#Auto Trails | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

evcrmoresworld · 2 months ago

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Mechanic!Rafe Cameron x Innocent!Reader

nsfw [18+] warnings! corruption kink, slight age gap, power play, dubcon, dirty talk, rough but caring sex

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summary, When your car breaks down, you head to your dad’s auto shop expecting him—but find Rafe Cameron there alone instead. He’s your dad’s newest hire: covered in grease, a bad attitude, and worse intentions. You’ve always been the good girl, untouched and innocent… but Rafe sees right through you. And he’s got a thing for ruining pretty things.

You shouldn't have gone there alone. Not with the way he looked at you.

Your dad’s garage smelled like oil and rubber, the air thick with heat and grease, the kind that clung to your skin. You only needed a ride home; your car was still in the shop, and he promised to take you. But the office was empty, the lights off, and your father’s truck was nowhere in sight.

Only he was there. Rafe Cameron.

He looked up from under the hood of a ‘69 Charger, wiping his hands on a rag already stained black. His jaw flexed as he watched you walk in, all sundress and lipgloss, a little too sweet for a place like this. A slow, crooked smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Daddy's not here,” he said, voice low and rough. “He left about ten minutes ago.” He glanced down at his hands, then back up at you. “Told me to lock up. Guess he forgot you were comin’.”

“Oh,” you breathed, fingers fidgeting with your bag strap. “I just—I needed a ride.”

He set the rag aside and leaned back against the car, eyes dragging down your body. You weren’t dumb. You knew he was trouble. Your dad warned you about him more than once.

Too many fights. Too many girls. Too much attitude.

And yet here you were.

Rafe cocked his head. “You trust me to take you home, sweetheart?”

You hesitated. “I mean… I guess I don’t have a choice?”

That grin deepened, dangerous now like he knew something you didn’t. He walked slowly toward you, each step echoing in the cavernous space until he was standing right before you, tall and broad and still smelling like motor oil and cigarettes.

“You shouldn’t say shit like that,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “Someone like me might take it the wrong way.”

Your breath caught.

“I—I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Sure you did.” His fingers trailed down to your neck, then paused at your collarbone, eyes locked on yours. “You think your daddy would still let me work here if he knew the things I wanted to do to his little girl?”

You swallowed hard. “Rafe…”

“You ever been touched, baby?” he whispered, voice like smoke. “Or are you still all sweet and tight and untouched?”

Your cheeks burned, and that silence was all he needed.

“Oh, fuck. You are, aren’t you?”

He groaned, low and filthy, his hand slipping to your waist. “You got no idea what that does to me.”

“Rafe, I don’t think—”

He kissed you before you could finish, mouth hot and urgent against yours. You should’ve pushed him away. You should’ve. But instead you melted into him, fingers clinging to his grease-streaked shirt as he kissed you like he was starving.

“I’ll be good,” he rasped against your lips. “I’ll teach you nice. Make it feel so fuckin’ good you’ll forget your own name.”

He backed you into the tool bench, hands lifting your skirt, his breath hot against your neck. And when he finally sank to his knees in front of you, looking up like you were the only thing worth worshipping, you realized that you weren’t walking out of that shop the same girl who walked in.

You gripped the edge of the workbench behind you like it was the only thing keeping you upright. Rafe’s hands, big and calloused, pushed your thighs apart, the rough pads of his fingers dragging across your soft skin. He looked like he belonged down there, kneeling between your legs, grease-smudged and hungry.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, eyes dark, locked on your core like a predator. “You scared, baby?”

You nodded, breath catching.

“Good.” His smirk was cruel and fond all at once. “You should be. You’ve been daddy’s little angel all your life, huh? Never done anything bad.”

His hands slid up under your skirt, fingertips brushing over the cotton of your underwear. “But here you are. Soaking through these just from me talking to you.”

You whimpered when he pressed his thumb against the damp spot. “Don’t worry,” he crooned. “I’m gonna take real good care of you.”

He pulled your panties aside and didn’t waste time. His tongue was on you in seconds, hot and wet, licking you like he’d been waiting forever for a taste. You gasped, hands flying to his hair, thighs trying to close around his head, but he held you open, mouth working you like a fucking meal.

“Rafe—oh my god—”

He growled into you, dragging the flat of his tongue up your slit before sucking your clit into his mouth. It was filthy. Messy. Nothing like the sweet first time you’d imagined, but it felt good. Too good. Your head tipped back, chest heaving as he devoured you like he owned you.

“This what you wanted?” he asked, voice muffled between your thighs. “You wanted someone to ruin you, didn’t you? Someone to show you what that tight little pussy’s for.”

Your moan was all the answer he needed.

“Yeah,” he grunted, sucking harder. “That’s it. Be a good girl and come on my fuckin’ face.”

You didn’t stand a chance. It slammed into you, hot and intense, your thighs trembling as he held you through it, still licking, still sucking, until you were panting and boneless.

When he finally pulled back, his lips and chin were soaked with you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then stood, towering over you again.

“Look at you,” he said, dragging a thumb across your swollen bottom lip. “All fucked out and I haven’t even been inside you yet.”

Your knees buckled, and he caught you with a laugh, lifting you up like you weighed nothing and setting you down on the workbench.

“You want more, baby?” he whispered, unbuckling his belt. “’Cause I’m not done showing you just how bad you really are.”

Your legs were shaking as he laid you back on the workbench, the chill of the metal biting at your spine but all you could focus on was him.

Rafe stood between your thighs, jeans pushed low, cock in hand, thick, heavy, and flushed with need. You stared, lips parted, overwhelmed by his size and sheer presence.

“You sure about this, baby?” he asked, voice lower than a growl. “You let me in now, I’m not gonna be gentle. Not the first time, not the tenth. You let me fuck you once and you’ll never be able to stop.”

You whimpered, but nodded.

“I want you.”

“Yeah?” he muttered, lining himself up with your entrance. “Then be a good girl and open up f’me.”

The stretch burned at first, hot and sharp and too much. You gasped, hands clutching at the edge of the bench, body tight around him as he pushed in, slow but unrelenting. Inch after inch, filling you more than anything ever had.

“Fuck,” Rafe breathed, head falling forward. “You’re so damn tight… like your cunt’s never been touched.”

“It hasn’t,” you whispered, voice trembling. “You’re the first…”

His groan was downright sinful. “Fuckin’ knew it. I knew it. Bet your daddy doesn’t have a fuckin’ clue what his little girl’s doing in the back of his shop right now.”

You buried your face in his neck, overwhelmed, but so full, so deep.

Then Rafe started to move, slow at first, then harder, faster, as your slick built up and your moans got louder. The bench squeaked beneath you, metal tools clinking with every thrust, your hands desperately clawing at his shoulders.

“You like that?” he grunted. “Like being split open on my cock like a fuckin’ toy?”

You couldn’t even speak, just nodded, tears at the corners of your eyes from the intensity. From how much you loved it.

Then...

BZZZ. BZZZ.

Your phone lit up next to you on the workbench.

Daddy Calling…

Your stomach dropped.

Rafe saw it. Smirked. And never stopped thrusting.

“Ohhh, fuck yes,” he laughed under his breath. “Answer it.”

“I—I can’t—”

He grabbed the phone, hit accept, and held it to your ear with a dark glint in his eyes.

“Say hi, baby,” he murmured. “Let him hear that sweet voice while I’m buried in your fuckin’ guts.”

You struggled to keep your voice steady. “H-Hi, Daddy…”

His voice on the other end was casual. “Hey, sweetheart. Just checkin’ in, you get to the shop okay? Rafe still around?”

Rafe’s hand gripped your throat lightly, eyes burning into yours.

You swallowed hard. “Y-Yeah. He’s here. Just—finishing up…”

He thrust deep. You whimpered.

“You alright, honey? You sound… outta breath.”

Rafe mouthed, Lie to him.

“I’m good,” you managed, voice tight. “It’s just… hot back here.”

You heard your dad laugh. “Alright, well, tell Rafe I’ll see him Monday. You need a ride home or he takin’ you?”

Rafe mouthed it again, hips snapping up into yours: Say I’m taking you.

“He’s—he’s taking me,” you said, blinking through tears.

You hung up quick. The second the line dropped, Rafe slammed into you, hard enough to make the whole bench shift.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, his rhythm going brutal now. “Lying to Daddy while I fuck you full, what would he think if he saw you right now?”

You couldn’t answer. Couldn’t think. You were already falling apart. Reaching a high for the second time. This time, it felt like fire spreading through your veins, every muscle in your body tensing.

“You gonna let me cum in you?” he growled. “Let me stuff this tight little pussy and walk you out like nothin’ happened?”

“Please,” you cried, arching under him. “I want it—I want all of it—”

That was it.

He groaned, deep and rough, grinding into you as he came, hot and thick, spilling inside you. His hips jerked once, twice more before he collapsed over you, panting, still buried deep.

When he pulled out, his cum spilled down your thighs, warm and messy.

He stared at it for a second. Then looked at you, eyes hungry and possessive.

“You’re not a Daddy’s girl anymore,” he whispered. “You’re mine now.”

The garage was quiet again. The only sound was the faint hum of the old fan in the corner and your unsteady breathing as you lay back on the bench, legs still trembling.

Rafe hadn’t pulled out yet. His cock was softening inside you, but he didn’t move. Just leaned over you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other tracing lazy patterns along your thigh.

“You alright?” he asked, voice low, almost tender.

You nodded, blinking up at him, the edges of your innocence frayed and unraveling. “Yeah.”

“Hurts?”

“A little,” you admitted. “But not in a bad way.”

He smiled, the cocky edge of his grin softened by something warm. He brushed his lips over your forehead and murmured, “Told you I’d take care of you.”

Your eyes fluttered shut.

He finally pulled out, and you gasped at the warm spill of him leaking down your thighs. His eyes darkened as he watched it, his fingers tracing your inner thigh, dragging through the mess he made.

“Gonna be dripping all the way home,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Bet you’ll still be wet when you sit down for dinner.”

You shoved at his chest, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. “Stop!”

He grinned but handed you a clean rag, helping you clean up gently even though his fingers lingered too long, like he couldn’t not touch you.

Once you were decent again, he pulled you close, settling between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist, head resting on your chest.

“You know he’s gonna find out,” he said eventually.

Your stomach dropped.

“W-What?”

Rafe looked up at you with a slow, lazy smirk. “He’s not dumb. You think he won’t notice the way you walk? Or the way you can’t even look him in the eye after being filled with my cum.”

You slapped his shoulder with a gasp, mortified, but he caught your wrist, pulled your hand to his mouth, and kissed your knuckles.

“You’re mine now.” His voice was gravel and heat. “You think I’m gonna let someone else touch what I just ruined? No fuckin’ chance.”

Your heart twisted at his words, possessive, raw, and real. This wasn’t just a one-time thing to him. And despite every reason to say no, to pull away, to run home and pretend nothing happened…

You didn’t want to.

Not when he looked at you like that. Like you were the only good thing he’d ever laid hands on. Like he wanted to dirty you up again and again just to keep a piece of you under his skin.

You kissed him again, slow and sweet.

"I'm yours."

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