#rafe drabble

[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ a little dry humping never ruined a friendship.

warnings — 18+ MDNI. bsf!rafe x bsf!reader. dry humping, dirty talk & praise.

cherie's note — based off of this tweet!

your hips rolled against his like this was normal — like you weren't even thinking, and this was all just instinct. thighs straddling his lap, his large hands guiding your movements in rhythm with his. rafe's mouth was on you like he was starving — like he had anticipated this moment for years.

his back was slouched against his headboard, head tipped just enough for you to take what you wanted: sloppy kisses, open mouths, gasping against each other when the heat surged too fast. your lips slid against his like you owned them, tongue teasing until he groaned into you, that deep, guttural sound that vibrated straight to your core.

you could feel him under you — hot and hard through the thin material of his boxers, one of the only two things acting as a barrier in this moment— flimsy fabric, and a label you were dangerously close to ignoring.

best friends. nothing more.

"jesus," he muttered, breath ragged, hands gripping your waist with determination, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt like he needed to feel every inch of your skin. "you feel so good on me, baby."

a broken, throaty whine tore from your lips, raw and unrestrained, your chest rising and falling in frantic, shallow breaths. your eyes fluttered shut as your hips moved on their own, chasing friction like it was the only thing keeping you alive. every slow grind dragged your soaked panties across the thick, throbbing bulge straining against his boxers — each pass nudging your swollen clit with aimed precision. the wet heat between your thighs was unbearable, your need slick and shameless, seeping through the fabric that felt far too thin to separate you from what you really wanted.

"you're soaking through your panties... fuck, baby. you feel that?" he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes — his pupils blown wide, mouth swollen from kissing.

his words hung in the air, and for a second, the tension was almost suffocating. you could feel the heat creeping on your face, a mix of embarrassment and guilt. you swallowed hard, biting your lip to keep from responding too quickly, but your body couldn't lie.

"shut up," you whispered, your voice low, almost pleading. you didn't know if you were telling him to stop, or trying to distract yourself from the growing feeling in your stomach. but your hips still moved, still rocked, against the pressure of him beneath you, betraying every word you tried to say.

rafe smirked, but his eyes were still locked on you, unreadable — dangerous. "i'm hardly doing anything, sweetheart," he muttered, his voice rough, a little shaky. his hands glide against the skin of your waist, goosebumps rising in their path. "you're the one who can't stay still."

the taste of copper in your mouth was undeniable — teeth biting down on your bottom lip, hands gripping his shoulders in attempt of stability, trying to keep steady — trying desperately to keep yourself together. "you're one to talk — whose idea was it for me to sit in your lap, ray?"

rafe's gaze faltered down to where you were both pressed together, lips parting like he was going to say something, but he didn't. instead, he gripped your hips again, guiding your movements, slow and deliberate, just enough to make your breath hitch in your throat.

the pressure was building, slow and unbearable, like the air itself was too thick to breathe — suffocating. each grind of your hips against his sent a shock to your shaking body, tightening everything within you.

rafe's breath was ragged, his chest rising and falling under you, his blue eyes half-lidded watching you with a hunger you couldn't ignore. "fuck, you're close, huh?” he muttered, his voice thick with need, the words pulling something deep from within you.

"come on," rafe coaxed, his voice rough, low. "let go, baby. let me watch you come undone."

each roll of your hips made the pressure at your core spike higher, sharper. you were so close — until, finally, something snapped. the words sent a wave of heat crashing over you, the combination of his touch and his filthy praise pushing you to the edge. you gasped, nails digging into his chest, hips rutting harder against rafe, desperate for that release.

he lets out a sharp, unmistakable whimper, hot spurts of his own cum coating the soaked fabric of your lace panties, sticky strings of his release mixing with the wet mess between your folds.

for a moment, the air is thick with something undeniable — hot, heavy panting, chests heaving against one another as you both blink in astonishment, then break into soft, methodical laughter at the predicament you’ve found yourselves in.

"we're supposed to be—"

"friends?" he laughs, catching his breath, gaze flickering down towards where your messy cunt presses persistently against his crotch, "yeah, keep sitting on me like that and say it again."

[rafeys-angel13]

thinking about… rafe having baby fever but not wanting to seem “soft”

you’d been at your cousins house, visiting your new baby niece.

she was so adorable, like the cutest baby you’ve ever seen.

in the car on the way home, rafe was overly touchy and twitchy.

you look over at him after his fingers twitch against your thigh for the millionth time.

“you okay, baby?” you ask softly, reaching over to brush your fingers over the hair on the back of his head.

he nods and looks over to you.

“yeah, i’m okay” he nods again and diverts his gaze back to the road.

you sit in a comfortable silence before rafe clears his throat and speaks up.

“uh- abby was cute, huh?” he murmurs, you nod in agreement and smile.

“yeah, she was cute”

he nods and the car falls quiet yet again.

“would you like one?” he blurts out, his cheeks flushing when he realises he actually said it.

you snap your head to look at him and his hand leaves your thigh, resting on the steering wheel.

“what?”

“uh- i mean like in the future. you want kids, right?” he asks, his voice wavering and eyes frantically trying to decide whether to look at you or the road.

what the hell are you meant to say? does he mean with him?

“yeah, i’d like children…” you nod. your reply is calm, unlike your thoughts.

“with me?” he murmurs, his eyes flicker to you then back at the road.

“do you want them with me…?” you question, regretting the tone you had used. it sounded like a jab.

“of course i want kids with you, sweetheart…” he responds. his voice is barely louder than a whisper.

his hand returns to your thigh and he gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“i want to start a family with you…” he relays the words in a more assured manner.

“you could’ve just said that” you giggle and his serious expression cracks. his lips curving into a grin as he rubs a hand over his face.

“yeah… could’ve just said it.” he shakes his head.

“didn’t want you to think i’m soft…” he sighs, looking back at the road as he pulls into the driveway.

“you’re not soft for wanting a family… or having baby fever” you reassure him with a chuckle.

he turns off the car and looks over at you.

“i don’t have baby fever.”

“you so do” you giggle and lean over to peck his lips softly.

he returns the kiss, holding back a smile of his own.

“but i’m serious when i say i want you to have my children.”

he holds the back of your head and pulls you back in for a soft, passionate kiss.

-

- request a fic

[itneverendshere]

the aftermath of sex with rafe and you’re about to roll out to leave and he’s like “what’s going on” and you’re like “oh you want me to stay?”

decided to use this request for bitchy!pogue!reader, bc i love their dynamic in my last drabble for them and wanted to see their relationship develop!! hope that's okay and thank you for the request!!🫶🏼🫶🏼

said it a million times, only stay with you one more night - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

your breath was still shaky as you lay in rafe’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. the room smelled like sex and bad decisions—the same old combination every time you found yourself tangled up with him.

what the fuck had you done? again.

you groaned internally, rolling to the side and blinking at the mess of clothes on the floor. your clothes. you needed to get out of here, like you always did after. this was a routine by now—fuck rafe, get dressed, leave before shit got weird.

but, of course, it was always weird with rafe.

he was your worst mistake on repeat, the asshole kook you swore you hated but couldn’t seem to stop ending up in bed with. and you weren’t entirely wrong. he was an asshole. that perfect jawline of his clenched every time he looked at you, like he wanted to snap or—snap you in half, depending on the day. he acted like he couldn’t stand you most of the time, and you loved it.

especially when you knew exactly where that frustration would end up: right between your legs.

you knew the deal. this thing with rafe was nothing but sex. pure tension. you loved driving him insane, loved the way his face would twist, how his hands would grip your hips with just a little too much pressure, like he had something to prove. but the second it was over, he always turned cold. he’d stare at you with that same look—disgusted, maybe even regretful—like he couldn’t believe he’d let himself touch you.

and you weren’t about to stick around for that bullshit.

with a sigh, you pushed the covers back and swung your legs out of the bed, standing up with a wince as your body reminded you just how hard he'd fucked you. the soreness in your thighs was a not-so-subtle reminder of how you ended up here, naked, in his bed again when you swore to yourself that the last time was really the last time.

you didn’t even bother looking at him as you reached for your jeans on the floor, pulling them on quickly. you needed to get out of here before he started up with that whole “i don’t even know why i did this” attitude, like you were the problem.

 “where are you going?”

you didn’t even look back at him as you yanked your top over your head. “leaving. what’s it look like?”

the bed creaked as he sat up, and you could practically feel his eyes burning into your back. “what the fuck is going on?”

you paused, one arm halfway through your top, rolling your eyes at his tone. now he wanted to act like something was different? “what do you mean, what’s going on?” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from every word. “’m leaving. you know, like i always do after we fuck.”

rafe didn’t answer right away, and for a second, you thought maybe he’d just let it go. but then he surprised you.

“you don’t have to go.”

you turned around slowly, narrowing your eyes at him. “what? you want me to stay now?” he never asked you to stay. hell, he was usually halfway out the door emotionally before you even got your clothes back on.

his face hardened at your reaction, that familiar pissed-off look settling into his features. “yeah, i don’t know, maybe i do.”

you laughed, genuinely surprised. “since when? you want me to hang around and play house after?”

“do you always have to make everything so fucking complicated?”

you raised an unimpressed brow, “okay, i think you hit your head on the bedframe earlier.”

“shut the fuck up and get in bed.”

you froze, mid-laugh, because—wait—what? rafe cameron, the king of "get out before i pretend you don’t exist," actually wanted you to stay.

“excuse me?” you blinked at him, fully expecting him to break character any second

he was unpredictable like that. one minute, he was treating you like you’re beneath him—like you were the dirty secret he couldn't believe he kept hooking up with—and the next? he was saying stuff that made your heart do this stupid thing it had no business doing.

“get back in bed,” he demanded, like he actually expected you to listen.

“why? so you can flip back to being a fucking asshole in the morning?”

he rolled his eyes and groaned like you were the exhausting one here, “can you just—” he hesitated, clearly fighting with whatever stupid thoughts were bouncing around that kook head of his. “just come back to bed.”

and oh god, why did he have to sound almost...vulnerable?

you stared at him, fully aware this was a bad idea. the two of you didn’t “do” feelings. shit, he barely “did” conversation after sex. this wasn’t just out of character for him; it was out of this planet.

so you crossed your arms and tilted your head, leaning against his dresser like you had all the time in the world. “are you serious right now, cameron? you actually want me to stay? for what, a cuddle session? netflix?”

he gave you that trademark irritated look, tongue poking his cheek. “you’re so fucking difficult.”

“yeah, well, you’re not exactly easy, baby.”

you smirked, half expecting him to snap again. but instead, he did something you never saw coming. he ran a hand through his messy hair—full-on frustrated—and sighed. a real sigh. and then, in this quiet voice that was so unlike him, he said, “maybe i just don’t want you to leave.”

you felt your stomach flip. no no no. this wasn’t part of the deal. you two weren’t supposed to catch feelings. but the way he was looking at you, all raw and real for once, made your brain go foggy. you could leave right now. walk out, just like you always did, like a smart girl.

but something in his voice was pulling you back, like maybe this time was different. “rafe…” 

“just stay,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours, and for the first time since you started this whole messed-up dance with him, you saw something in his face that wasn’t anger or lust or annoyance.

it almost looked like...he cared. maybe you’d stay, just to see what this was about.

you weren’t about to let your guard down completely. you weren’t some naive kook princess. you knew how to protect yourself—especially from guys like him, because let’s be honest, rafe was a certified disaster in human form. and you weren’t any better.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “if i stay, you’re not gonna pull some ‘i don’t know why i did this’ bullshit tomorrow, right? ‘cause ’m not dealing with that again, cameron.”

he huffed, but there was this softness to it. “can you just stay without turning everything into a fight?”

“turning it into a fight?” you raised a brow, incredulous. “that’s literally your specialty.”

rafe’s jaw tightened—again—but instead of snapping back like usual, he just stared at you. “’m not asking for forever, alrigh’? just one night. jesus.”

one night.

you could do one night, right?

you climbed back onto the bed, settling into the sheets next to him. it felt...weird. not in a bad way, just different. usually, you’d be out of here by now, shorts half-buttoned, sneaking out like some guilty secret. but this? lying next to him, clothes still off, in his bed, with his scent all around you? it felt more intimate than any of the wild, angry sex you’d had with him before.

“happy now?” you muttered, glancing over at him.

rafe didn’t say anything for a second. he just looked at you, like he wasn’t sure how to act either. “yeah. maybe i am.”

it was bizarre, how different this felt from all the other times. there was no rush to leave, no awkward scramble to avoid the inevitable “i shouldn’t have done that” speech. just the two of you, lying there in silence. you felt his hand brush against yours under the covers. it wasn’t a big, dramatic move, just his fingers lightly grazing your skin.

it was such a small thing, but somehow, it felt... huge. rafe was the last guy on earth you ever expected to be soft, especially with you. but here he was, in this tiny, almost awkward moment, doing something that felt closer to intimacy than anything else you’d ever shared. what the hell was happening?

“you’re acting like a human being. it’s weirding me out.”

he smirked, but it didn’t have the usual arrogance behind it. “maybe 'm just tired of being an asshole.”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “that would be a first.”

he didn’t fight back like you expected. instead, his hand moved a little under the covers, and suddenly, his fingers were really holding yours, not just grazing but actually intertwining with your own. you blinked down at your joined hands, feeling your heart flip-flop in a way that annoyed you. this wasn’t what you signed up for, not even close.

but then again, when had anything with him ever gone according to plan.

“why are you doing this?” you asked quietly, trying to ignore how fast your pulse was beating.

rafe’s jaw clenched—again, with the jaw clenching—but this time, it didn’t feel like frustration. he was thinking, actually thinking about what to say, and that alone was enough to make you nervous.

“i don’t know,” he admitted, “i just—” He stopped himself, taking a deep breath like the words were hard for him to get out. “maybe i don’t hate you as much as i thought i did.”

that threw you for a loop. he was never this honest. you stared at him, eyes wide, waiting for the punchline, but there wasn’t one. he wasn’t smirking, wasn’t trying to act like he didn’t care. he just... said it. like it was the most normal thing in the world to admit feelings when feelings weren’t even on the table.

“Wow,” you breathed, genuinely shocked. “you really hit your head earlier.”

he snickered, but it sounded different—soft, even. “Yeah, maybe I did.”

“should i call for a doctor?”

it was unsettling seeing him like this, not lashing out or shutting you down with a snide comment. 

“you don’t always have to make everything a joke.”

your eyebrows shot up at that, the surprise clear on your face. “excuse me? that’s literally what we do—” you gestured vaguely between the two of you. “that’s our thing.”

he just sighed, shaking his head like he was genuinely exasperated with you. before you could throw out another sarcastic remark, he grabbed you by the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

his hand gripped the back of your neck with just enough pressure to hold you in place, but there was a tenderness in the way his fingers tangled in your hair. his lips met yours gently at first as if testing the waters, and the softness of it scared you. you were so used to him being all teeth, nipping, and biting, that this moment of quiet, hesitant intimacy caught you off guard. he kissed you like he was savoring it—like this was something he wanted to remember.

his thumb brushed lightly along your jawline, as the kiss deepened, his lips pressing a little harder against yours, but it still lacked the aggression you’d come to expect from him. there was no desperation here. his tongue flicked against your bottom lip, gentle but insistent, and without thinking, you parted your lips, letting him in. your bodies stayed close, but it wasn’t the usul closeness that came from lust. the slow, languid rhythm of his mouth against yours was intimate in a way that felt too personal.

rafe was kissing you like you were someone he cared about, like you were more than just another way to burn off steam. this wasn’t what you two did. you weren’t supposed to share soft touches and slow kisses. you were supposed to fight, tear each other apart, then fuck like it was the only thing holding you together.

when the kiss finally broke, you felt dazed, staring at him like you didn’t recognize the person in front of you. rafe, however, didn’t seem fazed. he just looked at you with those piercing blue eyes, still holding the back of your neck like he was afraid you’d bolt the second he let go.

“i meant it,” he said quietly, his voice a low, “i don’t want you to leave.”

“i don’t do this,” you muttered, shaking your head. “we don’t do this.”

rafe’s grip on your neck loosened, but his hand didn’t move. “i know. just tonight.”

you closed your eyes, breathing him in. he smelled like sweat and sex and something that made your entire body hurt in a way you hadn’t expected. maybe he wasn’t asking for forever, but staying here with him felt like it could change everything.

one night and you’d worry about tomorrow when it came.

[fear-is-truth]

˖˚⊹ 𝓙’s note: rafe cameron x pogue!reader who hates his guts but can’t stay away from that d warnings: smuttyyy

the sound of the ocean drifts through the open window, moonlight spilling across your bedroom floor in uneven streaks. kneeling on the mattress, you dig your fingers into the soft, linen sheets, knuckles paling. eyes fixed on the vanity across from the bed, its polished surface cluttered with perfumes and a half-open jewelry box.

you despise him. you hate his fucking guts.

yet, you can’t bring yourself to stay away from him.

“it’s not gonna fit, you pig,” you snarl through gritted teeth, pushing back against him. this earns a rough smack across your asscheek, the painful sting making you flinch. you shoot him a venomous glare over your shoulder.

“no… i think it’ll work,” rafe cameron drawls from behind you, voice dripping with that goddamn condescension that never fails to make your blood boil.

“of course you’d say that, you think everything works in your favour.” you feel the mattress shift again. this time, it’s the unmistakable feeling of his cock sliding between your legs, the ominous hardness, and how you can feel every ridge and vein rubbing against the plush of your thighs.

“yeah well, only ‘cause it does, pogue.”

the last part leaves his lips with such venom, it might as well been a slur. when his engorged tip breached your weeping hole, you tighten your jaw in an attempt to bite back any sound that’ll give him the slightest ounce of satisfaction. as embarrassingly turned on, unbelievably soaked you are, the burning stretch still feels overwhelming. inch by agonising inch, his cock bullies its way past your tight walls—each time when it felt as though it wasn’t biologically possible for you to accommodate any more, that you couldn’t take another fraction, your walls give way, expanding stubbornly.

“tight fit, huh.” rafe observes, rough hands gripping onto your hips, “but don’t worry, we’re gonna make it work.”

“if you think for a second that– mghha— fuck you!”

without warning, he plows right into you with one powerful thrust of his hips. bottoming out, he lets out a deep groan at how hot and tight your cunt felt; squeezing around him as if it were carved to fit the exact shape of his cock.

“tight fit. but i told you, we’d make it work,” he crows in savage triumph, fingers pressing on the faint bulge on your lower abdomen.

“s-shut up,” you hiss, trying to ignore the tingling sensation crawling up from the base of your spine, or the telltale twitch inside you. your palms are flat against the mattress as his hands snakes around your front to grope the soft curves of your breasts. rafe pulls back with a lewd squelch, and relief washes over you as your walls recoiled into its original state…but alas, it doesn’t last long. he snaps his hips forward again, impaling you to accommodate his massive girth.

“you’re so f-full of yourself,” you turn your head just enough to catch his smirk, that cocky grin that makes you want to slap the living shit out of him. bracing yourself, you bite your lip, refusing to let any sort of whimper slip out when he sat back onto his heels, the new angle allowing his cockhead to prod at your g-spot.

“you’re so f-full of yourself,” rafe mimics in an obnoxious singsong, hot tongue tracing along the cartilage of your ear. he punctures the sentence with a sharp thrust that caused your vision to go white momentarily when his tip threatened to push past your cervix. curling his hand around your throat, he thrusts once, twice, before sinking his teeth into your shoulder at the third time as your cunt flutters weakly around him.

“big words from someone who’s stuffed full of my cock,”

[lacydollette]

NYE KISS ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader

warnings: new established relationship, slight angst, lost of fluff, kissing, rafe being a cutiepie

Rafe stood on the balcony of Tannyhill, his breath visible in the cold night air. He fiddled with the beer bottle in his hand, not really drinking it, just holding it to ease his nerves. The New Year’s party was in full swing inside, the music and laughter spilling out into the night, but Rafe wasn’t paying attention to any of it. His eyes kept drifting toward you.

You stood near the fire pit, face glowing in the flickering light. You were laughing at something Wheezie had said, head tilted back, and Rafe felt his chest tighten. You had a way of making him feel special, like his world was steady when you smiled at him.

You caught his gaze, and your smile softened. You excused yourself and walked over to him, little heels clinking on the wooden floor. “Hiding out again?” You teased gently, tugging your hands underneath your arms. Rafe shrugged, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Just needed some air.”

You gave him a knowing look but didn’t press. Instead, you stepped closer, the faint scent of your vanilla perfume making his heart race. “You know, it’s almost midnight,” you mumbled, voice light but your eyes searching his. “Big moment and all.”

Rafe swallowed, his grip tightening on the bottle. He’d thought about this moment all week—whether to kiss you at midnight, if you even wanted him to. You’d been together for a few weeks now, but he still couldn’t believe you were with him. You were too good, too kind.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. “Guess it is.”

The countdown started inside, the voices growing louder with each number. Rafe glanced toward the house, his nerves threatening to get the best of him. But then you reached out, your fingers brushing his arm, grounding him.

“Hey,” you said softly, drawing his attention back to you. “You okay?”He nodded, though he wasn’t sure he was. “I just… I don’t wanna screw this up.” You tilted your head, eyes warm and reassuring. “You won’t,” you said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The final seconds of the countdown echoed through the night.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

Rafe’s heart pounded in time with the chant, his eyes locked on yours.

“Seven… six… five…”

You stepped closer, your breath mingling with his in the cold night air.

“Four… three… two…”

And then, as the shouts of “Happy New Year!” erupted inside, you were the first to lean in and kiss him.

The world went quiet. For a moment, it was just you—your lips soft against his, hands lightly resting on his chest. Rafe let the beer bottle slip from his fingers, wrapping his arms around you instead, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him sane, which was definitely the case.

When you finally pulled back, you were smiling, cheeks flushed and heart pounding in your chest. “See?” You said, “Not so hard.”

Rafe laughed, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “Guess not,” he admitted, his forehead resting against yours.

For a moment, you just stood there, wrapped in each other and the magic of the moment. But then, Rafe couldn’t help himself. The happiness bubbling inside him was too much to contain. He leaned in again, pressing a soft, quick kiss to your lips. And then another. And another.

You couldn’t help but giggle, hands rubbing lightly over his shoulders as he peppered you with kisses, his grin growing wider with each one. “Rafe!” You laughed, though you didn’t stop him.

“I can’t help it,” he said between pecks, his voice filled with a joy he hadn’t felt in years. “You’re too perfect.”

Your laughter softened into a sweet smile, and you reached up to cup his face, thumb brushing his cheek. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, though your eyes sparkled with affection. You were so in love with this guy.

“Yeah, ridiculously obsessed with you,” he teased, his forehead pressing against yours once more.

You didn’t argue. Instead, you pulled him in for one more lingering kiss, sealing the promise of the year ahead—a year you’d face together, no matter what.

[ds-angel1]

serial killer!rafe gets blood on candy!readers plushie :(

cw: murder, dd/lg, (forced) infantalisation, conditioning

a/n: thank you for requesting, anon <3

Rafe wasn’t supposed to kill him.

It was just a conversation. A warning, maybe.

Nothing you needed to know about. He'd put the man on the couch, far from your room, far from the softness and light and innocence he’s built around you like a padded cell.

You were upstairs, where you belonged, with your nightlight stars and your stuffies tucked in beside you.

He swore he wouldn't let that world touch yours.

But something snapped. A look. A laugh. A tone. And Rafe saw red before the man even finished his sentence.

When it was done, he cleaned up everything, perfectly, obsessively. Bleach and gloves and plastic wrap. The rug’s gone, the couch flipped, the floor scrubbed raw.

But in his fury, in that blur of violence, he hadn’t realized something: one of your plushies was on the coffee table. You must’ve left it there earlier, wandering sleepy-eyed to ask if he could play "tea party" before bed.

Now it’s ruined.

“Princess Jellybean”, pink, frilly, with a little crown sewn crookedly to her head, has a deep splash of blood across her face and belly. Like a wound.

Rafe stares at her, holding her too tightly, his knuckles white against the pink fabric.

He doesn’t know whether to scream or cry.

You don’t notice until morning. You toddle into the kitchen, hair messy, dragging your blankie behind you like a toddler from a picture book. And you gasp.

"Princess Jellybean!"

Your voice is heartbreak in miniature. You dart over to where she’s sitting, cleaned as much as he could without damaging her, but the stain is still there. Brownish-red, dried and clinging.

Rafe crouches beside you fast, hands on your shoulders, voice syrupy-sweet and low.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay, bunny. She got a little dirty, that’s all."

You’re holding her to your chest now, lip wobbling. "Did she get hurt?"

Rafe forces a soft chuckle. "Nah, baby. Just... just ketchup. Daddy made a mess last night."

"But she’s all sticky…"

“I’ll clean her up again. I promise.” He presses a kiss to your temple. "You want to help? We’ll give her a bubble bath. Just like you, huh?"

You smile at that, eyes still watery. He leads you to the sink, fills it with warm water, adds a few drops of strawberry soap. And together, you bathe the bloodstained princess, while the scent of bleach and iron still lingers in the air behind you.

[cyberkitty1]

DRIVING ME CRAZY

RAFE CAMERON X READER

there were little things rafe did that drove you insane. like, actually insane.

it wasn’t even the obvious stuff. not just the smirk he knew how to weaponize or the way his voice got all low when he whispered something in your ear. no, it was the dumb, simple stuff that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.

like when he stretched.

it always happened when he was barely paying attention—arms raised over his head, back arching slightly, and that shirt riding up just enough to show a sliver of his toned stomach. it was ridiculous. unfair, even. you’d be mid-conversation, and suddenly your brain short-circuited because rafe’s shirt decided to be too short for three seconds.

“you good?” he’d ask, catching you staring with a cocky grin because of course he noticed.

“yep. totally fine,” you’d lie, sipping your drink and refusing to make eye contact.

then there were parties. you didn’t even want to talk about parties. because every single time, without fail, rafe would lean down to hear you better when it got too loud.

and not in a normal way. no. he’d dip his head just enough so your lips were practically brushing his ear, one hand lazily resting on your hip like it was second nature.

“what’d you say, babe?” he’d murmur, voice low and close enough to make your skin tingle.

you’d have to swallow the sudden urge to kiss him right there, barely managing to repeat yourself without your voice cracking.

and don’t even get started on the way he held you by the waist.

it wasn’t even like he was trying to be romantic half the time. he’d pass by you in the kitchen and just… casually rest a hand on your waist as he moved around you. or he’d pull you close while standing in line somewhere, his fingers drumming softly against your hip like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you were convinced he had no idea what he was doing to you.

except, well… he totally did

-

Sorry i went ghost ☹️ feel free to send in requests!!!

[rafeandonlyrafe]

whatever you want

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, ab riding, tit fucking, semi public sex, established relationship, cumming in mouth, mentions of future and past sex, lots of talk about rafes muscles, reader is kinda described as having big (or at least decent sized) breasts, lots of banter can these bitches just shut up and fuck oh my goddddd

“again.” you call, almost sounding drunk despite being completely sober.

rafe sighs, rolling his eyes, but the side of his lip quirks up, unable to hide how much he likes your fascination.

rafe flexes again, his arms bulging and pecs tightening. you reach out, smoothing your hands over the hard muscles.

“you're so strong.” you coo, sat on rafes lap despite the hot temperature of the day, which resulted in rafe pulling his shirt off.

"you're acting like you've never seen me shirtless before.” rafe says with a chuckle.

“shh, let me appreciate you.” you shake your head. sure, you've seen him shirtless plenty of times but rafe was bulking up for summer and it caused all his muscles to be deliciously defined.

“alright, whatever.” rafe flexes again, not going to argue too much when he has your hands obsessively touching every part of his body.

your hands move down to his stomach, fingers running over his abs. “if you let me ride your abs, i’d let you do whatever you want to me.”

“you-” rafe places his hands on his hips, sitting up straighter. “you want to ride my abs?”

“yeah.” you nod, quirking your head to the side. “you know, like rub my pussy against them.”

“shit, do it right now.” rafe looks down at your short shorts, barely covering more than your underwear does.

“yes!” you squeal out, hopping up and tugging your bottoms and panties off, not caring that you’re in the backyard and anyone could theoretically come by. “lay back.” you instruct.

rafe lays on the couch, smiling up at you as you climb on top of him. “you’ll have to flex for me as im doing this.” you inform rafe, placing your pussy on his abdomen. “especially your pecs.” you poke his chest.

“you’re such a slut for my body.” rafe chuckles, hands coming to your hips, pushing you further down, feeling your wetness as your thighs spread even more open.

“i can’t help that you’re so sexy.” you shrug, hips starting to move back and forth in a slow rock, carefully building up the pace, wanting to enjoy being sat on his stomach.

you lean forward, placing your hands on his chest for stability, pressing your clit further against his muscles. rafe flexes his muscles and they harden underneath you.

“rafe!” you squeal. 

“i guess you like that, huh?” rafes hands squeeze at your hips and lift up, placing you harder back down on his stomach. “oh, you like that too.” he smiles as he bounces you again and you moan out.

“i really like that.” you hum, eyes struggling to stay open with the pleasure, but you want to keep your eyes on rafe beneath you. its rare he lets you take over like this.

you moan as you both bounce, using your knees to go up and down while rafe assists so you don’t get burnt out. 

you pull your top off, revealing the bikini top you’re wearing underneath, ready to go swimming whenever you’re done playing with rafe, needing to get in the water on this sweltering day.

“jesus, your tits are perfect.” rafe smiles as he watches your chest bouncing, sitting up to rub his face in between your pushed together breasts, the bikini top holding them tight together.

“not as perfect as yours.” you giggle, hands squeezing at his chest, palms over his nipples.

“don’t call them tits.” rafe rolls his eyes as he lays back, head against the cushion.

“well, whatever you wanna call them, i fucking love your muscles. your pecs-” you squeeze your hands again, digging into his soft flesh until rafe flexes and they harden. “your biceps-” you move your hands, and rafe flexes again, his muscles bulging. “your abs.” this time you press your pussy down, rubbing against the contours and ridges.

“you’re lucky that you offered to let me do whatever i want to you otherwise i wouldn’t have agreed to this.” rafe smirks.

“oh yeah?” you raise an eyebrow. “what are you gonna do to me?” there’s truly nothing rafe could do to your body that wouldn’t bring you pleasure, you glow just under his attention alone.

“fuck your tits.” rafe smirks, eyes moving down from your face to your chest. “as soon as your done, right here for anyone to see.”

“damn, you could do anything and you don’t want to fuck my asshole or tie me up?” you laugh, expecting something more from rafe.

“you’d let me do all that whenever anyways.” rafe pushes your hips down, grinding you against him. you moan and lean forward, your hands coming back to rafes chest. 

“keep doing that.” you whimper, eyes sliding closed as your mouth drops open, moans filling the air and being carried away by the wind. 

rafe keeps moving, the veins in his forearm flexing as your wetness spreads over his abs, coating them in your slick, allowing your pussy to drag even easier.

“im-im close.” you warn, swallowing thickly.

rafe grunts and increases his hold, tightening his grip on your hips so you can’t slip loose, grinding you down as he flexes his abs, the hardness rubbing against your clit making you moan out, body falling forward as you cum hard, shaking as rafe lets up on you, hands loosening and moving to rub your back.

“fuck.” you whine, snuggling into his chest, letting your hips drop down, feeling rafes hardness pressing against your stomach.

rafe starts to move as you cry out, not ready to do anything more than close your eyes and feel his warmth against your cheek.

“come on, brat.” rafe chuckles. “i wanna fuck your tits while you’re all spaced out from your orgasm. you know i love you like this.” 

you hum a sound thats close enough to agreement that rafe flips you so you’re underneath him, laying on your back on the couch as he stands.

“you’re so gorgeous like this.” rafe says as he undoes his belt buckle, then pushing his pants and underwear down, his hard cock popping up.

“wanna taste.” you whine, eyes still droopy.

“nope.” rafe shakes his head. “we made a deal. i know you like to taste me, but im fucking your tits. take your top off.”

rafe pulls at the strings of your bikini, flinging it away to reveal your pink nipples to the sunlight.

“fine, but will you at least cum a little in my mouth?” you pout as rafe kneels on either side of you, glad that the outdoor couch is big enough for all of these activities.

“sure, baby.” rafe chuckles, just another way of showing how desperate you are for him.

rafes hands land on your tits, palms rubbing on your nipples, feeling them harden against his palms, not unlike when he was flexing his muscles for you earlier.

rafes hands move to the sides of your breasts, pushing them together. “god, you look so fuckable right now.”

“yeah? gonna fuck me later then? maybe out on the boat hm? after you’re done with my tits?”

“the boat, the bed, the counter, the shower, im gonna have you everywhere.” rafe bends down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

you smile up at him, a lazy, tired smile. rafe angles his hips down, the head of his cock pushing against the underside of your tits before slipping in between them.

“oh!” your eyebrows raise, surprised at the unusual feeling, but certainly not disliking it as he begins to move back and forth.

“shit.” rafe grunts. “fuck.”

you swat rafes hands away, pressing your tits together for him. rafe leans forward, hands landing on either side of your neck, his face contorted in pleasure directly over yours.

you look down, eyes watching the head of rafes cock appearing and disappearing between your breasts.

“this is- this is fucking good.” rafe grunts, moving faster. “im- im not gonna last very long.”

you stick your tongue out, rafes cock just long enough to hit it with the tip of his cock as he thrusts. you relish the taste, pulling your tongue back into your mouth every couple thrusts to spread the taste.

“thats it, baby.” rafe moans, one hand moving to your mouth, two fingers pulling at the side of your lip, spreading your mouth wider.

you moan out, tongue open and ready for his cum. rafe fucks forward as fast as he can, just like he does your pussy when you spread your legs wide for him.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say as he surges forward, burying his cock in your mouth as his hand wraps around his length, stroking up and down as he reaches his high, cum spurting into your mouth as you happily swallow.

rafe moans slowly die out and become quieter until hes pulling out of your mouth. “get up my legs are about to give out.” he says quickly, and you barely slide off the couch before he collapses.

you giggle and climb on top of him, pressing kisses to his cheek as his chest heaves up and down.

“im guessing you liked that.” you rub your thumb over his bottom lip.

“yeah.” rafe smiles, his eyes sliding shut.

“so, boat ride now?”

“jesus, woman give me a second.” rafe laughs, pulling you into a gentle kiss.

[simpforboys]

frat!perv!manipulative!rafe who’s obsessed with topper’s dumb gf…

(warnings: shameless groping, dry humping, reader is innocent and ditsy, cheating (?))

series masterlist

Sweet Jesus, no way you were actually that dumb?

When Rafe walked into the dorm he shared with Topper at the Sigma Alpha Phi fraternity house, he wasn’t too shocked to see you. After all, you were with his best friend.

“Hiya, Rafey.” You sweetly called out to him, lying on your stomach and mindlessly kicking your feet behind you while you scrolled on Instagram.

“Mhm, hey, pretty girl. Whaddya doin’ here alone? Top ditch you?” Rafe questioned, throwing his backpack down on his side of the room.

“He’s in the bathroom.” You murmur, eyes still glued to your phone as a funny meme came up, and you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

Rafe hummed in response, a small smirk curling onto his lips as he took in your outfit. A mini denim skirt, babydoll shirt, and… white lace panties.

Rafe knew you weren’t the smartest or most aware girl in the world, but your sweet and bubbly personality made up for the lack of it. And he can’t say he minded, really. Not when he always got to see peeks up those little skirts you wore or your bra every now and then.

“Sweetness, y’know your panties are hangin’ out, yeah?” Rafe scoffed, walking the five feet over to your boyfriend’s bed.

His large hands moved to grip your soft cheeks, pulling them apart to see the white piece of fabric barely covering your cunt.

You peered over your shoulder, seeing Rafe squeezing and touching your butt. It wasn’t anything new, Rafe always touched you like that when Topper was gone. But you were okay with it, because he always assured you that he was just looking out for you as his best friend’s girlfriend.

“‘m sorry, Rae. Didn’t realize.” You mumbled, before turning back to scroll on your phone, genuinely believing Rafe was fixing your skirt for you.

He climbs up onto the lifted bed, knees on either sides of your hips. “This skirt s’so damn frustratin’… doesn’t wanna come down this pretty ass.”

“Fix it, Rae.” You huffed, adding another post to your close friends story.

Rafe rolled his eyes. Damn brat. But his cock was painfully hard against his shorts, and he knew Topper took forever in the bathroom. “Yeah, baby, ‘m fixin’ it.”

So, his hands lifted your hips a bit, presenting more of your (barely) clothed cunt and ass to him. He pressed his erection against it, grinding slowly at first.

You just kept scrolling, unaware Rafe was dry humping you shamelessly on your boyfriend’s bed — because he was fixing your skirt.

He had to bite down on his lip to keep a moan from leaving the back of his throat. Your pussy was so fucking warm against his bulge, the lace revealing most of it.

And every day Rafe hates himself for not getting with you before Topper did. But, some sick part of him also liked the thrill of doing this on his best friend’s bed, with your ditsy brain.

The adrenaline coursing through him was enough to make him throw his head back a little, sculpted hips moving a bit quicker as he let out a strangled whimper.

His bulge directly hit your clothed clit, making you gasp out. “R-Rafey, are you fixin’ it?”

“Yeah, sweetness. Jus’ hold still f’me…”

He grunted, hands digging into your hips. The sound of your gasp and the delicious — yet not enough, friction felt made his hips stutter, eyes squeeze shut, a small moan leaving him as he cums in his shorts.

He pants a little before he snaps out of it, and reluctantly pulls your skirt down to cover most of your ass. The tall boy then climbs off the bed, looking down at you, still giggling at some meme.

And then Topper finally came in, bidding his friend a “hey”, unaware that his roommate just dry humped his girlfriend.

[khioneee]

trying to break up with your fuck buddy, rafe

rafe paces. back and forth. hand running through his hair, jaw tight, eyes sharp with something between frustration and disbelief.

‘you want to stop?’ his voice is even, but there’s an edge to it.

you nod, arms crossed over your chest. ‘yeah.’

‘why?’ his head tilts, eyes scanning your face like he’s searching for an answer that actually makes sense to him.

‘i don’t like what this is turning me into,’ you say, voice steady. ‘it’s not who i am. and i don’t want it to be.’

he exhales sharply, turning on his heel and pacing again. ‘where is this coming from?’

‘i’m not blaming you for anything, rafe.’ you sigh, feeling the weight of this conversation sink into your bones. ‘i just realized i don’t want to be another girl in your rotation.’

he stops mid-step, turning to face you. ‘rotation?’

you hold his gaze. ‘you know what i mean.’

his jaw tenses. ‘you knew what this was,’ he says, voice low, careful.

‘i did,’ you agree. ‘and now i know i don’t want it.’

he drags a hand down his face, shaking his head. ‘i thought everything was fine.’

‘it was,’ you admit. ‘but i’m a ‘girlfriend’ kind of girl, rafe. i have boyfriends, not fuck buddies.’

rafe lets out a dry laugh, almost disbelieving. he starts pacing again, steps restless, like he needs to move or he’ll explode.

then, from outside, a familiar voice cuts through the tension.

‘rafe! come on, man, we’re waiting!’ topper, followed by laughter and girls’ voices, high and sweet.

your stomach turns, but you don’t react. instead, you nod toward the door.

‘you should go,’ you say softly.

a pause, a sharp inhale. his jaw clenches. ‘we’re not done.’

‘i said what i needed to say.’ you swallow the lump in your throat. ‘you have girls waiting for you.’

he stops pacing. his expression hardens. ‘you think that’s what this is about?’

‘i think it doesn’t matter,’ you answer. ‘because you’re not my boyfriend, and you don’t owe me anything.’

his hands curl into fists at his sides. ‘you’re doing that thing again.’

‘what thing?’

‘acting like you don’t care.’

you inhale sharply. ‘i do care, rafe. that’s the problem.’

something flickers in his expression. for the first time, he looks uncertain. like this wasn’t supposed to happen. like he never considered the possibility of you walking away.

he starts pacing again, steps quicker now, frustration rolling off him in waves. ‘so what? you’re just done?’

you nod. ‘yeah.’

he stops. looks at you. then, after a beat, he says, ‘fine.’

you hesitate. ‘fine, what?’

‘i’ll be your boyfriend.’

you blink, caught off guard. ‘what?’

‘you want a relationship?’ he shrugs, like it’s the easiest fix in the world. ‘done.’

‘that’s not how this works.’

‘why not?’ his voice is sharper now, defensive. ‘you said you don’t want to be just another girl— fine. be my girlfriend.’

you shake your head, a humorless laugh escaping. ‘jesus, rafe.’

‘what?’

‘you don’t even want to be my boyfriend. you just don’t want to see me with someone else.’

his jaw tightens, and for the first time, he stops pacing. stands still.

‘you can’t just decide to be in a relationship because you don’t like the idea of losing me,’ you say, voice softer now. ‘that’s not love, rafe. that’s possession.’

his lips part slightly, but no words come out.

‘you don’t know how to do this,’ you continue gently. ‘how to be with someone in a way that isn’t just about control.’

he exhales, slow and deep, fingers rubbing at his jaw as he looks away for a moment. when he meets your gaze again, there’s something different there. hesitation, sure. but also something you weren’t expecting.

fear.

‘i don’t want to lose you,’ he admits, voice quiet now.

your breath catches. ‘then be better.’

rafe swallows. ‘tell me how.’

‘you already know how,’ you whisper. ‘you just have to choose it.’

the silence stretches between you again, but this time, it’s different.

it’s not heavy. it’s hopeful.

then, from outside, topper calls out again. ‘rafe! you coming or what?’

rafe doesn’t even look toward the door.

‘nah,’ he calls back, eyes still locked on yours. ‘i’m good.’

your heart was about to try to break out from behind your ribs.

his gaze softens. ‘stay?’

you hesitate. ‘rafe—’

he shakes his head, stepping closer. ‘if i say i can do this, then i can do this.’

you search his face for the lie, the excuse, the escape route he’s bound to take. but there isn’t one.

he raised your hands to his mouth and kissed the tip of each of your fingers in turn. your thumb, your index finger, your middle finger, your ring finger, finally your pinky, and then, your gaze caught the black cross that rested on the centre of his chest.

you wonder if his heart beats steadily.

his lips twitch, just slightly, into the kind of smirk that used to make you roll your eyes. ‘i’ll be the last boyfriend you’ll have,’ he murmurs. ‘you’ll see.’

your chest tightens, but this time, it’s not with dread.

‘okay,’ you whisper.

he grins, triumphant. ‘yeah?’

you exhale, a small smile creeping onto your lips despite yourself.

‘yeah.’

an. inspired by rory and logan.

[rafesbimbo]

Hiii!! Can I request gynecologist rafe x fem reader that can’t orgasm and he helps her (some smut)

Tysm, love your stories!! <3

warnings: smut, taboo, age gap (19/29), medical kink, orgasm therapy, fingering, dirty talk, dominant!rafe, nervous!reader, lowercase

pairing: gynecologist!rafe cameron x fem!reader

you’re not sure what’s worse—the paper gown, the stirrups, or the fact that the man standing between your knees is painfully attractive.

dr. rafe cameron.

“first time?”

he asks, voice low and smooth. he doesn’t look like any doctor you’ve ever seen. slicked-back hair, perfect teeth, sleeves rolled up to show strong, veiny forearms. his gold watch catches the light.

you nod. “yeah.”

his eyes flick down to your trembling knees. “nervous?”

“a little,” you whisper, even though your heart’s beating so hard it’s making your chest ache.

he hums, scribbling something on the clipboard.

“you’re nineteen. no birth control. no active partners. but you made this appointment yourself. so what’s goin’ on, baby?”

your cheeks burn.

god.

this is so embarrassing.

you look down at your hands, fingers fidgeting in your lap.

“i… i can’t finish.”

his brow lifts. “what do you mean?”

you hesitate. then, in a small voice, “i’ve never had an orgasm. not with someone. not by myself.”

he doesn’t laugh. doesn’t make a face. he just stares at you for a second like he’s reading you.

“how long you been tryin’?”

you shrug. “a couple of years.. i thought something was wrong with me.”

he steps closer. “nothing’s wrong with you.” a pause. “some girls just need a little help.”

your breath catches. “you mean…?”

his voice drops. “i mean, if you’re open to it, i can do an internal evaluation. a hands-on assessment. we’ll go slow. see if we can figure out what’s keepin’ you from letting go.”

you blink up at him, wide-eyed. “that’s… allowed?”

he smiles. “with your consent? yeah, baby. i’m licensed to make you feel good.”

you shiver.

he helps you lie back on the table, spreading your legs gently into the stirrups. the gown falls open. you’re bare under it. skin prickles as the cool air hits your center.

his eyes drag down your body, hungry. “pretty little thing,” he mutters, almost to himself. then louder, “i’ll start with just one finger.”

you nod, breath shaky.

he gloves up, squirts a little lube onto his fingers, and presses one thick finger inside you. slow. smooth. your body clenches around the intrusion, and he pauses.

“tight,” he murmurs. “you ever use toys?”

you shake your head. “just fingers.”

“makes sense.” he pushes deeper, his other hand resting on your thigh to keep you still. “gonna feel around a little. let me know if anything feels good.”

you can’t speak—you’re already panting. he curls his finger upward, and your hips jolt.

he smirks. “there she is.”

he presses again. and again. and each time your back arches a little more. you’re gasping now, whimpering when he adds a second finger, stretching you wider.

his thumb brushes your clit, slow and steady. “you’ve been waitin’ for this, huh?”

“y-yeah,” you breathe.

“just needed someone to show you how your body works. someone who knows how to make you cum.”

his fingers speed up, thumb rubbing harder. your thighs shake, breath ragged.

“rafe—i—”

he mumbles low. “that’s dr. cameron to you, baby. say it.”

“dr. cameron,” you whine.

“that’s right. say it again when you come.”

your whole body is burning. your hands clutch the paper beneath you, hips grinding into his palm. it builds so fast you almost don’t believe it—your first real orgasm crashing through you like lightning, loud and hot and blinding.

you moan his name as you fall apart, legs trembling. he doesn’t stop until you’re whimpering, too sensitive to take it.

he finally pulls out, fingers glistening. he watches the way your pussy flutters, still clenching around nothing.

“fuck,” he mutters. “we’re definitely gonna need a follow-up appointment.”

[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ cherie's milestone celebration!

hihi! thank you all for so much love and support, it baffles me that anybody is interested in the stuff i write, and is willing to stick around for more. so grateful i get to share my writings so vulnerably and i can have others enjoy my creations. thank you from the bottom of my heart, i appreciate every single one of you! <3

that being said, please be advised that this post includes links to NSFW videos/pictures. please do not engage if you are a minor, thank you! all of these links are posted on twitter/X and will not work unless you have an account + are logged in. be mindful of the content you consume!

RAFE CAMERON

rafe fucking his cum back into you.

rafe & his gamer girlfriend.

his fav position so he can watch your tits bounce & where you both connect.

there’s nothing he loves more than making you a squirming mess.

poor guy couldn't even make it home before pouncing on you. :(

throat training his favourite girl. <3

the kinds of videos in his phone.

BSF!RAFE

eating you out & making you squirm after he accidentally yells at you.

clinging to anything for stability while rafe fucks you, and it just happens to be the teddy bear your ex-boyfriend gifted!

it's not wrong if he doesn't stick it in, right?

FRAT!RAFE

shoving your face against the mattress of his grungy dorm room.

quickie in his truck (the snapback stays on during sex).

STEPBRO!RAFE

rafe loves playing with your pussy almost as much as he loves actual sex.

testing the waters with his sweet little stepsis.

absolutely adores that tiny excuse of a skirt, gives him easy access. continued.

trying to keep you quiet while your family's home + size kink.

helping each other get off.

cumming against your clothed, soaking slit.

he catches you fucking yourself, so he'll met you halfway and spare you the work.

needs to have his hands on you whenever he feels like.

first time home alone together.

POGUE!RAFE

taking care of his good girl. <3

loves being in control and making you take it.

size kink.

[rafeys-angel13]

only here for her

co-parenting with rafe who’s giving you mixed signals.

the doorbell rang at around 5:00pm, late.

you open the door to see rafe, stood there with his usual scowl clouding his face.

“hey” he mumbles. “sorry i’m late”

“she just finished eating her dinner.” you step to the side to let him in.

he spots maisie and crouches infront of her.

“hey, babygirl.” he murmurs and scoops her up with ease and held her on his hip, his hand pushing some hair out of her face.

“she’s been waiting for you all afternoon. she thought every car that drove by was you, she’s been running to the window to check if it was you.” you chuckle softly, rubbing maisie’s back.

“was my little girl getting impatient?” he smiles and kisses maisie’s head. maisie reaches out and smacks his face lightly, making you both laugh.

“god, she’s getting big. haven’t seen her in two weeks and she’s already grown so much.” he smiles softly.

“she misses you… she’s always asking for you…” you nod, trying to keep your voice from trembling.

he tares his eyes away from maisie’s face and looks at you with a serious expression.

“i’ll do better, i swear.” he nods, his grip on maisie tightening slightly. “i’m working on myself more…”

you nod even though you don’t believe him. he always says that, yet nothing ever changes.

“you’re such a good mom…” he says genuinely.

“thanks” you smile genuinely.

for a moment, it felt like there was no walls between you two. like things could be different between you. like you could actually work together.

but you remind yourself he’s not here for you. he’s only here for her. just her.

not you. not to rebuild the relationship you once had. to pick up your daughter and leave again.

as stupid as it sounds, you wish he came to see you— just for you. not for maisie.

“so… how’ve you been?” rafe asks out of the blue.

“um- yeah fine” you nod, instantly snapping out of your thoughts.

he nods and looks around the room, rocking maisie a little who lets out a big yawn.

“big yawn, baby…” he chuckles and nuzzles his nose against her soft hair.

he looks at his watch then sighs, looking over at you.

“i should get going”

“yeah, of course. it’s past her bedtime anyway” you nod and walk over to the front door, opening it and he follows you.

he holds maisie out and you take her into your arms. you hug her and give her a soft kiss on the cheek.

“bye, sweetheart… i’ll see you soon” you smile and hand her back to rafe.

he leans in for a hug himself. strange.

without thinking, you hug him back and he presses a kiss to your head.

what the hell is going on with him?

first he doesn’t even want to look at you, now he’s hugging and kissing you.

“stay safe, okay?” he murmurs as he pulls away, squeezing your arm gently.

“yeah… you too” you nod, still confused by his actions.

“okay, bye” he smiles and makes maisie wave before heading to the car.

you wave until he drives off and the shut the door.

you’ll never be able to figure that man out, that’s for sure.

-

- dividers by @saradika-graphics and @strangergraphics

- request a fic

[poguehearted77]

Winter's Chance

Summary: It's Rafe's turn to have your son for the weekend, but it seems the weather wants you to spend the holidays together.

--Finally some Baby Daddy Rafe

With delicate rubs to your son's tummy, you desperately tried to get him to calm down with soft pleads and overeager soothing. He'd been fussing all day, so much that you'd called the doctor to make sure everything was okay.

They simply reassured you that it may just be a prolonged stage of fussiness. Most babies grow out of it around 4 months which is exactly where Max had just reached a few weeks ago.

Just when he was finally beginning to calm for a moment your ears are filled with the chime of your doorbell. Max picks up his crying as if he had never stopped. Your eyes roll, already knowing who is on the other side of the door.

You gently scooped him up to rest over your shoulder on top of the little binkie you tend to have thrown over your shoulder at all times for moments like this. He was cute, but the spit-up was never pretty and you were always prepared.

Opening the door from a distance you weren't expecting to see Rafe step in partially covered in snow. It distracted you momentarily before Max's cries cut through the shock.

"I know, I know." You whine, gently rocking him, backing away from the cold air that swept against your feet. "Hurry up, and close the door." His eyes roll, "Hello to you too." He closes the door and stomps off the snow from his boots before stepping out of them and hanging up his jacket.

"Woah, woah, what are you doing? This is just a pick-up, then you can have fun trying to calm him down at your place." Rafe stands still, his thumb gesturing to the door behind him, "You haven't seen the news, have you? They're closing the roads, so we're snowed in. The only reason I made it here is because of the suspension on my truck."

Your face turns sour and Max continues to cry.

"So why did you come in the first place if you knew you wouldn't be able to make it back?" He ignores your question for the most part, "Relax, baby. As excited as you are to see me, I didn't come for you. I came for my son. There he is," Rafe's expression lights up as he reaches for Max and takes him out of your hold.

"Rafe you can't just take him and expect him to calm-"

For the first time in seven hours, silence consumes the room. No more screams and tearful cries. "You've got to be fucking with me," You don't say it loudly, but Rafe still hears.

"Guess he was just missin' his daddy, huh? Isn't that right, Max?" Rafe's tone is playful as he pokes at Max's tummy which elicits tiny giggles and the brightest smile you'd seen all day.

You walk away, headed towards the kitchen. Not sure why you were moving so fast, Rafe was hot on your heels. "It's not your fault, it's probably just been a long day-" He finally shuts the fuck up with his smug remarks when he hears a soft cry, "Y/n," Your name rolls off his tongue, tender and sweet. "Baby, what's wrong?" Effortlessly, he supports Max with one hand while he reaches to turn you so you're facing him.

Your eyes are filled with tears, lips quivering ever so slightly and he knows what's coming. He's seen you like this more times than he can count. He takes you under his arm, your cheek pressed to his chest and you break down, muttering into the fabric of his hoodie.

He comforts you with a big hand rubbing your back, soothing you the way he learned from those parenting books that he swear he never read. "It's so hard, Rafe." Is all you manage to say through broken cries for the first five minutes before you're pushing off him, expression more angry than upset? "He was crying all day, and the second you walk in, he's perfectly fine."

Rafe's lips frown, puzzled. "And that's a bad thing?--"

"Yes! Why do you get to be Superman?!" Earlier, the sound of a pin drop would disturb Max from calming, but now even your exclamations left him unfazed, as long as he was in Rafe's arms he was unbothered.

As a matter of fact, with a second glance, you notice he'd actually fallen asleep. Just Perfect. Another win for Superman.

He chuckles, leading you both to have a seat on the couch. Your son sleeping soundly in his father's hold. "Well, I think I've got the abs for it." His shit-eating grin spreads across his lips.

"You try carrying a baby in your stomach for nine months, and you tell me if you still have abs after." Subtly, his tongue wets his lips at the memory, "All I remember is how good you looked pregnant. Shit, wanna do it again?" You'd never wanted to hurt someone so badly.

"You're lucky you're holding my son." He scoffs, leaning in slightly as if to speak away from the baby. "I seem to remember the two of us going half on the conception, and a few times after that." You air-swat him and stand, making your way for the stairs. "I'm going to take a nap."

The hours flew by as you finally had your first uninterrupted nap in what felt like years. By the time you woke up, the sun was long gone, and there was a thick layer of fresh snow sitting on your window pane. You headed downstairs and stopped at the bottom of the steps to appreciate the view.

Nothing melted you quite like the sight of Rafe taking care of Max. You hated to admit it, but he was a good dad. A really good one. Hot, too. Rafe held the bottle to Max's lips, murmuring some undistinguishable babbles with a soft smile. Surely speaking a language only the two of them can understand.

"I hope you warmed the bottle before you gave it to him." You say, and he finally notices you standing by the stairs, stalking your way over and sitting beside him.He ignores you, knowing that you're just trying to get under his skin. "You look well rested." He remarks and you sigh with a soft nod. "Yeah, I am actually." He grins to himself, "Must be a miracle to sleep well on that cheap-ass mattress you got up there."

"Sorry, we can't all have premium mattresses." Rafe pulls the bottle back once he realizes Max has had his fill. "Y'know my money is your money right? I give you ten thousand a month but everything I have is yours, too." Standing him up on his lap first, Rafe holds the baby over his shoulder, gently patting his back.

"Well, I don't need to live in a fifteen thousand sq ft house to be happy unlike you." He shakes his head slowly, his gaze falls on you, somber. "I seem happy to you? I don't give a shit how big my place is. It's always going to be empty without you two in it... " He trails off, alluding there's more to come.

"Rafe.. What are you saying?"

"Move in with me, again." Your head shakes before you sputter profuse denials, "No, Rafe, we can't we tried that before remember? We don't get along. Technically, we're not even together." The conversation is briefly interrupted by a small gurgled burp on Max's behalf.

Rafe leans down to place a drowsy Max in his rocker in front of the couch before sitting back up. "Things were different then, we were eighteen. I can't do the back-and-forth anymore. Don't you wanna wake up in the morning, see that Max is taken care of and I'm making you breakfast, then we go back to bed and I take care of you? Huh?" He hums, his voice igniting sparks along the length of your neck as he nosed along it.

"Rafe.." your voice is shaky, feeling the heat from the discussion.

"Whadd'ya say, hm?" You reflect, having Rafe stay with you today, in just a few short hours you'd been able to take a break, he held you when you cried like he always did. You'd hardly even fought. Though that was no surprise, the two of you fought considerably less ever since Max came into the picture.

"Okay, yes." You can feel the lines from his smile stretch against your jaw just before he begins to pepper kisses on your cheek. "Y'know, we made the world's cutest baby ever right?" You smile, both your gazes focused on the little one before you.

"He's got your eyes, for sure." Rafe states and you giggle, "You're just saying that because they're brown." He sits up straight, heartfully disagreeing. "I'm not. They're the same eyes that I fell in love with when I first laid my eyes on you, and the same ones that humbled me when they looked up at me for the first time in the NICU."

His words were touching. You're seeing a whole new side of him. Not the usually hot-headed and impulsive man you were used to. This one was sweeter, softer, and more sincere.

You reeled him in for the first kiss, his lips soft as they pressed against yours, his hands confidently holding you at your waist. "Ah, I see you're taking me up on my previous offer. Let's go for a girl this time, yeah?" He grins, and you pinch him.

[robinsgrl]

toxic baby daddy rafe does something to me. no soft rafe (only with his girls and only sometimes). he’s abrasive and harsh. even more when someone messes with you. yooo where my panties at

mdni 18+

It’s been three months. Three months without Rafe as your boyfriend. Three months of his only title in your life being your baby daddy. There were days where you would refuse to even call him that.

In high school, you loved the sound of his voice. You loved how the palm of his hand felt at the small of your back. You loved that being around him brought you a sense of peace.

Now, all you two do is argue. About everything and anything. Even if you do start half of them. Not now, though.

“What I do in my spare time is none of your business!” Luckily, Samara’s in the living room, her noise cancelling headphones on as she watches some YouTube show, giggling when something funny comes up. You’d usually try and pay attention to her screen time but you can’t when Rafe is in your home and bitching at you.

“So you’re whoring it up when Samara’s with me?” His words are harsh, spitting them at you.

Your eyes are wide and bewildered as you look up at him, chest rising and falling from the intense match you’re having. “Listen to yourself! Whoring it up? Are you from the fifties? Women can have sex without being called a whore nowadays!”

“So you are fucking someone? Who is he.” It’s not a question. It’s a goddamn demand and you hate the way it makes your knees feel weak.

You scoff loudly, rolling your eyes. “I’m not fucking anyone.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, ___, Topper fucking saw you.”

“Topper’s your dick rider.” You spit back out. It comes without warning. His big hand falls on your neck, tightening around you. Your back pushes up against the wall, eyes wide and up on his as he stares down at you angrily.

His face nears yours, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. A shudder runs through your body and you want to shut your legs to help ease the sensation between them but he forces his knee to you. “I’ll kill any man who gets near you, do you fucking hear me?” His words are low and menacing. From anyone else, it’d be scary. It’d drive you away and straight to goddamn police station. But from him? You can’t deny how good it feels.

Rafe’s always been protective of you. Since you two met, he’s hovered around you like a scary dog, growling at anyone who came your way. It grew when you got knocked up in your senior year of high school. And it grew tenfold when your baby girl was born. But it got to be suffocating. You broke it off with him and it took him two weeks to realize you were being serious.

You would never admit that you made a mistake. Not ever. Admitting that you miss him only lets him win. It gives him a point. And yes, you should be mature enough to realize this isn’t a game but he’s so damn cocky about it. The last thing you need from Rafe is a bigger ego.

“Who is he?”

“Eric. Eric Jones.” You admit easily, breath shaky and full of a need for him.

“Did he fuck you?”

You can’t answer. He repeats himself.

“Did he fuck you?”

You nod, hands falling to his arm as his hand tightens on your neck. His eyes won’t leave your face, taking you in completely. You can see it all. The anger. The jealousy. The twinge of hurt. He pulls his hand from your neck and pulls away from you. “Call your mother. Tell her to pick Samara up.”

“What?”

“Just fucking do it.” And you do. Like always, you do as told and Samara’s off with her grandma for the night.

“He can’t fuck you like I can.” You’re a drooling mess as he pounds into you from behind, the sound of skin on skin meeting fills the room. His hand is in your hair, forcing your head back. “Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

The moans and whimpers coming from you won’t stop. You try to form words as he keeps shattering your world but it won’t come out. “Fucking slut. Answer me.” His hands trail down to your neck, pushing you up slightly to sit as he keeps fucking into you. Your back arches up against him, toes curling as you feel the building ache in the bottom of your belly.

He groans loudly as he feels your walls clench down on him as you curse out loud, grinding down on him to reach that peak you want so badly.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking tight. He couldn’t even fuck you right, could he? My poor girl, getting fucked by amateurs.” His fingers trail down to your freed tits, pinching at your pebbled nipples. “I don’t care what break you think we’re on, when you need a good fucking, come to me. No one can ever make you this cock drunk.”

You’re nodding frantically, “yes, yes, fuck, Rafe! Rafe! Oh, fuck!” You come undone when his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing at your sensitive and pulsing bundle of nerves.

At this very moment, you’re grateful for the house that Rafe bought you instead of cooping up in the one bedroom apartment you wanted when you moved out of his place. You had hated the power he had for giving you such a nice place but you’re grateful now as you moan and yell his name, body convulsing as his fingers keep working against you.

“Raaaafe, fuck!” He’s pushing deep and deeper as he pushes your front side back onto the bed. The overstimulation is making you writhe beneath him, pretty whimpers leaving your swollen and reddened lips. You can tell he’s reaching his own end when his thrusts become harder and longer, momentum slowing.

One pump. Two pumps. Three. Four. And he’s groaning in your ear, his front pressed up against your back as he comes inside of you from behind, your cunt fluttering around him at the full feeling of his load.

—

You awaken hours later to the bed dipping beside you. You had fallen asleep in Rafe’s arms after he had cleaned you up and whispered soothing and sweet nothings into your ear.

“Rafe?” You sit up tiredly, rubbing at your eyes to wipe the sleep away. His back is turned to you, the most relaxed you’d seen him in a while.

You scooch closer to him, pinched eyes trying to take a look at him. A small gasp leaves you as you see his bloodied and scarred hands. “Go back to sleep, baby.” His polo is covered in dribbles of blood, some drops of it drying up on his face.

You want to ask questions. You want to clean him up. But you can’t. You’re not a very good liar and the last time the police came around asking for your help, you almost broke, but Rafe was always thinking of you, his lawyer cleaning up the mess you made with the police. He had kissed and soothed you down from your teary apologies that night for being weak.

You nod, yawning softly, “okay… just… put the shirt in the wash.” It’s his turn to nod, a soft smile on his face as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

[imkissingjj]

EX BOYFRIEND!RAFE

ex boyfriend!rafe who refuses to move on. in his mind, you're still his and he won't let that go. no matter why the two of you split, he doesn't want any other girl. to him, no one comforts him the same, cusses him out when he's being crazy, and he knows no other man will ever come close. still calling you his "princess," picking you up for parties, and showing you off to everyone like you were still dating.

ex boyfriend!rafe still buying you shit—whatever you want, he'll buy it. not because he thinks it'll win you back, he loves seeing you in things that he got for you; makes him feel like he still has some sort of control over you. no other girl would ever receive gifts the way he spoils you—new bags, heels, the finest jewelry, all of it. rafe even had the audacity to gift you a necklace with his initials engraved in it, and knew you were still hooked on him the moment he seen you wear it. rafe especially loves getting your nails done—he chooses the color, length and everything, just to see what looks prettiest wrapped around his cock when he shows up to your house for sex.

ex boyfriend!rafe always lurking wherever you are, almost like he's stalking (even though he won't call it that—he know's he's obsessed). every party you attend, even if he shows to your house unannounced, he's always around. it's no secret how irresistible you'd always been, rafe's blood boiling anytime he fights off other men from trying to speak to you—and if you'd always known anything, it's that rafe didn't care about being violent, if it meant having you to himself then it'd be worth it. watching you flip your hair, giggle as your cheeks flushed and hips swayed in whatever mini dress you wore, appearing silent yet deadly when he'd snaked his arm around your waist like a claim.

ex boyfriend!rafe smug since he knows you won't hesitate to fuck him if he just asks. anytime, any day, you're easy to crack through in his eyes. all he has to do is show up smelling like cedar-wood and whiskey, speaking in that low, rough voice, and that signature, smug smirk he always gave—you'd melt right into his arms, and right onto his dick, like always.

always a quick text saying something like, "let me in pretty girl." even when you roll your eyes, your feet never fail to carry you across the floor. though, you didn't stand a chance anyways—the way he looked at you, smirking as his gaze burned down your figure. "missed me?"

arms crossed, you stared right back into his piercing, ocean colored eyes. "far from it rafe..."

"yeah, yeah, whatever...go upstairs and wait on me."

and you listened.

ex boyfriend!rafe who will always want you at the end of the day. he never misses a birthday, christmas, and even the date of your anniversary. rafe had always been someone you'd depend on. you knew he'd always defend you from creeps, comfort you whenever you weren't feeling your usual self, and you always did the same for him.