DUMB ANGEL
Pairing: BigBro!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warning: Sexual Content, Dark, Inc3st (Keep in mind that this is pure fiction to keep the fantacy with Rafe Cameron, this actions in real life are totally horrible)
♱THE BIGGEST SIN♱
The music downstairs was still thumping softly when you stepped into the living room, rubbing at your eyes. You hadn’t realized Rafe would have friends over tonight, but there they were — Topper sprawled in one armchair, Kelce perched on the edge of the sofa, all of them laughing about something only they understood.
Rafe’s head lifted first. His smirk dropped when he saw you, replaced by something sharper, unreadable. You were in a tiny halter top and a skirt you’d thrown on without thinking, barefoot on the polished wood floors.
“Hey, Rafe,” you said softly, stepping toward him.
He was on his feet in two strides, one arm sliding around your shoulders in a firm, almost protective hug. You felt his palm slide across the bare skin of your upper back and shivered. “How are you, little one?” he murmured, looking down at you with that familiar dangerous smile.
“Very well,” you mumbled, suddenly aware of Topper’s and Kelce’s eyes on you. You were tired, disoriented, but Rafe’s grip was warm, anchoring.
“Hey, Y/N,” Kelce called lazily.
“You look beautiful,” Topper added, grin slow.
The air changed. Rafe’s head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. “Watch your mouth,” he snapped, voice low but edged like a blade. “Shut up.”
Topper raised his hands, playing it off. “I didn’t mean anything, man—”
But Rafe wasn’t listening anymore. He bent down, brushing his lips close to your ear. “Come on,” he said softly, “I’ll take you upstairs.”
You blinked up at him. “Rafey, I can—”
“Shh,” he murmured, and before you could protest again, he had scooped you up, one arm under your knees, one behind your back, carrying you easily past his friends and up the grand staircase.
Your head lolled against his chest, the smell of his cologne filling your nose. It was comforting and suffocating at once.
By the time you reached your room, the house felt quiet, the only sound his footsteps and your heartbeat. He kicked the door closed behind him and crossed to the bed, laying you down gently.
“You’re falling asleep like that,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. “You can’t sleep in those clothes.”
“What?” you murmured, blinking at him. “I can do it, Rafey.” Your voice was soft, trusting.
“No, no, no, baby, let me help you,” he said, voice low and coaxing, his hand already brushing your waist. “You’re half-asleep.”
His fingers slid under the hem of your halter top, slow and careful, lifting it inch by inch until the cool air hit your skin. You shivered, instinctively covering your chest with your arms.
“Don’t do that,” he whispered. “I’m your big brother. You can trust me.” His eyes flicked over you, dark and unreadable. “You’re so beautiful.”
Your stomach fluttered, a nervous, confused feeling you couldn’t name. “Rafe…”
“Lie down,” he said softly, but it was more command than suggestion.
You sank back onto the pillows, dazed. Rafe shifted until he was kneeling between your knees at the edge of the bed, his hands running down from your ankles to your thighs in a slow, deliberate stroke that left goosebumps in its wake.
“Shh,” he murmured again, his fingers finding the waistband of your skirt. “Let me take care of you baby”
He began to tug the fabric down, his touch both gentle and too much at once, your pulse hammering as the forbidden line blurred under his hands.
Rafe slid the skirt past your hips with unhurried care, his knuckles grazing your thighs as if savoring every second. You squirmed, hands instinctively twitching toward the hem, but his voice cut through the silence.
“Don’t,” he murmured. “Let me.”
Your hands froze on the sheets. He drew the skirt down your legs and tossed it aside, leaving you in soft cotton underwear and the rapid thrum of your heartbeat in your ears.
You sat up on your elbows, blinking at him, your voice a hushed whisper. “Rafe… this feels—”
“Shh.” He leaned closer, bracing one hand beside your hip, his shadow falling over you. “You think too much. You trust me, don’t you?”
Your lips parted. “…of course I do.”
“Good girl.” The words rolled off his tongue like silk, low and rough. He brought his hand to your ankle again, this time tracing slow circles with his thumb as he traveled upward. Past your shin, the inside of your knee, higher still until he was pressing against the soft skin of your inner thigh.
You gasped softly, hips twitching away, but there was nowhere to go. His body caged you in, and the weight of his stare pinned you harder than his touch.
“Look at you,” he whispered, blue eyes flicking down over your body before finding your wide, uncertain gaze again. “So innocent. So trusting. You don’t even see how dangerous it is, letting me this close.”
Your breath caught. “Rafe…”
He smiled, slow and wolfish, leaning down until his lips nearly brushed yours. “You should be scared of me,” he said, voice dark with promise. “But you’re not. That’s why you’re mine.”
The word mine curled inside you, a spark of heat mixing with the guilt and confusion. You wanted to push him back. You wanted to stop this. But when his hand pressed firmer against your thigh, when his nose brushed your cheek, you tilted toward him instead.
He caught the movement instantly, lips curving into a smirk before he closed the gap. His mouth met yours in a kiss that was deep, slow, consuming. The kind that stole the breath right out of your lungs and left your body trembling under his.
You whimpered against his lips, half protest, half plea, and he swallowed the sound, pulling you closer until your chest pressed flush against his.
“Nobody will know,” he whispered against your mouth, the words dangerous and coaxing all at once. “Not Sarah, not anyone. Just you and me, angel.”
His hand slid higher, dangerously close now, and your pulse hammered so loud you thought he could hear it. You broke the kiss for air, dazed, whispering, “This is wrong…”
His smile was dark, triumphant, as his thumb stroked over your trembling thigh. “Wrong has never felt this good, has it?”
Rafe’s mouth trailed from your lips to your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. His hand gripped your hip firmly, pinning you to the bed even as your legs shifted nervously beneath him.
“Rafe…” Your voice cracked, almost pleading, but you didn’t push him away.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark and hungry. “Shh, baby. Don’t fight me. I’m your big brother, remember? I’m supposed to take care of you.”
The words tangled in your head, wrong and comforting all at once. His thumb brushed across your stomach, dipping lower, and you sucked in a sharp breath.
“You come in here looking so sweet, so innocent,” he murmured, lowering himself down your body. His lips pressed a hot kiss to your collarbone, then another just above your chest. “And you expect me not to want you? You think I can just ignore this?”
Your fingers clutched at the sheets. “But… we shouldn’t—”
He chuckled, the sound low and sinful as he kissed down your stomach. “We shouldn’t, but we will.” His hands slid under your thighs, spreading them apart with slow insistence. “Because no one’s ever gonna love you the way I do. No one’s ever gonna take care of you the way I will.”
Your breath hitched as his lips brushed the soft skin of your inner thigh. His grip tightened, keeping you from pulling away. “That boyfriend you had before? Those boys who look at you?” He shook his head, pressing a lingering kiss closer, his voice rough with jealousy. “They don’t deserve you. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”
You whimpered, trembling under his touch, torn between panic and the dizzying pull of heat pooling low in your stomach. “Rafey…”
He lifted his gaze, eyes locking with yours as his lips hovered where you needed him most. The sight of him there — between your legs, dangerous and devoted — stole the last of your resistance.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, almost reverent. “Let me take care of you. Just trust me.”
And before you could respond, his mouth pressed against you, slow and deliberate. You gasped, back arching off the bed, hands flying to his hair instinctively. His grip on your thighs only tightened, holding you in place as if he’d never let you go.
“You taste so sweet,” he groaned against you, his voice muffled, ragged with hunger. “God, I knew you would.”
Your mind spun, a blur of guilt and forbidden pleasure, but his mouth didn’t relent — every kiss, every flick of his tongue was a claim, a reminder that you belonged to him, and him alone.
He slid one arm beneath you, dragging you closer to the edge of the bed so your thighs were draped over his shoulders. His other hand spread across your stomach, holding you down when you tried to squirm away from the intensity.
“That’s it,” he breathed, his eyes flicking up to catch yours. “Look at me, baby.”
You did — wide-eyed, trembling, your heart hammering. His pupils were blown wide, blue ring swallowed by black, his mouth glistening with you. The sight was filthy, and you couldn’t look away.
His words sent a shiver straight through you, shame and heat mixing until you couldn’t tell them apart. Your thighs shook around his head, your body arching as he sucked harder, dragging the flat of his tongue against you again and again until your vision blurred.
“Say it,” he growled, his voice rough and demanding. “Say you’re mine.”
“I—” You gasped, unable to form words as another wave of pleasure rolled through you.
“Say it,” he repeated, harsher now, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you still. “Say you’re mine, baby. Right now.”
Your nails scratched at his scalp, your breath breaking into a sob. “I’m yours, Rafey,” you choked out, the words spilling before you could stop them. “I’m yours.”
He groaned, deep and satisfied, and the sound vibrated against you until you came apart completely, trembling and clinging to him. He didn’t stop until you were shuddering under his mouth, your thighs tightening around his head, your body surrendering to every flick of his tongue.
When he finally pulled back, his face was dark and flushed, his jaw set with something almost violent. He crawled up over you, bracing himself on his hands as he hovered above, his breath ragged against your cheek.
“That’s right,” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous as his thumb brushed your swollen lip. “You’re mine. Always have been.”
Your chest rose and fell under him, your heart still racing, and even as guilt curled somewhere deep inside you, you couldn’t stop yourself from tilting your face up to his, lips parting. He kissed you then — slow, deep, tasting of you and of everything forbidden — and you felt yourself falling all over again, unable to fight it.
-
Kelce leaned back against the couch, smirking at him. “What’s with you?” he asked, eyebrows raised, his voice teasing. “You look like you just saw a ghost or something.”
Rafe shot him a flat look, the corner of his mouth twitching in the faintest shadow of a grin. “What do you care?” he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Topper turned his head, studying Rafe with the easy suspicion of someone who knew him too well. “Dude, you were gone for a while. Thought you were just gonna take her upstairs, not disappearing.”
“Yeah,” Kelce added with a laugh, “and now you come back looking like you just won the damn lottery.”
Rafe ignored both of them, dropping onto the couch with his usual heavy sprawl, one arm hooked over the backrest. He grabbed the remote, tossed it at Kelce without even glancing. “Turn on the game,” he said smoothly, voice calm again. “Let’s watch something worth a damn.”
Kelce scoffed, but obeyed, flipping channels. Topper raised his brows again, but let it drop, muttering something under his breath as he reached for his own drink.
Rafe leaned back, beer in hand, pretending his pulse wasn’t still running wild. His friends had no idea what had just happened upstairs, and they never would. That was his secret. Yours and his.
He took another long sip of beer, hiding the smirk that threatened to break across his face. You were his now — whether you understood it yet or not.
---
The door clicked shut behind him, and you sat up straighter on the bed, heart thumping faster as Rafe’s tall frame filled the room. His steps were confident, heavy, like he owned the very space you breathed in.
“Baby, are you still awake?” His voice was low, lazy, but there was something in the way he asked that made it feel more like a demand than a question.
You nodded quickly, fingers knotting into the sheets. It had been impossible to sleep after what he’d done earlier. Your mind replayed it again and again, the feeling of his hands, his words, the way he’d looked at you.
Rafe’s lips curved in a smirk as he came closer, stopping right in front of the bed. He leaned down just enough to brush his knuckles against your jaw. “Good girl.”
You swallowed, shifting a little under his gaze. “What… what are you doing here?”
“You know,” he said, sinking down beside you, his thigh pressing against yours, “after what happened a little while ago…” His hand slid along your bare arm, slow and possessive, “…I need some help.”
Your lips parted, unsure what he meant. But before you could even form the words, he tilted his head, eyes burning into yours. “Would you help your big bro?”
Your breath hitched. The way he said it was thick, coaxing, almost tender, but his stare left no room to deny him.
“Of course, Rafey,” you whispered, your voice shaking but honest. “Anything.”
The sound of his laugh was low, satisfied. He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “That’s my girl.”
When he sat back, his hands moved to his waistband, fingers undoing the button with slow precision. The motion made your stomach twist with confusion, anticipation, fear — all tangled together.
“I need your beautiful little mouth to warm me up,” he whispered, like it was the simplest request in the world.
Your eyes widened, a flush creeping up your neck. “Rafe…”
“Hey,” he murmured, leaning in to steal a kiss, his mouth soft and demanding at once. His hand cupped your face, holding you still as his tongue brushed yours. The taste of him, the pressure of his lips, made your head spin.
When he pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours, his eyes locked on you. “I’ll guide you, angel. This is okay, we are just showing our love" His tone was dangerous and sweet all at once, like velvet wrapped around a knife.
He slid lower, dragging the fabric down his hips with maddening ease, until nothing separated him from your wide-eyed stare. His smirk widened at the way you froze, your breath faltering, your innocence almost palpable.
“You trust me, don’t you?” he asked softly, his hand stroking your hair as though the question were tender. But his eyes told you it wasn’t a question at all.
“I… I trust you,” you whispered, so quiet you weren’t sure he’d even heard it.
But he had. He froze, pulling back just enough to look down at you, his eyes dark and hungry, his smirk sharper now. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
Rafe’s hands gripped your head firmly, holding you steady as he leaned back against the headboard. His eyes never left yours, dark and intense, full of something between hunger and obsession.
“You’re so good, angel,” he murmured, voice rough with need. “Look at you… just for me.”
“Keep looking at me,” he commanded softly, one hand sliding into your hair to guide your head closer. “I want to see you… watch you.”
You obeyed, your lips and tongue following his silent instructions, and he let out a sharp exhale of pleasure, his body twitching under your touch. “Yes… just like that… you have no idea what you do to me.”
You started sucking his dick like it was the most delicious thing your tongue had ever tasted. It was so big, barely half of it fitting into your mouth. "Shit, baby, suck it harder" he exhales "make your brother happy."
Rafe’s body shuddered under you as you finished, small whimpers leaving your lips, and he groaned low, his hands tightening on your hips. “That’s it… so good, angel,” he murmured, voice rough and ragged.
Without hesitation, he grabbed you, lifting you effortlessly and pulling you down so you straddled him. The shift left you flush, heat pooling as his chest pressed against yours, his hands settling firmly on your hips, guiding you with that same possessive control.
“Now,” he murmured, eyes locking onto yours, dark and intense. “I want you to move for me, slowly… feel every inch of me, and do exactly what I say. You trust me, right?”
You nodded, still breathless from what had just happened, heart hammering. “Yes, Rafe…”
He tilted his head, leaning down, lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I want to see you feel this, angel… I want to show you how it’s supposed to be. Let me guide you.”
You shivered, overwhelmed, heart racing, but instinctively leaned closer to him. “I… I want to do what you say,” you whispered.
“Good girl,” he purred, voice thick with obsession. “Let me show you. Every move… every touch… it’s for you. And you’re mine. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” you breathed, heat pooling, eyes wide and full of trust.
“Then feel me,” he said, hands guiding your hips, tilting your body over his, “and let me take you where you’re supposed to go.”
As you slowly slide down onto his cock, something explodes inside him. A beast he wasn't planning on caged again. Nothing would stop him with you, or anyone else.
“Slow, baby… just like that,” he murmured, voice low, rough with need. “Feel every inch of me. I’m right here… only for you. Do you feel that?”
“Yes,” you breathed, chest heaving, heat pooling between you. “I… I feel it.”
“Like that,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to yours. “God, angel… you’re so perfect like this. So tight. So sweet. I knew you’d feel like this.”
You gasped, half from the words, half from the sensation. Everything about him was overwhelming—the closeness, the scent of him, the way his voice dipped when he called you angel.
You moved tentatively, your knees pressing into the seat for balance. His fingers dug into your skin as he helped you, the rhythm slow and almost torturous. Every small sound you made drove him further, his eyes locked on yours with a hunger you’d never seen before.
“Look at me when you do that,” he commanded softly, his tone dark but coaxing. “Eyes on me, angel. I want to see my lil` sis jumping and bouncing on my cock"
A sharp knock cracked through the air, shattering the haze you were in. Both of you froze for a heartbeat. The knock came again, heavier this time, followed by a voice muffled through the wood but still unmistakable.
“Y/N?” Ward’s voice this time — hard, cutting, all business. “Princess? Have you seen Rafe?”
Your whole body went rigid. Heat turned to ice in your veins. You tried to push up, but Rafe’s hands clamped around your hips like steel, pinning you exactly where he wanted you. His eyes gleamed, a dangerous mix of lust and amusement.
“Don’t stop,” he hissed against your throat, firmly, teeth grazing your skin. “Keep moving.”
“R‑Rafe—” you whispered, panicked, but his hands guided your hips in a slow, deliberate roll that made your breath hitch. He was still under you, still moving you, still in control, even as his father stood just a few feet away on the other side of a thin door.
“Answer him,” Rafe growled softly. His fingers dug into your skin, forcing you to obey.
“I… no,” you stammered, trying to steady your voice, “I haven’t seen him dad…”
Rafe’s palm covered your mouth just as a trembling sigh threatened to escape. His lips brushed your ear. “Good girl,” he murmured, dark and low.
There was a pause. Then Ward’s voice again, clipped. “Alright sweetheart. Thaks, rest.” Footsteps retreating down the hall.
You sagged in relief, but Rafe only smiled, that feral smile that meant danger. “Good thing he left,” he whispered, eyes never leaving yours. “I didn't lock the door.”
"He'd be so proud if he saw how much we're loving each other," Rafe murmurs, "but it's going to be our little secret, okay? I don't want him to know I'm about to cum inside my sister." His gaze was blacker than ever, squeezing you like he wouldn't let you go.
His hands slid back down to your waist, grip unyielding. “You’re not stopping now,” he said, tone almost a purr, but laced with command. “Not when we’re this close.”
He rolled his hips up beneath you, forcing you to keep the rhythm he wanted, guiding you with subtle, insistent pressure. The risk, the unlocked door, the heavy silence beyond it — it all made his breathing heavier, his eyes darker.