baby daddy! rafe ,, free use ,, dubcon ,, cervix nudging ,, implied creampie ,, exhibitionism
[1.2k words]
a/n: inspired by janet jackson's any time, any place, and this edit
It’s ridiculous how easy it is for you to fall back into old habits.
Maybe having a baby has turned you into this structured person, someone who sticks to what they know and barely ever deviates from it. Which, that’s not particularly abnormal or concerning. What is both abnormal and concerning is your sheer commitment to returning to some of your oldest routines, even if it is completely unhealthy and outdated for the person that you have recently become.
If anyone found out, they would be so disappointed in you. Your therapist, your friends, your family. Your daughter would probably be happy, though, because mommy and daddy are finally back together.
This definitely doesn’t count as you and Rafe being back together, though.
Just because you temporarily forgot what constitutes as healthy and unhealthy communication with your baby daddy, doesn’t mean the two of you are together. It’s just that you’re so used to what the two of you used to do together.
What started as you just simply dropping off something that your daughter would need for her weekend at her father’s house turned into you pressed up against Rafe’s chest, his lips easily, but messily, working over yours in a path of familiarity.
The way the two of you behave is akin to waves crashing against the shore—a repeated movement, nothing new at all, but not gentle either. Strong, merciless in a way that can only be due to complete recognition. When you suck on Rafe’s tongue, you do it because his tongue is as recognizable as your own tongue. When Rafe slips his hand beneath the waistband of your bottoms and instantly rubs across your pussy, he does it because your pussy is his pussy. Breakup be damned, both of you still belonged to each other.
This time, you’re letting everyone know.
In Rafe’s bedroom, right against the window, you let Rafe have his way with you just as he lets you have your way with him.
There was no lead up to this, and that’s how both of you always liked it. You entered Rafe’s house, placed your daughter’s bag on the kitchen counter, and then Rafe’s hands were on your waist and his cock—already formed as a noticeable shape in the confines of his slacks—pressed against your backside. It’s part of an old deal the two of you had worked out, back when both of you were so deep in your infatuation that neither of you could get enough of the other.
Those were bygone days now, but apparently that didn’t matter.
There was a part of you that wanted to tell Rafe no. That same part of you wanted to tell him that this wasn’t the deal anymore, that the deal ended with your relationship. But then he started to kiss at your shoulders and it felt so good to not have to ask for this or even initiate it. It felt so good to just melt into the actions and let Rafe take complete control of the situation.
If you were in the right state of mind, maybe you would be thinking about how embarrassingly easy it is for you to fall into familiarity. But you aren’t in the right state of mind at all. At least, you aren’t in the state of mind that is ideal for any sort of self-contemplation. You’re too horny and desperate and comfortable to even begin to think about psychoanalyzing your current situation.
Instead, you live in it.
You revel in the cold glass against your face and the palms of your hands. You sink into the gentle graze of Rafe’s rough fingertips against your nipples. You relax around Rafe’s cock as he brutally fucks you open.
You brace yourself against the glass, letting your eyes wander out to look at the water in Rafe’s backyard. You aren’t really focused on anything you see, though. Of course you notice things, like the boats and jetskis out there, but you aren’t focused on it. You aren’t wondering if people can see you. That doesn’t cross your mind at all.
“You feel so good, baby.” Rafe’s voice is gruff and scratchy behind you, deeper than it was when you first saw him. “My God,” he laughs and, with embarrassing quickness, you crane your head around to see his face scrunch with the sound. “Dunno how I lasted so long without this pussy.” He punctuates his statement with a slap on your ass cheek. The clap echoes throughout the room, and, likely getting inspired from the sound he made, Rafe sharpens his thrusts until the two of you make that sound alone.
Each drive of his cock presses right against your cervix and it hurts as much as it feels good. The feeling resonates deep in your hips each and every time, a dull ache that is made heavenly by the beautiful pressure in your cunt.
You get used to the rhythm and the feeling, and it’s then that Rafe stills his cock deep within you, keeping his leaking and bare tip nudged right against your cervix.
You’re gasping immediately. You reach behind yourself in search of Rafe, tapping his hands, wrapping your grip around his wrist, pinching his unmarred skin—attempting to do anything to communicate that this is too much, since your mouth is currently completely useless.
And when Rafe still doesn’t seem to get the memo, you take a deep inhale and muster up enough strength and coherence to speak to him.
“Rafe, raferaferafe. ‘s too much. You’re being mean.”
You’re still looking at Rafe and you wish you weren’t because the cruel grin that spreads across his face is maddening—both in the form of frustration and admiration. He’s so pretty in his element like this, and before you would tell him that without any hesitance. But now, you wouldn’t dare speak those words to him, even as he’s making you babble from just his cock.
“I’m being mean?” he asks, blue eyes shining with unconcealed amusement. He’s reveling in this. “I thought you like when I was mean?” He leans closer to you, adding a slow pull and push to his movements once more. Slow enough to keep you both still so he can press the tip of his sharp nose to the tip of yours.
He wraps one arm around your waist, trailing up to tweak with your nipples, and the other arm wraps around your hips so he can tweak your clit. You see him watching you react, you see the satisfaction written all over his face when your lips part and you let out the tiniest little moans.
Rafe doesn’t have to say anything, neither do you. You both know the other is enjoying this now just as much as you enjoyed it before.
You turn back around, press both hands to the glass, and completely surrender your body to Rafe.
And just then, he says from behind you, under his breath and perhaps intended to just be to himself, “This perfect fucking pussy. Always milks my cock well. Gave me a daughter. Shit, maybe we should do it again? Yeah, yeah, I think we fuckin’ should.”
Yeah, you and Rafe certainly haven’t changed at all.
baby daddy!rafe ; exes hooking up yay ; p n v sex
MDNI 18+
w/ RAFE CAMERON
“This just feels right, doesn’t it?”
Hearing those words from him pisses you off. It sends a hot rod of anger down throughout your body, makes you dizzy and lightheaded from just how pissed you are.
The anger comes because you know he’s right. Everything about this feels does right. The way he has you laid back in the center of the bed, your head propped up on the same pillows he insisted you (he, really, since it was his money) splurge on for your ‘new forever home’. The way he has a hand between your thighs, two fingers plunging in your pussy, in and out in and out inandout. The way his face is hovering above yours, his weight held up by the arm he has pressed into the bed beside your head, his nose just barely kissing yours in an action that you both hate and love.
Everything feels so right that it makes you sick. But in a refusal to admit this, you scoff.
“Do you ever shut up, Rafe?”
Like always, he’s not put off at all. He loves your temper, always has, until he had enough of it and you had enough of him. Now, though, neither of you can get enough of each other.
He laughs, right in your face, pink lips parting to show off the expensive set of white teeth he wears as proudly as he wears the polo and trousers that you can’t wait to get off of him. There’s a string of saliva connecting his bottom and top row of teeth, and for a moment there, there’s nothing you want more than to break it in two with your tongue. Unfortunately, he takes that privilege from you with one swift flick of his tongue over his lips.
“I missed you too, princess.”
You open your mouth in an attempt to say something, anything, to make Rafe think you haven’t missed him one bit. But then he sends his fingers deep in you and he speeds up and then your back curves and you’re letting strained screams escape from your mouth and you’re only proving him right.
“Yeah, yeah," he laughs again and it's embarrassing how you feel arousal gush out of you, "that’s what I thought. That’s what I thought, honey.”
Rafe pulls his fingers out and you feel yourself bearing down in a pitiful attempt to keep the long, deft digits within you. He doesn’t acknowledge it, instead he swirls his warmed fingers along your clit and presses an infuriatingly gentle kiss against your forehead.
“I know you missed me, princess. You don’t have to admit it.” And before you could even begin to consider a rebuttal, he has his fingers slipped in his mouth as he’s moving to stand at the edge of the bed.
You watch Rafe undress and, with nothing else to do since he’s already slipped your own clothes off of your body and taken away the privilege of undressing him, you think. You think about how you truly have missed Rafe. Not in the traditional sense, as in you haven’t seen him for a while. It’s the opposite actually. You’ve seen Rafe a lot. That’s what it’s like to co-parent.
You see Rafe when he comes over to pick your daughter up. You see Rafe when he comes over to drop your daughter off and she begs him to stay over for one (which quickly becomes two, then three) bedtime story. You see him every year on Christmas, your daughter’s birthday, and during your mandatory yearly family trips.
Rafe The Dad is a constant in your life. But you haven’t had Rafe The Lover in far too long and, God, it feels amazing to be back.
When Rafe slides in you, he slides home. You both sigh in tandem. He’s holding himself up above you, and when his tip just slightly nudges your cervix, his body goes lax and his head hangs. His pelvis is right up against yours the entire time as he shallow fucks you as if he wants nothing more than to be as close as possible to you the entire time.
Which, you want the same thing.
You loop your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You dig your fingers into the growing hair at the back of his head. You pull him as far deep as possible with the heels of your feet. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him and you can’t stop kissing him. And you don’t want to stop kissing him.
You don’t want any part of this to stop.
On some level, you know it’s only the dick punching you in the gut talking, but when Rafe fucks you like this, you don’t remember why the two of you called it quits. You don’t remember why you gave that ring back, or why you made him move out. You don’t remember anything other than how well you and Rafe work together when you’re striving towards a mutual goal—that goal currently being an orgasm for both of you.
Good thing is, even though there is so much wrong with Rafe, he knows how to take care of you. And he clearly hasn't forgotten. He fucks you and swipes the pad of his thumb against your clit until your body seizes and then shakes. And, as always, you return the favor with a quick handjob that always makes him squirt hot cum all over your wrist.
And when it’s all over, when you’re sitting on the toilet and Rafe is leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, watching you with something that both excites and scares you in his eyes, you ask him, “You wanna stay over to read her a bedtime story?”
okay my brain is trying to conjure something up with baby daddy rafe since you mentioned him, bear with me.
you’re all going to some kind of dinner, brunch whatever and you’re getting ready in your bedroom. rafe knocks and soon just lets himself in and you watch him slither towards you in the reflection of your mirror. then somehow he’s all up on you talking abt how you’ve ruined other girls for him and how he knows he’s done the same for you and reminds you that you know where home is hmmmm
omg i literally started this two months ago and completely forgot abt it sorry!!; slight hinting at rafe being unpredictable and scary; mdni 18+
rafe's mouth opens and you already prepare yourself for some absolute bullshit.
you're standing in front of your mirror, already dressed and almost ready.
it's not like you were taking long enough to warrant rafe's entrance. you're on time actually. at least, you're on time according to the timeline you gave rafe when you told him you would be running late. which, that isn't your fault. your daughters playdate ran late and now here you are: close to missing the grace period on your dinner reservation, courtesy of rafe in honors of mother's day.
missing the reservation certainly wouldn't be the end of the world. if you couldn't survive whatever bullshit rafe was going to say now, how were you going to survive a whole dinner with him?
"you look fucking amazing," rafe says.
he's leaning against the door to your bathroom, staring at your reflection in the mirror. his posture is lax in the way it's always been the last few years, a nice, welcomed change from the erratic demeanor he used to exhibit in his late teenage years.
rafe now is more calm. confident. calculated. he's softened and matured in a way that can only be attributed to fatherhood.
his words are a compliment. or, they should be a compliment. but your eyes roll as you can't help but assume that rafe has some sort of ulterior motive.
you don't say anything in response. instead, you continue, not letting yourself get sidetracked.
for once, your silence doesn't seem to bother rafe at all.
he steps further into the bathroom, stopping just a few feet away from the back of you. his eyes shamelessly rake over your backside as if you're still his to ogle.
suddenly, you feel simultaneously exposed and trapped. not long ago when you and rafe were still together and more than just co-parents, this feeling used to excite you. you used to hide your reactions, stuffing it down as far as you could in order to let rafe intimidate you. it always made the sex ten times better.
now, you swallow and meet rafe's eyes in the mirror. like before, you hide your reaction, but there isn't much to hide this time because you don't know what you're feeling.
scared? curious? excited?
deep, deep down, there is a hint of fear as you remember rafe's erratic nature. did it ever go away? or did it morph into something similar yet different enough to be nearly unrecognizable—unpredictability?
he swears under his breath and stuffs his hands in his pockets.
"you've ruined other girls for me. you know that, right?"
that gets a reaction out of you. warmth flares in your chest and your eyes just slightly widen. rafe catches the minute change in your expression before you can stamp it down and hide it away.
he takes it as permission to continue.
"how could i ever want anyone else when i've seen you pregnant with my kid?"
he steps closer, and closer, and even closer, and you find yourself melting into him. the more he speaks and the closer he gets, the more you want him. the more you hear his voice, and feel his warmth, and smell his cologne, the more you reminisce.
just like you always do when it comes to rafe.
it's impossible not to when you see him every time your daughter smiles or laughs.
speaking of.
"where is she?" you ask.
"your mom stopped by and took her for fro-yo."
it happens embarrassingly quick.
you don't waste time with kissing or fingering or anything of the sort. you pull your dress over your hips, push your flimsy panties to the floor, and lean over the counter.
rafe could respond verbally. he could chuckle condescendingly in the way he loves to do when you contradict yourself. he could make some sort of comment about how you always fold for him—literally.
instead, he makes quick work of his slacks and pulls his cock free.
the feeling of his bare head breaching your entrance hurts so good. it burns in that tingle that is unique to this situation.
rafe knows you well enough to know you need a few moments to adjust, and then you're good to go. he knows you so well that he can angle his hips a certain way and your hand is flying out to the mirror for purchase.
"yeah? right there?" rafe groans.
he thrusts into you, slow and punctual, each drive of his hips motivated by a purpose.
but rafe's not fucking you to make you cum, he's fucking you to feel you.
you've known him long enough now to know the difference.
you don't speak to him. you don't tell him that you've missed him. you don't tell him that you've been dreaming of this since the last time you hooked up (this is, unfortunately, not the first time, and it will not be the last). you don't admit to him that he's ruined other men for you.
you just enjoy it.
and in turn rafe does the talking for both of you.
"god, i'll never get tired of this pussy."
"you feel so good. i mean it. no one is better than you."
"there you go, baby, you always take me so well. take me better than anyone else can."
"yeah, that's right. you know where home is, don't you?"
this warrants a response, even if you don't want to give one.
rafe stares at you in the mirror, blue eyes unyielding and harsh beneath the lights. his mouth hangs open, pink lips parted, groans—and words—slipping from between them freely.
"don't you?" he prompts.
you don't speak. but you do nod.
rafe grins. "fuck yeah you do, baby."
he curls his big body over your back, shallow fucking you in favor of pressing kisses against the side of your neck.
you tilt your head to make room for him. your hand comes up to cradle his head, nails scratching his scalp that is barely obscured by his short blond hairs.
"you smell so good," rafe moans into your neck. his lips remain parted and you feel every breath he expels into your skin.
a strong, corded arm wraps around your waist. he uses it to pull you further back into him, forcing his cock even deeper into you. one particular thrust presses against your cervix.
you keen, twisting away from rafe. he doesn't let you go, holding your back still against his chest.
"shit, my bad, baby."
his words, though curt, are so sweet and gentle for him, and when you're being fucked they're so easy for you to believe. it's so easy for you to feel taken care of again. when you let your mind wander, you wonder why you even left rafe in the first place. when did the two of you begin denying each other pleasure like this? why would you do that in the first place?
maybe you and rafe should get back together.
"i never want this to end," rafe admits into your collarbone. he rests his forehead on your shoulder and in a few, quick, thrusts, he pulls out to come all over the floor.
you barely have any time to come to your senses and be rightfully annoyed when rafe's spinning you around and pressing his fingertips into your ass.
i love baby daddy rafe sm. yall so broke up bc it just wasn’t working but you obviously agreed to stay in each others lives for your baby, but you’re staying in each others lives a little too much at a certain point. rafe comments on it by saying something like, “thought you wanted us to stay apart? huh? right? doesn’t seem like it now, does it?” when you’re letting him hit it from the back in the bed the two of you used to share
note from author all works are 18+ ; ☽ indicates explicit sexual content; home
includes ... BRUCE WAYNE (BATTINSON); RAFE CAMERON; JAKE SULLY; ETHAN LANDRY; STILES STILINSKI; MIKE SCHMIDT; LUKE CASTELLAN; PAUL ATREIDES; ART DONALDSON, TASHI DUCNAN
BRUCE WAYNE !
❝ after party ❞ ☽ 1.3k+ words
after a tiring night out, bruce just wants to bury himself between your thighs
RAFE CAMERON !
❝ west village ❞ ☽ 1.1k+ words
all good things must come to an end, and that includes your relationship with rafe
JAKE SULLY !
❝ east to west ❞ ☽ 3k+ words
sometimes you and jake argue. sometimes those arguments end up with him fucking you against a tree.
ETHAN LANDRY !
❝ stuck with you ❞ 1.6k+ words
by a stroke of sheer bad luck, you end up stuck in an elevator with your self proclaimed worst enemy
❝ bad taste ❞ 1k+ words
you're partnered with ethan landry for a 2000s-esque 'baby project'
❝ just a little bit ❞ ☽ 2.4k+
there's something about the heat of camp nightingale that makes you really want ethan landry
MIKE SCHMIDT !
❝ nothing real ❞ 1.3k+ words
usually haircuts don't include intense longing. but usually, mike doesn't get a haircut from the person he desires most
⇀ ❝ haunting your bed ❞ 2.2k+ words
you, mike, and abby bake a chocolate cake and mike gets to taste it from your lips
PAUL ATREIDES !
❝ do you believe in us? ❞ ☽ 5.4k+
you and paul become stepsiblings, but don't stop your affairs
drug (coke) use!!; they’re both high; high sex; MDNI 18+
w/ RAFE CAMERON
beneath everything else happening within you, you wonder if rafe is aware of how far gone you are.
he never let you do this much, even if he was allowed. “i’m protecting you, alright?” is what he always told you as he took your line down to a bump, letting you take the small amount while he took the rest.
but you disobeyed him. you went behind his back. and you can’t help but be a little fearful that he knows. you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.
really, there’s no way rafe knows. not when he is as gone he is, his eyes glossy and focused on your cunt and only your cunt, his hips grinding into you like it’s what he was made to do.
it’s always such a pretty sight—prettier when you aren’t the sober one forced to babysit him. the way his hair hangs over his face, the flush in his cheeks and the jitter in his hands. it’s like you can see the artificial energy in his body, likely because you’re sharing it.
“it’s always good to fuck it out,” is what rafe taught you from the beginning, when he would only rub a fingerprint of coke onto your gums and wouldn’t even let you powder your nose.
so that’s what you’re letting him do to you—fuck it out.
his stamina is tripled, you know that. his desire is insatiable. you’re gonna be here for a while. but for once, you like that. you can handle it, now that the playing field is even.
maybe you’re being too obvious when you graciously accept rafe’s request for another round, your hand combing through his hair as you already start trying to fuck yourself back onto him.
