cameronsmuse

[cameronsmuse]

stepbro!rafe cums prematurely and you haven’t even finished :( he’s all embarrassed and red and then fucks you so hard so you forget it😫

wrote this here. thanks for the request, angel.

[cameronsmuse]

— stepbro!rafe finishes first

warnings: mdni, stepcest, unprotected sex, creampie

you don't even say anything. just blink up at him, dazed, thighs still trembling from how close you were—and then not. rafe's breath catches like you slapped him. he's still inside you, barely, and already softening. flushed all the way to his ears, his jaw tight with shame. "fuck, i-baby, i didn't mean to-"

you tilt your head, all faux sweet. "you're done?"

his eyes flicker. something feral cracks open under the humiliation. "don't say it like that."

"like what?" you blink again, innocent, but your tone drips with bite. "like you couldn't even last two minutes in your stepsister's pussy?"

he growls. actually growls. next thing you know, he's flipping you over, pinning your wrists down, dragging himself back to life against the mess he already made of you. then he fucks you like he's got something to prove. like he wants to ruin the memory of that first time so completely it never happened. like he needs to make sure the only thing you remember is how he made you cry when you came.

twice. maybe three times. (you lose count somewhere around the second apology.)

[cameronsmuse]

stepbro!rafe finds a dildo in reader’s drawer?

wrote it here. thanks for the request anon!

[cameronsmuse]

— stepbro!rafe finds a dildo in your drawer

warnings: mdni, stepcest, masturbation mention / use of sex toy, voyeurism / snooping, sexual innuendos

he knows it’s wrong to snoop. you could be out of the shower any second now, but he doesn’t care. snooping isn’t as wrong as having his tongue inside his stepsister’s pussy and that’s happened more than once.

“fuck it,” he murmurs, looking towards the door of your bathroom and back to your room. he can still hear the taps of water hitting the shower floor and your hums as you scrub yourself head to toe. quietly, he slithers over to your bedside drawer. rafe knows something is up with you. you’ve been turning him down, not showing up to his room at night, and avoiding him. at first he could ignore it. he could play that game too. but now it’s been two weeks without you and he’s going insane.

he tugs open the drawers of the white beside table. whatever’s in here must hint to your recent attitude. he riffles through your junk, tossing your various makeup products and jewelry behind him. it’s not until he makes it to the third and bottom drawer that he finds something. the thick, pink object catches his eye. it’s beneath your magazines and polaroid pictures (he pocketed some of those for later).

“what the—” he blinks, holding the dildo in his hand. it’s blush pink with a large tip and even larger shaft. rafe estimates it’s around eight inches. the base has suction cups for anchoring. he almost chokes on his spit. you replaced him with a piece of plastic.

“rafe?” you furrow your brows. he’s kneeling beside your bed, hunched over as he examines something. he whips his head to look at you. his mouth is agape, eyes dark, and pants incredibly tight. that’s when your gaze drops to what he’s holding. “oh my god!” you squeal, clutching your bathrobe and running towards him.

he doesn’t even flinch. you scramble across the room, wet hair dripping against your collarbone, robe yanked shut in a panic as you grab for the damn thing. your hand closes around the base just as his does, a ridiculous little tug-of-war over eight inches of silicone and mortification.

“give it back!” you hiss, cheeks flushed and eyes wild.

he holds it out of reach, arm locked straight like you’re some bratty kid he’s teasing. “this is what you’ve been using instead of me?”

“i—no—” you stammer, horrified. “you don’t get to ask me that!”

“i think i do,” rafe says, voice low, dangerous. his gaze flickers from your mouth to your damp collarbone to the angry twist of your fingers on your robe. “you’ve been avoiding me. locking your door. and now i find this in your drawer like it’s no big deal?”

you glare, still clutching the robe like it’s armor. “because it’s not a big deal, rafe. it’s a toy. people have them.”

he tilts his head, tongue resting against his teeth, and god you hate how smug he looks—like he’s already won something. “not when you’ve got me,” he murmurs. “not when i’ve had you whining under me so good you forgot your own name.” your mouth opens, then shuts, and rafe sees it—that flicker of memory behind your eyes. the way your jaw tenses, like you’re holding it back. “don’t act all innocent now,” he continues, standing slowly. the toy’s still in his hand. “you’re the one who crawled into my bed that night.”

“that was a mistake,” you snap, even though it wasn’t. not even close. “this—this situation is a mistake.”

his gaze darkens. “say that again,” rafe says, stepping closer, his voice now a whisper-sharp threat. “say it like you mean it.”

your back hits the edge of the dresser, breath catching. “i said—” but you don’t get to finish, because suddenly his mouth is on yours. the plastic toy clatters to the floor, forgotten, as he presses you back like he’s making a point. your hands push at his chest, just for a second. then they’re clutching his shirt, dragging him closer.

he groans into your mouth, dragging his teeth over your lower lip like he wants to hurt you and worship you in the same breath. when he finally pulls back, you’re both breathing hard. his voice is rough, thick with months of frustration and something darker. “now, you’re gonna show me how you use that toy.”

your pulse skitters. you try to find your voice, but it comes out a whisper. “or what?”

his lips twitch into a cruel little smile. “or i’ll make sure you can’t walk to your drawer.”

[cameronsmuse]

i’m back from the dead…

[cameronsmuse]

ty for reviving the stepbro !rafe tag

my pleasure baby😛

[cameronsmuse]

— guidelines

do’s: the basics (smut, fluff, angst), stepcest, unprotected sex, breeding, degradation, bondage, somnophilia, period sex, exhibitionism, cockwarming, threesomes, corruption kink, size kink, spit, daddy/sir kink

don’t’s: piss kink, incest, non-con, any kink involving fecal matter, rape, pegging, pedophilia/ageplay, raceplay

only writing for rafe cameron as of now.

note: be kind. everyone is human. inbox hate will not be posted or responded to. hate on any of my posts (via comments or reposts) will be deleted. if you don’t agree with or like my fics, just scroll or block me. this is a safe place <3

[cameronsmuse]

— masterlist

stepbro!rafe catches you sneaking a boy in

stepbro!rafe may have a breeding kink

stepbro!rafe is big

stepbro!rafe finds a dildo in your drawer

stepbro!rafe finishes first

[cameronsmuse]

— stepbro!rafe is big

warnings: mdni, stepcest, unprotected sex

his thick tip presses against your drooling entrance. then, slowly he sinks in. “fuck,” he grunts. only his tip is inside and he can barely fit anymore.

“too big!” you whimper, already feeling hazy from the delicious stretch. he chuckles and shakes his head, staring into your eyes. he pulls his tip out and tries the thrust in again, but your tight cunt halts his entry.

“never had a real dick, huh?” he spits, grabbing your ankles harshly and throwing them over his shoulders.

his words land like a slap. it’s true. all the boys you’ve been with in the past weren’t anything compared to the length and girth of your stepbrother.

you try to snap something back, but all that comes out is a choked gasp as he thrusts again, deeper this time, the head of him forcing past the resistance. you feel split, branded. your hands claw uselessly at the sheets.

“relax,” he growls, like it’s easy. like you’re not being cracked open by the sheer weight of him. he’s watching you fall apart, eyes dark and greedy, hips grinding slow just to hear the way you whimper. “you’ll take it,” he murmurs, almost gently now, dragging his palm up your thigh and gripping hard enough to bruise. “every inch. even if i have to break you open for it.”

and you want him to.

[cameronsmuse]

— stepbro!rafe may have a breeding kink

warnings: mdni, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, degradation

“fuck,” he groans, relentlessly moving in and out of your soaked cunt. he has been pounding into you for an hour now. you checked out after your third orgasm and his second. now, you lay limp and overstimulated as he continues his assault on your pussy.

“rafe, feels so good.” you manage to whimper out. it’s the first coherent thing you’ve said in a few minutes. he replies with a grunt and smushes your head deeper into your pillows.

“damn right it does,” he smirks and slaps your ass. you begin to approach your fourth orgasm of the night as his long cock keeps kissing your cervix. “gonna cum for me again?” he chuckles, reaching his hand around you to rub circles on your clit. you practically scream in response. thank god everyone is out of the house again today. your cunt clamps on him like a vice, suffocating his thickness.

“rafe!” you call out, reaching your hand back to grab onto his forearm.

“rafe!” he mocks your tone in a high-pitched voice. “rafe, what?” he asks, grabbing onto your hair and pulling your head up. he leans forward, hitting even deeper inside of you at this angle. “rafe cum inside of me? or rafe fill me with your cum?” he degrades. “don’t worry, baby. i’ll do just that.” and he does.

with a few final punishing thrusts, he paints your walls white. he moans, releasing so deep inside of you. he keeps himself buried in you, just to make sure it sticks. and when he finally pulls out, he takes his fingers and stuffs his release back into you. “can’t waste any of that.” he murmurs, three fingers deep inside of you.

[cameronsmuse]

— stepbro!rafe catches you sneaking a boy in

warnings: mdni, stepcest (pls scroll of you don’t like), oral (f receiving), blackmail, dom/sub undertones, unprotected sex, creampie

“shh,” you hush the boy in front of you. the clock on the wall read well past midnight and here you were tip-toeing around with some boy you met last week.

the house is unusually quiet. your stepdad and mom are out in vacation together for the week, wheezie is doing a marathon sleepover at her friend’s, and sarah off doing whatever she does. that leaves just you and rafe, and well, the boy you’re currently sneaking in.

rafe was a nightmare of a stepbrother. he was constantly making things worse for you. like revealing your secret stash of weed to your mother as if he doesn’t have coke in every crevice of his room. or embarrassing you at parties that he invited you to. you hated him. no, you loathed him.

“i thought no one was home?” the boy inquires, raising his eyebrows.

“everyone besides my psycho stepbrother,” you roll your eyes and huff. “hopefully he’s passed out from whatever drug he snorted.” you squeeze the boy’s hand tighter as you navigate through the large halls of the house. you both walk up the stairs as if you were in a mine field.

when you notice that rafe’s light is off in his room, you let out a breath. “c’mon, we’re in the clear for now.” you whisper with a smirk. the boy grins as you tug him into your room.

he kisses you like he’s starving, like it’s a race. he’s sloppy and excited and a little too eager, which you would’ve normally found charming if your head wasn’t on a constant swivel.

you try to focus—on his hands ghosting over your waist, on the press of his mouth against your neck—but there’s a splinter lodged somewhere in your chest, something restless. you chalk it up to nerves.

the boy—nathan? noah?—sits back on his heels, grinning. “you always this bad?”

you raise a brow. “at sneaking boys into my house? no. you should feel special.”

his laugh is low, cocky. he pushes a strand of hair from your cheek and leans in again, mouth brushing yours. you don’t stop him when his hands slide beneath the hem of your t-shirt, thumbs skating up your ribs, breath hitching when he finds the lace.

you’re in your white set, the pretty one you swore you weren’t wearing for anyone. the one you like because it hugs your hips just right and makes your legs look longer when the moonlight hits them.

something in you shifts when the boy—shit, what is his name—mutters a breathless “wow.” but something else entirely detonates when the door slams open.

“what the fuck?” your stomach hits the floor.

rafe.

he’s shirtless, wearing a pair of black sweats that hang low on his hips, showing off his prominent v-line. his hair’s messy like he just got out of bed, but his eyes are wide open—bloodshot, electric, murderous. his gaze darts once—to the boy kneeling in front of you—and then locks on you in your little white bra and matching panties, cheeks flushed, thighs parted just slightly.

“get the fuck out of this house,” he barks at the boy, voice venomous. the guy scrambles back, wide eyed, muttering something that might’ve been an apology. “now,” rafe growls, stepping forward.

that’s all it takes. the guy bolts, tripping over his own shoes as he flees down the hall. you don’t move. you don’t breathe. rafe turns his eyes on you next—and it’s worse. it’s so much worse.

his mouth is tight. his jaw flexes once, twice. his voice is low and lethal when he speaks. “the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“why does it matter to you?” you retort, annoyance etched into your face. you cross your arms over your chest, trying to hide your body without moving and exposing more.

rafe’s lip twitches. he laughs. it’s a hardy and mean sound. “why does it matter to me?” his face returns back to its stone exterior. “because i don’t want my family’s name tarnished because you get wet for every asshole on the island.”

you scoff. he’s such a fucking hypocrite. “yeah? and your coke addiction hasn’t already tarnished the name?” your tone is laced with razors. “oh, and what about your drug dealing? that hasn’t done anything either?”

his face drops. his vision blurs until all he can see is red. you think you can talk to him like he’s trash as you sit practically naked on your bed. “fuck you.” he mutters, stalking towards you with his finger pointed straight towards your face. “i’m sure mommy is gonna be real happy when i tell her what you were up to.”

the insult is on the tip of your tongue. you want to yell at him. punch him. maybe even kill him. but then the memory floods your senses.

“you have one more strike, y/n.” your mother’s voice rings through your head like an alarm. “one more before you’re cut off from everything. and i mean it. i’m happy and you’re not going to ruin that for me.”

the blood drains from your face. you couldn’t survive without her—without this. sure, you were kooks before she married ward, but you don’t have anything without her.

“rafe,” you begin, voice shaking. “you can’t tell her.”

his smirk deepens. “or what?”

“or she’ll kick me out!” you ramble, hands in your hair and rubbing down your face. “i’ll have nothing! she’ll disown me.” your chest feels tight at the thought. how could you be this reckless? you messed up over a quick fuck that you didn’t even care about. and now rafe has all the power in his hands.

“i don’t know,” he shrugs, the corners of his lips still pulled upwards. “that sounds pretty nice to me.”

what a sadistic fuck.

and with that, he turns on his heels and makes his way for the door. you can feel your heart in your ears. your pulse is like lava through your veins. “wait,” you call out, voice breaking and desperate. you knees hit your fluffy, white rug as you drop to them in front of your bed. he stops in his tracks and turns. you’re clad in just your matching set, your fairy lights illuminate your teary eyes. he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“what?”

you bite your lip. “i’ll do anything, rafe.” the words taste like bile in your throat. “anything.” you drag out the word, fluttering your lashes in the same way you do to seduce the boys at the country club.

rafe chuckles, pants growing tighter at the mere thought. this…this has been the goal all along for him. god, he’s never wanted anyone as much as you. the second he saw you—dirty looking anyone in sight and dressing too scandalous to be around your new family—he felt a need to ruin you. to make you consumed by him in every way.

“you couldn’t handle it.” he says. “you don’t know what you’re saying-”

“you think i don’t notice how you look at me, rafe?” you cut him off. the floor creaks as you crawl towards him on all fours. his breath hitches. “you think i don’t notice how my panties disappear, hm?” you stop when you’re right in front of him.

“don’t act so innocent.” he mutters, fingers tangling in your hair. “i heard you moan my name last weekend.” he tugs on your hair and holds tilts your hair up.

“i wasn’t,” you stumble over your words. “i didn’t-” you shake your head like it will help with anything.

“just shut up.” he leans down until he’s inches away from your lips. his breath fans across your mouth, hot and uneven, and the tension between you coils like a live wire. “don’t play stupid now,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your cheek, deceptively gentle. “you started this.”

your throat tightens. your skin is burning. you hate him. you hate him. but your thighs are pressed together and your pulse is screaming and there’s something so cruel and gorgeous in the way he looks at you—like you’re prey, but he’s starving and worshipful all at once.

“you came crawling,” he whispers, voice dripping with venom and victory, “so don’t pretend you weren’t begging for this.”

you want to scream. you want to claw at him. instead, you tilt your chin higher, eyes daring, lashes wet with tears you refuse to blink away. “and if i was?” you say, voice small but sharp. “you gonna punish me for it?”

he smiles like a devil. not the charming kind, not the one from church steps and fake apologies. the kind that wears blood like cologne. “no,” he drawls, fingers grazing the strap of your bra, knuckles skimming the line of your collarbone. “i’m gonna make you remember it.”

you flinch, not away, forward. he takes that as permission. god help you, maybe it is. the back of your knees hit the floor as he pushes you gently—just enough to get you on your heels, looking up at him. it’s humiliating and intimate and intoxicating, the way he stares down at you like he’s waited for this moment his whole life.

“you really thought you could fuck some random loser in my house,” rafe mutters, kneeling to meet your gaze, voice laced with mockery, “and i wouldn’t notice?”

“i didn’t think you cared,” you whisper.

“of course i care,” he spits, grabbing your jaw, angling your face toward his. “you’re mine. whether you like it or not.”

you swallow around the knot in your throat, fingers clutching the hem of his sweats. “then prove it.”

his eyes narrow, like you just lit a fuse. “baby,” he says, dark and gleaming, “i’m about to ruin you.”

you barely have time to breathe before he’s on you. his hands in your hair, mouth crashing against yours—hungry, brutal, all teeth and tongue. there’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses. it’s all punishment and possession. the months of tension that lived in every hallway stare, every shouted insult, now stripped down to skin and breath and heat.

you gasp when he pulls back and drags you up by your wrist, your knees burning from the carpet. “bed,” he growls. “now.” you scramble back, heart slamming against your ribs, legs shaking as you climb onto the mattress. he doesn’t give you a second to settle. he grabs your ankles and yanks you to the edge so fast your breath catches. you’re splayed out beneath him in seconds, white lace barely holding you together.

his eyes drag down your body like he’s memorizing a crime scene. “fucking knew you wanted this,” he mutters, yanking the bra down so your tits spill out. “walking around this house like you don’t know what you do to me.”

you open your mouth to argue but he grabs your throat, thumb pressing right under your jaw. “don’t. even. start.” you whimper, back arching. he grins. “that’s better.”

he slides your panties off in one slow, deliberate motion, watching your face the whole time. your breath stutters. your thighs twitch. “fuckin’ soaked,” he mutters, cock twitching in his sweats. “and you were gonna waste this on that clown? huh?” he slaps your thigh, not hard, but just enough to make your breath catch. “answer me.”

“n-no,” you stammer. “i—rafe, please—”

“what, baby?” he mocks, leaning in until his breath ghosts over your cunt. “please what?” you feel feral. like you’d tear your own skin off if it meant he’d touch you.

“please—want you. want you so bad—”

that’s all it takes. he drops to his knees and buries his face in you like he’s starving. his tongue laps up your arousal like it’s honey. he sucks on your clit just enough to have you screaming. then he moves lower. he keeps his eyes on yours as his tongue reaches your drooling hole. he kitten licks it at first, but when you start whimpering, he goes all in. he fucks his tongue in and out of you.

you grab at his hair, at the sheets, at anything. “fuck, rafe—”

“say it again,” he growls against your clit. “louder.”

“rafe—fuck—oh my god—” he doesn’t stop. not when you shake. not when you beg. not when you cry out his name like it’s the only word you’ve ever known. he eats you through it, makes you take it. your whole body tightens and shatters around his mouth, legs trembling as you fall apart.

when he pulls back, his lips are slick with you. his smile is pure sin. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and climbs over you, pinning your wrists to the bed. you don’t even flinch when he pulls his cock out, hard and leaking, thick enough to make your breath catch. you just look up at him—eyes glassy, lips parted—like you want to be ruined.

and rafe’s never seen anything more perfect. “you’re mine now,” he mutters, voice gravel. “say it.”

you nod, breathless. “yours.”

he slides in deep, and you cry out—more from the stretch than the pain. he doesn’t wait. he fucks you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. like you’re not his stepsister. like the world doesn’t exist beyond this room. his hips slam into you over and over, each thrust brutal and relentless, and all you can do is take it. “this what you wanted?” he pants, dragging your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half. “this what you fucking needed?”

you can’t speak. can barely breathe. every word is a moan. every moan is his name. and when you come again, sobbing and clinging to him, he watches your face the whole time. like he’s memorizing what it looks like when you break for him.

he doesn’t pull out. he stays buried deep in you as he empties his load inside of you. you don’t panic as he cums inside. you just clench around him even tighter because you both know what this is now—a war neither of you want to end.

note: joining the fandom in a bold way😭 please just scroll if you don’t like or aren’t into this type of fic

[cameronsmuse]

welcome to my bookstore

charlotte she/her. twenty. film lover with a taste for morally gray men. literature babe. star wars nerd. avid antagonist defender. glass half full girlie. fox pretty. mdni.

navi: masterlist . guidelines .

INBOX! — open