watching you for months from behind foggy glasses and shaky hands, jerking off to the thought of you with his earbuds in and a pillow clutched to his chest, pretending it’s you. whispering your name like a prayer, like he’s ashamed of how bad he wants it.
so when it actually happens—when you kiss him, when you pull him onto your bed, when you say “do you wanna…?”—he nods like a fucking puppy. eager, dumb, eyes already wide and blown-out.
he tries to act confident. really, he does. tells you in this shaky little voice,
“i-I’ve seen a lot of videos, I know what to do…” like it’s something to be proud of. like his entire sex education isn’t a pornhub rabbit hole and three reddit threads.
but the second you guide him in? game over.
his hips jerk forward way too fast, eyes rolling back as he gasps, forehead pressed to your shoulder.
“oh god—oh fuck—fuckfuckfuck, i’m sorry, I didn’t—”
he whines. actually fucking whimpers into your skin, clutching your waist like he’s drowning in it.
"y-you’re so warm—can’t—can’t help it—feels s-so good, I—I didn’t mean to—"
and then he just freezes, pulsing inside you, biting back a sob because he came already. not even thirty seconds in.
he can’t look you in the eye. rolls off you like a guilty little rabbit, red-faced and mumbling apologies into your neck.
“i swear i’ll make it up to you. i’ll—i’ll go down on you, okay? for as long as you want. just… don’t hate me.”
he does make it up to you. tongue trembling, nose buried in you like it’s his job, moaning every time you tug his hair and call him good. (he cries again when you cum on his tongue. it’s kind of sweet.)
he was relentless—tripping you in the hallway, knocking your books out of your hands just to watch you sigh in frustration, leaning down to whisper something cruel in your ear while his friends laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. he’d smirk, watching you with those sharp blue eyes, waiting for a reaction.
"what's wrong, princess?" he’d taunt, all mock sympathy. "thought you could handle me."
he was unbearable. arrogant. a menace.
but at home?
at home, he was yours.
on his knees, forehead resting against your thigh, hands gripping at your legs like he was praying at an altar. like he wasn’t the same boy who spent his days tormenting you.
"please," rafe rasped, voice wrecked, hands sliding up your thighs like he needed to hold onto you. "please, baby, don't be mad. i need you."
you scoffed, tilting his chin up with two fingers, making him meet your gaze. his eyes were wide, pleading, so desperate it almost made you laugh.
"you’re mean to me at school," you said, voice light, almost teasing. "why should i be nice to you now?"
rafe swallowed hard, licking his lips like he was trying to find the right words. "you don’t get it," he said, shaking his head. "i gotta keep a reputation somehow."
you hummed, dragging your fingers through his hair before giving it a sharp tug, making him whimper. "is that right?"
"yeah," he breathed, nodding quickly. "but you—fuck, you know it’s not like that. not really. i worship you, baby. you’re everything."
his hands tightened on your thighs, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, eyes flicking between yours like he was searching for mercy.
"then prove it," you murmured, watching the way he melted at your voice.
"i will," he promised, nodding so fast it was pathetic. "anything."
you smirked, pressing a thumb against his bottom lip, watching the way he parted his mouth, obedient, waiting.
"open up," you commanded.
rafe obeyed instantly, tongue flicking out, pupils blown wide with need. you leaned in close, letting spit drip from your lips into his waiting mouth.
he moaned. actually moaned. eyes fluttering shut like it was the best thing he’d ever been given.
"good boy," you murmured, running a hand through his hair again, this time softer.
rafe exhaled shakily, cheeks flushed, lips slightly swollen, and when he looked up at you again, it was with pure devotion.
"see?" he whispered, voice raw. "i belong to you."
you hummed, dragging your fingers through his hair again before tugging him up, forcing him to his feet. his breath hitched, body pressed against yours, his hands hesitant like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch.
"you’re gonna stop being mean to me at school," you murmured, tilting your head, fingers tracing down the line of his jaw.
rafe swallowed hard. "baby—"
"or i won’t touch you again," you warned, watching his face fall in an instant.
"no—fuck, i’ll be good," he promised, nodding so fast it was pathetic. "i swear, i just—please, baby, i need you."
you smirked, gripping his jaw, pulling him down until your lips were barely brushing his. "prove it."
he crashed his lips against yours, desperate, needy, like he’d been starving for you. his hands slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him, deepening the kiss like he couldn’t stand the thought of any space between you.
he kissed you like he had something to make up for. like he was trying to replace every cruel word, every shove in the hallway, every cocky smirk with the way he moaned against your lips, the way his hands trembled slightly as they held onto you.
your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, and he whimpered, hips stuttering forward, pressing even closer.
"please," he murmured between kisses, lips moving desperately against yours. "please, baby, tell me you forgive me."
you smirked against his mouth. "are you gonna behave?"
"yes," he breathed, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck. "i’ll be so good, baby. promise."
you sighed, dragging your nails lightly down his back, and he shivered. "fine. i forgive you."
rafe groaned, arms tightening around you like he never wanted to let go. "thank you, thank you," he murmured, lips pressing against every inch of skin he could reach.
you rolled your eyes, shoving him back onto the bed. he let out a little yelp before you climbed on top of him, and he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face against your chest.
"’m sorry," he mumbled again, voice muffled against your skin. "you’re so soft, baby. let me stay here forever."
you laughed, fingers threading through his hair. "needy," you teased.
rafe hummed, nuzzling closer, lips pressing against the swell of your chest. "only for you," he whispered, voice soft, content.
and just like that, the menace from school was gone—left behind in favor of the boy curled up in your arms, clinging to you like you were the only thing that mattered.
c/w: obsessive!rafe, manipulative!reader, dom!reader x sub!rafe, voyeurism, sexting, striptease, male masterbation, humiliation, degradation, jealousy.
4.2K
rafe’s pov
Damn, I could get used to this. It’s fucking paradise. I’m stretched out on the guest bed in the pool house—bare chest still warm from the sun, linen sheets faintly sticking to my skin, towel tossed somewhere on the floor.
It’s quiet now. Just the hum of the ceiling fan and the thick, rhythmic snoring of a few boys passed out on the couch after a day of day-drinking. Quick nap before pregame. We’ll stumble back to the frat around three.
Me? I’ve barely blinked. Every ten minutes or so, I glance at the main house. Waiting. Hoping. Just one glimpse of her pulling into the driveway. Maybe she’ll come home early. Maybe she’ll realize we’re here and ask me to come inside…
Hasn’t happened. But I’m a beer half-full kinda guy.
Still, who am I kidding?
It’s Friday. Sun’s setting behind the mansion. She’s probably closing some insane deal, running her empire, stacking money while I lie here like a goddamn teenager in heat.
And yeah—maybe she does come home early sometimes. Just not for us. Not for me.
She’d never be the type to waste an afternoon stretched out by the pool. The whole atmosphere would put her off—the music, the boys gawking, the tastelessness of it all. That just isn’t who she is. She’s above it. She’s above me.
And yet every time I catch a flash of headlights on the driveway my heart skips. Every time I hear a car door slam I sit up a straighter.
It’s pathetic. I know it is. But I’ve got this twisted fantasy playin’ out in my head of her choosin’ me. Walking into the pool house like it’s me she came home for and no one else.
Like I’m the only one she needs—the only one that can satisfy those needs she thinks I can’t. Which I can… I fuckin’ can. It’s gonna be me. Not one of those guys with perfect suits and private yachts. Not some old, stuffy asshole. I’d do it all for her. She wouldn’t even have to ask. And I’d give it all if she let me touch her like I’ve been dreamin’ about.
I close my eyes and exhale, feeling myself getting hard just thinking about her.
I grit my teeth, trying to pull it together—but the emergency number she stuck to the frat fridge is burning a hole in my goddamn pocket. I saved it under Sugar. Couldn’t help myself.
‘Cause what if I said the right thing? What if I was as slick as I know I can be? Well fuck. I might just be riskin’ it all.
My eyes lift and my heart drops as the lights flick on in the main house.
I watch her walk into the house and kick off her heels like the day’s finally let go of her. She moves through the entryway, soft and effortless, and for a second I forget to breathe completely.
Her hair comes down first—fingers loosening like she doesn’t even know I’m watching. Like I’m not right here; eyes burning through the goddamn glass.
She moves to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of wine from the shelf, popping the cork, running herself a glass. Her pouty lips press against the rim taking a long, slow sip.
My eyes track her close, watching as she climbs the grand staircase along the long line of windows that dress the back of the house, drifting all the way to the top.
One flick of her wrist and the lights glow behind the soft curtain of her master bedroom.
I should look away, I know that. I should give her some privacy at least but I can’t. I just sit there, jaw tight as I swallow the lump in my throat, watching her silhouette drift across her room.
She’s right there… A shape I know too well and not well enough all in the same breath.
And I’m pissed… Fucking furious that she’s closing me off cruelly. Turning her room into a goddamn peep show like I haven’t been waiting for her all day—like I wouldn’t fall to my knees for a sliver of her attention.
Her shadow moves and my lips part, breath catching in my chest as her shadow grows bigger and bigger, closer as her hands lift. And she pulls the curtain open and my heart stops.
For a second she just stands there, clear as day, the fabric of her blouse sheer in the glow.
She’s gotta know how this shit goes… the pool house setup. Her son gets the master bedroom. His best friend gets the guest room. Best friend privileges. The rest of the guys crash wherever there’s space.
She’s seen it play out all summer... The way we peel off from the pool and wander inside to nap before goin’ out. The way I always end up with this room—the only one facing the house. The one with a perfect view of her.
I sit up, sheets falling to my lap as my pulse climbs. Her eyes flick toward my window. She bites her lip and I swear to god she sees me. She definitely sees me.
What if she wants me watching?
The thought sinks its claws into me. I reach toward the bedside lamp and flick on the nightlight, trying to catch her attention, enough to say your move, sweetheart.
Her fingers find the buttons of her blouse, popping open one at a time. I watch each one slip free, teasing more and more skin.
Bet it’s not the first time she’s stripped like this—just maybe the first time for me. Or maybe I’m not even the first. Maybe some rich fuck already gets this view every Friday night.
… Ain’t no fuckin’ way. She'd never. She wouldn't do that to me.
I moan when her shirt hits the floor, her body basically bare for me—just a pair of heels, a skin-tight pencil skirt, and a black bra—sleek, lacy, hugging her curves like it was tailored to kill me. My mouth’s gone dry; chest rising too damn fast.
I can’t take it. I grab my shirt and rip it over my head, tossing it aside like I need her to see I’m not hiding either. I’m here. I’m hers.
And that’s when she turns with her back to me, spine straight, skirt stretched tight across her perfect ass.
She slides her hands down her body, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt, lowering it inch by inch.
Her fingers wrap around her ankles, ass in the air, garter belt wrapped around her waist, hugging her thighs. She winds back up slowly, hair flicking back, looking over her shoulder at me.
I push down my trunks and my cock springs free—so fuckin’ hard for her I’m already leaking.
Bet she’s dripping… Soaked through that lingerie, warm and wet. My eyes dart to the left—I don’t wanna miss a thing. “Shit,” I pant, my voice stammering from my lips in a shaky breath as I see it. Because yeah, I’ve stayed here before. Slept in this exact room. But I never noticed that…
On the nightstand, tucked beside the lamp is a box of Kleenex and a tall, narrow bottle of something. Lotion… French label, heavy cream, expensive as fuck I can just tell. Definitely wasn’t here last weekend. Definitely not from one of the guys.
She put that there for me…
My stomach flips and my cock throbs, I swallow the lump in my throat as I pump some of it into my hand—cool, thick, silky, and just as I wrap my fingers around myself she moves.
She reaches up, arms bending behind her and the clasp of her bra gives way. The straps fall, bra dropping, and with it a groan slips out of me.
Holy fuckin’ shit…
I start to stroke, my hand slick; eyes locked on every move she makes. My other hand grips the sheets, knuckles tight already as my chest rises, chain sparkling with each pump of my fist on my dick. My teeth sink into my lip as my thighs tense.
I shouldn’t be watching. She’s my best friend’s mom. She’s… She—damn… I—nothing goin’ on in my brain but her and the steady stroke of my hand as she turns. That face, those tits; nipples tight from the air. She leans into the window, hands pressed against the glass, bending over like I’m taking her from the back.
I can’t help but imagine it, my dick slick, drilling into her pussy again and again. Slapping her ass, pulling her hair, making her scream my name like it’s her favorite fuckin’ word. Begging me for more…
I don’t want anyone else. I don’t even look at anyone else anymore
She stands a little straighter, letting her hands run up her body ‘til they rest on top of her breasts, squeezing and pressing them together for me. For me.
My thoughts race again as I buck up into my fist now, thinking about her on top of me. My mouth on her chest, lips locked on her nipple, while my hands grip her hips forcing her to bounce on it.
I picture her straddling me, sinking down slow while I groan into her neck as she whispers that ‘she knows… knows how bad I want her. She wants me too. You feel so fuckin’ good, Rafe. Rafe… Rafe… Rafe…’
I can hear her taking back everything she said about me before, fighting for a breath, giving her everything she told me I couldn’t handle and more. Tears soaking her cheeks ‘cause she’s that fucked out—that full of me that she doesn’t even know what to do with herself.
She wants me. She left the lotion for me. She left that goddamn curtain open for this.
Her hands fall, taking the garter and panties with it, her little heeled feet kicking it out of the way as she continues her show.
I wish she could hear the praise leaving my lips—feel my hands on her curves. The slick sounds of her pussy squelching through the room instead of my hand doin’ it all myself.
She looks down at her vanity and my mind paints the picture of me in front of her on my knees… thankin’ her for letting me beg. She moves toward the vanity, pumps something into her palm—clear and shiny. She's not even in the room with me and I can smell her body oil; burnt into my memory the first time she walked past me at the frat.
She pours more in her hand rubbing it in, tauntingly slow. Her fingers ghost along her collar bones, down her arms, dragging across her stomach, cupping her breasts. Her whole body starts to shimmer, glistening the light.
She walks over to her bed and picks up a dress—red and dangerous. One I’ve never seen. She tilts her head, like she’s not sure it’s the one. It is. Fuck, it is. And I’m gonna be the one to take it off her.
I'm barely holding on, muscles twitching, Adam’s apple bobbing, willing her to look at me so she can watch me cum for her.
Wanna show her how pretty I look when I fall apart.
I fight to keep my eyes open, biting down so hard on my lip I swear I drew blood and the second I'm about to go she steps out of my view.
“Fuck!” I curse, far too fuckin’ loud. I pull my hands back from my length and the breath punches out my chest. Where the fuck did she go?
My cock aches. My heart hurts. My pride in shambles as my head falls back to the headboard with a heavy thud.
A snarl leaves my lips as heat builds behind my eyes like I might actually cry over this. The fuck is wrong with me?
But I’m still hard. I reach over, stretching out my hand, slamming my fist down on the lotion in frustration, filling my hand again with the creamy white.
I start to stroke slow again… I mean she might come back… Right? Might pull that dress off her bed.
Damn, she's cruel. She loves to tease… Loves to make me suffer. She's perfect.
Mine.
Just ‘cause she's gone doesn't mean she didn't do all that shit for me… I just lasted too long. I got fuckin’ stamina, sweetheart. What can I say—fuuuuck me. She steals my thoughts and kills my last two brain cells, making my eyes roll back in my skull, cum spurting out of my dick in thick loads, painting across my chest and abs.
I cum so fuckin’ hard my toes curl, sobbing out a moan when she steps into my view.
A blood-red corset, panties, and a brand-new garter belt hugging her thighs like my hands should be. Her lips are glossed, eyes twinkling with mischief as she looks down at me and smiles.
A smile curls at the corner of my lips too because hell fuckin’ yeah… Mmm fuck—it was all for me… The perfect foreplay. Prepping me for more like I knew she was gonna. My girl… My fuckin’ baby.
Tonight’s the night. I’m gonna touch her, taste her, strip that corset off her body; rub that oil in with my hands this time.
She moves slow, hips swaying, arms drifting like if she was given a stage and some music I’d be flicking cash at her happily.
I don’t even breathe—just stare, waiting for my sign to come inside.
“C’mon, baby,” I mutter into the empty room, voice rough and deep, way too desperate for anyone but her.
But then she lifts up the dress and in that moment everything tilts.
The mood changes and she steps into it, zipping it up, walking toward her vanity to grab her perfume, snagging a watch off the stand that costs more than my tuition I'm sure.
She tugs the blinds shut—sealing it off like it never meant anything.
My stomach sinks. My blood runs cold. I don’t blink as she breezes down the stairs. And when she hits the main floor her attention is stolen; head turning toward the front door.
I can barely see… My panic sets in. I stand up fast, stumbling toward the window as I wipe myself off with my shirt. I toss it to the corner in frustration as I see who it is.
Aaron Mixen.
The mayor of Miami… Billionaire. Yacht-club royalty. Grade-A asshole. Newly number one on my fuckin’ shit list.
He hands her a massive bouquet of exotic flowers and she smiles way too bright; the man walkin’ into my—her… her house. And just like that jealousy creeps in.
I can’t breathe. The hell does he mean to her anyway? I need to know—I deserve to know. Maybe he’s already seen all of her, touched everything I haven't gotten to yet.
God, I’d fuckin’ kill him.
He shuffles into the kitchen like he owns the place—like he owns her. And I fuckin’ hate that. I hate him. I do.
He doesn’t get to have that.
I pace along the window, watching it all play out. She grabs a crystal vase filling it with water while he drinks her in. He says something and she laughs, tossing her head back, and he looks so proud of himself it makes me sick.
My heart breaks but I don’t look away. Maybe she’s performing. Maybe she’s still playing the game. Maybe she wants me to be jealous.
I squint at the window, petty and sick with it, my jaw tight enough to snap.
He’s not even that hot… He’s just got money… Power. That’s it. Nothin’ I can't get with time.
I got money… More than she probably thinks. I’m not some broke frat boy who lives off ramen, protein powder, and cheap beer, I’ve got investments. An Inheritance.
I can take care of her better than that smooth-talking, fake-ass, AARP-adjacent; “can't go more than one round without takin’ a knee”, asshole. Bet he can't even bench 130… Bet I could beat him in a foot race for sure. Or a fight… sounds like a good idea to me.
I grab my phone, looking down at her pet name I saved for her on my screen. Just in case of emergencies… Well, this is the worst case scenario. This is a fucking crisis.
☏ Rafe Cameron | you looked unreal tonight
I send it and stare at my phone sitting heavy in my hand. My breathing’s shallow, stuck in my aching chest. The pool house is dead—just the low thrum of the AC and the slow, steady thud of my own pulse in my head.
Buzz.
☏ Sugar | Who’s this?
Bullshit. She knows. She’s fuckin’ with me.
I glance out the window as they leave—heels clicking across the marble, dress painted on her curves, that diabolical flick of her eyes in my direction before she slipped out the door.
☏ Rafe Cameron | you know exactly who this is
☏ Sugar | Kelce?
I laugh—short and bitter. Yeah... That stings more than it should.
☏ Rafe Cameron | funny
☏ Rafe Cameron | you think you’re being cute
☏ Rafe Cameron | but I know you saw me watching I know you left the curtain open I know what you were doing
☏ Rafe Cameron | you wanted me to see you
Nothing. Her silence has sweat dripping down my back; skin crawling with each passing moment. Why the hell is she ignoring me huh?
☏ Rafe Cameron | have your little dinner
☏ Rafe Cameron | play pretend with him
☏ Rafe Cameron | ill be here when you’re done
Buzz.
☏ Sugar | I don’t plan on coming home.
I crash down on the bed, phone trembling in my fist in frustration.
☏ Rafe Cameron | does he even know how to take care of you?
☏ Sugar | And you think you do?
☏ Rafe Cameron | ya I do
☏ Rafe Cameron | you just don't believe me
☏ Rafe Cameron | ill prove it to if you let me
☏ Sugar | I’ve given you plenty of chances Rafe. You just don’t know what to do with them.
God. My stomach churns. She’s right. She knows she is. I’ve fucked up more times than I can count, and yet—
☏ Rafe Cameron | i know
☏ Rafe Cameron | ive never tried for anyone the way i try for you
☏ Rafe Cameron | ive done more for you this summer than ive ever done for anyone
☏ Sugar | You’re a cart boy at a luxury golf course. Stop acting like you do manual labor.
☏ Sugar | You drink as many drinks as you pour. Tan more than you work. You’re late Rafe. Consistently fucking late. What do you want a trophy?
I flinch. I deserve that. But I don’t let it go.
☏ Rafe Cameron | im serious
☏ Rafe Cameron | im different with you
☏ Rafe Cameron | i think about you all the time
☏ Rafe Cameron | even when you’re not around even when I shouldn’t
☏ Sugar | You say all the right things when you’re desperate. You had all summer to prove it and you didn’t. You cost me money. Real money. And I don’t forget that kind of thing.
I drop my head into my hands.
☏ Rafe Cameron | i know i fucked up
☏ Rafe Cameron | ill fix it if you let me. just let me close ill show you
☏ Sugar | You think you’re owed a chance?
☏ Sugar | You’re not.
☏ Rafe Cameron | i know but im still asking
☏ Rafe Cameron | please ill be good from now on ok??
She reads it and leaves me on read like I figured she would.
☏ Sugar | Rafe Cameron submissive. Never thought I’d see the day.
☏ Rafe Cameron | ill be anything you want
☏ Rafe Cameron | you want control? take it U wanna fuck me up? go ahead U want me to take care of you? done
☏ Sugar | You can’t even take care of yourself.
☏ Rafe Cameron | one chance
☏ Rafe Cameron | hello???
☏ Rafe Cameron | say something
☏ Sugar | You lasted longer than I thought you would.
Fuck… Holy shit…
“Yeah you liked that shit?” I mutter, catching my face reflected in the window, basking in the praise I’d been aching for.
☏ Rafe Cameron | yeah? So you want me in your room when you get home or what?
☏ Sugar | I don’t know. Probably not.
I bite the inside of my cheek, heat prickles up my neck.
☏ Sugar | Haven’t decided.
☏ Rafe Cameron | just tell me what it’ll take ill do anything
☏ Sugar | You always say that. Then you do something stupid.
☏ Sugar | You don’t get to be lazy and loyal. Pick one.
☏ Rafe Cameron | loyal fucking loyal alright?
☏ Rafe Cameron | im not just some frat boy
☏ Sugar | You kind of are.
☏ Sugar | Goodnight Rafe.
That’s it. Just that. Like she patted me on the head like a dog and told me to heel. I lock the phone and slam it on the bed—heart shattered, cock softening, pride fucking demolished. She saw everything. Left me here. Used me.
She had me the second she looked at me. Game over.
And the worst part? He gets her tonight—Buzz.
I lunge for the phone so fast I nearly fall off the bed.
☏ Sugar | Found this in my son’s laundry. Is it yours?
I tap the image and my whole body reacts because there she is, wearing my shirt—my frat letters and nothing else. She shouldn’t look that good in something that belongs to me.
My baggy sleeves hang past her elbows; hem lifted just enough to show her ass in the mirror. Her skin looks so soft. Her lips, softer. There’s a smug little smile tugging at her mouth like she knows this is so much more than a little “lost-and-found message” this is a sext posed as a simple question.
Is this yours? Yeah the fuck it is, sweetheart. You’re mine— “Fuck!” I'm too distracted to register it ‘til it’s halfway gone, the disappearing ink fading fast.
“Fucking—fuck!” My voice cracks as I mash my thumb and pointer fingers against the sides, trying to grab a screenshot, but I lock my fuckin’ phone instead.
☏ Rafe Cameron | please send it again please please
☏ Rafe Cameron | im begging you
☏ Rafe Cameron | baby cmon please
She reads it.
Nothing.
I’m half to tears. Chest burning. Cock hard again as my stomach twists in knots.
I should stop. Cling to what’s left of my dignity. But I can’t. So I do the only thing I know how to do.
I flip the camera and raise my phone; chest still bare; my hair a mess from yanking on it. I lower the camera just enough, with my abs tight and my gold chain catching the light coming through the dark window.
I grab my dick, pump it a few times, giving her the same look she gave me and—Snap.
Send.
Read.
Typing…
Nothing.
Typing…
Nothing.
☏ Rafe | sorry ill chill
And then—
Buzz.
☏ Sugar | That looks fun to ride.
My stomach flips. I laugh—soft and breathless as a flicker of hope flashes across my screen—
☏ Sugar | Too bad it doesn’t come with follow-through.
☏ Sugar | You know Mixen asked me on this date like a man?
☏ Sugar | Picked the place. Picked me up. Held the fuckin’ door.
☏ Sugar | It wasn’t just some late-night horny text.
☏ Sugar | His words match his actions and he deserves my full attention
☏ Sugar | Goodnight
The high evaporates and my face falls. I sit there for a second. My hand still clutching the phone like it might vibrate again and save me. But it doesn’t— “Yo! Rafe! Let’s go! Pre-game at Ella’s!” I jump out of my skin, sucking in a breath as I scramble for my clothes when the locked door handle jiggles. “Rafe? Man, you good?”
“I’m not going,” I call out. “Feel like shit. M’gonna sleep it off.”
He yells out about some bar I won’t be attending tonight. Doors slam, music bumps, cars peel out of her driveway, disappearing into the night.
And then, nothing… Just me and her backyard. Me and this terrible, aching silence.
The grass is cool and damp under my feet, clashing with the night air, balmy and thick. The pool glows blue beside me—the main house shimmering; towering behind tall glass.
And just like every other decision I’ve made tonight, I’m painfully aware this is a bad idea. I know what this looks like. I know she said ‘no’. But I also know she sent that photo.
I told her I’d be good… but is that what she wants? I mean really… ‘Cause from where I’m standin’, me lookin’ up at her and her lookin’ down a little old me… Well, I think she just might love it.
I think this is exactly what my girl wants.
The back door’s unlocked and I slip inside the kitchen; heart pounding but there’s this new wave of confidence… a swagger that has me snaggin’ that popped bottle of red wine off the kitchen counter, making my way up the stairs as I take a long, needed pull.
Her house smells like her: intoxicating, rich, getting stronger by the second as I push open the door to the bedroom.
I don’t bother turning on the light, smiling to myself as I walk past the mirror she took that selfie in, strolling straight to bed.
The bottle thumps against the night stand. I grab the waistband of my shorts, pushing them down, lowering my body into her sheets.
Her pillow is feather-soft, soaked in her smell. I press my face into it, feeling my cock press stiff against the mattress already.
I roll over and stretch out, throwing my hands behind my head, letting my eyes fall shut for the moment because I know one thing.
rafe gets into a fight with his dad and finally makes the call instead of lingering
“you shut your fuckin mouth rafe! think you can step up for me? fuckin failure that's what you are!” ward's backed rafe into a corner now pushing him with every word. at first rafe tried to defend himself, y'know get a couple words before his fathers became too real. too true.
ward gives him a final look of disgust before pushing rafe's head back once more and slamming the door. rafe screams throwing the lamp beside him causing glass to skid across the polished wooden floors. “fucking failure my ass, i've done the most for this bullshit family. don't see sarah going out of her way to help anyone of us.” rafe continues to shout ignoring the fact that the rest of his family was still trying to fall asleep.
all he could think of was running back to his room and calling you, but he couldn't. not because you blocked him or anything you were too indifferent for that, and it scared him. scared him enough to not call for two months and fall back into his deplorable party life.
everyone noticed because even a blind man could see rafe wasn't as great as he wanted to be. the excess usage and anger, swallowing anything in a red solo cup like it was second nature. but no one cared enough to mention it and if they did they weren't ready to meet his wrath over a simple “are you okay?”
topper and kelce were fine with it because they finally got their friend back from the oh so evil witch that tried steer him on the right path. so as soon as rafe started declining the fancy parties or the borderline aa meetings they decided you ruined him. sarah barely interacted with him due to his violent outbursts becoming more common even when you were with him she kept a safe distance. he'd burnt so many bridges that the only ones that remained were pulling him further down.
rafe hurried up the stairs like his footsteps volume would cover the soft sniffles that refused to stop. to make matters worse whilst running he stubbed his toe and as per usual he made it a problem for everyone in the house. “fuck!” he screams. “stupid fuckin stairs.”
he finally gets to his room and scrambles for his phone before curling up on his bed and hesitantly bringing his finger to call the contact 'my pretty girl'. he didn't change it, couldn't bring himself to because somewhere in that twisted mind of his he held hope that you wouldn't leave. that you guys would get back together and everything would be perfect again.
at the same time he also knew you were always clear on your boundaries but one call for peace of mind was worth whatever punishment he got and if it was from you he'd be fine.
you're forced awake as your ringtone blares in your ears a single 'x' on the screen. “hello?” you yawn. rafe doesn't reply at first; sure he's thought about this moment a trillion times but having it play out the same as his dreams wasn't expected. “i need you.” he cries, trying to calm himself with the sound of soft breaths and muffled jazz on the other side. you roll your eyes having remembered you explicitly instructing him not to contact you again. it was only meant to be for a week or two but seeing how peaceful life was without rafe just extended your timing.
“wrong number rafe you need a therapist.” “no no no i just need you just stay on the phone...please?” his whiny voice brought a subtle grin to your face, after all begging is one of the many ways to your heart so you decided to humour him. “what is it rafe?”
he breathes raggedly in attempts to go back to his normal self. “my uh dad.” he sniffles with every word and it almost makes you feel bad for the guy. almost. “do i have to remind you of how good you're doing without me?” rafe groans forcing his head further into his pillow, after the breakup he'd spammed you with texts that relayed the same message of him not needing you and when he got no response he just got more embarrassed.
“i don't wanna be better jus' yours i swear. i promise i promise.” he repeats the words like they’re prayer tiring himself out every time he speaks. you let out a blithe giggle that calls him closer to the phone. “you were mine rafey.” your teeth caught your bottom lip. “but you're insensitive and i'm not.” “i know your the kindest most prettiest girl in the world baby and i don't wanna be me if you don't like it.” “don't flatter me rafe.” you purred rolling your eyes at the smile his words gifted you.
“you deserve it. not any of the shit i put you through.” “you can't respect me and not yourself rafe. its not good for you.” he groans “nothing’s good for me except you.” the two of you sit in silence processing the words just exchanged. “you wanna come over.” he murmurs cautiously hiding his face from the phone as if you were watching his every move. “now why would i come to you.” “sorry i'm sorry. can i come over?”
you pause already knowing your answer but to have him struggle with the suspense is an opportunity you couldn't pass up. “hmmm. but you’re not nice rafey not to me not to a lot of people.” your words were like a stab to the chest especially with their candied tone. he sat up quickly forcing his brain to find anything to convince you. “c'mon i gotta see you baby. i’ll be good i’ll be nice ill be whatever you need me to be. i’ll apologise to you and anyone you want i swear it.”
“alright alright just bring me some snacks will you?”
sure enough rafe grabs his keys and runs to kitchen grabbing any snack he thought you'd like. he gets to his car dropping the bag in the passenger before speeding off. he almost runs a red with his eagerness but who was to blame him he was gonna see his girl even if it was only for the one night.
the tires screeched against the gravel from your driveway signalling his arrival though it took 10 minutes or so for him to actually open the door. rafe spent the first five telling himself to be normal and strangling the wheel to death and the next pacing infront of your door which was entertaining to watch from the camera.
when he finally grabbed the key from under the plant pot—because you knew he was never going to disrespect you like that and force you to change it’s place—he creeped up the stairs bag awkwardly swaying with each step before reaching your room. “rafe?” he took that as invitation to come in but before you could give him a lecture on how he had to stay on the far end of the bed as tall as he was he crawled over to you and laid his head on your chest.
you laughed softly trying to push the man off of you but he refused taking you sitting up as the opportunity to wrap his hands around you. “missed you.” his breath fanned across your skin. “you’re not a dog rafe get off.” “don’t do that. i’d be anything for you.” “you gotta move rafe the tv.” “jus’ stay there okay tell me what to do.” he was talking like you’d dissipate if you moved an inch but who gives up the chance to boss the ‘manliest man ever’ around.
the two of you laid on the bed rafe still holding you like he wasn’t planning to let you move and ‘constantine’ played on the tv. your hand cradled his cheek admiring the remnants of tears stuck to his skin and his puffy eyes. “you get prettier when you cry.” all he could do was stare at you. your eyes, your nose. your lips.
he raised a hand to squeeze your face and kiss you softly. “need to stop watching this dc bullshit.” you laughed and swatted his hand away. “not sure you have speaking privileges if you like marvel.” squishing his own in return.
currently watching constantine if you couldn't tell
she straddled him as her strokes grew more rapid in pace, shimmying herself closer. rafe's face was innocent, his eyebrows pinched together softly. she bit her bottom lip to control her smile, bringing his dick against her stomach. her eyes were lit with desire as she took a finger and marked where his tip laid against her skin.
"wanna go inside?" she smiled deviously down at him as no's came out of him in a whiny, lying tone. he cut himself off as he swallowed, and a groan escaped him when he imagined himself inside her.
it didn't matter if he was tired, overstimulated and it hurt.
she was already positioning herself over him, teasing the tip by staying in place, letting the heat and desire rip whimpers out of rafe. he pouted at her, eyes going back and forth between her eyes and pussy.
he shook his head, but his resolve melted as she started to sink down on him. his head froze in place, eyes rolling once, before falling back against the pillows, his whimpers turned into noises of relief. deep breaths, full-on moans, and voice cracks.
she settled, him completely inside of her. she took a breath before resuming her task and tried to remember the mark of where his tip previously was, which now represented how deep he is, "was it right here? you're dick is so big."
"oh, god," he complained, turning his head and muffling himself in her pillow. his teeth gritted before turning into a frown as she stayed still.
heyyyyyyyy! I have a thought. Do you think that reader could get rafe to beg? Like maybe he did smth that pissed reader off so she’s been ignoring him but rage just can’t take it anymore? I love your writing so honestly just go crazy
-👻 anon
a/n. first ask, i'm so excited! in answer to your question: yes! absolutely, yes! this man is soo pussy whipped, he'd do anything for reader. ty for the request, babe!
two hours of you giving rafe the cold shoulder it's all it takes for him to break. he knows he fucked up greatly, but you're just being so mean that he cannot help the way his lips curl into a pout as he kneels in front of you, pleading for your forgiveness.
only you could get rafe motherfucking cameron to beg like this.
"baby, 'm so, so sorry," he apologizes, big hands gripping onto your plush thighs tightly so you can't get away from him this time, not again. "forgive me, yeah? i know i screwed up, and i'm sorry."
his lips start peppering kisses over the sliver of bare skin under the hem of your top as he keeps muttering words of repentance, the actions making your heart melt. "it won't happen again, i promise to you, angel."
"i'm really pissed at you right now, rafe," you address him for the first time in hours, voice tone sharp.
he doesn't care how cold you sound, though, the fact that you're finally talking to him instead of ignoring his presence nearly makes him cry happy tears. how embarrassing is that? he can't believe you got him this hooked. he should be the one in charge, not you, but, let's be honest, he's too in love with you to even care anymore.
"i know, baby, i'm sorry," he repeats for the hundredth time, puppy, blue eyes staring up at you entreatingly. "what can i do for you to forgive me? i'll do anything, just please, stop being mad."
"anything?"
a mischievous smirk spreads across your pretty face, your mind already conjuring up all the filthy ways he could make it up to you.
"anything, angel."
that's how he ends up tied up to the bed, hands desperately tugging at the fluffy, pink handcuffs in a failed attempt to break free of them while you ride his pretty face. he's fucking drowning in your pussy, dick achingly hard inside his pants.
what a shame you won't make him cum this time, as a little punishment.
your hips rock against his face unabashedly, feeling the way his eager tongue parts your chubby folds to drink up your sweet essence, occasionally slipping inside your pussy to fuck you with it. his nose is rubbing your puffy clit every time you grind down, which has you mewling and shuddering atop him.
"i love you so much, baby," he'd mumble against your cunt, totally mesmerised by the hypnotic sway of your hips and your taste.
your flesh muffle his words and grunts, but you understand what he says and look down at him with adoring eyes, just to find him staring up at you in the same way, pink lips glistening with a combination of your arousal and his spit.
the sight is enough to send you spiralling into a mind blowing orgasm that makes you let out the most lewd moan you've ever made, body shaking as your legs close around his head, almost suffocating him.
"fuck, i love you too," you breath out, the aftershocks of your climax making your brain dizzy. "i forgive you, rafey."
honestly, he doesn't quite understand how this could be a punishment for him, but he's not one to complain.
I think it would be really cool nsfw 46, but changing a little bit, using a toy(Fleshlight) on rafe.
at your mercy
sub!rafe cameron x reader
content warnings: explicit sexual content, sex toys, orgasm denial, sub!rafe makes an appearance again 18+ MDNI
a/n: ou nonnie, i hope this meets your expectations!
come join my one year celebration! - requests are closed!
The humidity of the island’s night clung to your skin as you straddled Rafe's lap on his expensive leather couch from what was supposed to be a chill night in. His hands gripped your hips, possessive and demanding, as he ground against you. The scent of his woody cologne mixed with something uniquely him filled your senses.
"Rafe," you whispered against his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. "I wanna ask you something.”
Rafe, already drunken with lust, hummed as he rasped, “Yeah, baby?”
“Can I use a toy on you?"
He pulled back slightly, his blue eyes darkened with desire and threaded with that familiar stubbornness that clung to him like a second skin. "Nah," he said, his voice rough. "I don't need that shit."
You smirked, leaning in to whisper in his ear, "I dunno, Rafey, I think you'll change your mind."
He scoffed, a low rumble in his chest that vibrated through you. "Not happening. I'm good. Trust me." His hands tightened on your hips, trying to reassert his control to guide the rhythm back to what he wants.
You pull back just enough to look him in the eye, your own gaze challenging. "Are you sure about that? Because I have something new I think you'd really, really like."
"New?" His interest was piqued despite himself. You could see it in the slight dilation of his pupils, the way his grip loosened almost subtly. "What kind of ‘new’?"
You trailed a finger down his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch. "Something that'll make you feel so good, you'll forget we even had this conversation."
"Pretty sure you already do that on your own," Rafe laughed, but it sounded more strained than he’d anticipated. "With that pretty pussy o’ yours."
"Maybe," you conceded, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his jaw. "But think how much better it could be."
He's quiet for a moment, his eyes searching yours. "What is it?"
You smiled, knowing you'd finally reeled him in. "A little surprise. But I promise you'll like it."
He hesitated, that stubborn pride warring with his curiosity and desire. "I don't know..."
"Come on, Rafey," you murmured, nipping at his earlobe. "Where's your sense of adventure? Or are you scared?"
Rafe's back arches off the couch as you slide the fleshlight down his length. His hands, which had been pushing weakly at your shoulders just moments ago, now gripped the leather cushions beside him, knuckles white.
"Fuck—oh god," he gasped, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. "I—I told yo- Fuck."
Your smile, wicked as ever, scared Rafe even through his pleasure while you continued to twist the toy slightly as you pumped it up and down his shaft. "But you're loving it, aren't you, Rafe? Look how hard you are."
A broken moan escaped his lips as you sped up your movements, his head thrown back against the couch and drenched by the same sweat that was beading on his forehead. The sight of him—a man who was so powerful and controlling, now completely at your mercy—sent a thrill through you.
"Please," he whimpered, his usual dominance now completely shattered. "Don't stop, baby..."
You slowed your movements deliberately, teasing him with shallow strokes that made him squirm beneath you. His eyes flutter open, pupils blown wide with lust, a faint blush creeping up his neck. The vulnerability in his expression contrasts sharply with his usual cocky demeanour.
"Look at you," you cooed, your voice low and husky. "Mister big, bad Rafe Cameron, completely undone by a little toy."
"Shut up," he groaned, but there's no heat in his words, only desperation. He tried to thrust deeper into the toy, seeking more friction, more pleasure, but with you hovering over him, you maintained control of the pace, driving him wild with need. It struck you then just how rare this was for him. Rafe always carried himself like he had something to prove, but here, beneath you, there was nothing guarded left in him.
"Or what?" you challenge, swirling your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock as it emerges from the toy. "You'll take over? Show me how it's done?"
His jaw clenched as he struggled between maintaining some semblance of control and surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure you're giving him. You could see the war in his eyes—the pride that's always been his shield battling against the raw desire from being controlled, coursing through him.
"God, you're so beautiful like this," you whispered, leaning down to press your lips along his jawline, mirroring all the times he’d been the one who’d taken the lead. "All vulnerable and needy for me."
"'M not needy," he insists, though his breathy tone betrays him. The admission clearly cost him something, even now, with pleasure pulling him apart piece by piece. When you twist the toy again, he cried out, his hips lifting off the couch and brushing against your thighs. "Fuck! Okay—okay, I need it. Is that what you want to hear?"
You smiled against his skin, while your free hand slid up his chest to feel his racing heart. "It's a start."
You increased your pace, watching as his composure unravelled completely. His moans grew louder and more desperate, filling the expensive living room that had probably only ever heard grunts from him. The fleshlight glided smoothly along his length, coated with his arousal, each stroke bringing him closer to the edge.
"Please, baby, please," he begged, his voice cracking. "I'm so close..."
“Hmmm, not yet.” You slowed down the pace again, drawing a frustrated groan from him. "I want to enjoy this a little longer." He glared at you, his expression showing more need and desperation.
"You're killing me."
"You'll survive," you teased, but you resumed a steady rhythm that had him writhing beneath you once more. His hands moved from the couch to your body, gripping your thighs, then sliding up to your ass, pulling you closer as if he could somehow merge with you.
And when you least expected it, he lifted himself up and instead captured your lips in a desperate, sloppy kiss that's all teeth, tongue, with the same hints of need that you’d been so drunk off of. You deepened the kiss as you quickened your strokes again, feeling his body tense beneath you.
"Come for me, Rafe," you whisper against his mouth. "Let go."
With a final, guttural moan, he did, his body convulsing as he spilled into the toy. You continued your movements, drawing out his orgasm until he's completely spent, collapsing back against the couch with a satisfied sigh. You gently removed the toy, setting it aside before lowering yourself onto his chest.
His arms went to immediately wrap around you, holding you close as his breathing gradually returned to normal. For all the bravado Rafe carried around like armour, moments like this always reminded you how touch-starved he really was. The smug teasing from earlier had vanished completely, replaced by something softer that he’d probably deny the second morning came.
Somewhere between the shared silence and lingering warmth, Rafe quipped, “Don’t I get aftercare now?”
