should be grateful.
but sometimes he wondered, if he killed you, would you come back to life? was there magic in you or was he just in a fucking wonderful dream? he did enough coke to get high for days but this time it lasted too long for it to be fake.
your relationship was strange because sometimes you felt loved, especially when he hugged you after being rough with you, his palm gently caressing your back. like any human, there was tenderness in him. he could be nice. he knew how to be one but that didn't mean he enjoyed being one. he just thought that if he was too mean, you would disappear.
and that was not something he could tolerate. during all this time spent with you, he had not learned, no, he had not succeeded, to live without you.
artists brought art to life, but art gave meaning to the artists' lives.
before you, he was alone.
he had prayed for you. he needed you. it was his final call.
rafe cameron fell in love with you before he created you, before he even imagined you.
and maybe that was why he was so mean to you, because he never knew love, so how can you blame him for not knowing if you loved him back or make fun of him?
he was pathetic, full of rage and violence. but you couldn't hate him, because you and him shared the same tears. the same pain.
he made you, and you made him. he was afraid and you were scared. you wanted someone to love you, and he wanted someone that could love him.
“ i swear, y/n. don't leave me alone. even when you looked away, you make me feel like a monster when i'm not. so please, do the same as me. ”
“ what ? ”
“ don't make me feel like somebody else exists. i'm the only world you can live in. ”
just answered an entire ask and realized i read it wrong >:( so here’s more sub!reader and rafe for now.
—
rafe almost always has control over you, bedroom or not. he’s got you so well trained that even He gets a little concerned sometimes.
you’re at a party, music blaring and people screaming and dancing. you are beyond exhausted, leaned against rafes shoulder while he talked to kelce and top about something you tuned out ages ago.
“don’t you fall asleep on me now.” rafe wrapped an arm securely around your waist scooting you closer to him.
“m’ tired rafe.”
he lifts his hand to give your cheek a few light slaps, “don’t care, you can stay up for me.”
you just nod and rub your eyes, “m’kay.”
later that night he has your face pressed into his pillows, your fingers digging into the cotton bedsheets. he was pounding into you relentlessly.
“not so fucking tired now huh?” he took a fistful of your hair pulling you up so your back was pressed to his chest.
your brain scrambled to find a response, the feeling of him buried in your cunt was all you could think about and all you could manage was a strangled moan.
“fuckin’ answer me,” rafes hand wrapped around the base of your throat. “i asked you a question.”
“no rafe, not tired—oh fuck.” his relentless pounding sent you quickly over the edge.
your walls constricted around his cock as his orgasm followed suit.
“see what happens when you listen to me? would’ve missed out on this if you went to sleep.”
he kept you close against him your back still against his chest as he littered kisses down your jaw.
“you always know best.”
—
also this is rushed :(( i’m just trying to get into a groove
rafe acts all high and mighty — so tough, and dominant. but truthfully, something inside tells me the second his swollen head breaches your tiny hole for the first time ever, he's stilling his movements, trying his best not to cum on the fuckin' spot. your tight, silky walls wrap around him so greedily, shuddering at the feeling as you look up at him with those wide, innocent eyes, silently pleading for him to just move. all it takes is the most subtle squeeze — wet walls hugging his cock, and he's pointing daggers your way, daring you to try that shit again.
Aliyah's Notes: i kind of really like this tbh 😭 if you want me to make it longer or in a different format im up for it
The night before the race was always the same—tension thick in the air, the hum of anticipation surrounding you both. You sat beside Rafe in the quiet of your hotel room, the city lights flickering outside the window like distant stars. He was deep in thought, going over his race strategy for the hundredth time. His persona had shifted into focus mode, the weight of the race ahead pressing down on him.
You weren’t new to this—being with Rafe meant getting used to the rituals, the quiet moments before a storm of roaring engines and flashing cameras. You knew that tomorrow wasn't about you, but about the man beside you, the Formula 1 driver who could outpace anything or anyone.
His eyes, though still carrying that familiar spark, held a seriousness you rarely saw. He’d always been impulsive, driven by passion and instinct, but this was different. This was the calm before the chaos. He wasn’t the man you saw on magazine covers, all cocky smiles and smirks. Tonight, he was just Rafe—your Rafe.
You watched him for a moment, your heart swelling with pride. “You nervous?” you asked, your voice gentle.
Rafe chuckled, a soft sound, his lips curling into a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not nervous. Just… focused,” he replied, though you could see the faint furrow between his brows.
You shifted closer to him on the couch, curling your legs beneath you. “You’ll crush it tomorrow. You always do.”
He met your gaze, the familiar warmth in his eyes returning for a brief moment. “I’ll try to. But… can you remind me after the race how much I hate interviews?”
You laughed softly, reaching out to squeeze his arm/bicep. “You say that every time, but you love the spotlight.”
“Love it and hate it, both at the same time.” He grinned, but his fingers tightened around your thigh. “I’ll be fine, though. It’s just another race.”
You knew better than to reply back. The pressure of racing had a way of getting to him, no matter how confident he appeared. “If you need a distraction, you know I’m happy to be one.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “A distraction, huh?”
“Don’t get any ideas,” you teased, nudging him playfully. But deep down, you knew he wasn’t just talking about the race. He often turned to you in the quiet moments before a race, his grounding presence helping him settle the nerves that no one saw. You’d become his safe space, the place where the chaos of his world melted away.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’re my favorite kind of distraction, you know that?”
A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice, low and teasing, but you pushed the feeling aside. “You’ve got this, Rafe. Just… focus. Don’t let anyone get in your head.”
He leaned back, pulling you with him so you could lie against his chest. The weight of his heart beating beneath your ear was both comforting and overwhelming. “You always know what to say, pretty girl,” he murmured.
You rested your head against him, letting the moment stretch out. The world outside was already buzzing with excitement for the race tomorrow, but here, in this quiet, stolen moment, it was just the two of you—Rafe, the driver, and you, the woman who loved him, ready to stand by him through whatever came next.
“Go get ’em tomorrow,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his chest.
Rafe’s hand slipped into your hair, pulling you closer. “I’ll race for you, you know.”
It wasn’t just the adrenaline of the track or the thrill of the competition that kept him going—it was the unspoken promise between the two of you, a promise that no matter what happened tomorrow, you’d both make it through together.
Tomorrow, he’d race. But tonight, you’d hold him in the calm before the storm. And, somehow, that felt like the most important race of all.
