st8rkey

[st8rkey]

♡ bitchy!pogue!reader brings a friend to tanneyhill..

warnings: sex work, threesome (m + f + f), face sitting, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, a little but of wlw

a/n: i’m really nervous about posting this fic in particular because it’s my first time writing smut with another woman so please give me some grace thank youuuu!

“how the fuck did you even discover this place?!” topper ran his hands through his hair, his jaw falling slack as his eyes danced around the room full of pretty girls prancing around in trashy lingerie and heels. ‘pink sugar’ was by far the most attended to strip joint on the cut— and it showed. as soon as any patron walked in, they were immediately hit with a whirlwind of cheap perfume, body glitter, and sparkly lipgloss. it was every man’s wet dream come true.. including rafe’s.

“life on figure eight gets stale after a while, bro. sometimes you just gotta expand a little bit, y’know?” topper nodded even though the words that rafe just said went in one ear and right out the other. the two of them took a seat in front of the main stage, a waitress wasting no time in getting their drink orders taken up to the front. while rafe had been here a handful of times, topper was like a kid in a candy store as he sat in awe.

meanwhile, you were getting ready in the locker room, both you and your best friend sticking rhinestones around each other’s eyes as you two waited to be called out by the dj for your turn to perform. “it better be a full house tonight.. i already have my eyes on these shoes, and there’s no way in hell i’m not getting them.” you cursed under your breath, running a pink comb through your hair to make sure everything looked perfect.

just as you adjusted the garter straps of your stockings, you heard your name being announced to the crowd outside. “good luck out there!” your bestie called out behind you, a giggle leaving your lips as you waved. even though you were more than familiar with the atmosphere already, you couldn’t help the thumping of your heart everytime you walked out from behind the curtains and felt the burning stares from the hungry men in the audience against your skin.

you smiled sweetly, the lights dimming just in time for you to lock eyes with two guys in the front. one looked laid back, his gaze raking down your figure as he drank from his glass, and the other looked like he couldn’t believe you were real. you knew right away he was a first timer by the way he leaned forward in his seat. pretending no one else was in the room, you started dancing, the floor already being littered with various dollar bills.

you tuned out the whistles and the hollering and focused on only the music, your set going by faster than you thought. with only one more song left on your list of requests, you stepped down from the stage, your hips swaying as you walked over to the two men you saw when you first came out. snaking your hands down the chest of the one with a buzz cut, you kneeled between his thighs before feeling him over his lap, his jaw clenching as he watched you intently.

rafe knew as soon as you looked up at him with something a little more than just lust in your eyes, he was going to have to take you away from here, your glossy lips shining underneath the neon lighting of the club. originally coming out to pre-game for the rager rafe was throwing tonight at tanneyhill, he figured he’d get the party going early with you looking so fucking pretty between his legs. he didn’t get to dwell on the sight for too long before you left him alone just as the song ended.

flashing him a wink, rafe watched you disappear backstage, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. blinking out of his trance, rafe told topper he would be right back with more drinks before making his way over to the bar. “excuse me,” rafe motioned the bartender over, “do you know how i can talk to the girl that was just on stage?” he asked. “y/n? she usually comes out and converses with the crowd when she’s done with a set, she’ll be out here soon.”

quickly ordering three rounds of shots, rafe made his way back over to his seat only to see you and a friend of yours already over there laughing at something topper was saying. “—oh, here he is now..” topper laughed nervously, taking the tray of shots out of rafe’s hands as you two shared a look. “you talking about me?” his voice alone gave you butterflies, his tall form making you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

“don’t worry he didn’t say anything bad..” kitty, your best friend, teased. rafe looked over at her, his eyes wandering down her own sexy get-up. fixing his gaze back on you, rafe leaned down to whisper in your ear. “do you do personal parties?” he all but groaned once he smelled your sugary sweet skin, the sound shooting straight down to your panties. “personal parties?” you repeated, “it’s gonna cost you.” rafe scoffed, not worried about the money.

“give me a number.” he placed a gentle hand on the small of your back, pulling you close. you and kitty side glanced one another, a smile gracing your lips as your nails snaked around the buckle of his belt. “what kind of party?” you asked, making sure you were aware of what you were getting yourself into before agreeing to anything. “i’m throwing a house party tonight on figure eight, all of my friends are big spenders.. just putting that out there.”

you thought it over for a moment, a small part of you feeling intimidated since you weren’t familar with figure eight, nor did you know anyone that lived on that side of the island. “ten thousand, and i get to bring my friend over here.” you nodded towards kitty who was already sitting in topper’s lap. “perfect. do you need a second to get your things? i can take both of you straight over there.” you hummed at his words, silently signaling kitty to meet you in the back.

she excused herself from topper, both of you walking closely with each other to the locker rooms. “so what are we doing?” she was quick to touch up her makeup, changing out of her dancing shoes and into some platform heels. “that guy out there is willing to give me ten thousand to go to a party he’s having on figure eight, but if you come with me we’ll split it, plus he said his friends were ‘big spenders’, so that’s five thousand each excluding tips.”

without having to say another word, kitty was immediately on board, both of you squealing excitedly before grabbing your purses from your lockers. following the guys out of the club, you allowed rafe to open the passenger door for you, topper and kitty filing in the back before rafe started up his truck. he put on his music loud enough for you to feel the bass in your chest, a mix of excitement and anticipation swirling in your tummy.

you didn’t know what you were expecting to pull up to, but a mansion as huge as rafe’s definitely wasn’t on your list of possibilities. there was cars already filling the streets, people lining the gates of the house as rafe parked in the driveway, his arms wrapping around your waist as he helped you get down from the truck. you and kitty waited for him to start letting people in before leading both of you through the front door, topper following closely behind.

“i just need you two to cater towards my people, alright? these guys don’t know what a good time really looks like and i want y’all to be the ones to show them, ‘sound good?” just as he was going to send you and kitty off to the living room, you stopped him. “we need to get paid before we do anything.” rafe glanced between you and your bestie and nodded. “of course, why don’t you two follow me upstairs and we can get that out of the way?”

doing as you were told, you and kitty both looked around the house as he lead both of you to the master bedroom. “it’s in here.” he welcomed you two in, doing a quick sweep of the hallway before locking the door behind him. taking a seat on the huge bed, you and kitty watched as rafe took a metal briefcase out of his closet and entered a pin for it to unlock. looking up, rafe admired both of you as kitty ran her fingers through your hair, a smile adorning your lips as she did so.

both of you were so unremarkably gorgeous, it was hard for him to count money as you two giggled with each other. while fixing one of the rhinestones on kitty’s face, she was staring at the body glitter on your cleavage, running a finger over the sparkly dust. “are you trying to cop a feel?” you teased, moving your hand to rest on her thigh. rafe’s jaw clenched at the sight. “maybe..” kitty laughed, both of you leaning into each other as your hands wandered further up underneath her skirt.

rafe cleared his throat, both of you snapping out of whatever this was. “this is the money right here,” he held up the stacks of cash for you two to see, “however, both of you seemed to have piqued my interest..” glancing at each other confusingly, you and kitty waited for rafe to explain. walking over to the chair that sat in the corner of the room, he took a seat. “take each other’s clothes off.” at this, you felt your heart starting to beat in your ears.

sharing a look, you and kitty had the same nervous expression written all over your faces. “for ten more grand, can you beautiful ladies let me watch?” you had to refrain from letting your jaw drop to the floor, your stomach flipping at the new offer. kitty scooted closer to you, her hand shielding her mouth as she whispered in your ear. “what do you think?” blinking, you stole a glance at the full brief case that sat on the hardwood desk against the wall.

“i think he can do better than ten thousand dollars..” you whispered back, your faces just mere inches away from each other’s. “make it fifteen.” you looked over at rafe, shrugging off your coat to reveal your outfit from earlier. “how about twenty?” kitty swore you could hear her heart beating out of her chest. “tell him it’s a deal.” she whispered, getting up from her spot on his bed. “we’ll do it.” with his cock already stirring in his pants, he leaned back in his seat as you and kitty pressed a soft kiss to each other’s lips.

stepping out of your heels, you snaked your fingers behind kitty’s top, her hands resting on the globes of your ass as you untied the strings to her sequined bra. you and kitty have been best friends for as long as you can remember, you two literally started dancing at pink sugar together, there was nothing that you two hadn’t seen of each other already. “are you okay?” she spoke low so rafe couldn’t hear. humming softly, you kissed her again, allowing her to slip off the lace material of your underwear.

rafe swallowed thickly, his eyes traveling over your naked figure. despite there being two of you, he found himself zeroed in on only yourself, your stare holding his as kitty kissed down your neck. “should we include him?” you whispered against her skin, running your palms down her side. “you like him, don’t you?” she giggled. you blinked slowly, refraining from smiling as you hummed quietly. “go get him.” rafe shifted his weight in his chair as you walked over, carefully straddling his lap.

“me and kitty want to share you..” you ran your hands over his chest before undoing the buttons of his shirt, the sight of his toned stomach encouraging you to do away with his belt next. rafe watched you as you palmed him through his pants, his tongue poking out to run over his bottom lip. taking his hand in yours, you helped him stand up on his feet before getting him out of his clothes and leading him to where you and kitty were.

laying him down, rafe looked at the two of you as each of you kneeled on either sides of him. “tell us what you want us to do.” kitty stroked his inner thigh while you took his cock in your hand, a strangled groan rumbling from his chest at your touch. his chest rose and fell while he took a moment to think. “i want kitty on my face and you on my cock.” he looked at you with hooded eyes, your head moving in kitty’s direction. “whatever you want, handsome.”

you and your best friend held hands as if to hold onto each other for leverage, her mouth falling open as rafe skillfully circled her entrance with his tongue, her hips moving smoothly so the tip of his nose was nudging her clit with every stroke. you on the other hand, could barely keep up with his thrusts as he stuffed you full, your moans bouncing off of his bedroom walls. “fuck, he feels so good.” you whimpered, nearly doubling over as he started thrusting from underneath you even harder.

kitty’s head hung low in defeat as she rode rafe’s face, her thighs trembling around his head as he licked and sucked at her soaked cunt. you clenched around him, squeezing him tightly as he groaned in response. kitty was speechless at the whole ordeal, her eyes rolling far back into her head as rafe held onto her thighs so she couldn’t get away from him. “oh, god—!” kitty gasped, her chest rising and falling as rafe pushed her over the edge, her hands dropping from yours in order to dig her nails into his skin.

rafe cursed when he felt the stinging sensation, your hips still moving as he loosened his grip on kitty’s thighs. he kept up his ministrations until your best friend got off of him with a squeal, overstimulation setting in as she laid next to him still going through the aftershocks of her orgasm. rafe licked his lips clean, wasting no time in sitting up against his headboard, his hands grabbing onto the globes of your ass so he could bounce you on top of him.

you buried your face in his chest, the scent of his cologne only adding to your cock drunk state. “you’re so fucking tight, holy shit—” he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth, your clit meeting his pubic bone as kitty took a seat behind you, her hands coming around to cup your tits as she moved your hair to one side of your shoulders to expose your neck. holding your head up, you shuddered when you felt her lips on your skin, her teeth nipping the sensitive flesh there.

you were a mess by the time rafe’s hips started bucking, kitty’s lips finding yours as you came with a cry, his moans echoing in your ears as he pulled you against his chest. you clenched around him as he came inside of you, his cum painting your insides as he panted. letting out a sigh, rafe thumbed your chin, both of you sharing a heated kiss before kitty got up and helped you slide off of him. “you okay?” she asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “yes, are you?” kitty nodded, both of you slipping back on your clothes.

rafe watched as you two cleaned yourselves up, his hand motioning towards the money. “it’s all there..” he trailed off, “kitty you think i can get a word alone with y/n here?” grabbing her stack, she nodded before going into the bathroom, leaving you and rafe alone together. “i want you to come back tomorrow, ‘spend the weekend with me.” you bit your lip, glancing over at the bathroom door. “i don’t know if kitty will be busy—”

“no, just you,” he cut you off, “i want you by yourself.”

thank you nonnie for celebrating with me ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[st8rkey]

i felt like i read the worlds greatest thing ever

Unmasked

summary: pretending to be rafe’s girlfriend to save his image, keep his dad off his back and improve his reputation? easy. keeping it fake and casual? much harder than you thought. [REQUESTED!]

contents: best friends to lovers, fake dating, fluff, hint of angst. | SMUT: unprotected sex (don’t do that irl), oral (fem receiving), fingering.

wc: 8k. [i got excited i’m sorry]

my masterlist! | requests are open

Tannyhill estate sat heavy under the weight of humidity, the sun spilling through the tall windows. Rafe stood just inside the study, jaw tight, one foot tapping silently against the patterned rug. He didn’t sit, even though Ward had gestured to the chair across from him. That particular power play didn’t work anymore—not since Rafe realized how little his father’s invitations actually meant.

Ward sipped casually from a lowball glass, his posture was the same as always, straight-backed, shoulders squared. His voice was syrupy sweet, too warm, that sticky-sweet brand of fake kindness Rafe could spot from a mile away.

“Oldest friend of mine’s getting married this weekend,” His father said. “Tommy Wexler. You remember him, don’t you? Used to bring you those little wooden boats when you were a kid.”

Rafe’s mouth twitched. “Think I crashed one of ‘em into the dock.”

Ward smiled like Rafe’s confession was the most precious thing he’d ever heard, but his eyes stayed sharp. “Yeah, well, Tommy always said you had spirit.”

There was a brief pause, and then Ward slid in the real reason Rafe had been summoned, carefully wrapped in the guise of a casual comment.

“It’s going to be a big event,” Ward continued, setting his drink down with a soft clink. “High-profile. Press, old money, people I haven’t seen in decades. I told Tommy you’d be there, of course.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “Gee, thanks for asking first.”

Ward ignored him, as always. “And I told him you’d be bringing someone.”

“Sorry, what?”

“A date, Rafe,” Ward said slowly, like the concept might be foreign to him. “A plus one. A girlfriend. Are you familiar with the concept? Someone who can sit beside you, smile at the right people, keep you looking… grounded.”

Rafe crossed his arms. “You mean someone to babysit me.”

“I mean someone to keep you from snorting coke in front of a senator after your third bourbon.”

There it was. The real Ward. The version that came out when he was worried about his perfect image getting smudged by the mess of a son he could never quite figure out how to parent.

“I’m not gonna ruin your friend’s wedding,” Rafe muttered, already annoyed.

“Wouldn’t be the first thing you’ve ruined.” Ward leaned forward, elbows on his knees, the warmth of his tone gone. “Look, I don’t have time to clean up another one of your messes, Rafe. The whole island’s been talking about you lately. Bar fights, late nights, whatever the hell happened with the police last month—”

“That wasn’t my fault,” Rafe snapped.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ward’s voice cut through the air like glass. “Perception is everything. Right now, you look unstable.”

He stood, smoothing down his blazer with practiced precision, adjusting his cufflinks like the conversation bored him.

“You want to keep having access to this family name? To the money? Hell, anything? Then you show up with a woman on your arm who makes you look like a man who’s grown the hell up.”

Rafe scoffed under his breath. “And who the hell am I supposed to ask?”

“You’ve got friends, don’t you? Or at least people who tolerate you.” Ward smirked, leaning back like he was already done with the conversation. Then, as an afterthought, he shrugged and added, “Though considering your track record, I’m guessing trouble’s the only thing that sticks around.”

There it was—the jab. Rafe had known it was coming, felt it circling like a vulture. But even so, it landed like a gut punch. He didn’t flinch, though. Didn’t give Ward the satisfaction.

Instead, he turned toward the door, teeth clenched, his mind already racing. There was only one person he could ask. The only one who’d been there through everything, who wouldn’t laugh in his face or make a scene.

And yeah, you might make him beg a little. But maybe—just maybe—you’d say yes.

Rafe didn’t say another word as he walked out, slamming the study door with just a bit more force than necessary.

The knock on your door came sharp and sudden—three quick raps like he was trying to convince himself not to bolt the second after. You barely glanced up from your phone. Only one person knocked like that.

You padded to the door, opened it, and, yep, called it.

Rafe stood there, looking like he’d either just committed a crime or was about to. Eyes darting, jaw tight, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket.

You leaned against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised. “Well, this can’t be good.”

“I need a favor,” he said, tone low.

You crossed your arms, lips already curving. “No shit. You only show up like this when you need something. What is it this time—bail money or an alibi?”

Rafe let out a breath, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Cute.”

“I try,” you said sweetly. “Now spit it out.”

He shifted on his feet like the words were physically painful to say. Rafe was always composed around you, cocky, teasing, that irritating brand of charm that only worked because he knew how much it made people weak in the knees. But right now? He looked… thrown. Like he couldn’t decide if he should pace or run.

“There’s this wedding,” he finally said.

“Is that your way of proposing to me?”

He gave you a flat look. “Will you shut up and let me finish?”

You laughed, stepping aside to let him in. “By all means, come in and ruin my peaceful afternoon.”

He brushed past you, familiar in the way only someone who’s known you for years could be. Didn’t even wait for permission before flopping onto your couch like it belonged to him. Which, to be fair, it practically did—he’d spent enough late nights here, crashing after parties, fights, or those weird existential spirals he only ever let you witness.

You settled into the armchair across from him. “So? Wedding?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. My dad’s oldest friend is getting married this weekend. Big event. Press, old money. Some villa upstate.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Sounds fancy. What’s it got to do with me?”

“He told me I have to bring someone.”

You blinked. “Okay. So bring someone. Though I’m not sure any of my friends would—”

He looked at you like you were missing the point. “Someone who makes me look… put together. Grounded. Normal.”

Your eyes widened just slightly, a beat of silence passing before your mouth twitched. “Wait—wait, are you asking me to be your plus one? Like a fake girlfriend?”

Rafe sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Oh, like what?” you teased. “Like it’s the beginning of every bad romcom ever?”

“I knew this was gonna be a mistake.” He groaned, leaning back and staring at the ceiling.

You grinned, legs folding underneath you. “No, no, I’m loving this. Rafe Cameron, asking me to play pretend at some bougie wedding because daddy’s embarrassed of his little boy? I should frame this memory.”

“Will you just—” He sat up again, tone almost pleading. “Can you just�� be serious for like two seconds?”

That gave you pause. You didn’t hear that tone from him often, not unless things were actually weighing on him. And sure enough, behind the irritated front, you could see it. He was stressed. Probably more than he wanted to admit. Probably more than he even knew.

You softened a little. “Okay. But what’s in it for me?”

“What do you want?”

You hummed, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… maybe that surfboard you stole from Kelce and never gave back?”

“You don’t even surf.”

“Yeah, but it would look great on my wall.”

He rolled his eyes, but then something shifted in his expression, like he just remembered something.

“I’ll get you the internship.”

You hesitated. “What?”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice lower now. “That program you’ve been trying to get into. The one with the research grant and travel stipend? My dad’s one of the donors. He could put in a word—hell, he could handpick the participants if he wanted.”

You stared at him, caught off guard. That wasn’t just a throwaway favor. That was… something you actually wanted. Something you’d worked for, scraped together applications for, lined up references for. And here he was, offering it like it was candy.

“Wow,” you said slowly. “You’re really desperate, huh?”

Rafe gave you a look. “So? Do we have a deal?”

You leaned back, still teasing because, well, that’s who you were with him. “Guess I better practice pretending, baby.”

His groan was immediate and theatrical, like your voice physically pained him. “Don’t ever say it like that again.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, grinning. “You’re gonna have to get used to it if I’m supposed to play your loving, devoted girlfriend. Should I start now? ‘Rafe, sweetheart, do you want another mimosa?’”

He tossed a throw pillow at your head. You ducked it easily, still laughing. And even though you hadn’t said it outright, the answer was already clear.

You were in.

And maybe Rafe didn’t realize it yet, but so was he.

(***)

The villa looked like it had been pulled straight from a luxury magazine—a coastal estate perched high on a cliff, all sweeping balconies and ivory columns, framed by swaying palms and that golden kind of light that made everything look cinematic. Staff in crisp uniforms were already swarming the circular driveway, unloading trunks, offering drinks, speaking in that overly polite tone reserved for guests who wore expensive cologne and carried family names like legacies.

You stepped out of the car behind Rafe, eyes sweeping across the manicured grounds.

“Okay,” you murmured, tugging your overnight bag higher on your shoulder. “So when you said fancy wedding, you weren’t kidding.”

Rafe snorted under his breath. “Yeah, well. Tommy Wexler’s been kissing my dad’s ass since the ‘90s. Place screams midlife crisis money.”

“Midlife crisis money buys some damn nice tile,” you muttered, eyeing the sprawling entrance and towering French doors. “You think the bathroom has a gold toilet?”

Rafe cracked a grin, grabbing your suitcase from you before you could protest. “We can check. I call dibs on trying it first.”

Inside, the villa was even more ridiculous. Polished stone floors, oil paintings of people who probably never smiled in their entire lives, chandeliers that looked like they’d cost more than your car. You tried not to gawk. Tried.

The concierge handed Rafe a keycard with a tight smile. “Mr. Cameron. Your suite is at the end of the east corridor. Room 310.”

“Suite,” you echoed, once you were in the elevator. “Look at you, all grown up and fancy.”

You walked down the quiet hallway together, heels tapping, bags dragging, and Rafe fumbled with the keycard before finally getting the door open. You stepped inside—and paused.

“Rafe.”

“Hm?”

“There’s one bed.”

He tossed his bag onto the end of it and walked right past you like he hadn’t just ruined your peace of mind. “Yeah. So?”

Your head snapped toward him. “One bed.”

He flopped down, arms behind his head, totally unbothered. “You scared you’ll fall in love if we cuddle?”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at his face. “You’re insufferable.”

He caught it one-handed, smirking. “And yet, here you are. Sharing a bed with me for a whole weekend. Weird, hm?”

“Ward did this on purpose,” you muttered, dropping your bag near the armchair. “This is, like, rich dad psychological warfare.”

“Oh, definitely,” Rafe said, already kicking off his shoes. “He probably thinks you’ll tame me. Or I’ll marry you. Either way, he wins.”

You glanced at the bed again, then gave him a dry look. “No funny business, Cameron.”

He raised a hand. “Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

“Details.”

”Details? It undermines its value.”

”Does it?”

You rolled your eyes, heading into the bathroom to start getting ready. “I’m warning you, in case you start spooning me in your sleep. I bite.”

From the other room, you heard him laugh. “Kinda hot.”

“Rafe.”

By the time you finished your makeup and zipped up your dress, the sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting a hazy gold glow through the sheer curtains. You stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing down the fabric and adjusting your earrings.

Rafe had been half-asleep on the bed, but the second you walked out, he froze.

His eyes tracked you from head to toe, slow and deliberate, and he didn’t say anything for a second too long.

“What?” you asked, self-conscious all of a sudden.

He sat up, propping his elbows on his knees. “Damn.”

“What?”

Rafe tilted his head, a smug little grin tugging at his mouth. “Didn’t know you could clean up like that.”

You folded your arms. “I always clean up like this. You just only see me in sweatpants.”

“Exactly,” he said, like he’d won something. “This is new. And distracting, like goddamn.”

“Distracting?” you echoed, dry.

He stood, walking over and reaching out like he might fix the way your strap was sitting. Or maybe just to make you nervous. “Yeah. Gonna be hard to fake a relationship when I’m this close to catching feelings.”

You gave him a look. “Rafe.”

“What? I’m joking.” But he wasn’t. Not entirely. There was something else in his eyes—something quieter, a little unsure, like even he wasn’t sure how much of that had been a joke.

You cleared your throat. “You ready?”

He straightened his blazer, stepped back, and looked at you again—this time more serious. “Yeah. Just… try not to catch too many eyes tonight, alright?”

You raised a brow. “Jealous already?”

He smirked, holding the door open for you. “Let’s just say if anyone tries to flirt with you, I’m legally required to commit at least one felony.”

You brushed past him with a grin. “God, this is gonna be fun.”

And neither of you said it out loud—but in that tiny space between sarcasm and eye contact, something new had started to stir.

Something that felt a lot less fake than either of you were ready to admit.

It was a blur of champagne flutes, strings of fairy lights, and a breeze off the ocean that made everything feel just a little too perfect. You weren’t sure who designed the wedding, but it was the kind of scene Pinterest addicts would kill for: flower arches that looked like they belonged in a perfume ad, candlelit pathways, people who smelled expensive and smiled like they knew they were being watched.

Rafe fit into it too well. Charcoal suit, tailored within an inch of its life. Hair perfectly messy, like he didn’t care even though you knew damn well he spent fifteen minutes in the mirror while you did your makeup. He looked like trouble dressed up in a bowtie, effortlessly in a way that made you forget you were supposed to be faking it.

“Relax,” he murmured, low and close, his hand resting at the small of your back as you walked into the reception. “You’re clenching like someone just insulted your shoes.”

“Someone did insult my shoes last week. It was you.”

“And I stand by it,” he whispered, smirking. “But tonight, I’m your very devoted, very charming boyfriend. So you can forgive me later, babe.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. “If you keep calling me babe like that, I might actually slap you.”

“Careful,” he said, his fingers pressing slightly against your waist, warm even through the thin fabric. “I might like that.”

You turned your head to hide the smile that was definitely not part of the act.

The night went on, a blur of soft jazz and silverware clinking against china. Rafe was all confidence, casually pulling your chair out, his hand never straying far from your body. When you leaned in to say something, he leaned closer. When you laughed, he looked at you like you hung the damn stars.

It was dangerous. Worse, it was convincing.

You saw the way people looked at the two of you, sneaky little smiles, nods, elbow nudges between old friends and family members who thought they were in on some secret. At one point, someone’s mother actually said, “You two are just darling together,” like you’d already sent out save-the-dates.

You weren’t sure when it started. Maybe when he brushed a loose hair behind your ear during dinner, fingertips skimming your cheek. Or when he whispered some offhand joke into the shell of your ear during the best man’s speech, and you had to grip his thigh under the table to stop yourself from laughing out loud.

But somewhere in the middle of pretending, it stopped feeling like an act.

You’d known Rafe your whole life—shared secrets and sarcasm and stupid, reckless nights that never made it into anyone’s stories. But this… this was different. This was Rafe being soft without trying. Protective without the bite. The kind of intimacy that came from knowing someone, not just wanting them.

You were standing beside Rafe near the bar, nursing your drink and lowkey glowing from the avalanche of compliments. Apparently, the two of you made a great-looking couple. Who knew? Your cheeks were warm, maybe from the wine, definitely from the way Rafe kept brushing his thumb along your lower back whenever someone glanced your way. Like a warning. Like a claim.

Then Tommy Wexler stumbled over, tie askew and champagne in hand, smiling like the reception was just an extension of his legacy. He looked like someone who drank expensive bourbon and told stories that started with “Back in my day…”—the kind of man who probably gave Rafe his first cigar and his first hangover.

“Rafe, my boy!” he boomed, clapping him on the shoulder. “And look at you,��� he said, turning to you with a grin so charming it should’ve come with a disclaimer. “Even prettier than Ward said.”

You blinked, caught off guard, and laughed politely. “Thank you. And congrats, Tommy. Everything’s gorgeous.”

“Seriously,” Rafe added, casual as ever. “Didn’t think you had a romantic bone in your body.”

Tommy let out a laugh that probably echoed through the marble halls. “Takes one to know one, huh?”

His gaze flicked between you both—how close you stood, how Rafe’s hand didn’t move from your waist, fingers resting like he’d always had the right. Something in his expression softened.

“About damn time,” he said, with the kind of fondness that made your stomach twist. “Always figured you two would end up together. Hell, thought I’d have to play matchmaker myself.”

You laughed. Sort of. It came out late and a little too breathy. Rafe’s grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly. And for a second, you wondered if he even realized it.

Tommy raised his glass. “To getting it right.”

You clinked glasses, smiled on autopilot, and watched him disappear into the crowd. But the moment stuck like humidity—thick and lingering, settling into the space between you.

Neither of you said anything. Neither of you moved.

Rafe’s hand was still on you. Firm. Present. Steady. And when you finally glanced up at him, his eyes were already on you.

(***)

The reception had shifted into its second wind, the music slower now, warmer. Couples swayed under the fairy lights, heels kicked off, bowties loosened. Somewhere between the champagne and midnight, the whole villa felt like it had exhaled.

You’d been standing near the edge of the terrace, enjoying a brief moment of quiet, drink in hand, hair falling in soft waves down your back. And that’s when he showed up.

Liam fucking Carlisle. He was tall, charming in that polished Ivy League way, with a smile that had probably made half the bridal party blush earlier. You recognized him vaguely—a Kook adjacent, the kind who only summered here now and then but always made sure people remembered him when he did.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Liam said with a smooth grin, leaning in just enough to be noticed. “But I’m glad I did. You look… wow.”

You smiled politely. “Thanks. It’s been a while.”

“Too long, honestly. You’ve always been hard to miss, but tonight? Damn.”

You felt your cheeks warm, though you were more amused than flattered. His flirtation was shameless, charming in the way expensive cologne is. You humored him with a laugh, letting him talk, sipping your drink. He wasn’t being creepy, just bold.

Across the courtyard, Rafe saw everything.

He hadn’t meant to stare. Had told himself to be cool, to let the act ride out and not let anything slip. But then he saw that guy—all white teeth and tailored confidence—leaning in like he knew you.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. His grip on the whiskey glass tightened until the ice inside cracked.

He watched you laugh. Just a quick, polite laugh, but it undid him. Because Rafe knew that laugh. Knew the real one, the one that came out when you were with him, at 2 a.m., tangled in nostalgia and sarcasm. And now this guy was getting it?

Nope. He was already moving.

Crossing the terrace with that walk—shoulders tense, jaw set, the kind of energy that made people instinctively step out of the way. The candlelight flickered in his eyes, sharp and unreadable.

You caught the shift in the air right before Rafe appeared at your side. Without hesitation, he stepped between you and Liam, smooth as hell. His arm slipped around your waist like it belonged there, possessive, protective, like he was marking territory.

“There you are,” Rafe said, low and even, eyes never leaving Liam’s. “Was wondering where you wandered off to, babe.”

The way he said babe wasn’t playful this time. It was a warning.

Liam blinked, clearly clocking the shift. “Rafe. Didn’t realize you two were—”

“We are,” Rafe said before he could finish, smile all teeth. “Thanks for keeping her company, though.”

His tone was polite, but there was no mistaking the edge under it. Like he was daring Liam to test it.

Liam raised his hands in surrender. “No problem, man. Just catching up.”

“Mmhmm,” Rafe said. “You’ve caught up. Now beat it.”

Liam gave a stiff chuckle and backed off with a half-hearted, “Nice seeing you,” before disappearing into the crowd.

The moment Liam backed off, the air between you and Rafe was thick with something unspoken. The polite noise of the reception faded as you stared at him, your mind racing to catch up with what had just happened. Rafe’s hand still rested possessively on your waist, his touch solid, sure.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice low, tight with confusion. Your heart was beating a little too fast, and you weren’t sure if it was from what had just happened or from something else, something else you weren’t ready to face just yet.

Rafe didn’t move. His eyes stayed locked on you, his jaw set in that stubborn, trademark way, like he wasn’t about to back down. His thumb stroked the curve of your waist absently, but the gesture felt too intimate in the moment. Like a reminder of just how close he was.

“That guy was trying to make a move,” Rafe said casually, as if that explained everything.

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “So?”

“So, I couldn’t just let it slide. We’re supposed to be dating, right? Can’t just have some guy coming in and hitting on my girlfriend, can I?” He gave a half-shrug, a cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You blinked, not sure whether to be annoyed or just plain confused. “That’s not part of the act, Rafe.”

“I know it’s not part of the act. But we’re pretending to be a couple, right? So, of course, any boyfriend worth his salt is gonna step in when he notices his girlfriend getting hit on. It’s no big deal.”

The way he said it, all casual and dismissive, didn’t quite match the fire burning in his gaze. The way he was still standing way too close, the way his fingers tightened just slightly around your waist.

“Are you jealous, Rafe?” You couldn’t help yourself.

The question hung in the air between you, but Rafe didn’t flinch. His eyes flickered for just a moment—long enough to catch his breath—but then he was back to his usual cocky self.

“Jealous? Nah. I’m just looking out for you. That guy?” He waved a hand dismissively, his tone shifting, suddenly colder. “Bad news. I’ve heard things. Guy’s got a rep, you know? Likes to go after girls in relationships, fucks with their heads. Can’t be trusted.”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to make sense of the way his jaw tightened, the way he was almost… defensive. “Really? You’re pulling rumors out of thin air now?”

“What do you want me to say?” he shot back, his voice dropping just enough to show how serious he was about this, even if he was still playing it off. “Guy’s trouble. You deserve better than him.”

You looked up at him, trying to figure out whether he was serious or just trying to play the whole thing off like it was no big deal. You almost asked more—almost pushed him for the truth, for that raw honesty he had a habit of keeping buried—but something in his expression stopped you. Maybe it was the heat in his gaze, or maybe it was the way he was holding you, like he wasn’t going to let you go.

And that was when it hit you—harder than the whiskey in your hand.

Nothing about this felt fake anymore. The line between what was real and what was pretend became more blurred than ever.

(***)

The silence was a war in itself.

Your heels clicked sharply against the tile. Rafe walked beside you, jaw tight, gaze straight ahead like he was trying not to feel. The tension had stretched thin during the reception, but now? Now it was choking the air.

He unlocked the door with a sharp flick of his wrist, stepping aside so you could enter first. You didn’t thank him. Didn’t even look at him. The second the door shut behind you, it felt like the whole room exhaled—except neither of you did.

You crossed your arms, pacing once near the foot of the bed—the one bed you’d barely acknowledged earlier, and finally spun on your heel to face him.

“You wanna explain what that was back there?” you asked, voice low but tight with heat. “Or are we still playing pretend?”

Rafe dragged a hand through his hair, frustration clear in the sharp scoff under his breath. “I already told you. He was a dick. I was protecting you.”

“Right. Protecting me from a guy telling me I looked nice?” You let out a bitter laugh. “God, you can’t even say it. You can’t admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That you’re jealous.”

Rafe let out a humorless laugh, scoffing as though he couldn’t believe you were even asking. “This again?”

“Yes, again!” you snapped, stepping closer. “Because you don’t get to act like that and then brush it off like it was all part of the plan. You looked like you were two seconds away from punching him, Rafe.”

He didn’t answer. His chest was rising and falling faster now, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“And if we’re just pretending—if this is all one big performance for your dad or whoever the hell—then what the fuck are we doing?” you asked, quieter now, but your voice wavered, betrayed by the weight of everything you’d been holding back. “Because it doesn’t feel pretend anymore.”

Silence.

Rafe’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He turned away, walked to the far end of the room like putting distance between you would help, but it didn’t.

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” he asked, voice rising with frustration, breath coming faster. “Huh?”

“The fucking truth!”

He spun back around, his voice rough and raw, like the words were being ripped from him. “I’m fucking in love with you, alright? Is that what you want to hear?”

The words hit like a punch to the ribs, knocking the air from your lungs.

Rafe’s chest heaved, and for a moment, he looked almost… defeated. Like saying it had taken the last of his resolve.

“Then why are we pretending?” you asked softly, voice cracking just enough to betray everything you’d kept hidden.

His eyes met yours, heavy with things unsaid.

“I don’t know,” he said, voice low, thick with frustration. “Because I was scared, okay? Because if I told you how I felt and you didn’t feel the same way, I’d lose you. And I can’t—I can’t lose you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a second, you couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Rafe stepped closer, slow but sure, like he was done holding back. Done pretending.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he said, his voice lower now, raw, broken open. “I’ve watched you date other people, laugh with other guys, and I’ve just stood there—like a fucking idiot—because I didn’t think I had the right. And now we’re here, playing this fucked-up version of what I’ve wanted for so long, and I can’t do it anymore. Not when I have to watch someone else touch you. Not when I finally get to hold you, and I know it’s still not real.”

Your heart slammed in your chest. The rush of blood, the pounding in your ears, the warmth rushing to your face, it was all too much.

You took a step forward, slow, tentative. “You think I haven’t felt it too?” you whispered, voice trembling now. “You think this hasn’t been driving me crazy? It has, Rafe. Every time you touch me, every time you look at me like that—I don’t know what’s real anymore either. I feel the same, why do you think I’m so worked up about this?”

Rafe’s breathing hitched, and for the first time, you saw his control crack. His hand reached up, brushing your arm gently, like he couldn’t believe he had the right to.

“But if we do this,” you said, barely above a whisper now, your voice fragile with the weight of it all, “it changes everything.”

His gaze was searching yours, hand sliding to cradle your jaw as if this was the only thing that made sense anymore.

“Good,” he said, his voice thick with certainty. “I want it to.”

In a second, his lips were on yours and you didn’t even get time to process it before you started to kiss him back, the kiss was deep, desperate, hungry. Years of longing accumulated, it felt as if the suite’s temperature had increased.

His mouth devoured yours, a hungry edge to every slant and slide of his lips, as if he were trying to consume every piece of you. Years of pent-up want poured out, unrestrained, his tongue tangling with yours in a dance of possession. His hands roamed your body with a frantic edge, fingers digging into the curve of your hips, sliding up the arch of your spine, desperate to map every inch of you. They found your hair, tangling in the strands, tugging your head back with a gentle but firm pull that exposed the tender column of your neck. His lips followed, hot and relentless, grazing the sensitive skin with a scrape of teeth that sent a shiver racing through you.

He guided you backward, his body pressing into yours, a wall of heat and muscle. Your legs hit the edge of the bed, and with a fluid, practiced motion, he eased you down onto the plush mattress, the silk sheets cool against your fevered skin. His body hovered over yours, a predatory grace in the way he held himself, his broad shoulders blocking out the dim light of the room. His eyes—those piercing blue eyes—burned with a hunger so fierce it bordered on worship, the pupils blown wide with need. He broke the kiss just long enough to lean in, his breath hot against your swollen lips as he rasped, “I need you. Right now. Tonight. Every fucking way I can have you. Please, baby, let me have you.”

His words hit you like a spark to dry tinder, igniting a pulse of molten heat that pooled low in your belly. Your core throbbed, your panties already clinging to your skin, soaked through with the evidence of your desire. You shifted against the sheets, trying to get comfortable, your voice trembling with want. “Oh-okay, okay.”

His hands, eager and trembling with barely contained restraint, reached for the zipper of the dress you’d chosen so carefully for him, the one you’d worn as his plus-one at the wedding. His fingers hooked the metal tab, dragging it down with agonizing slowness, the soft rasp of the zipper loud in the charged silence. The fabric parted, slithering off your shoulders like liquid, pooling around your waist in a cascade of silk and chiffon. He paused, his gaze raking over you, drinking in the sight of your bare skin, the soft swell of your breasts, the curve of your collarbone. His eyes darkened, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he took you in, like you were a masterpiece he’d waited years to unveil.

With a quick tug, he pulled the dress the rest of the way off, leaving you in nothing but a lacy bra and panties that were already embarrassingly drenched. His own clothes followed in a blur of motion—tie yanked free, shirt buttons popping as he tore it open, slacks shoved down with impatient hands. The fabric hit the floor in a careless heap, and he stood before you, gloriously bare, his cock hard and straining, the tip already glistening with precum.

He returned to you, his blue eyes black with want, his hands mapping your body with a reverence that bordered on obsession. His palms cupped your breasts through the thin lace of your bra, thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. His fingers slid lower, teasing the damp fabric of your panties, a low growl escaping him as he felt how wet you were. “Fuck,” he murmured, his voice rough, his breath hot against your neck. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

His lips found your neck again, kissing and sucking with a fervor that left faint, tingling marks in their wake. His hands moved to your bra, deftly unhooking it with a practiced flick, and the fabric fell away, baring your breasts to his hungry gaze. He froze for a heartbeat, his eyes locked on your nipples, stiff and begging for his touch. Then, with a low groan, he leaned in, his hands cupping the soft weight of your breasts, thumbs circling the sensitive peaks before his mouth descended. He drew one nipple between his lips, sucking hard, his tongue flicking and swirling in a way that made you arch off the bed, a moan spilling from your lips. The wet heat of his mouth, the sharp graze of his teeth, sent pleasure spiraling through you, your core clenching with need. He released the nipple with a slick pop, his voice a low purr against your skin. “So perfect, baby. So fucking good, just for me.”

He lavished the same attention on your other breast, his mouth relentless, kissing, sucking, biting, licking—everything he’d fantasized about since that first summer he saw you in a bikini, your curves barely contained by the fabric. He was lost in it, worshipping every inch of your soft, feminine flesh, his tongue tracing patterns that left you trembling. When he finally pulled back, his chest heaved, his lips swollen and red, his blue eyes blazing with a need so primal it stole your breath.

His hands slid down your ribcage, fingertips grazing the dip of your waist, the curve of your hips, before settling on the waistband of your soaked panties. “Now, baby,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, thick with lust, “I need these off. I need to taste you.”

You hesitated, your voice soft, almost shy. “Are you sure?” You wanted it—God, you wanted his mouth on you, his tongue buried in your pussy—but you could see the painful strain of his cock, the way it twitched with every beat of his heart, and you worried he was pushing himself too far.

His eyes locked onto yours, burning with a desire so raw it was almost tangible. “Fuck yes, I’m sure,” he growled, his voice strained, like he was holding himself together by a thread. In one swift motion, he hooked his fingers into your panties and yanked them down, the delicate lace tearing under the force. He tossed the ruined fabric aside, his gaze dropping to your bare, glistening pussy. The sight of you—swollen, slick, dripping for him—drew a ragged curse from his lips. “Christ, look at you,” he breathed, his voice thick with awe and hunger. “So fucking wet for me already.”

He lowered himself between your thighs, his broad shoulders spreading you open, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. His tongue darted out, licking a slow, indulgent line from your entrance to your clit, savoring the taste of you. He groaned, the sound vibrating against your core, and then he dove in, his tongue plunging deep, lapping at your folds with a hunger that bordered on feral. “Fuck me, you’re delicious,” he murmured, the words muffled against your skin.

Your moans were unstoppable, loud and wanton, as he devoured you, his lips closing around your clit and sucking with just the right pressure to make you writhe. He ate you out like a man starved, his tongue swirling, flicking, probing, every movement deliberate and precise. He’d wanted this for years, and it showed in the way he worshipped your pussy, relishing every drop of your arousal. One hand slid up your body, pinching and teasing your nipples, while the other gripped your inner thigh, keeping you spread wide for him. You squirmed, overwhelmed, your hips bucking against his face as the pleasure built, but he only pulled you closer, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass to anchor you to his mouth.

He could feel you getting close, the way your thighs trembled, the way your breaths came in sharp, desperate gasps. He doubled down, his tongue plunging deeper, his lips sucking harder, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight, relentless circles. Your body tensed, your back arching off the bed, and then you shattered, a cry tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you. Your walls clenched, your pussy pulsing as waves of pleasure ripped through you, and he lapped at you greedily, drinking in every bit of your release.

When your tremors finally subsided, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. He pressed a soft, reverent kiss to your inner thigh, his blue eyes dark with need as he looked up at you. His hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly to ease the ache, his voice rough as he asked, “You sure you want this, baby? Because if you say yes, I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

You were still catching your breath, your body humming with aftershocks, but you nodded, your voice soft but certain. “Yes. Yes, I want it.”

The moment the words left your lips, something in him snapped. He positioned himself between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging your slick entrance. His eyes locked onto yours, searching for any trace of doubt, but all he found was want—pure, unfiltered need. He bit his lower lip, a silent vow, and then he pressed forward, sinking into you inch by agonizing inch. The stretch was intense, your walls fluttering around him as he filled you, and he groaned, low and guttural, his hands gripping your hips to keep himself steady. “Fuck, baby, you feel incredible.”

He bottomed out, his hips flush against yours, and paused, letting you adjust to the fullness of him. His cock twitched inside you, hot and heavy, and you clenched around him, already oversensitive from your earlier orgasm. “Ready for me to move?” he asked, his voice strained, every muscle in his body taut with the effort of holding back.

You nodded, a soft whimper escaping you, and that was all he needed. With a low grunt, he started to move, his hips rocking in a deep, sensual rhythm that had you gasping. Each thrust was deliberate, the glide of his cock through your tight, wet heat driving him closer to the edge. His hands roamed, fingers digging into your hips, your thighs, your ass, as he fucked you with a mix of reverence and desperation. The headboard slammed against the wall, the sound mixing with the lewd slap of skin on skin, the creak of the mattress, your breathless moans.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue plunging deep, mimicking the rhythm of his thrusts. He tasted of you, of sweat and desire, and it sent another wave of heat through you. “Fu-fuck yes, right there,” you gasped when he shifted, hitting that perfect spot inside you, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core.

Rafe groaned, the sound vibrating against your skin as he nipped at your neck. “Yes, baby, just like that,” he panted, his voice rough with need. “You were made for me, weren’t you? Fuck yes, you’re mine.” He hooked one of your legs higher, draping it over his shoulder, the new angle letting him sink even deeper. The stretch was exquisite, bordering on too much, but you craved it, your nails raking down his back as you urged him on.

His thrusts grew more urgent, his hips snapping against yours with a frantic edge. The room was a symphony of sex: your moans, his grunts, the wet, rhythmic slap of his cock driving into you. To make sure you came again, he reached down, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight, relentless circles. The added stimulation was too much, your body already primed from your first orgasm, and you felt the pressure building again, fast and unstoppable.

“Rafe—fuck, I’m gonna—” you gasped, your walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper.

“That’s it, baby, come for me,” he growled, his thumb pressing harder, his thrusts relentless. Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, your body shaking, your pussy pulsing around his cock as you cried out, lost in the intensity. The sight of you falling apart, the feel of you milking him, pushed him over the edge. With a guttural curse, he buried himself deep, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside you, hot and thick, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

He collapsed onto you, his weight grounding you as you both fought to catch your breath. His cock softened inside you, his cum dripping out in a warm, sticky mess. He rolled to his side, pulling you close, his arm wrapping around you possessively. “That was… fuck,” he panted, still reeling, his voice hoarse. “I’ve never—fuck, it’s never been like that.”

He tilted your chin up, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, a stark contrast to the ferocity of moments before. “I know,” you murmured, sleepy and sated, your body heavy against his. “It was insane. So good.”

Rafe’s arms tightened around you, his nose brushing the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent, now mixed with the musk of sex. His heart still pounded, but there was a new steadiness to it, a quiet certainty. This wasn’t just lust, not just a release of years of tension. It was something more—something he wanted to hold onto, to build on. He wanted you, all of you, and he’d spend every day proving it if you’d let him.

For now, though, he was content to bask in the afterglow, to hold you close and savor the knowledge that you are his.

(***)

The Morning After

The light poured in slowly, golden, and soft. It crept across the villa’s hardwood floors and spilled over the tangled sheets, bathing the bed in warmth. One long curtain had slipped from its tie, fluttering gently with the breeze drifting through the cracked window. Somewhere in the distance, a bird called out. The rest of the world, for now, was quiet.

Rafe didn’t move.

He lay still, propped on one elbow, the sheet slung low on his hips, sunlight dappled across his bare chest. His other hand rested lightly on your waist, fingertips tracing slow, absent circles against your skin like he was trying to memorize you.

You were still asleep, face half-buried in the pillow, lashes soft against your cheeks, lips parted in the kind of sleep only people who felt safe ever got. He hadn’t meant to watch you like this. He really hadn’t. But something about you, lying beside him, real and his—it felt like a goddamn dream.

His gaze trailed down the line of your back, over the curve of your spine, the sheet barely hanging onto your hips. And yeah, sure, he could be a cocky bastard on most days—but this? This left him stunned.

He reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers slow, almost reverent. You stirred. Your brow scrunched slightly as your body shifted closer, instinctively chasing his warmth. Your leg slung over his, your arm draped across his stomach.

“Creep,” you mumbled into his chest, voice still thick with sleep. “You’re staring.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, brushing his nose against your temple. “Can you blame me?”

You cracked one eye open, catching him with a sleepy half-smile. “You’re just buttering me up so I’ll let you make me coffee later.”

“Coffee?” he scoffed, smirking. “I just gave you the best sex of your life, and I’m making you coffee?”

You smacked his chest with the back of your hand, laughing. “You’re such an ass.”

But before you could pull your hand back, he caught it—his fingers curling around yours, thumb brushing your knuckles. The smirk faded, just slightly, replaced by something softer. Something a little scared.

“Hey,” he said quietly, and you felt the shift in him instantly. “This wasn’t just a one-time thing, right? Last night… that was real to you?”

You met his eyes—blue and unguarded, the kind of vulnerable Rafe rarely showed. He didn’t ask for reassurance. He didn’t admit fear. But here he was, tangled in sheets and honesty, waiting.

You leaned in and kissed him—slow, certain—your hand resting over his heart.

“It was real,” you whispered. “It’s always been real.”

He exhaled—long, shaky—like he’d been holding that breath for years. Then he pulled you close, burying his face in your neck. Not like a guy who’d just gotten laid—like a man who’d finally come home.

By the time the two of you stepped out of the villa, the sun had climbed higher, casting sharp shadows across the stone path. You were freshly showered, hair damp and curling at the ends. Rafe’s shirt hung loose on you, sleeves rolled, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs. His hand was laced with yours, warm and steady.

You didn’t let go.

No more pretending. No more polished lines. Just you and Rafe, real, raw, unfiltered.

In the courtyard, laughter echoed from the breakfast table. The Kooks were half-drunk on mimosas, sunglasses crooked, music already playing from someone’s speaker.

And then there was Ward.

He stood off to the side, arms crossed, coffee mug in hand. His eyes scanned the two of you—specifically your joined hands. The way Rafe stood just a little closer than necessary, like distance was something he wasn’t willing to risk again.

You felt Rafe tense beside you, barely.

Ward didn’t say a word. Just raised one eyebrow, his gaze locking with Rafe’s a beat too long. Then he gave a single nod. Quiet. Reserved. His version of approval. Maybe even emotional growth. Rafe didn’t say anything either. But his grip on your hand tightened, and you swore you felt his thumb trace slow, steady circles against your skin.

Then he leaned in—lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice low enough that only you could hear.

“I’m all in.”

And somehow, you knew he meant it. Every messy, complicated, beautiful part of it. For once, nothing was fake. And everything was ahead of you.

[st8rkey]

ugh i could read this like ten times—giggling for reall!!! i love them

       you’d never had a whole week off before. rose had pressed the note into your hand that monday morning—short and stiff, typed on her monogrammed stationery: “y/n l/n, take the week. you’ve earned it. the estate will survive without you. (we hope.)”

you read it three times before blinking up at her. “you mean like.. all week? like seven days? like… no chores?”

she stared at you. sipped her coffee. “yes, seven whole days. go do whatever it is girls your age like you do.”

you gasped, “like pilates and journaling and maybe alphabetizing my nail polish?”

“yes...exactly that.. go away.”

so you did it; you made a color-coded schedule with glitter pens. tuesday was for deep-cleaning your closet and trying on all your swimsuits to see which ones still fit your tits right. wednesday was for cookie experiments. and thursday—thursday was yoga day.

you’d laid your mat out just as the sun came up, soft pink light kissing the dew off the hedges. you wore your tiniest spandex shorts—baby pink, obviously, barely covering the underside of your cheeks—and a workout bra that wasn’t really a bra so much as a small fabric of coverage. it tied in the back, thin like ribbon, your breasts held together more by sheer hope rather than support.

you were already halfway through your routine by the time rafe walked out.

you didn’t see him at first. you were in a downward dog, back arched, breathing steady, totally unaware that his bedroom window faced the front lawn. or that he’d woken up late, shirtless, grumpy, barefoot, and about to storm the kitchen for cereal—until he saw you.

you, on your mat, sun hitting your thighs, bent over with your spine stretched like a sleepy cat and in those little shorts that were definitely illegal in several states, bouncing on your toes between poses like you were doing it just for him.

his mouth went dry, as he desperately trying to grab his phone, snapping a picture on after another and zooming in on some.

“fuck.” he took another one, tilted his head, cursed under his breath when you dropped into child’s pose, ass high, arms stretched forward. rafe inhaled sharply through his teeth, padding outside without a sound. “what the fuck is this, pretty?”

you squeaked, nearly tipping off your mat. twisted around, face gleaming with sweat. “rafe! oh—oh my god, good morning! i didn’t think anyone would be up yet, you scared me!”

he was grinning, eyes locked on your ass. “you’re doing porn on the lawn now?”

you blinked, correcting him, “i’m doing yoga.”

“sure you are.” he stepped closer. your eyes darted to his bare chest, the cute sleepy crinkle of his hair. he hadn’t even put on real pants, just old sweats hanging low on his hips. God, he's gorgeous. your thighs squeezed together at the thought of him from last night, when he split you open on his dad's desk.

you cleared your throat. “it’s thursday. thursday’s yoga day.”

“riiight,” he said, gaze trailing down your body like a drip of warm syrup. “and what’s with the outfit, sweetheart? trying to kill the neighbors?”

you pouted, “i always wear this for yoga. it’s comfy. i get sweaty.”

“you’re giving the grass a hard-on.”

you giggled, “you want to join me?”

he blinked. “what?”

you tilted your head, sitting back on your heels, adjusting your top where it barely clung to your tits. “i said, do you wanna join me? you came all the way out here. unless you just wanted to say hi?”

his jaw flexed, you were being very earnest. no idea what you were doing or how hard he was under those sweats.

“sure,” he said, voice rough. “let’s do some yoga.”

you scoot over, give him half the mat, which doesn’t leave any room for personal space. your knee brushes his; your arm bumps his chest when you stretch sideways. every time you exhale, it’s comes out as little whimper, and every time he inhales, it’s just to smell you. your coconut shampoo, sugary scented lotion, sweat, and sunlight, fuck—he’s going to die.

you guide him through cat-cow. he growls on the exhale. “am i doing it wrong?”

“n-no, baby” you stammer, “you’re just…intense. that’s good though. yoga should be passionate. like..from the inside. that’s what my instructor used to say.”

you move into cobra pose, arching your back until your chest pushes forward. your head falls back with a soft moan of breath.

rafe watches, commits it to memory. you peek over, “you’re not stretching.”

he huffs. “i’m stretched.”

“you’ll pull a muscle, silly. here—”

you reach over, place both hands on his waist. pushing him gently.

“lower..breathe out. let it all go.” he groans, but not from pain. you were right behind him now, hands on his hips, pressing him into the stretch. your chest brushes his back. “does that feel better?”

“yeah,” he chokes.

you tilt your head, “you’re really warm.”

“so are you.”

you smile, drowsy and pleased. “that’s the sun for you. isn’t this nice?”

he turns his head, and your faces are inches apart.

“baby.”

“mm hm?”

“are you trying to kill me?”

you blink, shocked at the accusation, “what? no! i’m trying to help you find your center. we’re working on alignment—”

“alignment,” he repeats, licking his lip. “pretty, if i align any harder, someone’s calling the cops.”

you frown, then following his eyes down to his sweatpants. oh...you cover your mouth, a smiling forming.“oh my god.”

“yeah.”

“was it the child’s pose?”

“babe.”

“or the cobra?”

“it was everything.”

you squirm. “i'm sorry, i didn’t mean to—” he cuts you off by grabbing your wrist.

“stop,” he growls. “don’t apologize for looking like that. i want you to apologize for moaning!”

you squeak. “i was breathing!”

“you were whimpering.”

you blush, “i didn’t know you were watching or paying attention.”

he tugs you into his lap making your legs spread over his thighs. “i’m always watching you,” he says, almost purring. your breath stutters at the sexiness of his voice. his hand slides up your bare back. “you wanna stretch, baby? i’ll give you a good stretch.”

“r-rafe—” like before cuts you off by kissing you.

“fuck yoga,” he breathes. “you and me need a different kind of session.”

❤︎ tags below

@rafesbabygirlx @namelesslosers @drewsephrry @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @rafedaddy01 @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lil-sparklqueen @rafessweetgirl @esquivelbianca @p45510n4f4shi0n @palomavz @cokewithcameron @donaldsonsgirl @yncoded @lilbunnysfics @solaceluna @icaqttt @alphabetically-deranged @bevstofu @wintercrows @emluvsuxo @rafestoothbrush @cadhlabear @st8rkey

[st8rkey]

oh—you’re so sweet for tagging me!! tysm <33 🤍

fav color: pink and purple

currently reading: lucky by marissa stapley

last song: grave by tate mcrae

laat movie: the menu

last series: you

sweet, savory or salty: oh sweet for sure!

craving: sleeping, really

tea or coffee: i don’t drink either of them 🤗🤗 i’ve never had coffee before, so i guess tea

currently working on: a mechanic!rafe one shot

no pressure tags: @bambiangels @nemesyaaa @darlingstarkey @dollyfiles

9 people i’d like to get to know better!

thank you for tagging me!!🫶🏻 @fluentmoviequoter

fav color: light blue

currently reading: i’m currently not reading anything

last song: waitin’ on a woman- brad paisley

last movie: star wars: revenge of the sith

last series: 9-1-1

sweet, savory, or salty: salty

craving: carne asada tacos

tea or coffee: coffee

currently working on: some of my fics and putting together my birthday celebration post

no pressure tags!! @sebsxphia @otissbluebearshirt @lovinglyeternal @startrekfangirl2233 @arcane-vagabond @dracculaura @drewsephrry @fiction-is-life @fairyheart

[st8rkey]

♡ frat!rafe’s first time being restrained..

warnings: unprotected sex, bondage, slight sub!rafe (?), crying, overstimulation, praise, body worship, cockwarming

rafe couldn’t believe you had successfully convinced him into letting you tie him up, the lace material of your panties digging into his wrists as he struggled to move his hands away from his headboard. “..so you’re like, really into this?” you kneeled between his legs, your nails gently skimming up his thighs as you smiled softly at him. “mhmm, and i think you will be too after we’re done.” rafe’s eyes scanned down your bare figure, his cock straining against his stomach as you continued your light ministrations. you were barely touching him and he had already found himself aching for more.

forgetting that he couldn’t just reach out and have you tangible in his hands, rafe cursed under his breath once you straddled him, your slick folds sitting prettily on either sides of his length. “what the fuckkk,” he shuddered, craning his neck as he stared down at the sight, “please, i need to touch you.” he begged, pulling at the lace keeping him bound in place. shaking your head, you shushed him as you very slowly moved your hips over his cock, his mouth falling open in a silent moan before his eyes rolled back at the sensation. “that’s too bad..” you taunted, “you should know by now that you can’t always have your way.”

rafe gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching as he groaned. he wasn’t used to this kind of treatment at all. with him being the head of his fraternity, it wasn’t lost on him when girls pretty much put out for him whenever he wanted. this, however, was unlike anything he had ever experienced. “i’m sure you’ve never really had to earn your way into someone, have you?” feeling how warm and wet you were made his brain go numb, the only thing he could spare at the moment being a weak “n-no.”— running a palm over the ridges of his abs, you hummed sweetly. “well, i can see why; you’re almost irresistible.”

rafe’s skin was hot to the touch, his cerulean eyes barely opening as he gazed up at you like you weren’t real. “such a nice body, it looks like you work so hard for it,” you praised him, leaning down so your lips barely ghosted over his own, “and this face.. is this how you look right before you’re going to cum?” rafe’s chest was rising and falling with each breath he took, his hips bucking instinctively as you picked up your pace. “oh, god— f-fuck me,” rafe gasped, “fuck me, baby, i’m so close.” you could tell by the way he couldn’t be still that he was going to make a mess soon, his eyes watering as you picked up your pace.

covering his mouth, you watched as tears started rolling down his cheeks, his biceps practically bulging out of his flesh as his moans came out muffled against your palm. lifting your hips, you lined him up with your entrance, the man underneath you waiting with a bated breath as you sunk down on him. whimpering at the stretch, you moved your hand away from rafe’s mouth as he took his bottom lip between his teeth. if he thought he was close to cumming before, he was really in for it now that you were finally wrapped around him. rafe blinked, feeling utterly helpless as you bounced on top of him.

“don’t stop,” his voice came out in a shaky cry, “holy shit, i’m gonna fill you up.” deciding to untie your panties from his wrists, rafe didn’t waste any time as he pulled you against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist as he thrusted into you from below. you gasped at the force of his thrusts, your eyebrows knitting together as he whimpered inside your ear. burying his face into the curve of your neck, he licked and suckled at your skin before blowing his load, your needy pussy milking him for all that he had. rafe held you in place, his cock twitching as he emptied himself inside your cunt.

trailing the tip of his nose from the underside of your jaw to your mouth, rafe kissed you tenderly before you laid your head against his chest. you two stayed like this for a few minutes, rafe still buried between your folds as he pulled the covers over both of you. “i think you converted me.” he sighed in defeat, already thinking about round two.

thank you for celebrating with me ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[st8rkey]

this made me giggle because fuck this is cute

single!dad!rafe asking sweetheart!reader out

sweetheart!reader mlist

cw: none, pure fluff

it was a slow sunday morning at rosie’s, the kind that wrapped around the small town like a warm blanket. the old jukebox in the corner hummed a slow, dreamy tune from the ’50s, barely louder than the gentle clink of silverware or the low murmur of sleepy regulars.

you were already gliding toward rafe and lizzie with two plates balanced effortlessly in your hands—their usuals. you didn’t even need a notepad anymore. before lizzie had even swung her tiny legs up into the booth, you set down a vanilla milkshake with extra whipped cream and sprinkles in front of the four-year old. right next to you, rafe took a seat with a quiet, grateful smile.

“your strawberry pancakes, extra syrup on the side, no fruit touching the whipped cream, just how you like it, my lady,” you said, sliding the plate in front of lizzie. “and for you…” you placed a plate in front of rafe, “two eggs, over medium, toast a little too crispy, and bacon that’s—what did you say last time? ‘aggressively fried’?”

lizzie beamed. “thank you, miss sweetheart!” and rafe chuckled softly, “that’s the one,” the cup of black coffee already warm in his palm. you knew how he liked it—dark, strong, and a little too hot to sip right away. “you really are somethin’ else.” you gave him a wink in response, your heart doing that flutter it always did when he looked at you that way.

but something was different today. you saw it in the way his shoulders slumped a little more than usual. in how his fingers tapped the side of his coffee mug, like there was something heavy pressing on him. his smile was there, but it felt… restrained. pulled tight at the edges.

still, you didn’t press. that wasn’t your way. but you lingered just a second longer, your fingers touching the edge of his plate gently before moving on, letting him have his space.

behind the counter, you busied yourself with the usual: refilling the sugar jars, reorganizing the straw holder even though it didn’t need it, pretending you weren’t watching him out of the corner of your eye. your heart, though—well, that had other plans.

it always beat a little different when rafe was in the room. there was something about him. the way he looked at his daughter like she was his entire world. the way he always said “thank you” like it mattered. he made the space around him feel grounded, even on the days when the world felt too loud.

and yet today, he looked… worn out. like he’d had a thousand moments lately where he had to be strong and couldn’t afford to fall apart.

you knew that look. too well.

but that’s when you felt a tiny tug on the edge of your apron. you glanced down and found lizzie, standing beside you, eyes wide with mischief and the kind of innocent confidence only a four-year-old could get away with. “hi,” the girl said cheerfully.

you crouched down slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “hey there, sugar. what you sneakin’ up on me for?”

lizzie peeked over her shoulder toward her dad, before leaning in like she was about to share national secrets. then, in the loudest whisper imaginable, she blurted:

“umm..will you go on a date with my daddy?” you blinked. frozen. “what?” you laughed, heat blooming instantly in your cheeks.

lizzie giggled, arms swinging slightly like this was no big deal. “he really wants to. he said it lots’ at home. like, a lot a lot. i think daddy is shy. he practiced with our cat last night.”

sweetheart nearly choked on a laugh. “does he now?” lizzie nodded solemnly. “but peaches didn’t say yes. just walked away. i think miss sweetheart would say yes though. you like daddy, right?”

your heart twisted—not in a bad way, but in that aching, tender way that always surprised you. you looked over at the booth, where rafe sat, oblivious, gently wiping a bit of grease from the corner of his mouth. he looked tired. but he looked so full of love, too. watching rafe, you realized something had quietly taken root in your chest—a yearning for something safe. something real.

you placed a hand on your heart. “i do think your daddy is quiet the jaw-dropper.” lizzie just beamed at you with the cutest smile ever, “mhm! he’s the best. he makes the best spaghetti. and he smells nice when he hugs me.” you couldn’t help but giggle at how innocent she was. “well,” you said, crouching a little more to meet lizzie at eye level. “wanna help me play a little prank on him?”

the girls’ eyes lit up like christmas morning. “yesss!”

“okay,” you whispered, reaching for a clean napkin and a pink crayon from the counter cup. “i’m gonna write him a tiny note. your job is to bring it to him, slide it onto the table, and act normal. no smiling. no giggling. can you do that?”

lizzie nodded with the most serious face she could manage. “good girl,” you smiled, and then quickly scribbled on the napkin in your neat, loopy handwriting:

“your daughter just sealed the deal for you, rafe. thank her for the push—and tell her i’d love to go on a date with her daddy.”

and just below it, you pressed your lips to the corner—your signature red color leaving a perfect kiss mark like a seal of approval. you folded the napkin carefully and handed it to lizzie. “go on, secret agent. don’t blow our cover.”

lizzie nodded, clutching the note like it was the key to the universe, and skipped back to the booth with the kind of exaggerated “calm” walk that made you smile against your knuckles. you watched from behind the counter, hiding behind the coffee machine just enough to see but not be seen just yet.

rafe looked down as his daughter slid the folded napkin across the table with a simple “this is from miss sweetheart.” then she picked up her fork and resumed eating like nothing had happened.

curious, rafe unfolded the napkin. his brows furrowed first, then his eyes swept over the words slowly—twice, then a third time. his lips parted slightly in disbelief, thumb hovering over the kiss mark like he couldn’t quite believe it was real. then he looked up. you gave him a playful wink from across the room and mouthed, ‘took you long enough’.

rafe let out the softest, stunned laugh and shook his head, running a hand through his hair. his smile was slow, wide, and warm enough to melt every last cube of sugar on the counter. he glanced at lizzie, who was just happily munching her pancake as if she hadn’t just changed the course of his life.

with that, rafe finally exhaled all the nerves he’d been carrying around for weeks. he looked over at you again, heart full and eyes shining, and said the words he’d been practicing—though this time, not to the cat.

“dinner this friday?”

you leaned on the counter, your smile soft and bright. “i thought you’d never ask.” and just like that, with pancakes half-eaten and pink crayon hearts drawn on napkins, something beautiful began—messy and sweet and full of heart.

tags: @inbred-eater @dearapril @rafecami @isasweetie @beausling @rafesheaven @rafesbowbunny @rafesangelita @drewsephrry @rafessecret @littlelamy @sturn777 @bradshawed @cherrygirlfriend @trusweethrt @inspiredangel @whinyangel @et6rnalsun @luckycrys @bluemerakis @rafeysbangs @f4dedtouch @nemesyaaa @bruisedfig @tinythebunni @rcsbabydoll @rafestoothbrush

[st8rkey]

not tumblr crashing, fuck off 💔💔💔

[st8rkey]

riding him with the skirt on pls save me.. and not even that—just him picking her up with ease and flipping her over his shoulder. 😩😩 #needthat

“Atta girl—” Crack. He slapped your ass.

yeah don’t even talk to me, i’d let this man do anything to me

—

Rafe just lay back, watching you like a man starving, sipping from the liquor bottle. He handed it to you, expecting a drink—but instead, you hovered over him, spit it into his mouth.

i was already thinking him drinking from the bottle is hot, but spitting into his mouth?? fuck me 🥰

—

Rafe reached up and adjusted the hat on your head, tugging it just a little lower, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Keep this on, too,” he said proudly as his finger trailed down your jaw. “In case anyone forgets who the fuck you belong to.”

i’m going weak in the knees, this is even better than i imagined it.

ugh ily! you never disappoint. thank you so much for making this 💞

me when reading this

ugh, saw the post about your inbox opening and i RAN!!

frat!rafe x reader (anywhere, doesn’t matter—backseat of a car, dorm room, or at a party) fucking, and he’s wearing a baseball hat backwards. while reader is riding him, he pulls it off and puts it on her head—also backwards.

ily, thank you if you do this one 💋💋

Awww that made me so happy 💕 thank you for your ask bb!!!!

+18 -> smut

𝓯𝓻𝓪𝓽!𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

c/w: possessive!rafe, ownership kink, pet names, swearing, unprotected p in v, spanking, drinking.

2K

The music was loud, blaring through shitty speakers that had blown the night before. A full crowd of hot, sweaty bodies—but none of it mattered, because all Rafe could see was you.

You were on the table now, in the center of the chaos, wrapped up in your friends and the haze of cheap liquor and that last-weekend energy. Your little top barely clung to your body, and that mini skirt did nothing to hide the curve of your ass every time you swirled your hips.

And those panties—fuck, they were the icing on top. Pretty, pink, and purchased by Rafe. Every time your hips swayed, he caught a flash, making it nearly impossible to stay where he was.

He stood across the room, half a drink in hand, pretending to listen to Topper, all while his eyes never left you. Your tits bounced just enough to drive him insane, feeding flashbacks from the night before. And he knew you knew. You weren’t a stranger to the chokehold you had him in.

Then you leaned down—slow, deliberate—pouring liquor into your friend’s mouth, grinning as you did. Your back arched just a little and that skirt hiked up even more, leaving Rafe a muttering mess of ‘fuck me’s’ and ‘keep that shit up and see what happens’ under his breath.

Cue JJ, swaggering up to the table like clockwork, shooting his shot for the nth time, like anything had changed. But who could blame him—you were perfect.

Maybank tilted his head and gave you that smug little smile like you were even an option. Like Rafe wasn’t watching every second of it.

You took a sip straight from the bottle, some dark liquor dribbling off your bottom lip and down your chest. JJ licked his lips like a fucking idiot, and that was it. Rafe was already moving. Shoving through the crowd with purpose. Shouting before he’d even grabbed two fists of the blonde’s shirt.

“You always stare at girls way outta your league, or just when they’re mine, huh?”

“Calm down, Cameron. I was just—”

“Just what?” Rafe’s smile was all teeth, blue eyes hard and daring. “She wouldn’t fuck you in your dreams. Stop embarrassing yourself—” He shoved him hard, making JJ stumble into a group of friends. And before he could say another word, Rafe was lifting you off the table—an arm around your thighs, flipping you over his shoulder.

You squealed, laughing, as he snagged the liquor bottle off the table, your body draped like a trophy.

“Have a nice night, boys,” he said with that wicked grin. JJ rolled his eyes, downing the rest of his drink as Rafe disappeared toward the stairs.

The crowd parted without realizing, making way. His grip adjusted as he climbed, one hand sliding up the back of your thigh before dipping to bite the soft skin beneath your ass cheek—playful, but sharp enough to make you gasp.

“Rafe!”

“Sorry, baby,” he said, not sorry at all. “Can’t help myself. You looked too damn good up there. You know that?” His voice went soft, just for you.

Then—gentle—he tugged your skirt down just enough to cover your panties. That quiet, casual kind of care that made your stomach flutter. A possessiveness he saved only for you.

Rafe kicked open the door to his room, the slam muffling the chaos outside. He crossed to the bed and dropped you like a ragdoll, grinning when your curves bounced and your back arched in that pretty little way he loved.

His shirt was gone in a second, ripped over his head as his abs flexed. His boxers rode low, and he tugged his hat back on.

You sat up on your knees, pulling your top off. The second your tits bounced free, Rafe tackled you to the mattress, laughing into your neck as your giggles echoed off the walls.

He rolled you onto his lap, your thighs spread over his hard cock. His hands gripped your hips. You reached back for the zipper on your skirt, but he shook his head.

“Leave it,” he muttered, head tilted as he admired the lace peeking beneath the hem. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

He tugged his boxers down, never breaking eye contact. His jaw clenched tight like he was barely keeping it together.

With that hungry, hooded look, he reached between your thighs, tugging your panties gently aside—just enough to see what he wanted. Then his hand snapped back to your waist, rough and fast, the other wrapping around his cock, thick and leaking.

“Pull ‘em, princess,” he groaned. You obeyed, fingers pinching the fabric to the side, showing him your glistening slit.

And then you sank down slowly, both of you moaning aloud, your shared pleasure filling the room. Your head fell back as he filled you to the hilt, his eyes fluttering shut, jaw slack.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned.

You braced your hands on his chest as his gripped your hips, guiding you. He watched you ride him slow, matching the beat of the music creeping under the floorboards.

“Atta girl—” Crack. He slapped your ass. You moved faster, filthier. The sound of your arousal and skin-on-skin collided with your moans. You grinded on him, used him.

Rafe just lay back, watching you like a man starving, sipping from the liquor bottle. He handed it to you, expecting a drink—but instead, you hovered over him, spit it into his mouth.

He swallowed it down with a low laugh, then grabbed your neck and kissed you hard, one hand moving his hat to the back. He devoured you. Sweet liquor and tongue, sucking on yours slow.

“You look like every guy’s fantasy,” he whispered. “But you’re mine. You hear me?” He kissed you again, rougher. “They want you. None of them get you… but me.”

“Only you, Rafe.”

He groaned. You pushed up and started riding him again.

“Fuck, baby—Mpfhh.” He gritted his teeth, hips bucking as you clenched around him. You bounced, moaned his name, and he gave it right back—breathless praise spilling between gasps.

He was close. So were you. Your thighs trembled. And then he lifted you off fast, flipping you to reverse, dropping you back down on his thick length.

You screamed at the stretch, thighs spread wide. That skirt bunched up in his fist. “You good, pretty?” he panted. You whimpered, nodding.

He slapped your ass again, squeezing, jiggling, loving the mess you made. Then he started bouncing you, driving into you from below, cock spearing deep, wet, loud.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “Do that shit I like.” You swiveled your hips just the way he liked. That pressure built. That sweet spot hit again and again. Your stomach coiled.

Rafe sat up behind you, chest flush to your back. One arm wrapped tight around you. The other slid between your thighs, rubbing fast, tight circles on your clit.

“Told you you were perfect,” he growled in your ear. “Perfect girl. Perfect body. Perfect pussy. Make a mess. Show me who you fucking belong to.” You whimpered, grinding against him. “So good for me. You hear me?”

“Yes,” you choked. “I—I… Fuck—”

“Yeah, baby?” he rasped, voice cocky and raw. “Why don’t you just cum for me then, huh?”

Your body locked up, a cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm hit. You shook and gasped as he fucked up into you, rubbing you through every flutter and spasm.

Rafe buried his face in your shoulder, hips twitching as he came, filling you full. You collapsed back onto him, both of you shaking, breathless.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, laughing, warm breath fanning your neck. You turned your cheek to snuggle closer, and his arms tightened around you.

He eased you off him, both of you hissing at the loss. You jolted, making him laugh softly as he snapped your panties back into place, his hand pressed possessively over your pussy.

“There,” he murmured, voice low and hoarse. “Keep those on.” Rafe pressed a kiss to your neck, then another, his lips brushing the curve of your cheek. He sighs, still catching his breath as the both of you come down from your highs.

Rafe reached up and adjusted the hat on your head, tugging it just a little lower, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Keep this on, too,” he said proudly as his finger trailed down your jaw. “In case anyone forgets who the fuck you belong to.”

banners: @cafekitsune

tags | @rafesthroatbaby | @hughessweetheart | @slut-4-rafey | @blair-bears-blog | @iikximii | @akobx | @gri959 | @misatxox | @ch4rrykisses | @st8rkey | @laniirackssss | @barnesboo1967 | @justdamnpeachy | @dylsdaily | @rafesapprentice | @angellocket | @my-name-is-baby | @wtfisastiles | @skye-44 @romaescapes | @anothershorthuman | @rafeslovergirly | @vanessa-rafesgirl | @v3n1ce-bxtch | @maybankslover | @theater-bitch | @frankoceanluvr11 | @rcameronlova1 | @lhhlver | @yourmomdotcom42069 | @cameronsprincess | @kdoll-7 | @angelicameron | @imsiriuslyreal | @alphabetically-deranged | @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account | @hyperfixationgirl | @faephoria | @wtfdudesblog | @rafesdoll | @yasmin-oviedo | @lizzysmith110 | @ietss | @livie4lifestarkeyblyth | @lilithblackkk | @premiumshitt | @littlelamy | @dulcescorderitas | @prettybabyyyy | @star017 | @hannieskzzz | @biascriptum

[st8rkey]

𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

— a rafe cameron one shot (1 of 2) part one • part two

✰ rafe and barry were on their way back from handling business when they come across someone stuck on the side of the road — that someone being the richest kook in town’s daughter, y/n.

rating: sfw — cw: very suggestive/graphic language

“i don’t give a fuck what he said,” barry grumbled as he leaned back in his seat, “he’s payin’ by tonight or we’re bustin’ his fuckin’ head in, alright?” rafe nodded dismissively, unaffected by the graphic comment as his blue eyes were lazily focused on the road before them, a singular hand resting on the wheel as he steered the old truck. the following moments were silent, only filled with the soft hum of the engine and low buzz from the radio before something — or someone — caught rafe’s eye.

“oh, shit,” he whispered to himself, gradually lifting his foot from the gas as he peered out the dirty window. barry perked up at his utterance and followed his gaze, his eyes landing on a girl in the near distance sat perched on the curb, a hand in her hair as she held a phone to her ear. beside her was a pearly pink bronco, slightly tilted forward on it’s front, right side — flat tire.

“who the fuck is that? you know ‘er?” barry wondered aloud, his dark eyes flickering between rafe and the girl outside. “nah… i mean, yeah, kinda… that’s—uh, she’s grant mason’s daughter,” rafe mumbled, feeling sudden waves of internal conflict wash over him.

he’d seen her insanely expensive car before, perched in the long winding driveway of the mason’s mansion whenever he’d drive past — it was unmistakably of mason property. he’d also seen her face before on a company advert pamphlet in his fathers office: her mother, father, sister, dog and her — a perfect family.

“mason?” barry began with rafe quickly answering his unspoken question, “yeah, mason manufacturing.” barry laughed, a small smile pulling at his lips leaving his his shiny silver tooth on full display, “aw shit, lil’ kook princess done fucked up her ride.”

rafe bit the inside of his lip in a moment of contemplation, unsure of whether he should slam on the gas or the break. a beat passed as the cogs in his brain began to turn before he let out a defeated sigh, abruptly twisting the wheel and averting the truck onto the opposite side of the road.

“aye, fuck're y'doin’? you’re not about to go play bob the fuckin’ builder, are you?” barry gripped, sitting up in his seat with thick, furrowed brows. “relax,” rafe reasoned in annoyance, “i know what i’m doin’.”

and that, he did — rafe wasn’t one to do favors for people, especially for someone he doesn’t know, but this time was different. he’s learned over time to always keep your friends close and your potential assets closer; the daughter of the grant mason was simply a door he needed opened to fully set foot inside — to give himself and his father an upper hand.

barry scoffed and leaned back in his seat once more, resting an elbow on the passenger door before resting his forehead in his hand. “right — know what y’doin’ like y’always do,” barry muttered dismissively, “jus’ make it quick.”

“could go faster if you helped, y’know,” rafe murmured sarcastically, causing barry to let out an even more sarcastic laugh, saying, “yeah, ain’t shit in that for me, country club — you got it.”

and with that, rafe begrudgingly exited the truck with a light slam of the door, preparing himself to feign the fakest, most well-rounded persona he possibly could in order to make, what would hopefully be, a lasting impression.

the girl on the curb’s head perked up at the sudden noise, her eyes slightly widening at the stranger rapidly approaching. rafe noticed, forcing a smile across his face before speaking. “hey! you alright?” he asked as ‘warmly’ as he could, jogging across the road before stopping a mere few feet away.

“uh, hi — yeah, i’m good, i just— i got a flat,” she explained bashfully with a smile, gesturing to the leaning bronco. it was immediately evident to him that photos simply didn’t do her justice, the sight of her alone unexpectedly making his stomach do a flip, taking him by surprise.

“ah, that sucks,” rafe forcefully sympathized, “y’got a spare, right? i could change it for you.” her face lit up at the proposition, and she quickly mutter a few words into the phone before hanging up and shoving it in her pocket, quickly standing and dusting off the back of her denim shorts.

“would you really?” she beamed, her hopeful eyes glistening as she gazed at him. rafe nodded, his blue ones scanning over her face as he felt a weird stitch of something in his chest. “yeah, it’s no problem — i’ve got some tools in my truck,” he assured, motioning behind him.

“thank you so much,” she breathed out in relief, abruptly holding out a small, manicured hand in his direction, “i’m y/n.” rafe was taken aback by the sudden gesture, reluctantly encasing her palm with his own — her’s was soft, undoubtably the softest he’s ever felt.

“rafe…” he reciprocated before remembering the entire purpose of this interaction, “cameron — rafe cameron.” her brows furrowed, the name tumbling through her mind before realizing it was rather familiar.

“like, cameron development?” she wondered aloud, her hand still absentmindedly resting in his, though rafe was all too aware of it. “uh—yeah, yeah, m’ward cameron’s son,” he muttered, feeling almost awkward at the prolonged contact.

“no way! i’m grant mason’s daughter — our dad’s are friends!” she gasped, and rafe almost scoffed bitterly at the loose, frankly false, title — friends? sure.

“really? small island,” rafe forcibly laughed, internally puking at the sound of his own voice and the cliches he was spewing, and y/n replied with a sweet, “yeah!”

“hey, so, i’mma go get some stuff from my truck so we can get you back on the road, yeah?” he offered, pulling his hand from hers and pointing a thumb behind him. “yeah, okay, thank you again,” she called out as he spun on his heels before briskly crossing the road.

“yo, you trynna hit that or what? what’s with all that chummy shit?” barry snickered as rafe approached the truck, having overheard the entire conversation. “shut up,” rafe groaned, completely unamused as he reached into the bed, fishing around before retrieving a rusty jack and lug wrench in either hand.

“can’t lie, she kinda fine,” barry projected, ensuring rafe could hear him from outside. “she can probably hear you,” the taller man muttered in annoyance. “shit, let her,” barry exclaimed carelessly, “if you don’t tap that, i will.”

“look, can you just—just chill out for like ten minutes? i’m changin’ her fuckin’ tire then we’re goin’, alright?” rafe snapped in agitation, now standing by the car door and of course, the other man only found it comical. “alright — whatever you say, babyboy,” barry mused, feigning surrender with a sly grin before rafe trudged his way back across the road.

“hi,” y/n grinned, her arms crossed lightly over her chest as she ceased absentmindedly twisting her shoe in the dirt. “hey,” rafe reciprocated, tossing the jack onto the concrete with a loud clank, “i’ll get the tire.” y/n nodded, watching as he took the wrench to the back of the car and began twisting at the lugnuts before casually joining him there.

“so, how long have you guys lived here?” she questioned sweetly as she leaned against the bumper, attempting to make conversation as if he wasn’t preoccupied. rafe peered down at her out the corner of his eye, a twinge of annoyance sparking in his chest that was somehow extinguished when he noticed the small smile on her lips as she gazed at him expectantly.

“uh, m’whole life,” he grunted as he twisted at a rather difficult fastener, “you? never seen you ’round before.”

“i’ve only been here a a couple months, actually — we move alot for dad’s work so we’re never really in once place for long,” she explained, distant sadness evident in her tone. “yeah? you likin’ it so far?” rafe asked as he pulled the tire down with ease, finding himself to actually be somewhat interested in the answer.

“uhm—yeah, yeah, it’s nice. i mean, m’always going back home to visit and haven’t been anywhere on the island besides the elementary school,” she explained. “s’that where you were headed?” rafe wondered as he rolled the heavy wheel towards the front of the car, y/n following close behind.

“yeah, i was going to get my sister before the tire busted — was calling the school to let them know i’d be, like, really late,” she sighed. “your dad couldn’t get her?” rafe questioned, admittedly asking a question that may have been a little intrusive. "i— uh, no,” she laughed awkwardly, tucking a loose strand behind her ear as he began to crank the jack, “he’s always so busy.”

“and your mom?” rafe breathed out as he stood to his feet, dusting his hands on his pants before wiping the sweat from his forehead. y/n couldn’t help but shamelessly ogle at his biceps as they flexed with each movement, her eyes flickering up and down the length of his tanned arms in awe.

“she’s— uh, she’s pretty busy, too,” y/n shrugged, her small smile faltering — this piqued rafe’s interest. “yeah? what does she do?” he asked casually, playing off his prying as casual conversation as he began to remove the damaged wheel from the car.

“she used to be an accountant,” y/n murmured, staring off into space down the road, watching as a car drove by. “used to?” rafe chimed in, rolling the busted tire into the grass before beginning to mount the new one.

“yeah, before my sister was born,” she affirmed.

“what’s she doin’ now?”

“she’s retired,” y/n muttered, causing rafe to furrow his brows to himself — retired mother who’s somehow too busy to pick her kid up from school?

“she-uh… she drinks sometimes,” y/n answered quickly, having noticed the expression on his face, “she’s usually too hungover in the mornings to drive… and afternoons.”

hardly a moment passed as rafe was processing her words while simultaneously fastening on lug-nuts before she spoke up again. “i— i’m sorry,” she laughed nervously, squeezing her eyes shut as she mentally kicked herself, “i’m absolutely oversharing.”

“no,” rafe promised casually with a shrug, fastening the last bolt in it’s place, “i asked.” it was a simple statement, though it sent a wave of warmth throughout her chest, the simplicity of reassurance being comforting and seldom.

“what about you?” she asked as he began to lower the car back to the ground, the new tire now in place. “what about me?” rafe rebutted, standing to his feet once more with a huff, the beaming sun beginning to take a toll.

“i— i just mean… what’s your family like?”

“uhh, well, my dad runs a business, and-uh, got a step-mom ‘n two sisters,” rafe explained, though he was never fond of talking about himself or his family.

suddenly, a loud honk sounded out from across the street, causing them both to turn their heads towards the source. “aye, country club, let’s go!” barry called out, rafe’s good deed of the year being noticeably completed and his patience having worn thin.

“whose that?” y/n wondered, a small smile pulling at her lips when rafe sighed in annoyance and ran a hand down his face. “he’s my-uh… friend,” rafe answered, though truthfully, he’s wasn’t sure he’d call him that.

“i think your friend is ready to leave,” she laughed lightly, rafe nodding in agreement as his eyes then found their way to hers, suddenly finding themselves stuck there. she didn’t notice until then just how blue his eyes were, nor did he notice how big and doe-like her’s were. seconds passed that felt like minutes, neither of them in any position to break the eye contact for a reason they couldn’t explain.

inevitably, the horn was honked again and jolted them both from the stalemate, causing rafe to cough before scratching his neck. “uh, so, i’m gonna get going,” he announced, grabbing his tools from their places on the curb, “tire’s all good ‘n i can get rid of the old one if y’want.”

“thank you, rafe — seriously, it means so much,” y/n sighed out, eyes glistening with gratitude and rafe’s stomach did that same, stupid little flip as before when she said his name and he wanted it to fucking stop.

“yeah, no worries,” rafe grinned, though he tried to hide it, actually feeling somewhat good about himself, “you should-uh… probably head out, too, yeah?”

“shit, yeah,” y/n swore, quickly pulling her phone from her pocket and checking the time, “hey, so-uh, my dad’s having a little business dinner type-thing next weekend — food ‘n music and all that if you, maybe, wanted to come?”

rafe froze at the mention as he recalled a conversation with his father from not too long ago. they had spoke about that very event, rafe wanting to accompany his father in order to learn more about the mason’s business, though his wish was denied due to ward only being allowed to bring one guest — his choice being his wife, rose.

“i’m— i’m sorry, you don’t have to, i just figured as like a ‘thank you’ i’d—,” y/n rambled, feeling as though rafe’s lack of response and blank stare was an answer within itself, but he quickly interrupted.

“nah, nah, i’ll—,” he paused, blue eyes flickering across her now hopeful face, his heart doing a little skip at the sight, “yeah, i’ll be there.”

“awesome, yeah, here — put your number in, i’ll text you the details,” she smiled, handing her phone over to who rafe dropped his tools to the ground before accepting it. their hands grazed one another for a moment, somehow feeling different from the first time they touched.

he obliged, quickly typing in the digits and saving the contact before handing it back. “cool, so, i’ll see you then?” she smiled, watching at rafe gathered the tools from the ground once more. “yeah,” rafe nodded, quickly swiping his tongue over his lips before a soft smirk overtook them, “unless i find you on the curb with another flat before then.”

“with my luck,” she laughed, and rafe couldn’t help but let out a soft, genuine, chuckle. “thank you again,” she continued, her tone sincere, and rafe could tell just how genuine it was, giving her a small nod in return, “i’ll see you.”

and with that, she climbed her way into the ridiculously large car, giving rafe one last glance with a smile before disappearing down the corner and around the bend. rafe finished loading everything back into the truck, including the flat wheel that he planned on abandoning in some unfortunate pogues yard, before rejoining barry inside.

“the fuck’re you so happy about?” barry mumbled, loathing the fact that after waiting in a hot truck for ages, rafe comes waltzing in with a grin.

“told’ya i know what i’m doin’.”

 personapeters 2025 — all rights reserved • masterlist

[st8rkey]

hi!! what do you use for your text posts???

hii!! i use messages on my phone to text my own number <33 it always copies the messages back, so i just delete the ones i don’t need (added a little video so you know what i mean)

[st8rkey]

sabrina carpenter concert tomorrow and i have no tickets (please manifest for me) 🤗🕯️🕯️

[st8rkey]

obsessed doesn’t even cover it 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

title: milking

warnings: 18+, smut, nipple sucking, pregnant!reader, light fingering

rafe has his head in your lap, lips brushing against the soft swell of your breast, the heat of his breath teasing over your nipple, already sensitive, aching.

"they're sore, baby," you whisper, fingers threading through his thick hair, but you already know how he is, how he gets.

he groans, deep in his throat, a sound of need, of devotion, hands slipping up your pajama top, pushing fabric away until you're bare to him. "then let me help," he murmurs, tongue flicking over the taut peak before he latches on, mouth hot, sucking slow and deep.

pleasure pulses low in your belly, a dull ache that spreads between your thighs as he drinks, his hand already slipping down, cupping you through your pj shorts, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your clit. no underwear. he knew that the second he touched you.

his other hand cups your other breast, thumb teasing over your nipple, watching as creamy white dribbles from the peak, his tongue catching it, lapping up every drop like he’s starving for it. and maybe he is. he moans against you, tongue tracing the bud before sucking harder, lips working greedily.

"fuck, you taste so sweet," he rasps, eyes flicking up to yours, heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide. your fingers curl in his hair, holding him there, because it feels too good to stop, because the slow roll of his fingers between your thighs has your hips twitching, your breath coming faster.

milk beads at your nipple, and he pulls back just enough to watch it spill, thick and warm, sliding down the curve of your breast before he leans in, licking the trail up, groaning as he swallows. his hand dips inside your shorts, fingers slipping through your slick folds, rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit as he latches on again, sucking hard, his mouth working, greedy, desperate.

"rafe—" you gasp, but it’s lost in the way he moans around you, the vibrations making your thighs squeeze together, his fingers pressing deeper, teasing your entrance but not giving you what you need just yet.

"mm," he hums, mouth still full, lips working, tongue laving, drawing more from you, more milk, more moans, more of everything. his lips glisten with it, his chin wet, and when he pulls back, he drags his fingers through the mess, smearing it across your nipple before licking it up again, slow and deliberate.

he’s addicted, obsessed, and when his fingers slide into you, curling deep, you arch into him, body trembling, breath coming in gasps. "let me make you feel good, baby," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses over your breast, his fingers pressing deeper, his mouth descending once more, taking everything you have to give.

tags: @rafesbabygirlx @namelesslosers @drewsephrry @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @rafedaddy01 @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lil-sparklqueen @rafessweetgirl

[st8rkey]

can somebody revive me

[st8rkey]

i’ve been waiting for this chapter—and it’s finally here!! i am so fucking excited to read this 😩🤍

“walking on a plane makes me sea sick :(”

he is such an idiot i can’t 😭😭

“do any of u pack a vape in ur bags”

jj not being able to go without a vape on a plane for like a short time is so him.

and also mango?! insane—he could’ve at least picked a better flavour.

“since when”

i have no comment honestly, can you even blame him?? i doubt he’s ever been on a plane before.

“i am pretty intuitive like that.”

he’s also pretty proactive like that 🥰🥰

“correct! 😘” i love her.

—

i feel like such an idiot because why was i like “why the fuck is there an eiffel tower in las vegas? isn’t that in paris” but then i remembered they have one in las vegas..

—

cleo wishing all those bubbles weren’t there 😍 — STOPPP.

“i don’t want him to feel sad”

oh baby he’s not going to feel sad very soon

“i can talk to him if u want”

AAAHAJHJ stop.

I CANTTTTTT not sarah walking in on jj and kie.. i mean sarah is definitely making sure EVERYONE is having fun

—

“oh girl don’t even worry, we’ve all had one-night stands.”

“it’s rafe.”

“oh!”

well babe, it’s definitely something… 🤗🤗 (if i had the chance to fuck rafe i’d take it too)

also, the picture is so fucking hot.

—

how am i going to survive without part three? i’m looking forwards to it already — loved this so SO much baby 🩷🩷 talk about masterpieces???? your smau’s should be hung up in the louvre or something

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS: 002

002 series masterlist previous chapter next chapter

liked by kiecarrera, notpopee and 294 others

youruser tipsy in vegas 🪩🍸

view all 67 comments…

sarahcameron how many letters in devoured??

↳ youruser EIGHHHTTTTTTT!!

cleoo wishing all those bubbles weren’t there 😍

↳ johnbee ayo??

jjmaybank_ think ur more than tipsy 🤔

↳ youruser shhhh 🤫

kiecarrera prettiest EVA😫💞

topontop hope you’re having fun

↳ youruser …thank you…

↳ jjmaybank_ yo what’s he doing here

↳ youruser literally no idea i’m scared

rafewcameron ‘tipsy’ she says while she faceplants

↳ youruser hey! u said that would stay between us😞

🏷️𝜗𝜚 — taglist ( comment or inbox me to be added ) @st8rkey @xhunnybbyx @gloomyluvr @lili-swagalicious @malibuhearts @emmiesummers @ijustwanttoreadlols @littlefreak-liz @chalahyung01 @vcnillafairy @cherubfille @pogueprincesa @adoreeyou @lolasangelz @xoxosblogsblog @aawdrea @bayouxxqueen @drewstarkeyspecs @luvrclub @partywithjay @likewhyareyousoobsessedwithme @vanessa-rafesgirl @isimpforfictionalcharaceters @yktayy9669 @luzstarkey @hannaa20002000 @rafesbbdoll @jeonjungkaka @mattyskies @drewsswifeyy @wtfisastiles @mymadokamagica @kissesandmartinis @icaqttt @yesterdaysproblemm @rrosiitas @princesspeaxhh @blondrafe @drewstarkeytruelove @leclerc16s @scream4mami @blushmimi @laniirackssss @mycameron

[st8rkey]

♡ ex-bf!rafe breaks in through your window

warnings: dark content ahead!! (you have been warned and there is a cut before this fic starts!! you are responsible for the media and content you consume), cnc, knife play, rough handling, rafe is masked, death threats, degradation, fingering, restraining, slapping, hair pulling, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, dumbification, unprotected sex, rough sex, choking, asphyxiation, dacryphilia, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, baby trapping threats, breeding kink, use of a safe word, aftercare, light fluff

a/n: inspired by this gif and this photo ໒꒰ྀི˃ ⤙ ˂ ꒱ྀིა

wc: 2.3k

rafe loved to watch you sleep, the natural pout of your lips always making him trace a gentle finger along your cupid’s bow. with your eyelashes dusting the tops of your cheeks, you’d stir softly once you felt your bed dip beside you, an unknown weight now sitting at the edge of your bed. your blanket was resting just below the soft curves of your ass, your babydoll nightgown serving no purpose in concealing you from the dark eyes of your now ex-boyfriend.

rafe managed to wait until your little lamp flickered off in your bedroom before he pulled his mask over his face and successfully snuck in through your window without so much as making a sound. he crept upstairs with a knife in his hand, his mind reeling at the thought of dragging the cold steel against your skin. he was never one to just accept things for what they were, and after tonight he knew that he’d once and for all get his sick and demented point across to you.

lifting the frilly lace trim of your gown, rafe felt his cock stir in his pants when he saw that you weren’t wearing any panties.. almost like you were waiting for him to do this. although he had no problem drawing blood, rafe slipped off his gloves, running the tip of his knife down your thigh ever so gently so he wouldn’t actually cut you. after all, you were his beloved little sheep. the sensation made you stir once more, your eyes fluttering open as you finally awakened from your peaceful slumber.

before you could scream at the sight of the masked man sitting right in front of you, rafe moved fast and clamped a hand over your mouth before holding his knife to your throat. “shut the fuck up.” you whimpered against his palm as rafe decided to straddle your legs so you couldn’t get away from him. you were frozen in fear, the pure unadulterated terror in your eyes only turning him on further. “make another sound and i’ll end you right here.” he said through gritted teeth.

you blinked, your eyes brimming with tears. with rafe dressed in all black everything, you couldn’t make out any of his features in the darkness of your room. despite not being able to see him, you could recognize that chilling voice anywhere. slowly retracting his hand from your face, you let out a shaky breath once he took the knife away from your neck. “i didn’t want things to go down this way, but you left me no choice, baby.” rafe stroked the side of your face, using his thumb to wipe away any stray tears that might’ve rolled down your cheeks.

“seeing you sleep so good without me hurts my feelings, you know that? here you are sleeping like a baby while i’ve been up for days just coming up with this plan to finally see you again.” he slipped off his jacket, revealing his arms to you while your hands stayed glued to your sides. “i-i’m so sorry!” you whispered, your trembling voice feeding his ego like no other. “yeah, you’re gonna be.” he leaned down, running the tip of his nose along the column of your throat before breathing in the soft scent of your shampoo.

you shivered once you felt his hands trail down your arms, his fingertips skimming across your flesh before he hiked up your nightgown so it pooled at your waist. he cursed at the sight of your bare cunt, his eyes flickering up to see your teary gaze already looking down at him. “you must’ve known i’d be seeing you soon, s’that why you aren’t wearing anything underneath?” he smiled, spreading your thighs apart. you turned away, your cheeks heating as you felt exposed in this position.

suddenly you felt a slap, a yelp falling from your lips as you held your cheek in shock. “answer me when i ask you a fucking question.” he ripped what was left of your grown, discarding the sheer material and leaving you naked underneath him. “no! no, i didn’t know you were going to get in here!” you cried, your breath hitching in your throat when he trailed his fingers between your folds. threading his fingers in your hair, rafe tugged you forward, forcing you to look down to where his other hand started working on your clit.

“you’re gonna watch me finger this pretty pussy, you understand? ‘show you that you miss this shit.” your hips moved away from him in a poor attempt to stop his ministrations but it just pissed him off. spreading your pretty lips, rafe pinched your sensitive bundle of nerves, a shriek emitting from your mouth at the sudden shockwaves of both pleasure and pain wracked through your body. “what did i tell you i would do if you made another sound?” he warned, rubbing hard circles on your clit in order to try and get you to scream again.

you took your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on the poor flesh as rafe filled you up with two of his digits, your eyes rolling back at the added penetration. he was ruthless on your poor cunt, delivering a harsh slap to your clit every time your eyes threatened to screw shut. rafe saw the way your nails dug crescents into your palms, your arms shaking ever so slightly as you fought the urge to push him away at the overwhelming feeling.

with his digits hitting that soft spot inside of you, and his thumb working mercilessly on your clit, it was all simply just too much. finally, you couldn’t help but shut your thighs around his wrist, your slick walls clenching around his fingers. “you’re so fucking pathetic, just look at you. ‘still trying to act like you don’t want this when you’re drenched.” you whined when he forced your legs open once again, this time popping his digits into his mouth to lick them clean.

“it hurts..” you shuddered, flinching once he lifted a hand to grab you by your chin. “good.” he grumbled, unbuckling his pants before dragging you up on your knees so you were on all fours. rafe handled you like you were nothing but a puppet to him, his fist balling up in your hair while his cock sprung up against his stomach. you gasped softly at the sight, your lips already swollen from how hard you were biting down on them. “m’gonna fuck the same mouth that said i was too mean, ‘watch how how you take my cock down your throat the way i trained you to.”

you didn’t get a chance to object before he was dragging his leaking tip across your lips, prompting you to stick your tongue out for him. pulling your hair so your chin was facing up, rafe groaned as the head of his length met the warm, wet, muscle of your tongue before he slid halfway in with ease. instinctively, you moaned around the intrusion, your teary eyes blinking up at him through your eyelashes as he continued forcing himself down your throat.

you gripped the sheets beneath you as he filled you inch by agonizing inch, your throat constricting around him once he bottomed out, the tip of your nose now kissing his pubic bone. holding your head in place, rafe didn’t give you any time to adjust to the stretch before he pulled out just enough to make you whimper once he slid back in, this time drawing a lewd wet squelch to emit from your throat and bounce off of the walls of your bedroom.

“fuckkk,” he laughed, his head rolling to the side, “see? see how good i taught you how to take my cock?” you whimpered, your jaw turning slack as he started thrusting his hips into your already sore throat. the sounds that followed his movements were nothing short of obscene, the lewdness of it all making you feel slightly embarrassed. he continued pulling your mouth up and down his length until you started bobbing your head by yourself, your eyebrows knitting together in discomfort when he leaned down and took a handful of your ass.

with his hips pistoning in and out of your lips, you couldn’t help the squeal that tumbled from your throat when he delivered a harsh smack to your flesh, your cheeks wet as he watched you cry. your tears only fueled him to pick up his pace, your hands flying up to grip his hoodie. pulling out with a groan, rafe spun you around so your face was pressed down into your sheets. with one hand gripping the soft skin of your hip, you cried out when he forced himself inside of your needy cunt. pulling his hoodie off, rafe threw the material to the side so it was long forgotten on the floor, his fingertips holding onto you with a death grip.

he was absolutely demolishing you right now. losing all ability to form a coherent thought or sentence, you blabbered nonsense as rafe fucked you with no regard. “taking me so fucking good, ‘bet you just love it when i break you in like this, huh? you’re nothing but a cock drunk slut,” he groaned, “you look so brainless right now, there’s nothing going on up there in that pretty head of yours.” he laughed, his words making you whine. rafe was too good at this, you felt like you were hanging on by a thread and you hadn’t even had your first orgasm of the night yet.

leaning down, rafe wrapped a hand around the back of your neck before placing a sloppy kiss on your lips, both of you moaning at the contact. “you okay?” rafe broke character for a quick second, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you shakily let out a ‘m-mhmm!’ cursing under his breath, rafe snaked a hand around your waist before stroking your clit with fervor. “o-oh god— rafe!” you hiccuped, your thighs trembling with sensitivity as you laid helplessly beneath him.

you were completely at his mercy, a sob ripping itself from your throat as you went limp, the band in your tummy snapping with an intensity that had you shrieking into your palm. seeing you come undone and lose yourself on his cock was his favorite sight, your writhing form trembling from his skilled hips still slamming in and out of your own. rafe ignored your sharp gasps and pleas for him to slow down until your knees gave out from under you and your tummy met your bed.

you were such a fucked out mess already, rafe couldn’t help but stroke your cheek as he turned you over. “i need to see this pretty face when i pound your pussy in..” he groaned, slotting himself between your thighs. you wished you could see rafe’s face instead of his ski mask, but when you saw his lips curve into a smug grin, you eagerly pulled him down into another kiss as his cock rested hot and heavy on your stomach. he was rough, his teeth nipping your bottom lip before his tongue found yours.

“i’m not stopping until i see more tears run down these cheeks..” rafe whispered against your lips, your eyebrows knitting in confusion before he clamped a hand over your mouth. running his sticky tip along your glossy folds, you waited with a bated breath as he teased your clit. just as you sighed through your nose, rafe slid into you without warning, the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix sent you screaming, the sound being muffled by his hand.

you were just a few thrusts away from tapping out completely, your safe word sitting at the tip of your tongue. rafe could sense your breaking point, your eyes gleaming with desperation for him to finish. with shaky hands, you held onto rafe’s shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist as he grunted against your skin. he was so fucking close, he could feel your walls squeezing around him, ready to take everything he had. just then, his pubic bone started slamming against your clit, the action making you cry out.

“i’m gonna pump you full of my cum, ‘make you have my babies so you could never leave me,” he threatened, “make you all round and pretty with my seed.” you were crying now, your second orgasm ripping through you more harshly than the first. “red!” you sobbed, tapping his chest as an indication for him to stop. rafe was quick to stop his movements, a guttural groan rumbling from his chest as his hips stuttered, both of you gasping once you felt the warmth of his cum spill into you.

rafe shushed you, his demeanor immediately changing as he finally took the mask off, his lips trailing soft kisses along the underside of your jaw. “shhh, it’s okay,” he whispered, his hands rubbing soothing circles into your hips, “you did so good for me, baby.” he praised, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt absolutely spent. “was it too much?” he asked concerned. you shook your head, reassuring him with a peck on the cheek. “nonono— it was perfect, i’m okay.” rafe sighed in relief, his forehead resting against your own.

“the knife was a little scary, though..” you giggled, moaning softly when he pulled out and collapsed on top of you. feeling his weight like this was so comforting to you, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his broad figure and cling to him in your post-orgasm bliss. “yeah? should i leave it out next time?” rafe felt himself growing sleepy with every stroke of your soft hand on his back.

“..no, i liked it.”

[st8rkey]

“i know rafe would prefer to make his own way” yeah as expected—i swear 😭😭

“👍.” god he texts like my mom, what’s all the attitude for

—

the texts are always the funniest I CANTTTT

“THAT WAS ONE TIME”

“i thought it was twice”

—

“sauna” oh okay steamy 🤭🤭 we gon’ fuck in there?

“you can come with me y/n”

oh SAY NO LESSSS i’ll be riding more than just a car

sarah is so cute in here—like babe has everything planned for everyone and is SO SWEETTT 🥹🥹

“maybe it’ll be his sperm that’s staining your dad’s seat next”

the audible gasp i just let out

“💦” babe kie you’re not helping… poor sarah

“men used to go to war and now they order frappes”

PLEASEEEEEE 😭😭😭

—

“why are you texting and driving”

“sorry”

“PUT THE PHONE DOWN”

MY BABIESSSS 💘💘💘 i love john b and sarah

—

“rafe says im being antisocial” says the most antisocial person like probably ever

—

STOPPPP i love love love this!!! god i’m so invested already. cant wait for the rest 💋

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS: 001

001 series masterlist next chapter

🏷️𝜗𝜚 — taglist ( comment or inbox me to be added ) @st8rkey @xhunnybbyx @gloomyluvr @lili-swagalicious @malibuhearts @emmiesummers @ijustwanttoreadlols

[st8rkey]

OKAY THEME

🤭🤭🤭 had to change it up <33