#rafe and barry fanfiction

[lostsyren]

i bet on losing dogs

{a/n: have this rarry drabble! how i think it went down between them}

{warnings: nsfw kinda? drugs, mentions of sex}　　

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The trailer was muggy and unventilated, smoke hanging thick in the air, stretching into pretty patterns across the lamplight.

All of Barry’s customers had gone. All except one.

Rafe Cameron was slouched back in the sunken couch, his languid body almost fused to the tattered leather, making no effort to leave.

Barry tensed his jaw, pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Ain’t your pops gonna wonder where you are?”

Rafe scoffed with a curt shrug. “Fuck him. He doesn’t care,” he rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.

“Yeah well, I got shit to do Rafe. I can’t be babysittin’ you no more.”

Rafe narrowed his eyes, his lips screwing up. He reached his hand down into the pockets of his jeans pulling out his wallet.

“Here,” he threw a handful of bills onto the cluttered coffee table, “give me another bag, babysitter.”

Barry ran his tongue across the bottom of his teeth, looking down at the boy with sweaty skin and golden strands of hair sticking to a shiny forehead. His irises were more black than blue in the wan light, gaze impossibly conceited: as if he wasn’t some coked out piece of shit spending daddy’s money like it was his own; as if he was better than everyone else who passed the trailer door.

As if he was the one calling the shots.

Barry walked over and bent down to grab the interspersed bills, before throwing the baggie square at his chest. He heard him mumble a feeble thanks which surprised him.

Rafe usually was in and out of here like a needle through skin– short and sharp and quick.

Except when it got dark and the only place left for him to go was home. That’s when he lingered– like the way the smoke from the countless blunts they all smoked did, his body stretching and curling on the couch as he drifted off to sleep.

Barry would grab him by the cuff of his polo when that happened, yanking him towards the door…at least most of the time.

Occasionally when Barry was too tired to lug Rafe’s 6ft, muscle bound ass out of here, he let him sleep. After locking away all his product in the safe, of course.

So maybe that’s why Rafe was being all polite.

He could shove that thanks up his ass.

“You’re not stayin’ tonight, dawg.”

Rafe’s eyes flickered up to meet his as he made a rough line on the coffee table, rolled up twenty already in between jittery fingers.

He looked back at the coke, his lips tugged downwards like he was disappointed.

Barry watched him sniff up a line, swiping the flecks away with pinched fingers, before getting up off the couch.

He walked past him, heading toward the door. Rafe’s head was hung low, the nape of his neck visible. Barry slapped a consoling hand onto his shoulder with a dull thwack, before he could leave. He knew how shitty Ward could be. Rafe would go on many a coke rant about him, and Barry knew what it was like having a hard ass for a father.

“He does care. He just doesn’t know how to show it,” he murmured quietly. Their bodies were misaligned, Rafe facing the door and Barry facing the living room. Barry’s softened gaze was fixated on that sliver of tanned scruff, like eye contact was too much. Too personal.

Rafe wasn’t wearing a polo shirt today. Just a simple, thin tee that clung to his sweat slicked back. He looked like he could be from the Cut in this light. He often did after spending hours and hours at the trailer. The gel in his hair would evaporate, thick, greasy strands falling messily around his face. His skin would redden and peel from the sun when they’d sit outside. And he’d get this look in his eyes. He was no longer manic and giddy and scared, like a dog before a fight. He seemed comfortable.

Rafe turned his neck slowly, in a way that looked awkward. He would’ve been starring straight down at Barry but his gaze drifted lower, hooked on the matted carpet, “you think so?” His voice was small and low. Almost hopeful.

Barry laughed softly at the disparity. When he wasn’t acting like a haughty rich bitch, Rafe was just a messed up kid feinding for approval.

“Yeah man, all that touchy feely shit is for girls. He’s treating you like a man. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.”

Barry manoeuvred Rafe’s body with the rough hand still clamped on his shoulder, making him face him. “You have a home to go to. Most the people who be up in this joint don’t. That’s not nothin’ yeah?”

Rafe nodded, lifting his head, “yeah.”

They finally looked at each other, Barry giving him a smile. It wasn’t unorthodox– Barry often flashed people his gold tooth. He found it made them more willing to do things for him when they thought he was their friend.

So when Rafe leaned in and put his mouth onto that smile, Barry was taken aback.

He didn’t react when Rafe’s lips crushed against his in a rough kiss. His eyes just scrunched shut as if he was punched straight in the face. His hand was still on Rafe’s shoulder, his grip tightening until he felt the bone dig into his palm. He didn’t even register the hand on his nape until Rafe’s fingers curled around his hair.

The kiss must’ve only lasted a second, Rafe breaking away to construe Barry’s reaction.

Blue eyes flickered between brown ones. Barry’s mouth opened slightly, lips wet with Rafe’s saliva. Rafe swallowed thickly, adam’s apple oscillating in his throat. Barry didn’t relent, his hand still on his shoulder. He licked his lips slowly, lapping up Rafe’s spit.

And that’s all Rafe needed.

He lowered his head again, and this time Barry bridged the gap, their lips emeshing against the others in a messy, painful struggle which ached in a way that felt good.

Barry’s hand wrapped around Rafe’s nape, feeling the sweat plaster against his skin, as Rafe’s free hand dug into his ribs.

Rafe was clumsy and awkward, like he didn’t know if he wanted to fight or fuck. His nose pressed roughly against Barry’s cheek as he pushed his face further into him. They stumbled backwards legs tripping each other up as they fell onto the couch with a dull thud, their mouths separating.

Barry let out a smothered groan, as Rafe’s knee settled in between his legs and Rafe panted breathlessly, that same manic look returning in his eyes. Like a dog before a fight.

“You into this shit?” Barry huffed, body straining upwards so we wasn’t pressed into the couch by Rafe’s weight.

“Fuck no. Are you?” Rafe rallied, jaw tensed.

Barry let out a little scoff, “clearly that ain’t true baby boy.” He lowered his eyes to Rafe’s crotch, and back up at Rafe, who seemed embarrassed, as if he wasn’t just kissing him like he was starved a moment earlier.

Barry’s hands travelled to his belt, yanking the strap out of the buckle, but Rafe suddenly retreated, his body staggering until it hit the other end of the couch.

“Just wait a minute– fuck.” He muttered, his breaths coming out in heaving lurches, like he was about to be sick.

Barry swallowed his grumble, sitting up. They had a good distance in between them now. Rafe’s belt remained unbuckled, slung loosely around his hips as he ran a hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact with Barry.

They were silent for a long while, before Barry scoffed quietly, smoothening out his shirt, “I think it’s time for you to head home country club.”

Rafe just shook his head, wincing as if he was in pain.

“You wanna stay?” Barry asked, to which Rafe looked up at, something akin to hope flashing across his features.

“Well this ain’t a fuckin’ hostel. Go home Rafe.”

His face darkened, mouth twisting in a scowl, before standing up and buckling his belt. Barry noted how his hands shook slightly, the metal catch rattling loudly in the noiseless trailer that was beginning to feel more and more suffocating. Even more than it was when they had their mouths all mangled up against each other, trying to cling to their grit and masculinity.

They weren’t kissing. They were gnawing.

They weren’t making out. They were roughhousing.

But how could you say you were just play fighting with your pants off and dick out?

You couldn’t. And the stifling reality of the situation seemed to just dawn on Rafe right now, so much so that it looked like it pained him to breathe.

Rafe ran a weary hand down his face, his cheeks red like cherries and lips pink like cotton candy. “Can you not say anything about this? To anyone?”

Barry rolled his eyes, “whatever man. I don’t kiss and tell.”

Rafe seemed to blanch at that. He cleared his throat, readjusting his jeans as his hard on slowly faded, before nodding meekly, head dipping as if to say thanks.

And then he left, leaving Barry alone in his trailer with the lingering taste of vodka and mint gum on lips and the smell of sickly sweet cologne on his muscle tee.

[urcoolgf]

can you do rafe still wants you but you’re barry’s gf

this is so good yesssss

OFF LIMITS?

pairing. boyfriend’s bsf¡rafe && reader

content. 18+. smut. cheating (not on reader). unprotected sex. breeding kink(ig?). language. mention of drugs.

he couldn’t believe you were with barry.

you were everything he wasn’t; kind, smart, well-mannered, innocent.

God, you were so fucking innocent—not in the ‘never been kissed way’ just the way you looked at him, eyes wide like you’d let him do anything to you. it drove him crazy. rafe couldn’t help but think about ruining you. you were so delicate, so breakable. and rafe—he wanted to break you in. it was all he thought about; at night with his dick in his hand, at dinner when he was supposed to be partaking in family conversation, when he woke up in the morning, every. single. shower. you were every thought—even his dreams had you in them.

and you were with barry? what did he do to deserve you?

he was a drug dealer—a bad guy. he was an asshole with no morals, a guy who’d do anything for a stack of cash, or a bag of coke. rafe liked to tell himself that you were only doing it to prove a point, maybe fuck with your parents or friends, freak them out by dating ‘the drug dealer’. that was the only thing that kept him sane—not that he was. he was far from it when it came to you.

so, it was inconvenient that every time he needed his next fix, he had to see you.

—

rafe’s fist banged against the metal door of barry’s trailer. he didn’t bother to wait for him to open it—his pounding was a warning rather than a request.

he walked into the trailer only to find barry sitting on the couch… with you in his lap. barry played with the hem of your shorts with one hand, the other occupied with a beer bottle. your tiny tank top left little to the imagination, and your shorts had the same effect. the ‘B’ necklace hanging from your neck made rafe’s skin crawl. he hated it, hated you for wearing it, hated barry the most. your dark hair fell perfectly against your flawless skin, and your perfect legs were on full display across the couch.

this sight should be considered a form of torture.

“ayo country club! what’s goin’ on my man,” barry greeted rafe with a faux level of enthusiasm… and you just sat there, all pretty and perfect and fuckable and rafe was losing his damn mind. your big doe eyes looking up at rafe when he entered had blood rushing to his crotch. it was pathetic, and he hated it (he loved it).

you climbed off barry’s lap so he could retrieve rafe’s coke. you knew how this worked—not only with barry, but with rafe. he was a loyal customer. you sat yourself back down on the lumpy couch, the tv playing something on a low volume. you pretended to watch, but all you could focus on was rafe’s gaze burning into you. you shifted uncomfortably—mainly because the couch was uncomfortable, but rafe’s eyes didn’t help either.

barry came back with a bag of cocaine, exchanging it with rafe for some cash the blonde pulled out of his pocket. a sudden ring was heard through the trailer, barry reaching into his pocket to pull out a phone.

“yeah? … shit! a’ight, a’ight. … CALM DOWN. fuck ‘m on my way,” he hung up without another word.

“yo rafe, imma need ya to stay here with y/n. i gotta go handle somethin’,” he said frantically, grabbing the keys to his bike and something else before heading toward the door.

“wait! barry where–?!,” you started, you weren’t necessarily worried about him leaving—more worried about him leaving rafe alone with you.

“i’ll be back, princess. just gotta handle business. y’know how it is. stay here a’ight?,” and he was out the door without another protest from you or rafe—not that rafe had any protest.

“okay, bye…,” you muttered to yourself as you heard the bike starting, and sputtering off. rafe couldn’t help the smirk spreading across his face as he plopped down on the couch next to you.

“looks like it’s just me and you ‘princess’,” he mocked barry’s nickname for you (even though rafe would love to call you it at any given chance).

“looks like it,” you responded, bringing your knees to your chest. you didn’t mind rafe, but he had a tendency to ‘flip switches’, and you would be lying if you said that didn’t scare you… just a bit.

“c’mon doll… ‘m not gonna bite,” he taunted quietly. he scooched just a little closer to you. he leaned over so his mouth was right next to your ear, “unless you want me to,” he whispered. you would be lying if you said that didn’t send chills down your spine.

the next thing you felt were his fingers pushing strands of your hair out of your face. he peered down at that awful necklace, reaching out to toy with it. you couldn’t move—you should have, should have gotten up and walked to the other side of the trailer—but you were stuck. not physically—mentally. you didn’t know why, but your brain didn’t even want you to move. told you to ‘stay put. let him do it’.

he released the necklace, letting the metal fall back against your chest. his fingers trailed around your collarbone, featherlight like you would crack if he was too rough. your breathing was uneven and shallow, and rafe was thriving off it.

“haven’t pushed me away, sweetheart,” his low tone aggravated you. not because he was annoying, just because he was so smug. he knew what he was doing to you right now, and he was enjoying it.

“y’know you’re too good f’r him, baby,” he was whispering as if he had to keep it a secret, as if barry was on the other side of the wall. you were frustrated with your speechless-ness, frustrated with the way your thighs clenched together at his words, at his touch. your knees were starting to hurt from being pressed together so hard.

you finally looked toward him, met his lust-filled eyes. his pupils were so blown that his eyes barely looked blue anymore. your breath hitched, plump, glossed lips parting ever so slightly. rafe could feel your warm, unsteady breaths against his face, and his mind went foggy.

he closed the space between you like if he didn’t kiss you now barry might come back before he could—like he had to seize the moment.

you wished you had pulled away, slapped him right across his face, told him how wrong it was—how messed up he was, and kicked him out… but, you didn’t. you couldn’t.

—

“shit, doll… so fuckin’ tight f’r me. barry not big enough f’r ya?,” he said breathlessly as he pumped in and out of you. your naked body was caged against the couch, rafe’s equally naked body moving above you. all you could do was whimper in response. you didn’t know how long barry had been gone at this point, and shamefully… you didn’t care. if he walked in right now while rafe’s dick was making imprints on you, you don’t think you’d even want him to stop. you felt shitty, but rafe quickly distracted you.

"answer me,” he demanded, moving his hand to grasp your throat just enough to grab your attention, and knock the wind out of you.

“fuck! no– no rafe,” you responded. you couldn’t even think—the way his dick was hitting spots you didn’t even know existed was making your head spin.

“say it,” he spat at you—not in a mean way, he was being cocky. he wanted you to say he was better, say barry couldn’t compare… unfortunately, you were too cock drunk to protest.

“barry’s– not… he’s not big– enough. shit!,” your words were broken by moans and sobs—and the pressure rafe had on your throat right now. your back arched off the couch after a particularly deep thrust, sending your eyes to the back of your head.

“yeah… ‘nd fuckin’ remember it, too,” he was putting his all into fucking you. he would make sure he got this opportunity again, but he didn’t know when. he was going to make the absolute best of this. make the best of his best friend’s girlfriend opened on his dick, mascara running down your face, hair messy, totally gone.

his hand left your neck, moving both hands to squeeze your tits—stabilizing him in a way—as he continued moving in and out of you. he looked back at the ‘B’ resting on your chest. you noticed a smirk spread across his face, but you were too blissed out to say anything.

he wrapped his hand around the metal, ripping it from your neck forcefully. you shrieked from the sudden movement, the back of your neck stinging from the action.

“open up, baby,” he cooed. your lips parted instantly, he smiled at your obedience, placing the ‘B’ between your lips, instructing you to bite down on it.

“let barry hear your moans, princess. let him hear how good i make you feel,” the smug look on his face drove you insane—not in the way it did not even 30 minutes ago—in a way that had you clenching around him.

“fuck– jus’ like that… holy shit, pussy’s fuckin’ perfect,” his jaw tensed at the sensation. your arms were hooked around his neck, but when you felt your orgasm approaching, your manicured hands mindlessly raked down his back. a hiss could be heard from the man above you.

"there ya go… cum on this dick, sweetheart. make a mess f’r me,” his hand moved down to rub circles into your clit, and that was all you needed. you were convulsing around him, shaking beneath him, and coming undone with a loud moan that was barely muted by the metal in your mouth.

“want me to cum in ya? get ya all fat with my babies? let barry see you carryin’ my kid? fuck you’d look so hot all plump f’r me,” his words came out in breaths. you could tell he was close.

“mhm! fuck– please ray,” you looked up at him, innocent, big, doe eyes staring right at him, and he was done for. he came in you with a shattered moan, painting your walls white. he pulled out slowly, watching his release drip out of you, and onto barry’s couch. he groaned at the sight, quickly pulling out his phone, taking a picture of your current state—he got all of you, from your messy hair, fucked out expression and glossy eyes, to the mess between your thighs. the ‘B’ still sticking out of your mouth in a sinful way.

you didn’t care. you never let barry take pictures of you—said it was ‘creepy’ and ‘borderline sadistic’, but for some reason when rafe did it… it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

"hope you can keep a secret, doll… because this cannot be the last time i fuck you.”

an: i’m working my way thru some more reqs, so if you sent something i promise it’s in my drafts.ᐟ this was a super fun one to write tho, so thank you to whoever sent this :)

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[urmum-lovesme]

Hear me out…

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

☆Where she’s JJ’s older sister struggling to keep the house together and pay the bills whilst her brother’s constantly out with the Pogues and Luke is drowning further into his horrible habits - so she does the only thing she can think of to get fast money- become a stripper at one of the only clubs in the Cut.

☆The last thing she was expecting when she's doing her shift was to see Rafe and Barry dealing in the club, and when he saw her- he knew exactly how to use this 'new information' to his advantage.

☆So now, not only is she working two jobs at the strip club and as a waitress at the country club, she's stuck being nice to Rafe, practically kissing the floor he walks on, in desperate hope that he won’t tell her little brother where she gets her money from.

☆However, amongst all his cruel manipulation he can't help but feel different towards her when she comes to him with a serious problem- which leaves him conflicted as whilst he helps her out with her 'issue', those deep rooted feeling of hatred towards her he once had have started to change to something else...

🫦 I've got a whole series planned my hunny bunnies

ps : here's P1 !

[4vanaa]

— MODERN FAMILY.

an outer banks alternate universe

— PAIRINGS dad!rafe cameron x mom!reader | dad!jj maybank x mom!kiara carrera | dad!pope heyward x mom!cleo | dad!john b routledge x mom!sarah cameron | singlefather!topper thornton | uncle! barry |

— SYNOPSIS a slice-of-life series that takes you into the heart of one big, chaotic, and loving family. at the center of it all is you and rafe navigating the ups and downs of parenthood with your own kids—ranging from toddlers to teenagers—while trying to balance your relationship, your personal growth, and the wild, unpredictable moments that come with raising a family. but it’s not just about you, the obx cast is all here. they all have their own families, with different parenting styles, dynamics, and struggles.

— TROPES/TAGS established relationships, slice of life, chaotic family dynamics, fluff, very mild angst, humor, original characters, everyone’s married, parenthood, no real plot, everything is a standalone.

TEASER

—MEET THE FAMILIES 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 |

REQUESTS/DRABBLES.

HEADCANONS.

ONESHOTS.

SMAUS/TEXTS.

a/n: credits to @zyafics for the layout!! this work is also inspired by @papercranesandinkstains elementary smau. and credits to @vesearartistry for the dividers!! heavily inspired by modern family. there is no plot, every drabble/headcanon are all in the same universe but not needed to understand the other. if you’d like to request something you’d like to see just comment below here, or send an ask.

🏷️ taglist: if you’d like to be tagged for this smau, or any future or current ones, you can reply and i’ll add you!!

[rafessecret]

hi! i love ur writing and was wondering if you could write for rafe and basically reader is hanging at barry’s trailer high off m0lly and really needy and begging barry to help her out (fuck her) and he tells her to chill and soon rafe comes by to get his drugs and sees reader on the couch wiggling all around and and barry tells rafe what’s up with her and tells him to figure out because he has to go do a delivery for his customers and while barry leaves rafe fucks reader on barry’s bed/couch until she’s satisfied.

⋆˚࿔ trailer¡park reader && rafe cameron

I'M DESPERATE.

Stretched out on Barry’s couch, your skin is shimmering, dewy with sweat, every nerve lit up like you’ve been kissed by stars. The molly hits you in waves—sweet and dizzying. Your heart races. Your pupils are blown, so wide the whites barely show, and everything is so soft, so good, too much. The thin fabric of your tank clings to your chest, nipples peaked and visible. Your thighs rub together in search of friction, hips twitching like they have a mind of their own. You giggle, breathless and high, burying your face in a scratchy throw pillow that smells like weed and boy. ❝Please,❞ you whimper, voice coated in sugar and desperation. ❝Barry, I need it.❞

He just leans back in a folding chair, lighting a joint with lazy fingers. He doesn’t even look at you. ❝Fuckin’ hell, sugar, chill out. You’re all wound up. I got deliveries.❞ But that only makes you more desperate. You shift on the couch, thighs rubbing together, slick and twitchy. Your tank is riding up, your panties damp and clinging. You whine louder, hips canting up against the air. ❝Barry, please—I’ve been good, haven’t I? Just need it so bad. Can’t stop squirming.❞

You crawl toward him, eyes wide and glossy, lip trembling. You reach for his thigh, nuzzling close, fingers trembling. ❝It hurts, Barry. I’m so wet it’s dripping. Just want to feel full. Just need you to touch me.❞ He groans, cock twitching under his jeans, but he keeps smoking, keeps teasing. ❝Look at you. Fucking’ mess. Begging like that—sweet little voice all shaky.❞ He finally looks down, smirking. ❝You’re going to drive me crazy. But I really have to go.❞

❝No!❞ You cry, crawling up into his lap, your breath hitching. ❝Please, Barry—I’ll be so good, I promise. I’ll ride you nice and let you cum wherever you want. Don’t leave me like this; I’m aching.❞ He chuckles, pulling your hands off his belt. ❝Cute. Fuckin’ greedy little thing. But you have to wait. Rafe’s swinging’ by—maybe he’ll deal with you.❞ Right then, the trailer door swings open with a creak. Rafe steps inside, low-browed and sun-warmed, jaw already tight. He's just here for a drop—but then he sees you. He sees the gloss smeared on your lips, your cheeks flushed, mascara smudged down your face like war paint. Sees you grinding down on the pillow, trying to get yourself off like a fucked-up little kitten in heat. Your mouth’s parted, panting like you’ve been chasing relief for hours.

Barry chuckles, nodding toward you. ❝She’s rollin’ hard. Been begging’ me to fuck her for half an hour. Keeps playing’ with her tits, can’t sit still.❞ Your eyes meet Rafe’s. Blurry, sparkly, helpless. ❝Rafe… please.❞ Barry claps him on the back on the way out. ❝She’s all yours, man. Figure her out. I have to drop off. Lock up when you’re done.❞ The trailer door slams behind him. Silence. Rafe moves slowly. Crosses the space between you in a few long strides. You don’t even realise you’re whining until his shadow blocks out the ceiling light. ❝You look like you’re about to lose it, sweetheart.❞

You nod frantically, mouth trembling. ❝Need to cum so bad. Been aching. Hurts.❞ He slaps you across the face—not too hard, but enough to make you gasp. Enough to spark more heat under your skin. Then he grabs you by the wrist and drags you into Barry’s room. The mattress smells like smoke and sex, the covers tangled. He tosses you down onto them like you weigh nothing. Rafe groans low when he sees your panties—thin and soaked, clinging to your pussy like second skin. Your legs are already spread, toes curling into the sheets.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. Soft. Gentle. For one second. Then he pulls back, lips wet, smirk cruel. His fingers trail down between your thighs, slow and torturous. They brush along your folds, slick and twitching, teasing your clit without pressing in. Just the edges of sensation, light and fluttering, and it drives you crazy. You sob. Hips rock up—he pins them down with one strong hand. ❝Stop that,❞ he snaps. ❝You want it? Ask pretty.❞ You reach for his wrist, trying to drag him lower, guide him where you need it, but he just shakes his head. Laughs. He taps your clit once. Just once. You wail.

Your whole body’s on fire, trembling. You could cry. Maybe you are. He slides two fingers in, just barely. You whine, eyes rolling, trying to grind down. ❝Not enough. Rafe, please. Need your cock. It’s not big enough. I need it—please.❞ That does it. His expression twists—dangerous, sharp, and so fucking dark it sends heat straight to your core. He yanks his fingers free, your slick clinging to them, and flips you onto your stomach so fast your cheek smacks the pillow. You barely have time to gasp before he’s got your hips hauled up, back arched, panties dragged down to your knees like an afterthought. ❝Not big enough?❞ he growls, voice thick with hunger.

Then he fucks you. A brutal, toe-curling thrust that knocks every ounce of air out of your lungs. You scream into the mattress, drooling, clenching down hard around him. His cock is massive—veiny, throbbing, and hot—stretching you until your pussy flutters around him helplessly. You feel it in your ribs, in your belly, and in your throat. He pounds into your gummy spot with precision, his length bottoming out with every cruel, hungry push.

Your legs tremble violently. You’re soaked, dizzy, high and overstimulated, pleasure bleeding into pain and back again. Your walls tighten like a vice around him, clutching at his cock with every punishing stroke. ❝Fuck,❞ Rafe snarls, yanking your hair and forcing your face deeper into the sheets. ❝Listen to you. Whimpering like a bitch in heat. So fucking’ needy.❞ He’s relentless—hips snapping against your ass, one hand on your spine to keep you pinned down while the other fists your hair. You’re choking on your own moans, your brain pure static.

❝Feels like heaven, doesn’t it?❞ He pants, voice rough, forehead damp with sweat as he presses his weight down on you. ❝Your tight little pussy fluttering on my cock—fucking’ perfect.❞ You nod, sobbing through it, jaw slack. ❝S’big,❞ you slur, tongue heavy. ❝So big, Rafe—feels so good—❞ He grunts, angling deeper, the thick head of his cock grinding into your favourite spot until your toes curl and you go silent, lips parting around a breathless whimper. He can feel the way your cunt pulses around him, your climax building with helpless urgency. ❝There it is. ‘That’s your spot, huh?’ he breathes. ❝Takin’ me so fuckin’ well. That’s it, baby—cum for me.❞

You do. Loud and wrecked, your pussy clenching down hard around him, thighs twitching. Your orgasm hits like a train—white-hot, messy, leaving your brain completely numb. And Rafe’s not done. He fucks you through it, harder, faster, chasing his own high. The sound of skin slapping, wet and raw, fills the room. His cock throbs inside you, thick and soaked with your slick, the head dragging through your fluttering walls. ❝Gonna fill you up,❞ he snarls. ❝You want that, don’t you? Want my cum all the way inside?❞

You nod frantically, high off it, slurring something close to ❝please❞ into the pillow. He cums deep inside you, cock jerking, pulsing hard, hot spurts painting your walls. You choke on a sob, whimpering as the warmth floods you. Rafe stays deep, gritting his teeth, hips grinding through the last waves of release. He collapses over you, mouth at your ear.

❝Next time,❞ he breathes, voice gravel. ❝Don’t beg, Barry. Beg me.❞

── ⋆ 𝐲𝐚𝐩 : umm yum thank you anon, you get itttt + um yess I know this is the same ask and the same concept and yes me and them have already spoke about it!! they’re completely fine with it and have actually read this already and said it’s totally okay for me to post. we got the ask around the same time and luckily I noticed before posting that we’d both received it, so no worries at all angels

── ⋆ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 : @scne-vampire @browniepop62 @urcoolgf

©RAFESSECRET ⋆˚࿔ est. 2025

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (7) r.cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, dd/lg, sugar daddy rafe, spoiling kink, little space, reader is feeling extra small, little editing, barry doing barry things 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Finally!!

word count: 4.2k

In which your Daddy wants to take you on a business trip but you're feeling way too little to want to tag along.

masterlist

Rafe pressed his phone between his shoulder and ear, needing to free both his hands to attend to you. Tears streamed down your face as you squirmed around on the sunroom couch. Two small swollen spots were on your arm, bee stings, but you were flailing so much that Rafe could barely get a good look. Unfortunately, Rafe was on the phone when the incident happened, and he and Barry were discussing today’s important plans. 

“It hurts!” you cried out, and Rafe could only assume that you’d never been stung by anything before. You woke up pouty, with Rafe sensing that you were on edge, maybe disappointed that Lana had been gone for so long, but this seemed to be the final straw for you: “It hurts!”

“What’s all the drama, Country Club?”

“Got stung by some bees,” Rafe spoke tersely, trying to pin your arm down, “I know, baby, I know. Gotta get the stingers out.”

He pressed his body weight against your hip, gaining better leverage to keep you still. Holding your arm tightly, he used a card from his wallet to scrape the area side to side. This only seemed to distress you more, but this was the best way he knew how to get rid of them. 

“Please, please, please,” You begged over and over, “It hurts, Daddy.”

“She gonna be okay for the trip?” Rafe heard Barry ask. 

“Yeah, don’t worry. She’s gonna love it,” Rafe grunted, keeping you pinned underneath him. 

Maybe this was a sign, Rafe thought. The morning so far had been terrible and no good for you, he didn't want to add further to your discomfort. With relative ease, Rafe got both stingers out, but you were still in pain, that was clear, “Stay right there, don’t move,” Rafe spoke sternly before he moved from on top of you, “Gonna get you some ice.”

“Don’t wanna go–please don’t leave me,” Rafe huffed at your immediate refusal of his command. He had no idea why you’d gotten so riled up. For time and argument’s sake, Rafe lifted you into his arms. He carried you back into the house and towards the kitchen. 

“Sterling was pretty willing to stop stealing your workers and spreading rumors about the company, yet he wants to meet again. You don’t think it’s shady he wants to meet outside of Kildare?”

“He wants more,” Rafe said as he sat you down on the kitchen island. He grabbed his phone again with his hand as he started to rummage through the freezer, “That’s the only possible reason.”

“And you want to hear him out? What else do we need from him?”

“What, you don’t think we need him?” Rafe countered, “You’re the one who gave me the idea in the first place.”

“I just …” Barry started, “I didn’t think you would want to go further.” 

“I’m not–It’s not a big deal,” Rafe shook his head as he finally picked out an icepack. Rafe’s mind was split between the urgent need to soothe your pain and the looming business discussions with Barry. A huge real estate investment convention was being held at some fancy hotel in Charleston and Sterling had chosen it as the setting of their next meeting. 

With the ice pack in hand, he returned swiftly to where you sat on the kitchen island, visibly distressed and still sniffling from the bee stings. “Here, baby. Hold that against your arm for me. It’ll make it feel better.”

Reluctantly, you held the icepack against your injury. The tears had stopped falling, but Rafe could sense that you were starting to grow upset with him rather than the bee sting. 

Rafe leaned against the counter, trying to ignore your glare and focus back on the conversation. "It’ll be a good chance to see who he’s connected with, maybe find some new business partners. I wanna see what else he’s after,” Rafe explained. “You didn’t see how desperate he acted at the club … I know we can get much more out of him. Like you said, everyone has a weakness.”

“We could use his connections,” Barry conceded, “But you don’t think he’s gonna maybe want an actual chance with Bambi?”

“I know how to handle this. I won’t let him get close enough to think he actually has a chance.”

“Huh,” Rafe could practically feel Barry’s uncertainty through the phone.

“Barry,” Rafe continued, his tone sharp and commanding, “I want everything ready. We’re taking three cars—two SUVs and the truck. You’ll drive the SUV with two guards, and me and Bambi will ride in the truck, and we’ll need another two men riding behind us. You’ll lead the way to Charleston. We won’t need it, but I want backup, extra firepower, the works.” 

Without another word, Rafe hung up the phone call, throwing his cell phone onto the counter. 

Next, Rafe searched for the first aid kit underneath the sink, “Are you angry, Daddy?”

“No,” Rafe said, looking into your eyes. “You know how Barry and I talk to each other. Daddy’s not mad.”

“Who were you talking about?” You brought your uninjured arm up to wipe your wet face. 

“We’re going on a trip,” As you stared at him, Rafe pulled out a red first aid kit. He set it on the counter before he rummaged through it, pulling out the tools he needed. “Remember Mr. Sterling? Daddy’s got some business to handle with him.”

You flinched when Rafe dragged an alcohol wipe across your skin, but he placed a hand on your waist, steadying you. You were much more compliant, much calmer when Rafe’s skin was against yours. 

“Oh,” You spoke simply and Rafe searched your eyes for the thoughts swirling behind them, “My arm hurts.” 

Rafe sighed, finding the pack of bandaids, “I know, Bambi. You want a pink or green bandaid?” 

“Where’s the Cinderella ones?” Your lips pouted as you looked down at the options Rafe presented you. 

“I don’t know. We must be out. You can have pink or green.” As your frowned deepened, Rafe took a deep breath, trying to hold his tongue, “Pick. Or Daddy’s gonna pick for you.” 

Reluctantly you reached out a finger and pointed to the pink bandaid. Rafe carefully placed it over the sting. 

Rafe leaned back, studying your face for lingering distress. “After this morning, I think a little vacation would make you feel better,” he said softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m taking care of everything. I just need you to be good.” 

“I want Lana to come with us.”

“She has the week off, remember?”

“What am I supposed to do while you’re working? You can call her, maybe? Maybe she’ll want to come.” 

“She’s with her family, Bambi. All week. I’m not gonna bother her,” Rafe spoke, finality in his tone. 

He closed the first aid kit and pushed it aside. “You’ll be fine without Lana. You’ve got me. I’ll keep you busy.” He tilted his head, trying to meet your gaze, but you were still pouting, your fingers fiddling with the edge of the pink bandaid he’d applied moments earlier.

“You’re always working,” you muttered, looking down at your arm. “You won’t have time.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, but his tone remained measured. “When I’m not working, I’m with you. Today’s no different. You’re gonna love it. We’ll stay in a big room and you can order whatever food you want and they’ll bring it to you.”

Your lips twitched as if considering a smile, but the pout remained. “But Lana always packs good snacks.”

“Bambi,” Rafe chuckled, stepping closer to wrap an arm around your waist. “I can pack snacks. I know what you like, don’t I? 

“Okay,” you mumbled reluctantly. 

Rafe smirked, satisfied with your compliance, before he lifted you off the counter and onto your feet, “No more tears, yeah? I don’t like seeing you upset.”

You nodded, watching as Rafe returned to his phone and began typing furiously. Your face fell again, and you realized that you craved Rafe’s undivided attention. Rafe’s “work” was beginning to bother you. When you stood in place, he looked up at you once more, “Why don’t you go upstairs and start packing baby? Put on something comfortable for the drive.”

You parted your lips but closed them quickly. You considered just being grateful that Rafe was taking you along on his business trip. After all, you hadn’t left the island the entire time you’d been with Rafe. Wasn’t there part of you that wanted to see more of the world? You ignored that voice in your head. Today, all you felt was that you wanted to be in bed, cuddled up to Rafe. You moped all the way up the stairs, and once you got to your room, you plopped sadly down onto your plush carpet. 

Rafe tried to organize his thoughts and keep everything he needed to do in line. He’d surprised himself with how much responsibility he’d been able to handle after caring for you for so long. He certainly wasn’t the man he used to be. Every step he made now was for you. 

Still, he was beginning to realize just how much he relied on Lana, how much she had helped both of you. Now, it was all on him. Between packing business attire, sorting through important documents, confirming meetings, and delegating tasks to his employees, he also had to make sure his truck was ready for the road. And then there was you, your lunch had to be packed, along with plenty of snacks, your favorite water bottle adorned with pink bows, and a tablet with headphones to keep you entertained. More importantly, to keep you from overhearing the kinds of conversations he didn’t want you listening to.

He finally felt on top of things, Barry and his men had arrived, and the cars were readied in driveway. But the moment he climbed the stairs and stepped into your room, that sense of control vanished. His jaw tightened at the sight before him. You were sitting on the carpet in the poofiest pink dress you owned, tears streaking your cheeks as you fumbled with a ribbon, your small hands trembling in frustration as you struggled to tie a bow in your hair.

“Bambi, baby. We’re gonna be in the car for hours. It’s not dress up time,” Rafe chided. 

“Don’ wanna’ go,” You hiccuped. Looking around the room, Rafe saw no sign that you’d actually begun gathering anything for the trip, “Please.”

Rafe consciously took a deep breath to steady his heart rate. The last thing he wanted to do was take out his frustration on you when you were in this state. He walked over to your armoire and picked out an appropriate outfit for you. 

Sitting down on the carpet with you, Rafe easily grabbed you by your hips and pulled you into his lap, “What’s going on with you, huh?” Rafe asked, tilting your chin to look him in the eyes. He brushed a finger across your cheek, wiping away tears. 

You pouted in response and Rafe’s lips pressed into a thin line. He grabbed the thick tulle of your dress at your waist and started to pull it up your torso. You started to wiggle a but Rafe only pulled you closer, “Arms up, c’mon,” Rafe encouraged. He pressed down the urge to discipline, to become impatient at the fact that you were delaying their departure.  

Instead, he stripped the dress off in one swift motion, letting the poofy fabric pool beside you before reaching for the soft, light green Tinker Bell baby tee he’d picked out.

Sliding each of your arms through the sleeves, he tilted his head, studying you as he pulled the fabric down over your torso. "Are you too little to dress yourself today, Bambi?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. A theory was already forming in his mind, a quiet suspicion about what was really behind your unusual behavior.

You nodded shyly before laying forward, resting your head on his shoulder. “I see, hmm. You’ll need Daddy’s help then,” Rafe sighed, now fully understanding you were slipping into a younger head space. Instinctively, his hands smoothed over your back. For so long, you’d been determined to be independent, eager to explore the world, to make friends at ballet, to learn and grow on your own terms. He had been so focused on giving you freedom within the boundaries he set. He hadn’t considered how much comfort you might find in letting go completely. In regressing.

And now, here you were, seeking the security of his presence, of his care. Holding you tight in one hand, he reached into the pocket of his jeans. He texted Barry to give him twenty more minutes. He held you there for a few minutes longer and debated how he would coerce you into the car. 

“You want some bows in your hair, baby?” He asked after a moment and you nodded against his shoulder. He reached for the one you were fumbling with earlier, “Daddy’s gonna bring you to the bathroom, okay?”

He carried you to the bathroom, placing you on the cool counter as he tended to your hair. It wasn’t his best work but he managed to tie some ribbons around the two curly buns on top of your head, “Look, there’s my beautiful, baby,” Rafe kissed you on your forehead, then nose, then both of your cheeks, until you couldn’t help the small smile that formed on your lips, “Let’s get you ready. Don’t worry, Daddy will do everything.” 

He dressed you in a light, yellow tennis skirt with comfortable built-in shorts, the soft fabric swishing as he adjusted it on your hip. Packing a pair of converse in your bag, he let you remain in your flower-printed socks. He doubted you would get to the car in any other way than in his arms. 

Making sure you had things to do in the car and a few stuffed animals, he packed the rest of the things you needed, mostly outfits for the rest of weekend, into your suitcase. Satisfied that everything was in order, he zipped up your bright pink suitcase and set it aside. Now, all that was left was getting you to the car which, as he expected, would likely mean carrying you there himself.

When the two of you finally made it out of the front door, Rafe found Barry leaning against the hood of his SUV, “What’s the hold up?” Barry asked immediately, his sharp gaze flicking between Rafe and the way you clung to him.

Rafe was too focused, though. Without so much as a glance, he handed off your bright pink suitcase, dropping it into Barry’s hands with an unspoken expectation.

Rafe opened the passenger door, settling you into your seat and buckling you in. He placed a stuffed giraffe in your arms, making sure your water was in the cupholder, and you could reach your backpack. You looked up at him with sad eyes, your lips starting to tremble, “What is it?” Rafe asked, eyes full of concern. 

“Need Bunny,” you murmured, your voice small.

Of course, Rafe had forgotten the most important thing, your American Girl doll, “Where’d you leave her, baby?” 

When you only shrugged, Rafe sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Okay, stay here. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Closing the door securely, he rounded the truck, his stride purposeful as he shot Barry a glance. “We’re leaving in two minutes.”

Barry scoffed but didn’t argue, watching as Rafe disappeared back inside the house.

You awoke to Rafe opening the passenger door. Carefully, he slipped off your headphones before pausing the Disney movie that you were watching on your tablet. You started to stir as Rafe undid your seatbelt. You whined, “Let’s stretch those little legs, Bambi,” Rafe spoke softly in response, “We’re halfway there.” 

You yawned, reaching out to him, even half asleep. Rafe tried to explain gently that he wouldn’t be able to carry you in public. To keep you from having a full meltdown, he promised he wouldn’t let go of your hand. 

You swung your legs over the side of the seat and Rafe was able to help you slip on your shoes, tying your laces quickly. When you finally got to your feet, you were wobbly. Rafe smoothed out your skirt for you, ensuring it wasn’t riding up in the back, before he grabbed your hand. 

“Where..” You started, pausing as you rubbed your eyes with your free hand. 

“Gas station. Let’s go pick some snacks, yeah?” 

“Candy?” You perked up. 

“One candy,” Rafe agreed. 

You spotted Barry, filling up at the gas pump directly behind the one Rafe had parked at. You liked Barry, he was nice to you, even if he usually had harsh words with your Daddy. He flashed his gold tooth at you, offering a small wave, but you tucked your face into Rafe’s arm, hiding yourself. You felt overwhelmingly shy, still, despite know him well. 

Rafe held your hand as you stepped inside, your eyes taking in everything around you with wide, sleepy curiosity. The air inside the station was cool and the fluorescent lights flickered softly above.

The gas station was quiet, typical for this time of day, with just a few locals milling around, most of them grabbing their own snacks or paying for their gas.

You clung to Rafe’s hand, your fingers curled tight around his, your sleepy eyes still darting around the store. You weren’t quite sure where to look first. The shelves lined with brightly colored candy wrappers drew your attention, but so did the rows of chips and juice boxes.

He walked with you toward the candy aisle. You let go of Rafe’s hand for just a second, standing on your tiptoes to try and see the top shelf. There were so many choices but your eyes always came back to a package of gummy worms. Rafe stood behind you, his arms crossed, watching as you took your time. 

You finally picked up the bag and held it up to him, the smile on your face shy. You glanced back at the candy before you asked with a small, barely audible voice, “One for Barry?”

Rafe looked over at Barry through the glass windows, still pumping gas outside, “You want to get something for Barry?”

You nodded and something flickered in Rafe’s eyes, something dark, maybe anger or possessiveness, “Fine, you can pick one thing.” 

When you’d picked out another bag of gummy wors for Barry, you followed Rafe as he grabbed a large bottle of water and a bag of chips. After Rafe paid for everything with his black card, you followed him back through the parking lot. You looked up at Rafe expectantly as you approached the three vehicles all of you were traveling in. 

“It’s your gift, you give it to him,” Rafe said. His look of encouragement was slightly forced but he placed a small hand on your back, urging you forward, “Go, little girl. I’m right here.”

“Here,” you said quietly, when your hesitant steps finally brought you over to the Barry’s car. In the passenger seat, you saw a tall and muscular man that you didn’t recognize. You looked away from him quickly, focusing on Barry. You placed the bag in his hand.“Candy… for you.”

Barry looked down, clearly surprised, but his lips curled into a grin. “Well, look at that,” he drawled, “That’s mighty sweet of you. Thank you, Bambi.”

Rafe, standing off to the side, shot Barry a sharp look, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. 

You nodded, fingers curling around the edge of your skirt before you turned and walked back towards Rafe. With one last glance toward Barry, who was still standing by the SUV, Rafe slid his hand to the small of your back, guiding you back to the truck.

The Uptown Grand sits in the heart of Charleston’s historic district, a five-star hotel that exudes old-world Southern charm. The bustling energy of the high-end real estate development convention provided the perfect backdrop for your Daddy's plans. He didn’t seem to flinch at the curious glances from the occasional attendee who dared to acknowledge his entourage. To most, he was a shadow moving through the crowd, and to those few who did give him a second glance, his quiet authority was all too clear.

Rafe sat you on top of a stack of suitcases that sat on the luggage cart, keeping you out of the way, as he handled checking in to the opulent hotel. A song from the Little Mermaid played in your headphones as your eyes wandered everywhere, to the soft velvet curtains, polished marble floors, and all of the antique, gold chandeliers. In the center of the lobby was a large fountain that added an unexpected calm to the environment. You watched as men and women in impeccable business attire navigated the space, their footsteps purposeful, conversations hushed but intense.

You shifted slightly, taking it all in, feeling like a quiet observer in a world that wasn’t quite yours. Bringing you back down to earth, Barry offered you a gummy worm and you happily accepted, having ate all of yours hours ago. 

You tuned out as Rafe began to push the cart towards the elevator, walking along with Barry, they talked about business things that you didnt understand. You adjusted your headphones, looking down at the sorting game you’d been playing on your tablet. 

You rode on the cart all the way from the elevator to the hotel suite. Your room had double doors and sat at the end of the hallway. Barry was in the room right next door and you watched as Rafe spoke some parting words before you both entered your room. The door shut and Rafe swiftly helped you down from the spot where you were perched. Still enjoying your calming music, you walked around the room, setting your tablet down on the coffee table in the seating area. 

The furniture and decor was extravagant, even more so than at Tannyhill. High ceilings stretched above you and warm light casted golden hues on the room. You wandered further, into the bedroom, finding a king-sized bed dressed in soft looking sheets and a tufted headboard that stretched nearly to the ceiling. The en-suite, visible from the bedroom, featured those same marble floors from the lobby and gold fixtures. 

You were still taking it all in when you felt strong arms wrap around you, Rafe pulling your body into his. He tucked his head into your neck, placing kisses there, until you were giggling. When he loosened his grip, you turned to face him. He slowly lifted your headphones, grinning tiredly down at you, “It’s been a long day,” He said, “A bath and then it’s bedtime, okay?”

You didn’t argue, just melted against him. 

He lifted you, carrying you into the bathroom. You sat on the counter, swinging your legs idly, watching him with tired eyes as he ran the bath, testing the temperature with his hand. You watched him undress, your cheeks heating up at the sight of his sculpted figure. After he undressed you, the two of you slipped into the water. You settled between his knees, laying back against his chest. He arms curled around your middle and for awhile there was only silence. Just the rhythmic sound of water against porcelain, the steady rise and fall of his breath against your shoulder. 

When you were close to falling asleep, Rafe guided a soapy cloth over your skin, getting you clean. 

“Bambi,” Rafe spoke softly, “I have to tell you something.”

You hummed in response, loving the feeling of his gentle hands, “This weekend is very important to Daddy. You’ve already been a good girl but I need you to be Daddy’s perfect angel. Everything I say, or Barry says, you do. Do you understand?” 

“Mhm, Daddy,” You murmured, feeling his arms tighten around you in approval, “Can I ask somethin’?”

“Course, baby.”

“Wha…”  You tried to put your words together, choosing each one carefully, “Wha do you want from Mr. Sterling?”

Rafe went quiet for a moment. You turned your head to peak at him, “Everything, I think.”

“Everything,” You repeated, blinking up at him. 

“Mhm,” He presses a kiss to your temple, “Everything pretty and shiny. All the toy’s he doesn’t play with correctly. He’s sitting on a whole kingdom, doens’t even know how to run it. Doesn’t know how to take care of it.”

You scrunched your nose, thinking, “You’ll ask him for it?” 

“Something like that, baby,” Rafe’s lips twitched as if he was holding back a smirk, “Just gonna help him understand. Help him see things my way.”

“Daddy’s so smart,” You sighed, snuggling against him. 

Rafe hummed, pleased. “That’s right, angel,” he whispered against your hair. “And my baby’s gonna be extra good for me, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled sleepily. “I’ll be so, so good…”

hope you enjoyed!! a reblog w/ your thoughts would be much appreciated :)

[mrsbarnesblog]

obx p!links

+18 only, graphic content

masterlist

Rafe Cameron

xxx - best friend! Rafe convinced you to only rub his cock against your pussy but he couldn’t help himself

xxx - best friend! Rafe shows you how you should be treated when you come crying to him after your boyfriend cheated on you

xxx - Rafe makes you watch the way his cock stretches your pussy

xxx - college!gamer!Rafe fucks you with his mic on because you distracted him during the game

xxx - Rafe suggests driving you to work in the morning but instead ends up fingering you in the front seat of his truck

xxx - Rafe’s happy to eat you out at any time of the day

xxx - Rafe films the way you take his cock and sends it to your shitty ex

xxx - Rafe fucks you in your childhood bedroom when you visit your parents on holidays

xxx - enemy! Rafe teases your pussy with his cock until you can't do nothing but beg him to fuck you

xxx - personal trainer! rafe gives you backshots in the staff room

xxx - Rafe fucks you on the couch in the living room of Tanneyhill, even though his family is about to get back home any minute

xxx - riding your roommate’s dick just because you both single and it just feels to good

xxx - Rafe flies you out to Bahamas on his private jet and you fuck like a rabbit’s just because you can

xxx - yours and Rafe's first picnic date

xxx - your sneaking into your best friend’s brother’s room so he could fuck you while she’s taking a shower

xxx - fucking with Rafe during the party in someone else’s room

JJ Maybank

xxx - you and JJ sneaked away from the rest of the group so you could ride his cock

xxx - fucking JJ in a John B's van

xxx - JJ cannot be serious even when he’s balls deep inside of you

xxx - JJ fucks your brains out because he thinks that you were flirting with Topper at the party

xxx - your friend JJ likes to play with your pussy when you two hang out

xxx - grinding on JJ’s thigh because you’re too horny and he likes to watch you being desperate for his cock

Pope Heyward

xxx - you and Pope are having fun in an expensive ass hotel with a beautiful view on the beach

xxx - Pope finally fucks kook! reader who’s been teasing him for a few months

xxx - you give Pope his first blow job

xxx - Pope fucks you from the back while you choke on John B’s cock

Barry

xxx - Barry fucks you in the back seat of your car because you owe him some money

xxx - Barry has a soft spot for kook! reader so he likes to pound your pretty pussy in his trailer

xxx - Barry likes to use rich! kook! reader’s body

[cameronsbabydoll]

guys hear me outtttt rafe goes to barrys for something (i think we all know what!!) and he brings the reader with and he’s like fingering her while talking to barry and barrys like… ???? and rafe is just like yeah sorry hold on she’ll be done in a sec

anon your killing me rn. i need this to happen to me asap

barry opens the door, squinting at rafe like he already knows this visit isn’t going to be normal. and he’s right.

rafe is leaning against the frame, one arm draped lazily around your waist, the other buried between your thighs. you’re barely standing, knees weak, legs trembling—only rafe’s grip keeping you upright. his fingers press deep, curling just right, and a soft, choked whimper slips from your lips before you can stop it.

barry stares. “man, what the fuck.”

rafe doesn’t even look phased. he glances up, unfazed as his fingers keep working you open, slow and deliberate. “yeah, sorry, hold on—she’s almost done.”

barry just stands there while you teeter on the edge, your body hot and flushed, hips barely moving against rafe’s hand. barry drags a hand down his face, shaking his head.

“you’re fucked in the head, country club.”

rafe just smirks, eyes still on you. his fingers slip out, dragging slick along the inside of your thigh as he finally—finally—pulls his hand away. he licks his fingers clean, slow and purposeful, like he enjoys watching barry’s expression twist in pure disbelief.

barry shoves a bag into his chest, already done with this whole situation. “take your shit and get the fuck out.”

rafe just laughs, tugging you closer. “say bye, baby.”

you barely manage a breathy, “b-bye, barry,” before rafe is guiding you back toward the car, leaving barry standing in the doorway, shaking his head.

he knows rafe’s bringing you back.

[lostsyren]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kildare killer

{a/n: happy halloween! this was purely self indulgent but i hope you like it anyways! thanks for helping me with the suggestions of what rafe and sofia would dress up as! it helped a lot! this isn’t canon rafe, sofia and barry (since the writers decided to pretend barry doesn’t exist this season) but rather them from the world of my fic ‘ephemeral’ on ao3. if you haven’t read that, there will be a couple references you won’t get but it’s not important! anywhooo i hope u enjoy!}

{summary: rafe and sofia decide to spend halloween at barry’s trailer, where spookiness ensues}

⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾

It was Halloween in the Outer Banks and Sofia wanted to dress up, much to Rafe’s dismay. He’d let her choose the costume (after he’d suggested her be a playboy bunny and him be Hugh Hefner to which she slapped him across the arm), so she finally settled on Romeo and Juliet from the 1996 movie.

Descending from the swirling staircase at Tannyhill, Sofia hitched her flowing white dress up, her straightened hair falling just past her décolleté, feathery angel wings adorning her shoulder blades and her face shimmering with silvery glitter.

Rafe had put to use the suit of armour gathering dust in the hall, wearing the arm plates and chain mail along with his jeans and regular sneakers. He waited by the door for Sofia to get ready, impatiently tapping his foot feeling stupid in the costume. It was Halloween. That meant parties, drinking, getting wasted– not looking like a lanky tin man.

They were meant to be heading to Topper’s for his (in his own words) legendary Halloween rager. But Rafe wanted to stop by Barry’s first (he’d promised Kelce some weed). Although with the way Sofia was taking her time, maybe he’d have to skip the trip.

“Sof! How long you gonna be?” He called, swivelling around, his words cut short when he saw her float down the mahogany steps like a literal angel.

“Sorry! Had a bit of trouble getting the wings on.” She apologised, nearing him with a resplendent smile. Rafe just about managed to stop his jaw dropping.

“Wow…you look…beautiful.”

Sofia’s face lit up with joy, casting her in an even more heavenly glow.

“You don’t look too bad yourself Romeo.” She teased, nudging him gently. “It’s still crazy to me you just had a suit of armour just lying around– that’s like the kookiest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

“Oh shut up and come on, we’re already late.” Rafe wanted to throw an arm around her but the angel wings were in the way, so he opted to just slide a hand around her waist.

“You don’t mind if we make a stop at Barry’s do you?” He asked as they got into the car.

“Oh please, I don’t even want to go to Topper’s party, I just wanted a reason to dress up. And besides, I haven’t seen Barry in ages, I miss him.”

Rafe grumbled in the drivers seat, the annoyance at Sofia and Barry’s little friendship returning.

She just laughed, finding it funny to rile him up. “Rafe come on, you’re friends so why can I be his friend too?”

“You’re my friend– not his.”

“Oh so we’re friends now?”

“You’re not acting very angelic you know?”

“And you’re not acting very chivalrous.”

The continued to bicker playfully as they drove down to Barry’s trailer, Rafe’s eyes continually straying from the road just so he could see Sofia gleam in the half-darkness in the car, looking like a seraphic vision of beauty. On second thoughts, he didn’t mind the costume after all.

⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾

Sofia stepped out the car, the long grass ticking her feet, the sandals she was wearing not suitable for the switchgrass and weeds.

It was a strange feeling being back in the same place she was nearly kidnapped in, but oddly nostalgic too. There was something intoxicating about the warm light flooding out of Barry’s trailer, the smell of the sweet vernal grass faint in the air and the steady hum of the breeze and chirp of the crickets that evoked a stirring in her heart.

But this time there was the added smell of smoke, crackle of embers, and a heady glow emanating from behind Barry’s trailer that wasn’t there before.

Rafe and Sofia followed the floating ashes, to see Barry lounging in a lawn chair. He was nursing a fire that rose from an old steel drum, the ribbons from the joint he was smoking mixing with the thick plumes from the flames.

“Country club and Dora!” He yelled as a greeting, getting up out of the chair. Sofia rolled her eyes playfully at his nickname for her, poking fun at her inquisitive nature. Barry’s face grew in his signature smirk, golden tooth flashing in the firelight.

“Hey Barry,” Sofia smiled, as he grabbed her hand and held it up in the air, swirling her around in circle.

“Dora all dolled up huh?” She laughed as he wolf whistled, Rafe once again bristling in annoyance beside them.

“Ok ok that’s enough,” he tugged at Sofia’s wrist possessively.

“Romeo and Juliet huh? Didn’t know you were into Shakespeare Rafe?” Barry mused, as he bumped fists with him.

“It was Sofia’s idea.”

“I figured– so what can I do for y’all today? On this ol’ hallows eve? Got someone after you again?”

Rafe shifted his weight on to the other foot, gaze furtive and snappy, “no just, you know…”

Sofia eyed the two of them as they exchanged a silent passing of glances, clearly not saying whatever it is they wanted to say because of her presence.

She rolled her eyes, staring a her boyfriend with a disparaging expression. “Rafe I swear to god, if you’ve come here to for drugs I’m not going to that party.”

He groaned exasperatedly, annoyed she caught on as if he wasn’t being entirely unsubtle in front of her just now. “Fuck, look Kelce just wanted some weed ok.”

“No Rafe, tell him to get it himself. You’re not gonna act like some seedy dealer– no offence Barry.”

“None taken,” he held his hands up, smirking slightly as he watched the two of them argue, acting like it was prime reality TV.

Sofia crossed her arms, mouth thinning, “fine, if you do, I’m not going with you then,” she said, her ultimatum making Rafe cock his head to the side.

“Oh yeah? Where are you gonna go instead huh?”

“I’ll stay here with Barry. You don’t mind do you?” She asked, glancing over at him.

“Of course not– mi casa es tu casa.”

“What the fuck Barry help me out here.”

“Don’t look at me dawg– I’m just Switzerland.”

“Fine, we’ll both stay here, you happy now Sofia?”

“Very.” She huffed. Barry just continue to chuckle softly to himself, as Rafe dragged out two extra seats for them, and despite being angry, he still unfolded and set out the lawn chair for her.

The three of them sat in the cold October air, grateful for the crackling fire before them.

“You cold?” Rafe asked her, his suit of armour flickering like burning gold in the aureate light.

Sofia couldn’t stay mad at him for long, “I’m ok.”

“Well this feels very juvenile, campfire on Halloween? We just need some marshmallows.” Barry snickered.

“Or some beer.” Rafe grumbled.

“Sofia why don’t you go inside and get the six pack, then you can grab whatever you wanna drink from the fridge alright?” Barry suggested, knowing she didn’t like the taste of beer.

“Yeah ok.” So she got up, walking around to the trailer door, unable to make out what Rafe and Barry where whispering about as soon as she left– probably something illegal and unsavoury, she thought with a bitter scoff.

She returned a couple minutes later, handing over the pack to Barry, settling down in her seat between them, grateful for the circle of warmth. Perhaps wearing a skimpy dress in the middle of autumn wasn’t the best idea.

“So what were you both conspiring about?” She asked, opening her can with a soft hiss.

“Barry was just talking about the story of the Kildare Killer.” Rafe said with a nonchalant sip of his beer, eyes gleaming in the firelight.

“The what?”

Barry’s eyes shot up dramatically, “you don’t know about the Kildare Killer?”

“No…should I? I don’t like the sound of it.” Sofia also didn’t like the way Barry and Rafe had become solemn, their visage cast in fire and darkness, shadows stretching and straining across the planes and slopes of their faces.

“I keep forgetting you’re not from around here Dora…why don’t I let Rafe here begin the story– he loves true crime.” Barry goaded, to which Rafe responded with a dismissive middle finger.

“Rafe tell me,” She said, curiousity piqued, ignoring Barry’s teasing.

Rafe nodded slowly, licking his beer stained lips, “ok then, the story starts back in 1985–there was a drought that lasted all summer– the grass was all dead, the tanks all dried up; it was the hottest summer in North Carolina history. Well, small island like this, people left their windows wide open as they slept, tryna let in the cool night breeze.” Rafe explained Sofia nodding eagerly.

“Well one night, super dry, kinda like this one– the police were called. The cop cars pull up to the house– you can still visit it today actually, it’s not too far from here– and they hear screaming, the blood curdling type. The officers approach, scared shitless. it’s a small town, nothing bad ever happens, but in that moment, hearing that scream, they thought the worst.”

Barry, who’d been quietly listen to Rafe cleared his throat, “well the cops finally entered the house.”

Sofia turned to face him, listening intently.

“They notice nothin’ outta the ordinary, but then hear someone weepin’…they follow the cries down to the bedroom and see two girls, still dressed in their nightgowns being clutched by their mother, who’s cryin’ over them.”

Barry’s voice was low and raspy, Sofia having to lean in close so she could hear.

“It takes a while for the cops to notice, the room still dark, but they quickly realise the girls aren’t just sleepin’– they’re dead, their nightgowns covered in blood.”

Sofia’s eyes were like saucers completely entranced by the story.

“Turns out a patient from the metal asylum on the mainland escaped on the ferry to Kildare. He killed six girls that night, climbin’ in through their bedroom window and slitting their pretty throats. He got the death penalty, fryin’ in that chair on Halloween night. The legend round these parts goes that sometimes on all hallows eve, the Kildare Killer’s spirit comes back to haunt the islanders…he scours the streets, lookin’ for pretty girls in white dresses to make his seventh victim, waitin’ to come up behind and slit their throat.”

Barry smiled evilly, taking a swig of beer, eyeing Sofia who’s thus far been wholly transfixed on the story.

The goosebumps that splayed across Sofia’s skin faded away, rolling her eyes in disbelief, “you’re such a liar, stop trying to freak me out– that did not happen–“

She suddenly felt two large hands grip her sides, shaking her erratically, a bellowing yell “boo!” coming from behind her. Her nerves were already shot through from the boys’ stupid story, so a screeching scream instinctively spilled out her mouth as her body shuddered in terror. She nearly toppled out of her chair from the jump scare.

“Rafe!” She yelled, “that’s not funny!”

But Barry and Rafe clearly thought otherwise, erupting into a fit of laughter as Sofia was left reeling in the lawn chair, her heart beat wavering uncontrollably.

“Shittt Dora, you shoulda’ seen your face,” Barry grinned, laughing so hard he began tearing up.

Rafe’s arms wrapped around her bringing her into him, “sorry baby, we couldn’t help it.” He apologised with an impish grin, as Sofia tried to pry his hands off of her.

“Pinche pendejos,” she cursed, finally letting a small smile creep up on her.

Rafe shook her gently, his forearm hooked around her neck and face pressed against her own, with a honeyed laugh. Sofia’s hands trailed up to meet his, whilst Barry continued to chuckle, looking relieved that Sofia found it funny.

The three of them continued to laugh and talk late into the night, their faces illuminated by the ever burning fire as grey ropes of smoke swirled into the star peppered sky.

Eventually it got late enough that Sofia began to yawn, her eyelids growing heavy.

“You knockin’ out there Sofia?” Barry said, rolling up another joint with his soot stained fingers.

Rafe glanced over at his girl, curled up in the lawn chair, droopy face resting on her hand.

“Sof? You good?” He asked.

She blinked open her eyes, giving Rafe a dopey smile, “all good.”

“Yall can sleep over if you want, if you’re too drunk to drive.” Barry offered, lighting up his rolled paper with the flames from the fire.

“You sure Barry?” Sofia asked, not wanting to impose.

“Of course Dora, spare bedroom’s still yours.”

So that’s what they did. Rafe stripped out of his chain mail and armour, leaving it in the trunk of the car, in bed with just his T-shirt and jeans whilst Sofia slipped out of her angel wings, ready to just collapse right there with him.

Barry disappeared into his room a while ago, probably knocked out too– it was late after all, nearing midnight and they were all drunk and exhausted.

Sofia wrapped her sweater around herself, that she got from the car, pattering into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. The trailer was dark, only a solitary lamp left on, drenching the walls in a dull, orange glow. Sofia manoeuvred through the gloom and filled up a cup with water, eyes glossing over the window above the sink.

She was about to turn around and retreat back into the bedroom when she saw something move outside the kitchen window, a blur of darkness, like a shadow puppet flashing across the glass. Sofia froze, eyes glued on the screen, waiting to confirm what she saw. But the night was now still, everything unmoving. Sofia levelled her breathing, about to scurry back into the room to tell Rafe– he could go out and check– when a scraping sound rattled through the trailer as if someone was running their nails across the metal exterior.

“I swear to god guys stop messing around,” she called out, trying to sound intimidating. But if Rafe and Barry were in their rooms…who was outside?

The sound of the scratching began to get progressively louder, sending chills slithering down Sofia’s spine. She thought of that stupid story they told her earlier. It was Halloween night and she was still in a white dress…her heart froze in her chest as she attempted to level her breaths. At least the window was shut.

“Rafe,” she called out, his name coming out in a shaky warble. But he didn’t reply. Sofia set down her glass of water, about to dash back into the bedroom, when suddenly a hand slammed against the window, ghost-white palm splayed across the the grimy glass, the sound knocking the air out if her lungs. Sofia gasped as if a frigid wave of water had submerged her insides, her terror only increasing tenfold when the door to the trailer slammed open, too quick for her to turn to face the intruder. Before she knew it, their arms wrapped around her waist, a shrill scream of horror hurtling out of her oesophagus.

“Happy Halloween!” Her assailant whispered in her ear, Sofia turning around to see Rafe’s imposing figure envelope her completely.

“You’re such a jerk!” She cried out, untangling herself out of his caging grip. Barry followed his lead, entering the trailer a moment after.

“Shit Dora, you real jumpy aren’t you?”

“Yeah because of you two idiots,” she grumbled as Rafe draped an arm over her frame, Barry knocking a playful fist on her shoulder.

“Oh come on, you know you love us.” Rafe smiled, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead, as Barry continued to wheeze with laughter.

Sofia pushed passed the two of them, heading into the bedroom, “that’s it, next Halloween I’m saying at home.”

⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾

[rafesangelita]

Rafe x reader x Barry threesome??

warnings: dealer!rafe, arguing, threesome, dubcon, face sitting, oral (m & f. receiving), barry is so sleazy in this

“this isn’t all my money, country club.” barry ran a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. rafe was quick with his response, an uneasy feeling settling over you. “look, there’s a party tomorrow night back on figure eight, if you could lend me something to flip i’ll have the rest of your paper, plus interest, alright?” barry shook his head, feeling for the gun he had in the waistband of his shorts.

rafe’s eyes traveled down to where the metal glinted under the dim light of barry’s trailer. “come on, man, i got my girl here.” your boyfriend took a seat next to you, pulling you into his side. “calm down with the gun, barry, forreal.” you glanced up, only to see rafe’s business partner already looking at you. “i got bills to pay, rafe, and i need to collect.” he sat back in his chair, a smirk forming on his lips.

“you didn’t tell me your girl was so pretty.. what is that? ‘that lace?” you looked down at your stockings that peeked out from under your skirt, nodding as rafe fixed your bottoms so barry couldn’t look at you anymore. “just let us leave from here and we won’t have any problems, i’ll bring you your money asap and we could go on with our business.” rafe wanted nothing more than to gouge barry’s eyes out of his skull for looking at any other part of you besides your face.

“m’afraid i can’t do that, country club.” rafe scoffed, getting up from the dingy couch before pulling you up with him. “fuck you, man, we’re outta here. c’mon, baby—” barry chuckled, “i wouldn’t do that if i were you, unless you want to be gunned down as soon as you open that door. ‘would be a shame if your little girlfriend was left here all by herself..” you shivered at his words, both you and rafe exchanging looks.

“do you fuckin’ hear yourself? i told you i don’t have the rest of your money, barry. what do you want?” rafe watched as barry’s eyes moved over to you, basically sizing you up as he motioned his head in your direction. “her.” rafe stared blankly at the man in front of him, the gears in his head turning. “i could kill you right now.” you swallowed nervously, eyeing rafe as his face began to redden.

“yeah? so could i.” your heart dropped when you heard the metal click of barry’s gun. “no!” you cut in, both men zeroing in on you. “there’s no need for that.. barry.” rafe looked confused as you got closer to him, “please don’t do that.” you met rafe’s gaze, your own eyes brimming with tears. “i’m not letting this fucker touch you—” he grabbed your wrist pulling you back before barry could do anything.

“he said he was going to shoot you!” you whispered, nearly losing your footing. rafe knew barry wasn’t playing, he’d do anything if money was involved, even if that meant killing his partner. “just let him, rafe..” your voice broke rafe’s heart in two, the look on your face forever ingrained in his brain. “no.” he shook his head. you turned towards barry anyways. “i’ll do it, but only under one condition.”

both men waited with uneven breaths. “rafe has to join us.” at your words, barry glanced at your boyfriend behind you. “fuck no.” he got up, about to reach for you before rafe got in the way. “i can’t do it without him.” you shook your head, hiding behind rafe. barry huffed, shooting daggers in rafe’s direction. “fine.” you clung to rafe’s arm, a chill running down your spine as barry motioned both of you towards the hallway.

“after you.”

if someone told you, you’d be sitting on barry’s face while rafe shoved his cock down your throat as a solution for missing payment, you wouldn’t believe them. “son of a bitch, you’re one lucky bastard, country club. she’s so fucking sweet.” both you and rafe ignored barry’s words, a groan rumbling from rafe’s chest when he felt you swallow around him. your hips moved languidly against barry’s mouth, the tip of his nose nudging your clit.

in a way this wasn’t so bad. with barry underneath you, and your view only being rafe’s pleasure filled face, it was easy to pretend like the man wasn’t even there. since you didn’t let barry take you the way he wanted to, he settled for fucking his fist while eating you like a man starved. you couldn’t deny the way barry’s tongue worked skillfully on your soaked cunt, but it was nowhere near as good as the way of your boyfriend’s.

you looked down when you felt barry’s bruising grip on your thigh, a whimper leaving your lips at the pain. rafe swore to himself he was going to punch barry when he least expected it as pay back for hurting you. softly tugging on the roots of your hair, rafe mumbled a ‘keep your eyes on me, baby’ as he felt himself nearing his climax. “fuck..” barry grunted, spilling his load in his hand while working to make you cum on his tongue.

you cried out when barry sucked your clit, your hips stuttering as your orgasm hit you in waves of ecstasy. rafe followed suit, his jaw going slack as he painted the inside of your mouth with his cum, his fingertips threading themselves in your hair to keep you in place. swallowing rafe’s load was second nature to you and it drove him crazy. you sighed through your nose, rafe moving your mouth off of his cock.

he quickly pulled up his jeans, adjusting his belt before pulling you off of barry’s face. “there, asshole. you don’t get to relish in it afterwards.” your legs were still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your boyfriend dressing you as barry laid there on his bed. he looked like he was coming down from the best high he ever had, even licking the remnants of you from his lips. “you okay?” rafe cupped your face, stroking your chin. “mhmm.” you hummed, ready to get out of barry’s trailer already.

“consider yourself debt free.” barry sat up, “but next time you’re short, i’m fucking her.”

[rubiehart]

cockwarming bestfriend jayj would just be so ughhhhhhhhhh. you’re both a little past the point of tipsy, having slipped away together from the kegger back to the chateau, legs tangled together in the hammock as you watch jj slowly inhale the joint he still managed to roll pretty well even in his intoxicated state. his eyes flutter closed as he sucks in the smoke and reaches over to place it between your fingers as he blows it out, too focused on the way the smoke clouds his face and then disappears, blue eyes trained on your figure, raking up your bare legs and ending on your face.

you blink away the thought and bring the joint to your lips and inhale deeply, looking into his eyes as your hold the smoke in your mouth, not too sure what this eye contact meant from his end but you knew exactly why you were doing it, the reason evident as you feel your cotton panties dampen a little, choosing to ignore it as he reaches his arms up behind his head and groans, stretching his legs out and his foot nudges your leg to get your attention.

you rip your eyes away from his for a second, your high clearly taking over your actions, grinning at jj as he knits his brows together, a little smirk laying on his rubied lips, tonguing the little cut on his bottom lip as he watches your frame. you pass him the joint and he takes another long hit, coughing a little when you start crawling up his body, situating yourself on his lap. he reaches one hand to hold your waist as his eyes widen. “oh- hey, watch’a doin?” you just smile and giggle as you reach down to capture his lips in a kiss.

he groans into your mouth and releases the smoke he’d been holding. you start to slowly grind on him, little whines of pleasure leaving your lips as he winds his tongue with yours, kissing you back as desperately as you. pulling away for a second and using his thumb to wipe away a string of saliva from your lip while you look at him all big eyed. “jayj..” you whisper before he nods, as you fumble with the buttons of his cargo shorts, pushing them down his thighs until his boxers are exposed, flicking your eyes up to see his dilated pupils and parted lips, the joint still between his ring-clad fingers.

he brings it to your lips as you pull down his boxers, his rock hard cock standing up, his mushroom tip leaking precum. he groans, eyes widening when he sees you unbutton your tiny denim shorts you’d been teasing him with all night, slipping them down your legs to reveal your little cotton panties, biting your lip and looking up at him whilst slipping them to the side, the weed seemed to give you some new found confidence, and maybe the way jj was looking at you “jesus fuckin’ christ..” he mumbles at the sight of your glistening cunt in the moonlight, prepping your hands on his chest, lifting yourself up.

“hey, hey, hey. a-are you sure?” he asks, panicked at your sudden confidence as you nod eagerly. “are you?” you giggle, still hovering over his cock. “fuck yeah.” he grins as you finally sink down, hissing at the stretch, his eyes transfixed on your face the whole time, your tiny pussy stretching around his dick making him groan, your face comforting and whining when he’s about halfway in, him grasping both hands to your hips after putting the blunt out on the bark and dropping it to the dirt. “shhh.. you got it, yeah?” you nod slowly, teeth sinking into your lip as your resist the pain, stroking your hip with his thumb softly. “good, goooood girl. there ya’ go.” the praise sliding off his tongue so casually making you clench around him. finally getting to the hilt and he lets out a huff.

“feel so fuckin’ good..” he whimpers, as you roll your hips a little to get used to the feeling making him let out a pornographic groan. “you’re so big..” you whisper, leaning down to rest your head in the crook of his neck, feeling the stubble on his chin against your forehead as he breathes deeply. “keep talkin’ like that and i’ll fuckin’ bust.” he whispers into your hair making you giggle a little, leaving a little love bite on his neck and he reaches down to cup your ass, kneeding the fat of it in his palms as you roll your hips gently, making him suck in a breath. “fuck..you’re gonna kill me baby.”

[littlelamy]

i luv shopaholic reader🛍️how about when she comes back him from a long day of shopping she makes rafe sit down and look at everything she got bonus if barry happens to be there😭

a/n: i am happy you love her! i was so scared to write out the ask so i feel so much better know so many people like shopaholic reader! 😝thank you for sending a request 🤍

you push open the door with a grin, arms heavy with bags from your long day out. the living room lights cast a warm glow, and you spot rafe lounging on the couch, his long legs stretched out, one arm lazily draped over the backrest. barry is there too, slouched next to him, probably running his mouth as usual.

rafe’s eyes land on you immediately, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. "well, well, look who’s back," he drawls, glancing at the mountain of bags in your hands. "how much damage did you do today?"

you step into the room, dropping your bags with a dramatic sigh. "enough," you tease, leaning down to start rummaging through your purchases. "and now you get to sit here and admire all the amazing things i got."

barry chuckles from the other side of the couch. "oh, this should be good. let’s see what you got for pretty boy over here."

rafe rolls his eyes, shifting in his seat. "barry, shut up."

you pull out the first item, a sleek black dress that you’re particularly excited about, holding it up against your body and giving a little twirl. "so… what do you think? date night material?"

rafe’s gaze darkens, his eyes raking over you slowly. "definitely. though i’d prefer if you weren’t wearing anything at all."

you toss the dress at him, heat creeping up your cheeks. "behave."

rafe catches the dress, his smirk widening as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "come here and i might."

barry snickers. "damn, she’s got you real bad, huh?"

ignoring barry, you pull out a pair of shoes next. "these? i bought just because i knew they’d drive you crazy."

rafe’s eyes flick down to the strappy heels, and you can see the flicker of approval in his gaze. "put ‘em on."

"you wish." you flash him a playful smile, slipping the heels back into the box. "maybe if you’re good."

barry throws his head back, laughing. "this is better than i thought. i’m staying."

rafe’s eyes narrow at barry, but he turns his attention back to you, a more dangerous edge to his voice. "you really gonna make me sit here and watch you play dress-up all night, or are you gonna come over here and give me a real show?"

you walk closer, your eyes locking with his, the tension crackling between you. "a real show, huh?" you lean down just enough so that your lips are inches from his. "what do i get out of it?"

rafe’s hand moves to your waist, pulling you the rest of the way until you're sitting in his lap. "you’ll get more than you can handle."

barry rolls his eyes. "okay, i’m outta here before it gets x-rated."

you laugh, but the sound fades as rafe's hand slides up your thigh, his lips brushing against your ear. "now, show me what else you bought, or i’ll lose interest real fast."

you smirk, giving him a teasing look. "oh, i don’t think you’re gonna lose interest anytime soon."

taglist (if you want to be added comment below): @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @wniektty

[love4pascal]

SMAU: Instagram posts with bsf!Rafe: Part three!

Rafe x Pogue bsf!reader

An: OMG we’ve made it to part three?? I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is appreciated 🩵🤍.

TAGLIST: @justsomerandompersonintheworld

[rafessecret]

⋆˚࿔ trailer¡park reader && rafe cameron

TOO DUMB TO THINK.

The air is thick with smoke, hazy tendrils curling through the dimly lit room, clinging to your skin, seeping into your lungs. The couch beneath you is worn, springs digging into your back as Rafe fucks you into it, each brutal thrust shoving you deeper into the cushions. Your body feels weightless, boneless, a pliant thing made only for his use. Everything is slow, syrupy, your mind slipping between the cracks of consciousness, drowning in the pleasure he forces on you. Your limbs are slack, useless, your mouth parted in a silent moan, eyes heavy-lidded and unfocused as you stare at the ceiling, watching the smoke swirl above you.

Barry leans against the doorframe, a blunt dangling from his lips, watching like he’s studying a piece of art. The ember glows as he inhales, the scent mixing with the musk of sweat and sex. His eyes are hooded, dark, flickering between where Rafe splits you open and the ruined expression on your face. He exhales slowly, smoke pouring past his lips, lazy amusement curling at the edges of his mouth. ❝Fuck, man, she’s just a dumb little slut for you, huh?❞ His voice is thick, dripping with something that makes your stomach clench, makes your thighs tremble where they’re spread wide, forced open by Rafe’s unforgiving grip.

Rafe laughs, the sound sharp, teeth flashing in the dim light as he drags his fingers down your spine, pressing into your skin like he wants to leave bruises, wants to mark you from the inside out. ❝You don’t know how good she is until you’re the one making her scream, Barry.❞ His voice is rough, strained, pleasure thick in every syllable. His hips snap forward, burying himself to the hilt, making you jolt, making your back arch, a wrecked whimper spilling from your lips. You’re so far gone, teetering on the edge of oblivion, floating in the space between pleasure and nothingness, between reality and something dreamlike, something deeper.

Barry exhales another cloud of smoke, the glow of the blunt flickering as he grins, sharp and knowing. ❝She looks like a fuckin’ doll, man. You see how pretty she is like this? All fucked out and dumb for you? ❞ He steps closer, the heat of his presence pressing against your skin, making your lashes flutter. His knuckles brush over your cheek, slow and deliberate, his touch light but condescending. ❝Are you even still in there, doll? Or did Rafe already fuck you stupid? ❞

Your lips part, a breathless sound escaping, but no words come, only the softest whimper, the barest acknowledgement that you can still hear them, still feel everything, even if you can’t move, can’t think, can’t do anything but take what Rafe gives you. Barry chuckles, dragging the blunt across his lips before tapping ash onto the floor, like this is nothing more than some casual conversation, like you aren’t laid out, trembling and wrecked between them.

Rafe grips your chin, forcing your head back, making you look at him, his pupils blown wide, sweat beading at his temples, golden skin glowing in the dim light. ❝Still with us, sweetheart?❞ His voice is sweet and teasing, but there’s a cruel edge to it, a twisted sort of satisfaction in the way you struggle to focus, to hold onto the fraying threads of lucidity. He leans down, his lips brushing against yours, but he doesn’t kiss you, just lets his breath fan over your mouth, lets you chase the contact, lets you beg without words. ❝God, you’re so fucking pretty like this. Can’t even fight it, can you? ❞ You shake your head, or at least you think you do, but your body doesn’t really belong to you anymore. It belongs to them. To him. To the hands that grip you too tight, to the mouths that spill filthy words into your ears, to the eyes that devour every little reaction you give, drinking it up like something sacred.

Barry hums, the sound low, appreciative. ❝She’s fuckin’ ruined, man. You got her trained real good. ❞ He drags his fingers over your parted lips, pressing them into your mouth, watching as your tongue flicks out instinctively, your body moving on autopilot, doing whatever they want without hesitation. ❝Bet she’d let you do anything to her right now.❞

Rafe groans, his pace stuttering for half a second before he doubles down, thrusts rough and punishing, pulling wrecked sounds from your throat, your hands clutching at the cushions, searching for something solid in the mess of sensation. ❝She’s already let me,❞ he mutters, mostly to himself, his voice wrecked, his grip tightening. ❝Fuck, baby, you feel too fucking good. Can’t get enough of you. ❞

The heat builds again, sharp and all-consuming, sparking behind your eyes, curling in your gut. You whimper, thighs trembling, body tensing, the pleasure too much, too overwhelming. Rafe feels it, curses under his breath, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin. ❝Are you going to cum for me, baby?❞ His voice is hoarse, ragged, desperate. ❝Gonna make a fuckin’ mess all over me?❞ Barry watches, grinning, his gaze locked onto the way you fall apart, the way you shatter, moaning and trembling, your body wracked with pleasure, boneless beneath Rafe’s unrelenting pace. ❝That’s it, baby,❞ Barry murmurs, voice low, smug. ❝Give him a fuckin’ show.❞

And you do. You unravel, pleasure crashing over you in waves, leaving you spent, ruined, floating somewhere between reality and something far more dangerous. Rafe groans, burying himself deep, chasing his own high, his breath hot against your ear as he spills inside you, claiming you in every way that matters. The room spins, the smoke thick, the weight of their gazes still heavy on your skin. Barry takes another drag, exhales slowly, watching you through the haze. ❝Shit, man,❞ he drawls, flicking the last of his blunt into an empty bottle. ❝She’s a fuckin’ dream.❞

── ⋆ 𝐲𝐚𝐩 : just something filthy and fun <3 hope u enjoy, mwah !! trying to get through anon requests soon, I promise !! also… what do we think about Barry being involved? be honest 

── ⋆ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 : @scne-vampire

©RAFESSECRET ⋆˚࿔ est. 2025

[harryspet]

the island program | r.cameron

[warnings] dark!gray!rafe cameron x addict!reader, billionaire!rafe, obsessive rafe, pogue!reader, sober!rafe, rafe has a private island, rafe and reader with established relationship, kidnapping, descriptions of s ubstance a buse & withdrawal, praise kink, dom/sub dynamic, mental health themes, stockholm syndrome, rafe controls everything, spanking, DUBCON

a/n: I really wanted to write Rafe taking you to his private island :)

divider credit: @/h-aewo

In which the cure for your cravings is a softer life, a secluded island, and Rafe’s personal brand of discipline.

word count: 5.9k

rafe cameron masterlist

Rafe hadn’t heard from you in three weeks. He completed his important meetings, signed million-dollar contracts, and immediately tried to get in contact with you. You were always on his mind even though he was never on yours. He’d texted you about fifty times. No reply.

He’d gotten you that expensive phone so you could call if you needed help but you’d never used it when it was an actual emergency. You didn’t call him when you needed to be bailed out. You didn’t call him when you needed a ride from the bar. So stubborn. You’d walk the eight miles back to your motel room in heels. He was starting to believe you were doing this to spite him. 

You did call him, however, when you needed money for drugs. Rafe went in circles with you. You’d shun him when he didn’t give in. When he offered you shelter and let you get high within the safety of his expensive condo, you stole from him. 

It wasn’t always like this. At one point, you actually wanted help. That’s how you and Rafe met. A narcotics anonymous meeting in a church basement that smelled like mildew and cigarettes. It took him two years to actually get clean and that was thanks to the meetings, his sponsors, and his determination to finally fulfill his father’s wishes for his future. He relapsed about three times but now he had been clean for an entire year.

He thrived now. Without the influence of mind-altering substances, he could actually make good business deals. He could make a real future for himself. He grew up lucky but he wouldn’t waste that privilege any longer. He had crawled out of the hole and hoped you would follow behind him. 

Except you didn’t grow up as lucky as Rafe. He thought he was good for you. He recognized the sadness in your eyes. He knew what it felt like when the world was against you. Rafe often took what he wanted but he took his time with you. You needed a sponsor but sponsoring someone required a lot of trust. If you were any other girl, he would’ve devoured you whole. Your soft skin. Big, beautiful, tired eyes. Plump and raspberry-colored lips. Long curls that defied gravity, never tamed by a hair tie. Your uniform usually consisted of a pair of jean shorts and a worn hoodie that swallowed your frame. 

The first time he actually talked to you was outside of the Marlin Mart, after filling up his truck with gas. He wandered into the store for soda and a pack of gum but walked into a chaotic scene. The gas station owner had you by your wrist, shouting curses at you, while you tried to pull away from him, “Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe intervened quickly, “Let her go, man!”

“She’s a thief!” You twisted in his grip, eyes wild, defiant, like a cornered animal ready to bite. “Let me see what's in your pockets!” 

“I don’t have anything, old perv! Let me go!” You shouted back. 

“Let her go,” Rafe said again, placing a strong hand on the man’s chest, commanding, pushing him back, “Calm down, I’m paying for her.”

The man argued, of course, but Rafe talked him off the ledge. When Rafe turned back to you, he gave you a warning look. C’mon, I’m helping you not get arrested, he wanted to say. You gave in a moment later. You emptied your pockets. A bag of skittles, potato chips, and a can of Modelo. Rafe took in a breath, taking the items in his hands, and walked over to the gas station counter. 

You spoke to him the first time when Rafe found you outside, leaning against a tall ice box, “You didn’t have to do that.” 

Rafe gave you your items, wondering you were hungry and this was your sad excuse for a meal, “I’m Rafe, I’ve seen you at a few meetings.” 

You didn’t give away whether you really recognized him or not. It didn’t matter, Rafe had already memorized the details of your face. You could brush him off but he’d find a way to talk to you again. He wanted to know you. 

“Hmm,” Was all you said. 

“If you want a real meal, I could take you to the Wreck. We could talk about the program, and you know, recovery.”

“I don’t put out for gas station food and burgers,” When you rolled your eyes, sticking your hands in your jacket pockets, Rafe’s lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I’m not – not trying to be shady. It’s just been awhile since I’ve met someone under the age of thirty who’s in recovery. Just trying to be nice. It’s on me, you don’t have to give me anything in return.”

You used to look at Rafe like he was an alien. Like no one from his side of the island had ever spoken a kind word to you. You didn’t trust him. Rafe wasn’t sure if you knew how to trust anyone. Later, the two of you talked over bowls of hot gumbo. Well, Rafe did most of the talking. He talked about how hard it’s been maintaining his sobriety, how much he’s grateful for the sponsor that practically saved his life, and how much more control he feels over his life. 

Rafe always like control. It just took him so long to realize how much chaos all of the alcohol and blow were bringing to his life. He saw something spark in your eyes, a glimmer of something real, but it went away quickly. 

At the end of the lunch, you leaned across the table, a wicked smile on your lips, “I bet you know where the Kooks like to party. I’ve never tried any expensive shit. Maybe we could get fucked up tonight.” 

You hadn’t been listening. Not really. But he understood why. He would help you get to the other side of your problems. You were too beautiful to leave to your own demons. Rafe could save you. 

He should’ve known that you’d disable your location services. It slowed him down but Rafe had prepared for this. He had informats. Other druggies that would keep eyes on you and snitch on the dealers who sold to you. Sheriff deputies that gave him a call whenever you got booked into the county jail. 

He tracked you down to a motel, someone had seen you enter a room with some lowlife guy last night. They were lucky to have disappeared before Rafe arrived. Rafe couldn’t even count on two hands how many sleazy guys had to injure to the point of hospilization because he found them on top of you while you were out of it or because they had sold you something. 

Rafe knew you were starting to hate him. He could take the hate. As long as you were alive. 

Surprisingly, you weren’t passed out when he found you. You opened the door when he knocked. He could smell that you were newly showered, your hair freshly washed, but Rafe quickly spotted the remnants of last nights “fun” sitting on the nightstand. You were wrapped in a robe, a mascara wand in your hand, your makeup half done. 

“Who paid for the room? I know it wasn’t you.”

An eye roll, of course, “I have more sugar daddies than you, Rafe.”

“I’m not–” He stopped himself from arguing, “What are you getting ready for?”

“None of your business,” You turned away, marching towards the bathroom, “You worry so much.”

Rafe followed, standing in the doorway. He watched the way your hands trembled as you tried to paint your eyelashes. The tremors were new. Things were getting bad. How were things getting worse when his leash had tightened so much?

“Y/N,” Rafe said, tired, exhausted, “I want to help you.”

“And I never asked for your fucking help,” You said although Rafe knew you didn’t mean it, “I’m going away for a while. Gonna get out of your hair.”

His fingers tightened around the wooden trim of the door frame, “With who?”

“Always with the questions,” Even now, you were beautiful. Even with bloodshot eyes and track marks on your skin, “You can’t stop me.”

“I can. I have before. I’ll tie you down to the bed and stop you from hurting yourself.”

“What if I told you I was going to get help?” You looked at him and Rafe knew you were lying. All you did was lie, “My friend knows about this new treatment program. I’ve done every program this entire state has to offer. She’s gonna drive me there.”

“And you need mascara for rehab?”

“Anyways, it’s in Florida. Gonna make it a little road trip. You should be happy for me. I’m finally listening to you.”

“If you go, you’ll probably get yourself killed in a few weeks.”

“Fuck you, Rafe.” The mascara hit the sink with a clatter. You turned, fists flying at his chest. He let you. When the hits got harder, more frantic, he caught your wrists, then your waist. You weighed less than the last time this happened. You always forgot to eat when you were using.

He sat you on the edge of the bed, pinning your thighs when you tried to kick. It was nothing. Rafe was all muscle, all control. You were all bones and smoke.

“Ugh,” you groaned, still struggling, “What do you want, huh? I can do this on my own.”

“You can’t,” Rafe said, feeling like a broken record, “Come home with me. I’ll take care of you.” 

Rafe felt some of the tension in your body melt away, your shoulders sagged, and you let out a breath. You were considering it, he thought. Maybe you’d finally grown exhausted too. He loosened his grip and fixed his blue eyes on yours, “Hey, I’m serious,” He continued, “You need sleep and an actual meal. I promise there will be no hospitals, no doctors, just you and me.”

“Rafe,” You whispered weakly. He saw a glimmer of that innocent side he knew was inside of you. A little girl begging to be taken care of and loved, “I see the way you look at me…”

“What way do I look at you?” Rafe noticed it though he didn’t give it away in his eyes. Your legs parted slightly, your head tilted to the side as you looked him over. Your eyes became playful. 

“Like you think I’m pretty …. even like this.”

“I do,” Rafe said, his voice deep and sure, “I think you’re beautiful, Y/N.” 

“You can have me. You can have it.”

“Y/N-“

“I know you want to. I’d play nice. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

You smiled. Rafe’s heart was breaking in his chest. 

“And you’d want something in return,” Rafe spoke knowingly. You parted your lips to argue but Rafe continued. He stood tall, towering over your figure, “You think I couldn’t have already taken that from you if that’s all I wanted? It wouldn’t be hard even if you didn’t play nice. You’re weak. You’re fucked up every time I see you. Sad thing is, you’d probably let me do it over and over again if that meant you could score.” 

His voice hardened. The words landed like punches. And still, you didn’t look away.

“Stop,” That was all you managed. 

“That’s not all I want, Y/N. I want all of you. I want you safe. Clean. Sober. I want you to fucking listen to me not because you’re looking for your next fix. I want you to listen because I’m the one who gives a shit. Who’s going to give you everything you need. Guidance. Structure. Love. All of it.” 

You shook your head. You probably stopped listening in the middle of his rambling, “I don’t deserve that.”

“I’ll tell you what you deserve,” Rafe let out a breath. His rough hands nervously roamed over his shirt, buzzed hair, “Get your shit together. You’re not going to fucking Florida. If you don’t want me to have your friend arrested for possession then you’ll pack your shit and get in my truck.” 

You stood, shoulders squared like you wanted to fight, but you were shaking again. You’d burned through whatever energy you have left. You were hollow. Empty. Rafe could see it.

“You want to own me,” you spat, but the words lacked conviction. 

“I already have you, angel. That’s what I can’t get you to understand.”

That night, Rafe gave you another chance. Took you home. Let you put yourself together. Fed you until you were sick. It was routine. You relaxed, laughed a little, told him scraps of what you'd been through. You always smiled through the shame. You fell asleep against his chest during some movie neither of you were watching. He carried you upstairs. You probably hadn’t slept in three days.

The banging woke him up just after dawn. You were gone.

He moved downstairs, groggy and shirtless, drawstring pants hanging low on his hips. The banging was frantic. He opened the kitchen drawer and took out the syringe Barry gave him. He’d practiced. He was ready.

Rafe held the full syringe at his side as he approached the front door. There you were, wild and furious. “You locked me in? Open the door, Rafe! I’m serious, I can’t do this. Please,” Your eyes wandered down to his right hand, hanging by his side, “What’s that?”

Rafe slowly closed the distance between you. The rest had given you some of your strength back. Even as you scratched at his arms, Rafe kept you pinned to the door, “Rafe! Don’t! Please!” You screamed, tears in your eyes. 

He shushed you as the needle finally pricked the side of your neck. Your eyes were wide and sad, “It’s okay, baby. I got you,” Your eyelids started to droop and you pushed at him weakly. Rafe caught you when your legs finally gave out, “It’s okay, just sleep. I’m gonna take care of you.”

You sat up too quickly. You were going to be sick. Your seatbelt kept you in place. You squeezed at the soft, italian-leather of your seat. You tried to get your bearings. Your lips parted. You thought you were talking but your voice came out in a moan. 

You sat back, your body was weak, your head lolled to the side. A window. Clouds. A blue ocean. Your eyes fluttered until they were wide open, “Easy,” A familiar voice said. 

“What did you do?” Your voice cracked. You tugged at your seat but your fine motor skills were practically useless. You were so foggy. Not in the way you usually felt when you were coming down or withdrawing. That needle. He’d knocked you out. On purpose. “What the fuck did you do?”  

He was calm. Calmer than he’d ever been. 

“It was the only way. You were hysterical yesterday. And you haven’t been in your right mind for a long time,” You shook your head, “I made a decision. And you’re gonna hate me for awhile. But this is gonna be good for you. For us, too.”

You’d really done it this time. This was your fault. Why did you have to show the most unhinged side of yourself to him?

You were so angry at him. If you were honest with yourself, it wasn’t because you were sitting on his private jet, going to a foreign place. It wasn’t even because you actually hated him. It was because you knew that Rafe wasn’t going to let your skin touch another heroin needle, let your lips taste another sip of alcohol, or let you smoke another joint to mellow your withdrawal symptoms. 

Fuck, you thought. Fuck. Fuck. 

Despite the warnings from his business partners about the futility of the tiny island of Isla Brisas, five hundred miles from the Ecuadorian coast, Rafe had proved them all wrong. There was no long-lost treasure, but his plan had not led to Cameron Development's bankruptcy as they had predicted. Not only had his men found gold, but there was a good chance that the parts of the island that had yet to be explored would yield similar findings. 

His secret project. No one would ever disturb the two of you. No one would even be looking for you, he knew that. But he wanted you to feel like it was only the two of you in this world. No one on the island would consider helping you. The closest piece of civilization was thirty miles away on the Galapagos islands. 

The villa was tucked between a grove of palm trees. The backyard stretched into the soft slope of a green hillside. The front of the house had a winding, stone path that led to an infinity pool before a five-minute walk shaded by tropical trees took you to a private beach. White sand sparkled underneath the sun, kissed by turquoise waves.. 

There were no fences. No barbed wire. No obvious guards. But inside there were rooms with locks that clicked shut when he pleased. Windows that let in the sun during the day but provided blackout privacy at night. Staff that were local. Silent. Loyal. Bought. 

The first two weeks on the island happened in a blur. The bed was massive, the sheets always cool, even though your skin was often on fire. If you weren’t sleeping for hours at a time then you weren’t sleeping at all. You threw up everyday. Rafe was usually there, holding your hair, rubbing circles on your back. You begged him everyday to stop letting you suffer, to help you feel better. 

“I am making you better,” He’d always say. The only drugs he gave you helped your sleep and nausea, they didn’t get you high, and a week into the nightmare, he starting giving you something for the depression and anxiety. The depression was probably the worst symptom. 

He carried you from the bed, to the bathroom, and to the bathtub. He brushed your teeth, detangled your hair, and changed your clothes. You fought him in the ways that you could. It didn’t matter. Rafe did what he wanted. You kept trying to hate him.

One morning, you finally had the strength to pick yourself off the bed. You looked down at your hands and legs. Some of the bruising on your inner arms had started to fade, some had scarred. You could already tell there was more meat on your bones. Your stomach didn’t ache with hunger. You smoothed your hand down over your dress. The yellow night gown was light-weight, smooth and your fingers traced over the lacy floral designs that decorated it. It barely reached the middle of your thigh. And you were sure you’d never worn anything like this. You’d never worn anything this nice. Nothing so…delicate. 

You wobbled towards the master bathroom. It was so big that even your steps seemed to echo. You gasped when you saw your appearance. Tentatively, you touched the skin of your face, unsure that it was really yours. You looked brighter, your eyes were no longer sunken in, the darkness under your eyes had smoothed out. 

You looked away and wandered further into the bathroom. You took note of a modern soaking tub and a spacious shower with a rainfall shower head. You found the walk-in closet next, a heavy silence pressing against you. You were walking into someone else’s life, you were sure of that. It was neatly organized, large, and one side, from floor to ceiling, hung all of Rafe’s polished clothing.

On the other side was a stark contrast. Your fingers grazed over the soft fabric of a dress that was hanging at eye level. Silk, just like the one you were wearing, except this one would reach down past your knees. Soft hues of pink blush, pale golds, baby blues, and creamy whites filled the racks. More dresses. Skirts. Delicate. Frilly, even. The only pants you found were shorts and those were all silk as well. Pastel ribbons and lace. 

Your fists squeezed at your side. Did he expect you to feel happy? This wasn’t yours. This was the wardrobe of some island princess. Who did he think you were? You closed your eyes tight. God, you just wanted to get high. This would all be easier if you didn’t have to feel. You could handle this. You could pretend to be what he wanted if he just let you get high. 

You found Rafe on the balcony connected to the bedroom. Looking through the glass sliding door, you saw him leaning against the balcony’s railing, a phone pressed to his ear. The view behind him was dazzling. The sand was so white it was blinding. He wore board shorts and a cream-colored unbuttoned shirt. The conversation seemed tense. 

This was your chance. You weren’t sure if you wanted to step forward or to run. You took a step back but just as you did, his head turned. He said something into the phone that you couldn’t hear. You turned quickly, too fast, you felt a headache coming on. You hurried to the bedroom door anyways, padding over a soft carpet, before you tried to yank at the large, mahogany doors. They didn’t budge. Of course. 

You heard the glass doors slide open and the sound of crashing waves flooded your ears. 

“You’re out of bed,” He said. You turned, pressing your back against the door, and mentally cursed. Rafe looked different too. He looked happy, hopeful, “Look at you… you look so good–”

“Where is this place?”

“Far, far away.”

You pressed a hand to you forehead, “God, I feel like shit.”

“I know,” Rafe spoke, eyes understanding, “It’s gonna be a process. But you - you look better than you have in so long.”

“I don’t–”

“You really do,” Rafe took a step forward. He was so handsome. Sometimes you forgot. He was tall, commanding, and he seemed to be coming into his own even more as his business became more successful. You hadn’t even seen the rest of the house but you never understood until now how successful he’d become. It made your stomach twist,  “I love you like this.”

You shook your head defiantly, “At the detox clinic, they give you stuff to help with the cravings. Helps with the withdrawal. It’s too painful without. Just a small amount would help wean me off.”

“You’re not going to find a bottle of wine in this house. No pills. No stash under the sink. Best I can do is an ibuprofen.”

Your chest heaved and your eyes started to burn, “That’s not enough. You can’t just lock me up and expect me to raw dog my way through withdrawal.”

His expression didn’t change, even as your tears started to fall, “I hate to see you in pain. I’m here to take care of you but I need your cooperation. If you sit down on the bed, I’ll give you some pain medication.”

“I don’t want your fucking medicine!” Rafe’s jaw clenched, “Take me home!”

In a matter of seconds, he had you by your wrists, and was hauling you over to the bed, “You make this easier for yourself by listening. I’m done playing by your rules. I’m in control now. Do you hear me?” Rafe growled, pinning your arms above your head. His knees parted your legs and he pressed his weight onto you, “You are going to be obedient.”

“You can’t do this,” You whined, struggling beneath him, “You can’t fucking do this!”

“I can!” His deep voice rumbled across your skin, and for the first time, you were actually scared of him, “I’ve decided I’m not going to let you kill yourself. I’ve decided you’re going to live and this is the life I’m giving you. You’re going to do what I say, when I say it. You’re going to eat three meals a day, exercise, take your fucking vitamins, breathe fresh air, and you’re going to act like you’re happy until it starts to feel real.”

“Fine, okay – just let go – you’re hurting me–”

He scoffed. “Hurting you? After what you’ve done to yourself? After what you’ve let happen to you? I’m the one hurting you?”

And then his mouth was on yours. Crushing. Possessive. Final.

It felt like love. Even though all his weight was on top of you and he hadn’t asked for your permission. It felt like love because of how gentle and hot his kisses were against your lips, against your neck, and against your jaw. He squeezed you tightly but not to bruise. Not because he was getting off on your pain. 

It was a warm embrace. You tried to run from it. It was so overwhelming that he fit against you like a matching puzzle piece. Strong hips rocked against yours and it made you dizzy. It was perfect. Just what you needed. Your headache was gone, all you could feel was him, hard and heavy against you. 

He pushed the top of your nightgown to the side, took your nipples into his mouth, and sucked until your back was arching. “Please don’t,” You begged but the more you talked, the less you were able to hear yourself, “Rafe, I can’t.”

He sounded like an animal, a deep rumbling in this throat, vibrated against your skin. Like you’d denied him so long of his primal instincts. This was your fault. 

“So fucking beautiful,” It was out of your control. He’d decided that you were ready. He got you there easily. Rocking against your hips, grinding into you, making your juices soak through your lacy yellow panties. You were so ready that when he finally pushed inside of you, he met no resistance at all, “All mine.”

Your head tilted back just as a strong hand wrapped around your throat. You screamed but he didn’t stop. He went faster, thrusted deeper, “Look at you,” He spoke in a low rasp, “You’re gonna come already, aren’t you?”

You gritted your teeth. It was painful. You tried to push the pleasure away. He noticed and became relentless. You screamed again, “Fucking feel it,” he commanded, “Fuck, you’re fucking perfect. Made for me. You can take it. Fucking take it.”

Clenching around him, your body betrayed your mind. Reisting had made it worse. You convulsed around him and he tightened his grip around your throat. You expected a break, some sort of relief, when Rafe finally pulled out of you. Your muscles were still twitching, squeezing, your walls ached. You felt empty. 

He flipped your body easily. Your fingers clenched the sheets as he pulled your underwear down to your ankles. A series of spanks against your bare ass made you yelp but you kept still. He pressed his weight down on you again, sliding into your welcoming hole from behind. At this angle, he could go even deeper. He kissed above your ear, “Good girl,” Your lips formed a permanent “o”, “Stay like that. My good girl.”

You came again. This time because of the voice in your ear. It put you in a daze. You didn't know if you wanted to cry or to beg him to stop, but the words didn’t come. Only the sound of his praise, "Good girl," "You're perfect", each word tightening its hold on you, sinking deeper inside. Finally he softly said an, “I love you so much”. You hadn’t ever felt anything like this. Consumed and cared for. Used and loved. It was everything, all at once. 

Rafe didn’t sugar-coat his intentions. He was training you. You made the mistake of showing him that he could give you pleasure. That your mind melted when he was fucking you. He could make you chase after the orgasms. It was the only high he provided you. 

You ate all three meals provided to you and he’d bury his face between your legs on top of the kitchen table. You went out to the pool and swam with him instead of throwing vases, he fucked you hard against a lounge chair. You went a whole week without asking him for drugs and he’d fingered you until you lost your voice. You wore a bow in your hair, a pink mini dress he picked out, and sat in his lap while he worked in his office and you came for the first time with his finger in your ass. 

You’d replaced one addiction with another. You still thought about your old life almost every hour of every day but the pleasure took the edge off. 

The first time you’d seen another person other than a cleaning lady was when Barry, Rafe’s business partner, came to visit. He warned you to be on your best behavior. You saw it as a chance to be on Rafe’s good side for a long time. Maybe that meant you would be able to get away with more. Maybe that meant he’d do that thing again where he tied you down to the bed, put a vibrator on your clit, and made you cum over and over. 

They were out together, surveying whatever Rafe’s secret project was. He still kept all his business under wraps. All you knew was that there was gold involved. And you’d only heard that when you were eavesdropping on one of his calls. 

When they returned at dinnertime, you had dinner and a dessert ready. Grilled mahi-mahi and sweet potatoes for the entree and chocolate cake for dessert. You started early, knowing you might burn your first attempt. Luckily, you perfected the recipe on the second attempt. 

You chose a floral, white dress, one that was low-cut and showed off your ever developing breasts. You were slightly insecure about them but Rafe complimented your blossoming figure consisting. 

Rafe eyed you cautiously but Barry was more than impressed. You hugged Barry to greet him and you felt the man’s hands linger on your waist for a moment too long. 

You made conversation easily. Your tone was light, almost fake, but this was how Rafe wanted you. You smiled until it felt real. Barry thought all of his jokes were funny. You laughed politely. 

You served them both chocolate cake, leaning over each of them as you scooped a slice on to each of their plates. Rafe eyed you again, “After dessert, should we all get in the pool?” You asked, your eyes flirty and on Barry. He smiled, gold-tooth flashing. 

“That sounds–”

Rafe interrupted him, “You want a beer, Barry?”

Your heart pounded. Your lips parted, “A beer?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Barry responded, unaware of the tension between you and Rafe.

“Angel, could you get two beers for me and Barry from the fridge in the pantry? I had some flown in the other day,” You hid your hands behind your back, to hide how bad they’d started shaking. 

You hadn’t noticed any beers. Then again, you hadn’t looked in that fridge in awhile. What was he doing? Without another word, you turned on your heels and made your way to the pantry. To your surprise, and likely, your downfall, there was a pack of beers in the fridge. 

Shaking you picked up two. Just two. You stared down at them, cold, condensation dripping down the glasses. Fuck. You hadn’t chosen this. Rafe chose this. It was just beer. It wasn’t a hard drug. He didn’t have the right to do this. He was testing you. 

It took everything in you to walk back to the table and set them in front of each of the men, “Thanks, sweet thing.”

Still trembling, you sat back down in your seat. You were sweating. You watched both of them. Rafe’s strong hands twisted open his bottle. You sat eerily still as the men enjoyed their dessert and the alcohol. The conversation continued without you. 

You tuned back in when you heard Rafe say, “Why don’t you head out there, Barry, and we’ll join you in a second.”

Barry’s eyes flicked between you and Rafe, suspicious, before he said, “Sure.”

When the coast was clear, Rafe asked, “What are you trying to do?”

“What?” You asked though your attention was fixed on his glass. 

“You’re trying to get something,” Rafe said. Of course you were. All addicts do is use other people to get what they want. 

You didn’t move your eyes from the glass. 

“Hey, look at me,” And you did. It had become second nature. Do as your told, “You’re strong. You’ve been doing so good.”

“I’m not,” You disagreed.

Rafe tilted his head back, taking a sip, “You’re my good girl, right?”

“Yes,” You said quickly, “I’m trying. Maybe if I could just have a sip–”

“I know what you really want, Y/N, and you know I can’t give you that,” Rafe continued, voice steady, “You know what I can give you though.”

You nodded, “Okay,” You rubbed your hands nervously over your dress. Your palms were sweaty, “Can I have your cock, please? Can you make me cum?”

“Stand up, lift up your dress and bend over the table,” You did so quickly. You even made sure to pull down your panties. You were already wet. He didn’t need to warm you up. Sometimes you liked it better when he skipped the foreplay and went straight for what he wanted. You liked it. You had a purpose. You had love. 

He didn’t move immediately. He watched you. He took his time, finished his beer. 

“All this was because you wanted a reward, huh?”

“Yes, Rafe.”

His chair scraped against the marble floor as he stood. God, you were soaked. If he could just touch you –“You trying to manipulate me now? Use my friend to get what you want?”

“N-No–”

He spanked you so hard you screamed, one of your legs kicking up as you tried to fight through the pain, “Y-Yes, I-I’m sorry!”

“I know when you’re lying. I’ve always fucking known. You’re bad at it.”

“I’m sorry,” Another spank. You winced. 

“You’re not gonna have a sip of beer. You’re not gonna cum either, okay?”

“Rafe, please, I’ll be–” Five hard spanks. 

“Shut up, angel,” Five more spanks, “This is what this has all been about. Discipline. Not giving into temptation. You’re so close to getting it.”

Shame. You used to run from it. You were so ashamed of your life and your decisions that you wanted to feel nothing. With Rafe, you felt everything. Shame. Depression. Happiness. Pleasure. All of it. He didn’t let you run from it. 

He kept going until you were sobbing and your thighs were glistening with the need that had dripped down from your aching center. 

When he was done, he was out of breath. You were sorry. So sorry. He was right. You just needed more discipline, “Thank you,” You whispered, pulling your body from the table. Your body had grown stronger but you were still so much weaker than him. Part of you liked that, “Thank you, Rafe.”

You got down to you knees, “For what, angel?”

“For caring,” Your voice was so weak. You hugged his leg, rested your head against his knee, “Thank you for caring.”

He bent down, brushing a hand through your hair before trailing his fingers gently along your cheek. You leaned into his touch instinctively, eyes fluttering closed.

“I want you to go upstairs,” he murmured, “put on your swimsuit—the one-piece with the sunflowers. Then grab one of my belts and lay it on the bed and come back down.” 

“I’m going to spank you again tonight,” he continued, almost reverent. “And I want you to thank me again. Just like this. Just as perfect as you are right now.”

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up. Trembling legs brought you up the stairs. You’d never felt like this before. You wanted Rafe to be proud of you.

Reblogs w/ your thoughts are the best way to support me! Please message me with drabble ideas for this au if you have any :)

[maybejj]

TWIN FLAMES PART 11

≪ masterlist ≫

SOCIAL MEDIA AU, 18+ MDNI

baby!daddy!rafe x pogue!reader

warnings: swearing, drug deals, mentions of coke, addiction

summary: You and Rafe were the couple that no one saw coming. The kook king and the pogue princess falling in love was a shock to the whole island. The pogues questioned your relationship, the kooks despised it, and Ward took extreme measures to tear you two apart every chance he got. It was only a matter of time before the pressure caused the relationship to break. The constant arguing, the yelling, it all became too much. Rafe turned to drugs and you isolated yourself from everyone until there was too much damage to repair. But life has a funny way of bringing two souls back together. In this instance, in the form of a three year old little boy.

part 12

Notes: very curious to see how everyone reacts to their “first” interaction. they’ve known of each other at this point and maybe had some words throughout the years but this is their first interaction that starts their whole relationship!

taglist: @yktayy9669 @massivepenguinfart @maybankslover @defnotayonna @daddyrafeslittleslut @a-lovers-card @inthelibrarybtw @scarlettoceaneyes @anacamofficial @bbyg4rl @smokahontas-113 @rafeysbabydoll @rafesbabygirlx @frankoceanluvr11 @flvredcas @voidangxls @ivy-34 @yolgart @starsmoonn @hannieskzzz @tqd4455 @jjasmiineee @congratsloserr @pr3tty-pink @lili-swagalicious @papercranesandinkstains @jamesbeaufortismylife @stoned-writer @kathryn-maraudersversion @st8rkey @justdamnpeachy @ggraycelynn @luvelola @icaqttt @rafe-cameronswife @pogueprincesa @mrsdrewstarkeyy @countryclubwhore @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @lerclec @drewsswifeyy @bee-43 @akobx @trevorsturniolo @mariamadison6-blog @larema121 @stelleduarte @klarxtr @ietss @todorokiskitten