summary: you reluctantly show up at Topper’s party hoping to find what you need. Instead, you end locked in a bathroom with your ex situationship, Rafe Cameron.
pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
word count: 2.5k
warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, drug use, sexual coercion while under the influence, oral (m receiving), p in v sex 18+ MDNI
note: my second post for kinktober!! sorry for the delay… also was lowkey scared to post this bc my Rafe stuff always flops lollll
You grew up on Figure 8, so attending a party there with your old friends should be no big deal, right?
Well, you hadn’t planned on being here tonight. Since Sarah got together with John B you found yourself spending more time on the cut, and as it turned out, you liked the pogues better than your kook friends.
But, desperate times call for desperate measures. The plan was simple: meet up with the Pogues, head down to the Boneyard, and drink until sunrise. But when Barry stopped answering your texts, your whole night unraveled.
You: hey are u free?
You: hello?? you said you’d be around….
You: Barry, pls just lmk if you can help me or not
Three hours. Nothing. Not even the courtesy of a “busy” text. Typical.
When your phone finally buzzes, you grab it like a lifeline only to see a name you hadn’t expected in a while.
Topper: Party at mine. Everyone’s here. You coming or what?
You: no thx… have plans
Topper: slumming it at the cut again?
You: screw you, Top
Topper: Ur missing out
Topper meant well… or so, you thought. He would text you every once in awhile, surely hoping to hear something about Sarah. You pitied him, in a way.
You stare down at his messages. The idea of being at Topper’s house full of Kooks has you uneasy, but since Barry isn’t answering, maybe someone there had drugs. Probably Rafe…. Your ex-situationship.
You: hmmm fine I’ll stop by for a bit
And that’s how you ended up at Topper’s, into a living room that smelled like spilled beer and cologne, music vibrating through your chest.
Everyone looks picture perfect: tan legs in short dresses, glossed lips shining under the dim lights., and you look… fine, just out of place. Ripped jean shorts, a leopard halter top, birks that still had sand on them. The sideways glances from girls you used to call friends made your skin prickle.
“Holy shit, Y/N?”
You turn to see Ruthie, her eyes wide before she squealed and threw her arms around you.
Great. This bitch.
She smells strongly like tequila and perfume, her glittery top catching the light.
“Ruthie! Hey!” you grin, hugging her back.
“Girl, where the hell have you been hiding? Everyone’s saying you’ve gone full pogue mode.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I’ve just been… around. Hanging out.”
Ruthie just smirks, then shoves a red cup into your hand. “Well, you’re here now and we’re gonna take shots!”
She pulls you by your wrist into the kitchen before she grabs the tequila from the mess of half-filled liquor bottles on the counter and grabs two disposable shot glasses.
“Trust me,” she grins, already unscrewing the cap. The scent hits your nose as she pours, golden liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim.
She slides one cup toward you, raises her own, and then tips it back in one smooth motion. You follow, the burn igniting your throat, heat rushing down to your stomach. She laughs, shaking her head, squeezing her eyes shut at the bite of it, and grabs a lime wedge from the counter to sink her teeth into.
Ruthie somehow gets the best of you, and now you’ve had at least 4 shots of tequila. You’re giggling and reminiscing with someone you don’t even like when you’re interrupted.
“Well, well,” a voice chirps up behind you. “Look who decided to crawl back to the right side of the island.”
You roll your eyes, setting your plastic cup down on the counter. “Hello to you too, Rafe.”
“What happened, princess? Pogues get boring?”
You fold your arms, “nope, don’t flatter yourself. I’m just here for a bit.”
He tilts his head, studying you closely. “Funny. I don’t see John B or Pope or any of your little boyfriends running around. You came here alone?”
“Mhm, Top invited me and I wanted free alcohol, I’m headed home soon,” you shrug.
“Home or back to the cut?” He questions.
“That is…. None of your business,” you almost slur, “but, maybe you can help me with something.”
He raises an eyebrow at you.
“Oh, yeah? What’s that, sweetheart?”
“Barry hasn’t answered me all night and I just need like, a dub….”
Rafe freezes for half a second, then lets out a short, incredulous laugh.
“Barry?” My Barry?” His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek as he studies you.
“Well, yeah… I mean I just do it sometimes it’s not like I have a problem or anything—”
But he doesn’t let you finish.
“You always dress slutty when you go to see him?”
You don’t answer, not with Ruthie still buzzing beside you, oblivious to what’s going on.
“C’mon,” he demands, suddenly straightening. He grabs your wrist, not giving you time to argue. “Let’s talk somewhere private.”
Your pulse quickens up as he drags you away from the kitchen and deeper into the house.
Rafe’s grip on your wrist is firm, guiding you through the crowd. You catch Ruthie’s confused look over your shoulder, but before you could say anything, the door to the downstairs bathroom shut behind you with a sharp click of the lock.
The sudden quiet was jarring. Just the muffled thump of bass outside and Rafe standing between you and the door.
“Barry,” he repeats slowly, like he was still trying to comprehend the situation. “That’s who you came sniffing around for?”
You cross your arms, ignoring the flush rising in your cheeks. “Well, no. I came here becuase he wasn’t answering.”
“So you did come here for me?” He taunts.
“What? No you’re not the only kook who does blow, Rafe.”
He ignores you completely, changing the subject.
“So, uhh, does Sarah know you’re doing drugs behind her back?”
“What?” You ask as your stomach drips.
“Does Sarah know her sweet little best friend sneaks off to score blow?” He cocks his head, mocking you. “Bet she doesn’t.”
Your nails dig into your palms. “She doesn’t know, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
Rafe just laughs, leaning against the counter like he wasn’t the one pinning you in here.
“Figures, well lucky for you, princess, you don’t need Barry. You’ve got me… and I keep secrets from Sarah too.”
“Lucky for me?” you mock, folding your arms tighter. “You’re practically holding me hostage in here.”
“I’m telling you,I’ve got what you’re looking for,” he all but mutters and you swear you can see his cock harden through his jeans.
He slips a hand into his back pocket, pulling out a small baggie that he holds up between two fingers, just out of your reach.
“So, you are gonna give me some?” You ask.
“Mmm, but what’s in it for me?”
“I can give you cash,” you say, almost desperate.
“Not good enough.”
“Rafe. This is ridiculous,” you say as you bite the inside of your cheek, “what do you want for it then?”
He grins at you devilishly, like he’d been waiting for you to ask. He pockets the bag again, leaning down so his mouth is next to your ear.
“Do a line off my cock.”
You jerk back, eyes widening. “I—what?”
“You heard me. That’s the deal. You want it?” He tapped his pocket. “This is how you get it.”
Your mouth goes dry. For a moment you just stare at him, heat prickling across your skin. He smiles.
“Or,” he adds, “I can let it slip to Sarah and your little pogue friends what you’re really doing when you disappear.”
The air felt suffocating, your chest rising and falling too fast. You hate him. But you hate even more that you need this. Hate how how he looks hot right now.
“Fine,” you whisper, forcing the word out. “I’ll do it.”
“That’s my girl. I knew you’d see it my way.”
Without wasting a beat, Rafe’s quickly fumbling with his belt buckle, your pulse hammers in your ears as he shoves his pants down and slips his boxer briefs low enough to free himself, already half hard in his hand.
“Shirt off,” he tells you without looking up, stroking himself slowly, “c’mon, don’t make me ask twice.”
Your hands tremble as you peel your tank top over your head, unclaspeyour bra and throw it behind you. His eyes drag over you hungirly.
“God,” he groans, “I forgot how good you look. Those tits…” he pumps his cock harder and his breath became uneven, “Yeah, that’ll do.”
He fishes the bag from his pocket, releasing himself for a moment to sprinkle a decent amount along his shaft, the white powder dusted across his flushed skin makes your mouth water.
He stares down at you, grinning.
“Well, princess, you know the drill.”
Your knees hit the tile, cold against your skin. He hands you a rolled up bill, as your fingers shake.
“Go ahead,” he says softly, almost coaxing. “Don’t be shy.”
You draw in a deep breath, heart pounding, then bend forward. The powder burns sharp as it rushes through your nose, stinging your throat and making your eyes water. You cough, jerking back instinctively, but Rafe’s hand clamps down on your shoulder, forcing you to stay where you are.
“Don’t waste it,” he whispers, “lick off the rest.”
You cough again, blinking harshly as your nose stings, but Rafe’s grip only tightens on your shoulder. “Come on, don’t half ass it. Clean me up.”
You swallow hard, heat crawling up your neck as you lean forward again. Your tongue darts out to trace the length of his cock, dragging over the dusting of powder, the bitter chemical taste making you flinch, but you love it.
“That’s it,” he drawls, head falling back against the wall. “I’ve missed you.”
You glare up at him, but your troubled expression only seemsto amuse him more. His hand tangles in your hair, tugging hard to keep you where he wants you.
“What would Sarah think, huh?” His voice was low, mocking, cruel. “If she walked in and saw her sweet little best friend on her knees? Snorting lines off my cock like some desperate whore?”
Your face flushes hot, humiliation burning under your skin, but you dont stop. You drag your tongue up to the head, swirling around the tip, and his groan echoes off the tile.
“Fuck, look at you.” He foces your gaze up to his, fist tight in your hair. “Eyes all big, nose burning, mouth full of me. Bet your pogue friends would love to see this.”
You try to pull back, but he shoves his hips forward, slipping deeper into your mouth. You gag, hands braced on his thighs as he fucks into your throat without hesitation.
“Relax,” he taunts, watching your eyes water. “Don’t act like you don’t love it. You’re getting your fix, I’m getting mine… everybody wins.”
Tears streak down your cheeks as he thrusts harder, his breath breaking into ragged groans.
“Just a little more,” he panted, voice sharp. “Fuck—don’t stop, princess, I’m so close…”
He tightens his grip, forcing you to take every inch until his body tenses. A guttural moan rips from his throat as he cums, spilling into your mouth. You have no choice but to swallow, the salty taste mixing with the lingering bitterness of coke, your chest heaving as he finally lets go.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, glaring up at him as he tucks himself back into his jeans.
“Damn, didn’t know if you still had that in you. Guess you’re a lot dirtier than I thought.”
You push yourself to your feet, embarrassed, but filled with adrenaline and horny.
“Fuck you, Rafe.”
“You want to?”
You freeze, and before you could answer, he has you turned around, palms pressed flat against the cold sink. His hand shoves between your shoulder blades, bending you forward as he yanks your shorts and underwear down in one rough motion.
“Mhm. I want to.”
“You think I was gonna waste the way you just looked at me on your knees? Not a chance.”
You catch your reflection in the mirror,cheeks flushed, hair tangled from his grip, a hot ass mess as he presses in behind you, cock sliding through your slick folds.
You hate the way your body betrays you, heat pooling in your belly, your breath hitching when he pushes into you slowly.
“God, fuck,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips. “Tight little pussy, taking me so good already.”
You grit your teeth, trying not to moan, but his pace is merciless. Each thrust drives you forward against the counter with force.
“Look at you,” he taunts, voice rough in your ear. “Sarah’s perfect little best friend. Bent over my sink, getting fucked like a slut for a couple lines of coke.”
Your nails scrape against the porcelain as he slams into you harder, the sound of skin on skin loud under the muffled bass outside.
“Say it,” he hisses. “Say you love it it.”
“Rafe—”
His hand tangles in your hair, jerking your head back so your eyes meet his in the mirror. “Say it.”
“I—I love it,” you gasp, heat burning through your veins.
“That’s my girl,” he groaned, thrusts growing sloppy, rough.
It doesn’t take long as he pushes himself deep one final time, spilling inside you with a broken moan, his hips jerking against your ass. His grip loosened, and he leans back, watching his cum drip down your thighs as you clutch the counter, trembling.
He zips up his pants casually, like nothing had happened, smirk firmly back in place. “Guess you got more than your fix tonight, huh, princess?”
You yank your shorts back up, chest heaving, glaring at him through the mirror. “You’re disgusting.”
“And you’re still here.” He winks, brushing past you toward the door. “Don’t worry. Our little secret.”
Dad! rafe holding his baby girl for the first time
He would be so happy honestly :3
probably would shed a tear or two looking down at her in his arms
If she grabbed one of his fingers with her hand or if she just stared up at him, her mouth open and letting small coos out he would melt immediately
Probably would point to his buzzcut head and tell her they have the same hair 😭
He's just silently observing her, watching her eyes, her face, making sure she's okay
Wouldn't give her back to you when you would ask because all he wants to do now is hold her in his arms forever
"rafe, she needs to be fed one more time before she goes to bed' you'd look at him, reaching out for the baby that was cuddled into his chest. "no" he would just simply say, still a bit emotional
In the end he would give her to you reluctantly but once you're done he's taking her right back into his arms and holding her for the rest of the night
He'd always be caressing them, holding them, telling you "just use my hands baby" if all your bras were in the wash that day
He holds them when you're doing something together, it's just instinct. You'll be watching a movie and his hands will just be on your boobs not even doing anything
He loves loves loves to wash them when you shower together. He always tells you "you have to keep him clean" but you know he just wants to have them in his hands
Sometimes they'll even help him think. He'll be mindlessly fondling your tits while he is deep in work mode not even noticing what he's doing
He just loves those boobies :3
Shit lil thing but I had to post nothing is gonna stop me not even tumblr
"Honey, can you take her? She's not calming down" you sigh, gazing at the crying baby in your arms.
"Rafe?" You ask again, getting just a bit impatient. "Coming dear" he jokes, walking over to you. "Hi munchkin" he babbles, taking her from your hands. "How's my favorite girl?"
As soon as he takes her, she seems to light up and reach for her dad. You huff sarcastically, watching rafe bounce her up and down in his arms, a smile replacing her frown as she giggles.
"You don't like me, huh?" You tease her, tickling her stomach just a little as she screams in joy.
"Guess she just prefers me over you" rafe gives you a toothy grin, kissing your baby on the cheek. "Be quiet" you slap his arm playfully, giving him a small peck on his lips.
