#trophy wife! reader x rafe

[rafesgoldrings]

Y’all already know trophy wife!reader had to be the first little teaser🤭 cannot wait to release the whole thing and feed you little sluts again

“Here? What if someone walks in Rafe?” you asked, hair a mess, mascara smudged under your eyes, and slightly out of breath.

“Then fucking let them see how much of a good little slut you really are for me”

Rafe had been on edge all morning, the meeting with one of his biggest clients hadn’t gone as smoothly as he was hoping which only pissed him off, and you’d offered a quick blowjob to try and help. He was rougher than usual, grabbing your hair and holding your head all the way down until you tapped on his leg begging for air, slapping your face when you pulled away too soon, but you were happy to help and it seemed to be working. One final look into your teary eyes sent him over the edge, cum shooting down your throat as you swallowed and stood on shaking legs thinking he’d send you back to work….but that’s not what happened.

“You’re going to lift this slutty little skirt above your hips, spread your fucking legs, and bend over the desk. Let me fuck this pretty pussy until I feel better yeah? It’s mine anyway”

[thecameronchronicles]

Consolation

TW: Smut. Language. Stepmother!Reader x Rafe Cameron. Angst. Mentions of verbal and physical abuse. Mentions of drugs (cocaine). Cheating. 

SUMMARY: An inappropriate kindness leads Rafe to take advantage of what you're offering. 

WORD COUNT: 2400

REQUESTED

Rafe and Ward get in a fight on Christmas morning so stepmom!reader tries to make him feel better 😏

Consolation 

You bit nervously at the tips of your nails upon hearing their raised timbres from the other side of the wall you'd hidden behind to eavesdrop. The very hand wearing your vow to the instigator of the interaction, dropped from your lips and into a fist at your side to how he spoke against his son. Such cruel words for a man who could convince an entire city that he was father of the year. It was the same mischievous smile that convinced you to ignore the age difference between you and scoffs as you joined his brigade of age appropriate friends. But with each passing day, you began to realize that Ward Cameron was a facade much like the property he sold. Pretty to look at. But broken from the inside out. 

Much like Rafe. 

"Great..." He scoffed as you'd become too lost in your thoughts to notice his presence emerge from your husband's office. You were quick to trace the echo of steps as you stood before Ward, who had the bridge of his nose in a pinch to showcase a coming migraine. 

"What is it this time?"

"You should be getting ready. Everyone will be here for dinner in less than an hour and the table still has to be set-"

"Ward-" His hand came down hard on the surface of his desk, rattling the decorations he kept in place since you could remember. 

"Sometimes I forget you're just a few years older than him. Remind me again why I put up with it? He is my son...but you..." He scoffed. 

"Don't push me. Could have another pretty little trophy wife by next Christmas. Maybe one who stopped questioning me-" He moved past you, leaving you concealing tears that brimmed behind natural looking makeup he critiqued even in the finest of lines. 

You waited a moment to compare yourself, ignoring the urge to break a picture frame of a time you believed you could have been happy. Those naive smiles of a pair of newlyweds and your new stepchildren you now felt you had to protect from their own father. But you had noticed something in this moment that had existed as unimportant until now. The way Rafe didn't look in the camera as Sarah and Wheezie had. Instead, he was looking at you. Not as a stepson should. And you felt, in this moment, not as a stepmother should. 

The sound of Ward acknowledging Sarah on the phone as she announced she would be a bit later than expected had left you thinking of Rafe. In truth, it was rare there was a time in which you weren't. He may have been a bit emotional, but he was passionate to protect what he cared about. He showed humanity within his endeavors, a trait clearly obtained more from his mother rather than his coldhearted father. 

"Hey..." You heard him sniffle, quickly hiding something beneath the pillow of his bed as you knew from former instances what it had been. Ignoring berating him for his vice as you couldn't blame him for wanting to be numb, you lifted the reason you'd come to his room now into view. 

"I think you could use this now..." You explained as he looked to the hallway. 

"Feel bad for eavesdropping?" He shot, taking out his anger on you, as you just set the gift closer to him. 

"Just open it…" 

You paused for a second in anticipation of his reaction as you found his gift to be the most difficult. For Sarah, it was easy with dainty jewelry that matched the sparkle behind her eyes. And Wheezie's maturing fashion called for more appropriate clothes you had been eager to offer. And Ward was simple with a new watch. But Rafe was complex. You'd thought about alcohol. Maybe a tie, as your thighs pressed together to the more sinful ways this could be used. And you even considered a gift card to some place he frequented. But it wasn't exactly like drug dealers had vouchers. So for that, you decided on this. 

"A key? Am I supposed to just guess what door it goes to?" He wasn't usually this short tempered and you pitied the reason why. It was why you dealt with it more than what you deserved. 

"It's to a boat. Your boat." You confessed. "I thought about what to get you and I realized you don't have anything of your own..."

His brows furrowed. 

"I have a boat."

"Your dad has a boat. But now you have your own to get out of here when things get...intense..." Something shifted in his gaze. The darkest behind his eyes had softened in realizing you were being genuine with him as he'd been waiting for the punchline. 

"It's in your name and all the paperwork is on the counter of the kitchenette there..."

"Show me? I don't think I can sit through a Christmas dinner with Sarah and John B." He clenched his teeth at the mention of the pogue who had changed her materialistic lifestyle she'd known. A part of him, jealous for the life she's escaped. 

Whether it was to spite Ward or distance yourself from him, you agreed before leading Rafe stealthily through the band of your husband's peers until making it to the dock. Climbing on board, you smirked to the heated living area contrasting the cold chill endured in the walk here. 

"You can change the name of the boat if you want. The last owner just asked you didn't take her into open water before-" His hands on your hips made you turn and face him in overwhelming bewilderment. 

"Rafe-"

"I  sure until now..." He explained, soft eyes darkened once again. Only this time with shameless lust. 

"I've caught you correcting your focus on me at dinner and I thought maybe you were just as bored as I was..." He scoffed. 

"Then a few months ago when my dad and I got into another...argument..." He clenched his teeth as you remembered the moment in question. The same one that was more than a few criss words. Ward's knuckles still wore the bruising from the anger he took out on his son. Perhaps deserved in the form of a scolding word, but never physical correction as he often exhibited as tough love. 

"You were quick to take my mind off of it. Dancing in that dress..." He scoffed, blowing back an exhale as she shook his head. 

"And now today. The boat-"

"Was a gift..." 

"Then why did you follow me out here? Because you wanted me to do this...to act on the electricity that's been there when you realized you married the wrong Cameron man..." He was now behind you, brushing your hair from your shoulder and neck, a smirk felt against your skin. 

"If you didn't want this...why did you jump at the chance to be alone with me?"

"I wanted to see your reaction to...to the boat..." He used his body to push you into the counter, his erection angry at your back. 

"And now you know...it's only fair I know yours..." 

"Rafe-"

"If you didn't want this...you shouldn't have followed me. You're smarter than that..." Before you could retaliate against your own body, your head was at a rest against his chest as his fingers climbed up your naked thigh in further ascension. 

"Does he make you come?"

"Rafe-"

"I'm not used to having to ask twice...Next time, it won't be so nicely..." 

"No..." You confessed. 

"But I bet you make him. Bet he just sees you naked and-"

"Stop..."

"The second you came aboard, you lost the chance to reject me. You've made it clear what you wanted. It's only fair I do the same." Two fingers ran circuits at your lower lips, prompting you to react against him. 

"Shit, you need this even more than I do."

"Please."

"What kind of guy would I be to not satisfy a wish on Christmas?" He teased, guiding you into a bend over the counter of the boat's kitchen counter. His hand came from your neck and to your skirt, fisting it to reveal the specific emerald lace beneath. 

"You wear these again and next time I'll use them to keep you quiet while I fuck you right outside his office. Maybe on his desk while he's taking an important call..."

"Rafe-" You gasped. 

"Too late to claim you don't want this. You're already drenched." He explained while keeping you at this angle before unlatching his own belt. The dress shirt he was guilted to wear, was unbuttoned but left on as the pants gathered at his ankles. 

"Rafe-"

"Merry Christmas, stepmother..." He smirked, his cock buried inside your sex as you gasped. What should have been guilt was silenced with necessity as you gripped the edges of the marble surface beneath you. 

"You got me a boat for Christmas and I'm going to make you come...Maybe christen every room? Isn't that what they do for boats-"

"That's houses..." You shot quickly, turning to face him. He took this as a chance to remind you of his dominance as he used his secondary hand to your jaw. 

"Oh, I plan on doing it in every room at home, too. Starting with yours. On the same bed you sleep next to him. That way maybe you can come when remembering how I made you...fisting those sheets...crying out for me...feeling me as deep as this..."

"Rafe!"

"Gotta teach you to be quiet...maybe you just need something in your mouth..." He set his thumb to your lips as you were quick to oblige. 

"Good girl." Your eye rolled to the praise as he smirked in having been made knowledgeable of this kink. 

"You feel better than any fucking gift." He pulled your skirt higher to take sight of the way your bare ass welcomed him. 

"But THIS...fuck...this is what I've thought about every night since I first laid eyes on you." He suddenly withdrew. 

"Get up on the counter. Palms flat. Look back at me." 

"Rafe-"

"You wanted to be alone with me. You wanted to make me feel better. So listen or you don't get to come." He smacked your exposed left cheek made you squeal. 

"Almost better than your moans." He took hold of the back of your neck. 

"Almost." 

You climbed over the marble, feeling his hands  greedily set to your exposed skin. 

"Since you're making me miss dinner." With a hand to your back, he kept you from bucking too high as his tongue made contact to your sex. Immediately, your body shivered with electrification from his unexpected yet necessary motions. 

"Look at me." He growled into your folds from behind. 

"Watch me make you come..." His eyes remained to you, drinking in the way you were coming undone so quickly, and loudly, for him. 

"Let me hear you, nobody else can...but I want to. I've earned it." He struck your right cheek, making you shiver, before returning to his oral fixation of your clit. 

"Rafe! I'm gonna come!"

"I know..." He smirked, the whites of your eyes made necessary as he now pulled his ringed finger to your sex. 

"Oh, you want it...don't you? Shit, you're fucking close...Fuck my finger...show me how badly you want it to be me-"

"Please, Rafe!"

"Show me!" He growled as you accelerated against his finger before he granted the fulfillment of two. 

"That's good...get real close for me..." You grunted and groaned as he took in every sensation of your body. The arching of your back. The unintelligible pleas. That final desperate pull of his hair made by your fingers. And just as that wave crest for you, he retreated. 

"On your back. No more fucking teasing." The veiled promise behind his words made you acquiesce as you were taken painfully against him. Although you were drenched and stretched, he was brutal. It was a swift adjustment, however, as he strengthened this by his grip made to the back of your neck and hair. 

"Look how fucking good it is...You're swallowing me whole...I'm so deep I could get you so pregnant-" 

"Rafe..."

"Don't worry. Not this time." He brushed his thumb over your clit with only a few swipes and you were prepared to unleash yourself to him. His name almost sacrilegious to the vows shattered to his every thrust. Yet either of you cared for anything but how he felt. 

Your hands were pinned above your head as your wedding ring chimed on the counter. It was just loud enough to break your focus from the passioned hips rooting into you as you felt him take your left hand to his mouth. With his teeth, he removed the silver band and diamond before throwing it to the floor. 

"When you're with me. You're with me. You think of me. You feel me. Otherwise you don't get to come.".

"You."

"Me." He validated as he bowed into you, the perspiration making his hair stick to his forehead was the same responsible for the cotton suctioned to his damp chest as you pulled him closer. 

"Please let me come, Rafe..."

"I'm done teasing. I'm making you mine. Right fucking now. Gonna be hard to claim otherwise when you're not gonna be able to sit or walk without feeling me..." He kissed you, a deeply passionate kiss that kept you from responding with anything but a moan. 

Ribbons of his release filled you in sporadic spurts as your tremors pulled him into the fringes of overstimulation. Only a moment or so until he has stilled your hips that still called for more. Even as you felt him still, deep and true, you wanted it again. An addict in need of another fix. 

You were lifted into a sitting position as he hovered over your legs for a moment. Your hands came to his cheeks as you brought him into you by the separation of his shirt. 

"We have to make an appearance at that dinner-"

"Or..." You teased his neck and ear. 

"You can tell me all the ways you've thought about me while you got yourself off...and I can make each one come true until New Year's..."

"And then after?"

"Then I tell you all the ways I have..." 

"I fucking love Christmas..."

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @belcalis9503

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[jpgmaya]

・ʚ ‧₊˚ 𝐈𝐭'𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐎𝐮𝐭

 “𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘆𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗱𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿𝘀. 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗹𝗲, 𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿.”

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀): Rafe Cameron x Housewife!Reader

𝗪/𝗖: 1.9k

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Rumors of your husband's extramarital affairs sent you seeking the comfort of Rafe Cameron. Things don't end the way they should.

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 18+ MINORS DNI — infidelity, DARK!Rafe, toxic relationships, size difference, older woman/younger man (rafe is 19, reader is in her 30s), jealousy, possessiveness, marital issues, drinking, mentioned drug abuse and divorce, DUB-CON SMUT (p in v, ROUGH FILTY sex, stealthing, degradation, fish hooking, dacryphilia, squirting, creampie) YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION.

𝗔/𝗡: a self indulgent mess as my first published fic here, yay! not beta'd, all mistakes are my own. loosely inspired by 'lemonade' by nicole dollanganger which you can listen to below. if you enjoy, remember to like & reblog, it means the world to me :)

"Did you hear me, honey?"

Your eyes shift from the half-empty glass of mimosa at the sound of your husband, Jonathan's voice, blinking slowly up at him when he emerges through your kitchen threshold.

You can barely stand the sight of him these days, let alone his voice. But you force a smile and shake your head, reaching for the glass and taking a sip.

"I said I'll be late at the office tonight, don't wait up." His tie is lopsided and hastily knotted, something you focus on instead of his brown eyes. You hum in response, almost out of habit at this point. It's the fourth time this week he's told you not to wait up, the fourth time he's lied.

At first, you didn't want to believe the rumors, passing them off with a chuckle in the supermarket and an Oh, really? at the country club. No one would say it to your face, but you knew how they all thought of you, the things they would say behind your back.

Poor thing. She must be so desperate. Trouble in trophy-wife paradise.

What burned you up the most was that they were right.

It started with late nights at the office, coming home past two in the morning, and jumping into the shower immediately. Then you found the lipstick stains on his shirt while doing laundry, and every little thing over the last couple of months had started to make sense. Phone calls that he would step into the next room to take, his lack of attention, his snappiness, smelling distinctly like patchouli, and bergamot and all the notes you hate—

"That kid's coming by today who offered to clean the pool. The Cameron kid, don't forget to let him in."

Jonathan's hands circle your waist, pulling you closer against his chest. Aftershave hits you like a truck, burning your nostrils when he leans down to press a kiss to your cheek.

"I won't," You managed to squeak out, turning around to face him as he reaches for his tumbler and a piece of toast from the toaster.

If he weren't so busy cheating, he'd realize how ridiculous that statement was. Rafe Cameron coming by to clean a pool.

What the hell would a Cameron know about cleaning a pool?

People say you can't choose who you love, and in a lot of ways, you guess that's true.

You certainly wouldn't choose to continue loving your adulterous husband. However, here you are, still aching deep down for something you can't receive.

Rafe was an accident, a result of day drinking and bitterness that manifested itself into inappropriate flirtatious advances. He was young and brash, the complete opposite of Jonathan.

"A mojito; I wouldn't have taken you for the type." Rafe leans his forearm against the bar, blonde hair curling past his eyes.

You furrow your brows, "type? I—"

"The type to sit around at the bar, alone, drinking a mojito."

"And what would you know about mojitos, Rafe? I thought you still had a few years left?" You'd responded, and he shook his head, pink tongue darting out to run across his bottom lip.

"Two, but we both know I don't exactly follow the rules around here."

You were angry, a scorned housewife with too much time on her hands, and you wanted to get back at him. Rafe was cute, and accessible, willing. He'd wanted you just as much as you wanted him, and perhaps now he wants you even more.

Bathroom hookups at the country club turned into late night beach rendezvous until, apparently, he was coming over to the house you shared with your husband.

You never wanted your relationship with Rafe to progress this far, get this risky, but it seemed like every time you'd try to break things off, he was at your doorstep the next day with dilated pupils and tears. If it wasn't problems at home, then it was his own demons, the drug addiction that you hadn't even attempted to address.

Only Rafe can heal Rafe, and it was important that he realize that, no matter how co-dependent the relationship has gotten.

Today is the day you'll break things off with Rafe for the sake of both of your lives.

Uneasiness swirls in your gut, picking at the skin around your nails as you watch Rafe move about your kitchen. He opens cabinets, drawers, and even the fridge as if he owns the place.

He's too comfortable here. You've let him into your life, and now you have to deal with him.

"Rafe," You interrupt him, maneuvering around the kitchen island until you're standing at his side. "What are you looking for?"

You reach out, brushing your manicured fingers against his shoulder, which he recoils from. A frown paints your face, and he must realize, because he's mumbling out an apology over the next few seconds.

"I- I thought I left something the last time I came, you know? Maybe I dropped it or something." Rafe sniffs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"No, Rafe, you didn't leave anything here." You try to tell him, but it's clear that he's not really listening to you. His eyes bounce all over the room, taking in all the details and then taking in you.

You're still dressed in your silk robe, bare underneath except for a pair of floral lace panties. You nervously cleaned earlier instead of changing out of your pajamas, a decision that you're seriously beginning to regret.

"Listen, we need to talk. I've been meaning to sit down with you for a while now," You pull the lapels of your robe closer together, hiding your skin from his heated gaze. Rafe looks down at you, a tick in his jaw that won't go away. "I think we should end this. Today. I wanna work things out with Jonathan."

Rafe tuts, the muscles in his shoulder contracting as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

"You wanna work things out with Jonathan?" He parrots. Disdain drips from his voice, taking a few steps closer until he's right up against you. "What about us, huh? You forgot about that?"

His fingers tap against your forehead like he's trying to remind you of something, but you slap his arm away. "Us? Are you high, Rafe?"

You cross your arms over your chest, holding your ground against the 6'2 tower of muscle despite being significantly smaller than him.

"There was never an us, okay? I was lonely, and you were— there. I know that sucks to hear but, I'm married, and I love my husband."

Perhaps you were being harsh, but it's for the better. That's what you keep telling yourself.

"Don't do that, don't lie to me. Don't lie to yourself!" Rafe raises his voice at you, hands coming up to hold your arms tightly in his grasp. Like he doesn't want to let go.

"Rafe—" He can't be reasoned with, you think. He's emotional and erratic like all nineteen year olds are. And you've fucked up so bad by doing this with him . . . to him.

His kisses are fiery when they rain down on you, working his mouth in tandem against your own and biting down on your lips until you gasp, giving him a channel to slide his tongue into. Rafe holds you close when you feel your knees go weak, swallowing every moan and grunt with ease.

Almost in an instant, you're pressed up against the counter, hips jutting against the marble as the silk fabric of your robe is bunched up around your waist. A hand comes down on your asscheek, making you hiss at the contact. His pinky ring leaving behind a prolonged sting.

"You wouldn't leave me, not when I fuck you so much better than that limp dick asshole." Rafe's finger latches onto the gusset of your underwear, pulling the sodden fabric aside and exposing your cunt to the cool air of the room. Your knees squeeze together, feeling a gush of slick pour out of you just from the raunchiness of his words.

"That's why you're getting a divorce, right?" He stands tall behind you; the sound of his jeans unbuckling makes a ringing sound in your ears. Your face is pressed sideways against the counter, blood rushing to your head.

You can't think.

"Rafe—" Your voice sounds foreign even to yourself, reaching behind to press your hand against his pelvis. He smirks when he looks down at you, pumping his erection in one hand while the other is squeezes your ass. "C-condom, please."

Rafe must be expecting it, dropping his cock with a sigh before grabbing your wrist and throwing it off of him. You hear the rumple of a foil package a few moments later and silently thank god.

The medley of both your moans on the initial push inside is a work of art, a raw display of pure affection that you could never get out of your husband. Rafe's nails dig into the meat of your hips, pulling you back while he thrusts forward. There's no shortage of sloppy, wet sounds coming from your pussy, dripping slick around his cock as it breaches you.

"C'mon, no zoning out on me." His voice permeates your headspace for only a few seconds, drifting in and out of reality as the throes of your passion overtake you. Your legs shake, pussy creaming around his length as he relentlessly pounds into you.

Before you know it, your face is lifted off the cool surface of the counter. Rafe's digits hook inside your mouth on either side, opening you wide as you sob from the amount of pure electric coursing through your veins. Tears stream down your face, soaking your cheeks and neck as the wretched sounds from your throat are projected for the whole house to hear.

Luckily, it's just the two of you.

"You're getting a divorce, right? Say it." His bulbous head jams against your sweet spot with every thrust, balls slapping your clit as added stimulation. It's too much and still somehow not enough.

"Say it!" Rafe repeats, almost like he's begging you to. You can't hold it in anymore.

"Yes! God, Rafe, yes." You scream out as you jerk forward, finally moving off his cock as you squirt. Rafe is there to hold you up, placing you flat against the counter while he blankets your backside.

You feel him start searching for your hole again, breathing deeply into your neck as the tip of his cock pokes around before eventually finding its goal.

"Can't take it anymore, baby." You groan, but you're suddenly feeling too tired to try and fight him off. The weight on your back is almost enough to put you to sleep, feeling your eyes get heavy with each passing second.

"Shhh. . . yea you can. You'll take it for me; take all of me." Rafe mumbles breathlessly, pushing some hair back from your face. He kisses your forehead, the apples of your cheeks, your chin.

His hips falter after a few more thrusts, moaning in your ear when he finally cums.

A mixture of seed and your own arousal drip out of your used cunt, falling to the floor beneath you.

Rafe grins, still cradling your tired form.

"It'll all work out, I promise. We'll be together."

©jpgmaya

taglist — none yet!

[radiantroope]

Passed Around || JJ Maybank

pairing: jj x reader

mentions: john b, pope, kiara

requested: no

summary: everyone in the outer banks has their opinions of you. a touron with a smart mouth learns just how quick jj will come to your defense.

warnings: underage consumption of drugs/alcohol, swearing, violence, blood

author’s note: i just started writing randomly and this was the product, enjoy.

masterlist | add yourself to my tag list

* i do not own this gif! if it’s yours, please let me know so i can properly credit you! *

Of course, there was another party at The Boneyard. No surprise there. Summer or Winter, there was always a party. The amount of people that filled the beach always somehow managed to surprise you, especially when it was off season for the tourists. Sometimes you’d still get a couple; people visiting family who lived on the island for Thanksgiving or Christmas.

It was the beginning of December and you’d just arrived at the beach, already hearing thumping music and loud laughter. The brisk ocean air was much colder than you preferred as it came off the ocean. You were yearning for those hot Summer nights again.

You pulled the jacket you were wearing tighter around yourself and continued on your way down to your friends. Just as you hopped over one of the dead and forgotten trees, you heard a shout of your name. You looked to the kegs and smiled when you saw Kiara waving her arm.

As you approached her, you raised an eyebrow at the three kegs set up. Three, how did they manage to score three? You didn’t ask, sometimes you were just better off not knowing. You gratefully took the plastic cup John B passed you and quickly drank some of the bitter liquid.

“Rough day?” the curly haired boy raised an eyebrow at you.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes but ranted anyway, “My grandma is still here. She was supposed to leave after Thanksgiving and now my parents tell me she’s staying all the way through Christmas! If I have to listen to her talk about what college I should go to or about boys any longer, I’m gonna go insane!”

“Does- she doesn’t know about JJ?” Kiara asked with her brows furrowed.

“Oh, she does, but she’s in some alternate reality where she thinks I’ll marry a Kook and be a trophy wife,” you retorted with a sarcastic smile on your face, “My mom’s told her a hundred times that JJ and I are together and nothing will change that.”

You looked over your shoulder at the said blonde who was sitting in a circle with some other teenagers. You saw smoke pillowing through the air and were hit with the faint smell of weed. JJ’s cerulean eyes caught yours and he smiled, waving for you to join him.

“Go, we’ll catch up about your crazy grandma later,” Kiara said, smiling at you.

You smiled back at the girl and turned to walk towards your boyfriend, calling over your shoulder, “Love you, Kie!”

You and JJ had gotten together about nine months ago. Years of longing looks and lingering touches were driving your friends insane. How could two people be so oblivious? Everyone knew your hearts were set on each other, but the two of you were always too stubborn to admit it. Plus, you didn’t want to be the one to break the no macking rule.

One day at the Chateau it boiled over when one of your hookups over stayed his welcome. JJ woke up for the third morning in a row to find the guy helping himself to his stash. He lost it. He wailed on the poor boy and literally kicked him out the door. This resulted in you insisting you liked him and the blonde calling bullshit.

“How do you know how I feel, JJ? You don’t!” you’d screamed, stomping your foot like an angry toddler who’d just been told no as you tried to get your point across.

“Yes I do! Pope told me you’re in love with me!”

Yeah, Pope spilled the beans after you made the drunken confession one night. You swore him to secrecy, but that boy couldn’t keep secrets to save his life most of the time. You still to this day would never let him live that down. But how could you stay mad at him when it resulted in the best possible outcome? JJ was yours, and you were his, finally.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” you flirted as you walked over to the blonde boy.

JJ smiled and laughed, shaking his head at you, “You’re rediculous.”

“But you love me,” you stated as you plopped yourself on his lap, sitting most of your weight on his thigh. His arm wrapped around your waist tightly and he pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“Damn right I do.”

You watched as a blunt was passed around the group and listened in on the conversation, chimming in now and again. You took a few puffs yourself when JJ held it up to your lips. You weren’t a big smoker though. Half of the time it made you more anxious than it calmed your down.

JJ had gone to get you both refills on your beers but got distracted talking to Pope and John B. You took his seat and turned to watch him, smiling when he laughed and his eyes crinkled at the corners. His bright white teeth sparkled in the glow of a fire that was going. You watched as the breeze blew his cut off tank and you caught his muscles tense at the cold hair.

“So you and Maybank, huh?” a voice caught your attention and you whipped around.

A Touron, Dominic, who frequented the island this time of year sat in front of you. He had shaggy dark brown hair that was straight and fell around his face, barely touching his jaw. His eyes were a beautiful mossy shade of green. You probably would have hooked up with him in the past is he wasn’t known to be such an ass. He ran around with Rafe and his goons during the day and spent his nights on The Cut causing trouble. He was nicknamed “girlfriend stealer” after many-a-hookups that resulted in ended relationships.

“Yeah,” you responded blandly. There was no way in hell you were going to entertain this kid. He took pride in stealing people’s girls; you would not be one of them.

“You could do better,” Dominic remarked, an infuriating smirk growing on his face. You resisted the urge to slap it right off.

“Like you?” you scoffed, eyebrow raised. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t act like you don’t want to. I remember the way you used to look at me.”

You clenched your jaw and pressed your lips into a line. You stared at him with a blank expression, the smirk on his face growing. He opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off.

“Everything okay over here?” JJ asked from behind you.

He’d seen the way Dominic was looking at you. He knew the game the little shit was playing, and it was a dangerous one. The group of teenagers in the circle you were sitting in looked between the three of you nervously. They all knew better than to push JJ, especially when it came to you. He was quick to fight - even quicker when it was over you.

“Yeah man! Just telling Y/N here she used to be a lot more fun before she got a boyfriend,” Dominic replied casually, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

You stood up and turned to face JJ, seeing that he’d handed your drink refills off to John B and Pope who stood behind him. He’d been anticipating this the moment he saw you two talking. You put your hands on the blonde’s chest and stared up at him.

“Let’s just go, J. It’s not a big deal.”

“Nah, I want to hear what he has to say,” JJ pushed your hands off his chest, eyes never leaving the brunette who was now standing.

Dominic snickered and pushed his hair back off his forehead, saying, “I heard she got passed around quite a bit. Rafe sure had a lot to say about her. Was hoping I could find out for myself.”

Low blow, asshole, you thought to yourself, feeling your stomach sink at the mention of the oldest Cameron sibling. You’d messed around with him long before you and JJ got together, Topper too. It put a rift between you and the Pogues for a while. They didn’t care who you slept with, as long as they weren’t Kooks, but you did what you wanted. JJ was the most upset. You were sleeping with the enemy.

JJ went to walk around you, ready to pummel Dominic into the sand. You grabbed the front of JJ’s shirt and pushed him back with all of your strength. You hated when he got in fights. You couldn’t watch. Most of the time he won, but when he didn’t, you had to clean him up. You tried to keep him out of them the best you could.

“Don’t, JJ, please,” you begged, pushing against his abs, “It’s not worth it.”

JJ’s eyes flickered down to yours, his cold gaze softening a bit when he looked at your pleading face.

“Wow, they weren’t kidding. You really are her bitch,” Dominic said through a laugh when he realized you were convincing JJ not to fight him.

“Shut the fuck up!” you yelled over your shoulder, pushing your boyfriend back once again.

It was useless, JJ managed to get past you, your hands grabbing onto his arms and shirt - whatever you could get ahold of to keep him back. John B grabbed your arm the second the blonde’s fist hit Dominic’s face. You looked back at your curly haired friend and he simply shook his head. Not even Pope moved, they were going to let the guy get his assbeat for talking about you like that. No one talked about you like that.

“Don’t ever talk about her like that again!” JJ yelled, arms swinging, “I’ll kill you, you hear me?! I’ll fucking kill you!”

You tried to shout your boyfriend’s name over the cheering from people watching the fight. He couldn’t hear you, still standing over Dominic who’d been knocked down. He landed blow after blow against the Touron’s face.

“Alright, JJ!” John B yelled, stepping forward.

“He’s had enough, man!” Pope added.

You breathed in deeply through your nose and closed your eyes for a second. As you opened your eyes, you screamed JJ’s name as loud as you could. It was so loud, everyone went quiet and their eyes turned to you.

The blonde froze, fist still pulled back mid swing. His anger fueled frenzy was over and he was brought back to Earth by your voice. He dropped Dominic, who was groaning in pain, into the sand by his shirt. His arm fell to his side and he turned to face you. He had blood trickling down from his nose but other than that, he seemed to be perfectly unharmed.

“Are you done?” you questioned, arms crossing over your chest with a raised brow.

JJ simply nodded in response and walked away from the boy he’d just seriously beaten. He approached you with slumped shoulders and sheepish expression, knowing you were going to scold him for getting in yet another fight. But how could he just stand there and let someone degrade you like that?

“Sorry,” he muttered softly and reached for you, slipping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you back towards the kegs. Kiara stood there, shaking her head as she had watched the altercation from afar.

“If he presses charges, you’re thouroughly fucked, you know that?” you asked him seriously. Though you brought your hand up and intertwined your fingers with his that was hanging off your shoulder.

The blonde boy nodded and took a cup of beer from Kie with his free hand. He downed it all in one go, grunting as he pulled the cup away from his lips. He gave it back for her to refill.

“I know you’re trying to defend me, J, but sometimes I wish you could just walk away,” you sighed and leaned into him, feeling a kiss against the top of your head.

“I’ll try to be better, promise,” he mumbled into your hair and when he pulled his head back you heard him laugh softly. He wiped his hand against your hair and when you looked up at him, he gave you an innocent smile. You saw the trail of blood leaving his nose was smeared and narrowed your eyes.

“You got blood in my hair, didn’t you?”

“Yup.”

[matthewtkachuk]

feel something pt 1 - jj

On the outside, you’re a kook princess with a seemingly perfect life and a perfect family. The expectations are suffocating you, to the point where the only thing you feel is numb. You’re chasing different coping mechanisms in order to feel something. Until a chance encounter with a certain blond pogue you know you’re supposed to hate gives rise to a different kind of feeling.

Warnings: angst, toxic behaviour, poor coping mechanisms, drug usage, mentions of sex, mentions of suicidal ideations (brief), Rafe being a grade a asshole, shitty parents

Pairings: JJ x reader (eventually), Rafe x reader (slight), Topper x reader (slight)

Words: 3.1k

A/N: I accidentally deleted this, ugh sorry if you see this again!! I started off wanting to write a supremely angsty one shot, turned into a supremely angsty multi-chapter fic. This is a slow burn, babyy. Here’s the set up, let me know what you think! :)

series masterlist

You stand teetering on the edge of the balcony railing, barefoot and facing the waves as they crash onto the beach. You’re not thinking about jumping. At least you’re pretty sure you won’t actually jump. Really you’re just looking for even a flicker of an emotion to stir up in your chest. Lately you haven’t felt anything more than mild annoyance at your parent’s constant bickering and pestering. You know you’re too young, but all you feel anymore is numb. You lift your left leg, balancing precariously on the right for a minute before lowering it and returning to the balcony and slipping your heels back on.

You don’t want to die, you just don’t want to live like this. Kook princess, paraded and practically pimped around by your parents, looking for you to find an advantageous marriage, have 2.5 kids and further accumulate your hoarded wealth. “Why don’t you date the Cameron boy? He’s quite good looking and your father would love it if you married his business partner’s son” and “The Thornton boy would be a good match, the family mansion is the largest” and “Jacob Kane’s father is a name partner at a successful law firm on the mainland”. Your mother’s incessant nagging about finding the perfect husband only further cements your lack of value as a human being, your usefulness tapped out at your ability to be someone’s wife.

You don’t understand the wealth accumulation thing, your trust fund probably equals the national budget of a small country already, and there’s no way anyone could blow through the entire family fortune in a single generation. At this point, it just feels like generating wealth for the sake of generating it. What good is money if it just sits in a bank account or investment portfolio, earning passive income and not being used for anything.

You recognize you’re very privileged, you’ve never once had to worry about where your next meal would come from, you have a closet full of designer handbags and red bottom shoes the value of which could feed several families on the Cut. But what’s the cost? You feel suffocated by the pressure bestowed upon you by your parents. You’re the eldest sibling, primary heiress to the Y/L/N family fortune and expected future successor of the family business. Truthfully, you couldn’t give less of a fuck about retail development or whatever it is that keeps your father so busy that he missed every single one of your piano and ballet recitals growing up. You like the idea of studying Shakespeare’s sonnets and soliloquies over learning about mergers and acquisitions and tax avoidance laws at college, but you know your father would sooner cut you off than let you pursue your own passions.

Sometimes you let yourself fantasize about leaving it all behind, running off to some college like Columbia, moving to New York and living in the city that never sleeps. With your 4.0 GPA and stellar extracurricular activities, you could probably get a pretty good scholarship. Or maybe Paris, where you would sit in a cute little café flirting with French boys and writing poetry by the Seine River. But it would be hard, and you’re too much of a coward to see if you could make it on your own without daddy’s money. Not to mention the little voice in the back of your head that sounds suspiciously like your mothers telling you that you’ll never amount to anything without their help.

Later, you’re wandering the party, both hands curled tightly around the cup you hold to your lips, eyes staring out at the crowd over the rim. Unfortunately, you catch Rafe Cameron’s eye as he’s sat around the coffee table with a freshly cut white line ready on the surface. He’s surrounded by the idiots he calls friends and more than one pretty little rich girl making eyes at him. The left corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk as he realizes you’ve sized up the company around him.

“Hey Y/L/N, want a line? First one’s on me, babe.” He calls out at you, but you just roll your eyes and keep moving forward. As desperate as you are to feel something, you’re not sure you can cross that line just yet. Partaking in the occasional joint or bong rip is one thing, but hard drugs is another. You don’t think trading in the empty feeling in your chest for an addiction is worth it. Seeing the blown out pupils of some of your peers, and the way they not-so-discreetly sniff and wipe at their noses you realize you’re likely alone in that assessment. “Your loss!” he calls out at your retreating form, and you don’t even bother to look over your shoulder. You know he’s not really interested in you beyond making you a customer and maybe a quick fuck.

You snort to yourself, wondering what your mother would think about the boy she wanted you to pursue offering you a line of coke at a party. Knowing her, she would focus on the fact that you had gained his attention and ignore the illicit substance.

Making your way through the cluster of bodies is harder than you had initially thought, everyone was on everyone. Every kook party ends up this way, a certain subset of the group coked out and the rest so drunk they can’t function, and you begin to wonder why you even bothered coming.

You’re not totally sure what you’re looking for, your best friend and Rafe’s younger sister Sarah doesn’t really associate with this crowd anymore ever since she started spending all her time with the less fortunate side of the island. Rafe had called it ‘slumming with those dirty fucking pogues’ the last time Sarah had partied with you. Maybe it isn’t right to call her your best friend anymore because not only does she not associate with this crowd, she doesn’t really associate with you either.

You know she’s hanging with Kie again, there are a lot of watchful eyes on the island and even more flapping lips. It’s kind of ironic, Sarah was the one who convinced you to drop Kie, and you had let her. Now the two of them were spending all their time together on some dilapidated boat named after the inhabitants of the Cut and you were alone at some lame party with a heavy weight on your chest and under your eyes.

Sighing deeply, you down the rest of the contents of your cup and grab a refill before turning your attention back to the crowd of people in the middle of the living room. As your brain starts to fog further with the familiar feeling four vodka crans give you, you let Topper put his hands on your hips and pull your bodies close together, your back to his front. A voice in the back of your mind wonders if you’re supposed to feel guilt over Sarah’s ex’s hands all over your body, but you don’t feel anything and Sarah clearly doesn’t give a fuck about you either.

The next morning you wake up with Topper’s hands around your bare waist. There’s a pain radiating against your skull and you have cotton mouth, but you quietly gather your clothes and sneak out of the room before the sleeping blonde can wake up and give you that regretful look he gets in his eyes every time you hook up. You know he still loves Sarah, in his own fucked up way and though you don’t regret where you woke up, you know you’ll just be annoyed if you have to deal with his issues this early in the morning with this bad of a hangover.

You’ve almost successfully left the large mansion, quietly walking through the living room to the front door when a voice remarks dryly, “Really, y/n? I thought you were better than my sister’s leftovers.”

Inhaling through your nose and out your mouth sharply, you spin on your heel to face Rafe with a blank expression on your face. He sits at the kitchen island, bare-chested with his hat on backwards, casually eating a bowl of cereal. The thought of why exactly Rafe is sitting half naked in Topper’s kitchen, eating Topper’s cereal briefly flashes through your mind but you decide you don’t care. “What do you care Rafe?” you ask, only half interested in his response. There’s a moment of silence, and you pick at your fingernails rather than meet his gaze.

“I’m just saying, I thought you were better than that,” he shrugs, bringing another spoonful to his mouth.

You roll your eyes, already tired of the conversation, “And who, pray tell, is better for me?”

“Me of course,” he smirks at you, and you huff out an annoyed laugh and raise an eyebrow silently asking him to explain. “Come on princess, I know your parents want you to marry up. ‘m your best option on this island”.

Mildly annoyed, you roll your eyes and turn back towards the front door, eager to leave this conversation behind. “C’mon baby, we both know how this thing ends, with you on my arm as the perfect trophy wife.”

There was a time those words might have brought butterflies in your stomach. Growing up best friends with Sarah meant you also grew up with Rafe, and you used to have the biggest crush on him. Forbidden by Sarah after a late night game of truth or dare, you didn’t use to mind when your mother would spout off about Rafe being the perfect boy for you. He used to look out for you like he did for Sarah. But that was a long time ago, and he no longer cared about either of you anymore and you had to admit you couldn’t remember why you had ever thought him anything but repulsive. That was before the drugs and the untethered rage that always rests just under the surface of his skin, ready to be unleashed at the smallest slight. You might have married the little boy with the gap toothed smile who once punched Jacob Kane when you were in the second grade and he wouldn’t stop bothering you, but this Rafe wasn’t good for anything beyond a quick meeting in the dark.

If you had been able to feel anything, you might have snapped back at him, but you had no energy and honestly all you wanted was to shower in your own shower and collapse in your own bed, so you ignored his comment and slipped out the door.

It was a quick walk back to your house, and you snuck in quietly through the front door hoping no one was home and your dreams of slumbering until the early afternoon could be realized. Unfortunately, your mother sat on the cream colored chaise in the sitting room, clearly anticipating your arrival. Her eyes quickly scanned your appearance, your manolos held by the straps in your right hand, your sex hair and décolletage you were sure was covered in bites and bruises caused by overeager lips, before sighing.

“Y/n, darling, you have to stop this silly behaviour and settle down. Boys aren’t going to want to lock you down if they’ve already had you.” She criticizes, effectively slut-shaming you. You roll your eyes at that, briefly wondering if the old wives tale was true and you’d end up with your eyes stuck like that. You decide you don’t mind, it would save you some time as your base reaction to most interactions is to roll them.

“I had a rough night mom, I’d like to go back to bed,” you tell her as you try to slip past her. A cold hand circles your wrist, stiletto tipped manicure digging slightly into the skin stopping you from moving any further.

“I’m serious, y/n, you’re better than this.” She throws the same words Rafe had at you. Exasperated and exhausted you rip your wrist from her grasp and head to the stairs. “We’re not done talking about this!” she shouts but you ignore her and continue towards your nice shower and bed.

Rolling over to an empty bed several hours later, you grumble as you try to identify the source of your wakeup call. Cursing as you smack your arm against your side table, you finally manage to grab your ringing cell phone. Seeing RC flash as the contact calling, you groan loudly, before hitting the decline button and rolling back over. A minute later your phone chimes again, indicating a voice mail.

You figure there’s no point in drawing out the inevitable, so you unlock the phone and listen the voicemail Rafe left. He’s invited you to hang out with him and his friends on his dad’s yacht. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you’ve sent him a text to say you’d be there in an hour. Despite there being no love lost between you and Rafe, you really don’t have any better options and maybe if you tell your mom who you’re hanging out with she’ll get off your back and not subject you to The Lecture. You and Sarah used to laugh and joke about The Lecture, about how being a Y/L/N means being perfect and obtaining a perfect husband. The two of you would mock your mother, exaggerating her southern drawl that slipped out as she lectured you on the importance of propriety and ‘leaving something to the imagination’.

As you slip on a navy sundress with a deep neckline, you laugh, thinking to yourself that there’s not much left to leave to the imagination. You take the time to curl the ends of your hair to create a bouncy wave and apply a few coats of waterproof mascara and lip gloss. The humid heat of the OBX keeps your makeup routine light in the summer.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Shit. Your dad’s home, he knows you stayed out all night, and he’s pissed. You don’t think your mom told him the full story, because he’s not frothing at the mouth mad, just his typical disappointed mad.

“Rafe invited a couple of friends to hang out on his dad’s yacht, daddy,” you reply back, not meeting his eyes.

You can tell your dad disapproves, because the lines between his eyebrows are more pronounced with his narrowed eyes. As he starts to give you what you’re sure is an impassioned lecture, your mother pops up out of nowhere, gushing, “Rafe? Well of course you can go sweetie, isn’t that right hon?” she turns to your dad, a single eyebrow raised daring him to defy her. Your parents are the ultimate power couple, wielding power and guilt over each other almost as easily as they try to do to you.

He sighs, realizing the fight with his vengeful wife isn’t worth the lesson you’re not going to learn anyway and nods, “Alright, just be back for supper, we’re going to sit down as a family tonight. And tell Sarah we said hi.”

If either parent noticed your stiffened back, they don’t comment on it. You hadn’t told them that Sarah dumped you like yesterday’s news just yet. Why blow a perfect cover story? Again, the lack of guilt should probably concern you, but you’re more focused on the very expensive, very good quality wine that you know is waiting for you on the Cameron’s yacht.

An hour later, you’re sitting between a very uncomfortable Topper and a disinterested Kelce with a full wineglass in your left hand. Your right hand slides your sunglasses back onto your eyes to shield them from the harsh sunlight that beats down directly on your face.

You can’t find the energy to strike up a conversation with either of them, and they don’t seem very inclined to start one either, so you turn your head to the side and look out at the water until you see a familiar beat up boat approaching. You visibly tense as your eyes lock on your blonde former best friend laughing with her arm around John B as their stupid friends talk and laugh around them. “You okay, y/n?” Kelce finally speaks, noticing your change in posture.

“Never better,” you drily reply moving to turn your head back to the other side of the yacht, as if the other boat on the water didn’t exist at all. Your eyes briefly flicker to the other blond on the boat, taut muscles on display beyond the ratty cut-off tank top as the pogue known as JJ attempts to wrestle with his friend Pope. You feel a drop in your stomach that perplexes you as your eyes scan his sunkissed skin. Startled, you turn your head quickly and take a huge sip of your wine.

You anticipated some sort of confrontation, maybe a thrown insult, but their boat simply eclipsed the yacht and they continued on their way. You were annoyed by the concerned look that Kelce threw your way after they had left, so you downed your glass and grabbed Rafe’s hand and all but dragged him inside the cabin.

The second the door shuts behind you, you’re on him, mouths mashing in a hungry kiss. He smirks against your mouth and leads you into the bathroom and proceeds to rid you of your clothes.

As you’re letting Rafe Cameron fuck you in the bathroom of his yacht, your mind can’t help but think you’re fucking over Sarah, too.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” he praises in your ear as he thrusts into you from behind. You don’t even have the energy to fake a moan, you just lean your head back against his shoulder.

When he’s finished, you simply slip your dress back on, refill your glass and sit back between Topper and Kelce as if they didn’t just hear you hook up with their best friend.

You go to bed early that night after a “nice family dinner” that consists of back-handed compliments and your mother fishing for details about your time on the yacht. You don’t think she’d be too pleased about letting Rafe ‘have you’ before ‘locking you down’, so you keep it to a minimum. Both parents drill it into your head that as a Y/L/N, you’re held to a higher standard than your peers. Perfect grades, perfect life, perfect daughter. You don’t know how to tell them you don’t even feel human anymore, so you smile and nod as they pester and nag. Your little sister sits quietly the whole time, looking at you with an emotion you can’t quite decipher.

[rafesgoldrings]

Okay but a new employee at rafe’s company starts flirting with trophy wife reader (not knowing she’s married to rafe) and rafe finds out and ends up fucking her on his desk to show her who she belongs to (extra points if the guy walks in on them)

Rafe would be furious, he trusted you more than anything but not the new guy. He didn’t trust him one bit, especially not with all the rumors he’s heard about him making moves on you every single day. He knew he needed to do something to get the guy to fuck off, that’s why he called you into the dudes office and shut the door. He’d close the blinds before grabbing your hips and bending you over the desk. The black lacy thong Rafe had gotten you for your birthday was drenched, he’d get on his knees and place soft kisses up your thighs until he reached the soaked fabric. Slowly, he’d take them off and shove them in his back pocket so that they were just barely peaking out and attach his mouth to your dripping hole. He savored your cunt like it was his last meal, he fucking loved eating you out. The way your thighs would tremble, clench around his head and hold him in place when you came, it was euphoric. A high that no drug would ever bring him. He’d keep going even after you came, not stopping until you were pushing him away. But he wasn’t done, oh no. He was just getting started. He’d pull his pants down, his boxers following shortly after, and pull his cock out. The tip was swollen, leaking with precum, perfectly sculpted to hit that spot inside you every single time. He’d slide it up and down your folds, teasing you, wanting to hear you beg for it like the cock hungry whore you were at home. “Please Rafe” you’d whine, wanting him to fill you up so full like he always did. “Please, please, please what? Huh, what do you want from me, say it slut” his mocking and degrading words only causing more of your arousal to leak out. “Please fuck my cunt Rafe, make me yours” that was enough for him, he’d slide his cock inside you, groaning at how tight you still were and how good you squeezed around him. You’d grip the desk, freshly painted nails scratching it from how good you felt, cheek smushed against the cold surface. One hand would be in your hair to, the other would hold your wrists behind your back as your hips collided against the desk hard enough to bruise with each thrust. You’d try to keep quiet, not wanting anyone to hear, but Rafe demanded for you to be as loud as you could. He wanted to hear the pretty sounds you made (and for the new guy to hear so he’d come walking in) and so you did, loud moans of his name, begging him to go deeper, the whimpers and whines you’d let out when he hit a certain spot deep inside you. It was all getting to be too much, the tension in your stomach growing and Rafe’s thrusting becoming more and more sloppy. But then the door opened, you don’t know who walked in since your cheek was against the desk and you were facing the wall, but Rafe could see. And the smug fucker looked the new guy dead in the eyes as you came around his cock, your arousal gushing around him and all over the guys chair and floor, the guy quickly left. His eyes wide and face flushed from embarrassment, he got the message loud and clear. You belong to Rafe Cameron and Rafe Cameron only. Rafe would pull out once he emptied his load inside of you, a white ring of your cum around his cock as he watched it leak out of you and onto your inner thighs. You would pull your skirt down and straighten your hair before looking for your underwear and a tissue. “No. You walk out of here with my cum inside your needy bare cunt, let them all see that you’re mine.” he’d say before slapping your ass and waking out of the office, loving all the wide eyed stares he’d received, some of them staring the the lacy fabric peeking out of his pocket. You followed shortly after, keeping your head down and thighs clenched. Possessive Rafe was your favorite and this was exactly why

[rafesgoldrings]

I need some overstim! I feel like rafe would be the type to say “just one more for me” or like some praise kink for this 🥵

He 100% would, you’d reach your fourth orgasm of the night, clit swollen and sensitive and cunt dripping with cum, when you heard a small buzzing sound. You’d glance down at his hand, eyes wide and chest heaving while telling him you couldn’t do it anymore. He’d brush the hair out of your face and coo gently, “Come on baby, just give me one more and we’ll stop yeah?” and you being eager to please him would agree. Weakly nodding your head and preparing for another orgasm. He’d place the vibrator against your clit and watch as your hips lifted off the bed, back arching as a string of curses stumbled out of your parted swollen lips. He loved seeing you fall apart for him, always thought you looked so sexy that way. It wouldn’t take long for you to reach your fifth orgasm, legs shaking as you squirted around him. His eyes widened in amazement while pulling the toy away from you, watching as your chest rose rapidly, tits fully displayed for him. You’d close your eyes thinking he was done, hearing him stand up and start walking. You assumed he was going to be a warm cloth to clean you up or run you a warm bath like he usually did. But then you felt his strong hands grip your ankles and pull you to the foot of the bed, legs thrown over his shoulders as his tongue attached to your dripping cunt. “Rafe” you whined, trying to squirm away from him “You said one more” he pulled away from you just long enough to say “I know baby, but this pussy is too good. Can’t let any of this go to waste, just let me have one more baby. Please” he looked so pretty begging for a taste, you weren’t going to deny him that. So one nod of your head and he was right back at it, sucking your clit before moving to lap at your dripping hole. Eating you out like his life depended on it, like he was going to die if he didn’t lick every last drop of your arousal clean from your cunt. His large hands holding your hips down, the angle you were at giving him all the advantages he needed to get you to fall apart on his tongue. Your hands would tangle in his hair, holding him in place with a firm grip as you whimpered and squirmed to the best of your ability. Your eyes would roll back, feeling yourself black out when your sixth and final orgasm approached. It felt as if you had no control over what was happening, the only thing you could hear was Rafe faintly saying something along the lines of “that’s my good girl, fucking give it to me”. He’d savor every drop your generous cunt offered him, only stopping once there was nothing left. He’d pull away, watching your body drop to the bed. Your breathing was heavy, still too out of it to be aware of your surroundings, only coming back to a state of semi consciousness when Rafe grabbed you in his arms and placed you in a warm bath. “You did so good for me sweet girl. I fucking love you so much, let’s get you cleaned up and in bed yeah?” a soft kiss placed to your lips. He would push you to your limits, make you cum until you were passing out, but he’d also always take care of you after

[rafesgoldrings]

How about breeding kink for trophy wife x Rafe?? Like he never really thought of it before, but with her, he can see it, and it drives him crazy.

So he doesn’t even necessarily want kids, you don’t either. You’re both just too busy with work and enjoy the life you have together now, but sometimes he just thinks about your belly being swollen, tits huge and sensitive, and it drives him up a wall. You’re on birth control and while you both know it’s not a guarantee you won’t get pregnant, you almost always fuck raw. Tonight though? Tonight was different, Rafe was holding your legs in all sorts of different positions, going at all different angles and making you see stars. It was like he had something to prove to himself, you weren’t complaining though because it was truly some of the best sex you’d had together. Your cervix felt bruised, hips no doubt bruised from the tight grip he’d had most of the time. He kept slamming into you at an unrelenting pace as he neared his orgasm, grunt and groans by your ear as he kissed your neck. His cock hitting the spongey part of your cunt and his thumb rubbing your swollen and puffy clit that was slick with arousal, your whimpers like music in his ears. “Want to fuck a baby into you princess. Want to see you swollen with my seed, tits swollen and sensitive. Fucking want it so bad, beg me for it” your breath hitched in the back of your throat. The only sounds you were able to make came out choked and broken, you didn’t want kids. He didn’t want kids. But fuck it turned you on thinking about what he said and you begged for it “Please fuck a baby into me Rafe. Please please please, need it” your nails digging into his back. You’d feel him empty his seed into you, broken moans coming from him as your high pitched whimpers slipped out. He kept fucking into you, wanting to make sure nothing dripped out and went to waste. “That’s my girl, fucking take my seed baby. Going to look so pretty all round with my baby” he’d whisper before his hips stilled. You both laid there, his cock softening inside you, before he finally pulled out. “Fuck you’re hot” he chucked out, looking over and giving you a lazy grin. You smiled softly and shook your head, giving him a kiss and resting against his chest. If you knew the thought of you being pregnant would get you hot sex, you’d have said something a long time ago

Trophy Wife Taglist: @sweetestdesire @iruzias @congratsloserr @fulla02reads @madelynie @xyzstar @lexi1sblog

[rafesgoldrings]

missing you and trophy wife reader sm rn give us some crumbles 🤭

Hi bby, i’ve missed you sm (and it’s like every time I start missing trophy wife reader, someone sends a request for it😭) there is a scene in this where Rafe preforms a sexual activity on reader while she’s sleeping but he has prior consent to do so, please either skip this scene or do not read this if that makes you uncomfortable! The scene will be in bold

Rafe decides that since it’s finally Summer and the both of you have been working so hard at the company, it’s time for a vacation. He gets everything in order, makes sure things will still function normally when you’re both gone for a month, tells his guy that’s out in charge when he’s absent to call if nothing happens, and then takes you shopping. While you’re picking out new clothes and bikinis in one store, he’s at another picking out some new lingerie and toys for you. His wardrobe was fine, there was no need to get anything new that would just fill up more space, but you always insisted you didn’t have enough clothes and practically dragged him shopping. He wasn’t complaining when he walked out with about 6 bags of new things to use on you, the two of you met up again and you gave him a look.

The kind of look that screams ‘you’re up to no good but i’m not saying anything’, but the two of you finished up your shopping and went home to begin packing. He took you to your vacation home in the Bahamas, settled right on the beach with a gorgeous view. The sounds of the ocean being heard from every location in the house mixed with the salty air and gentle breeze setting the vibe perfectly. You’d unpacked everything and went to get some groceries to hold you over for the next few days until you went and got the rest of what you’d need, it was fairly late by then so you decided to watch a movie. You rested your head in his lap and fell asleep halfway through like always. Of course a sex scene has to play, it’s not even good. Mediocre at best Rafe thinks, but the combo of the sounds from the screen and the feeling of your head moving against his cock every so often has him rock hard.

**He knows you won’t mind if he uses your mouth, you’ve told him before how hot you’d find it to wake up with his cock inside you. He tries to ignore the throbbing he feels, but it gets to be too much and so turns the tv off before he carefully pulls his cock from his sweatpants and begins stroking it. He moves your head just a smidge so that he can part your lips and slide his cock inside, letting out a small groan at the feeling. You let out a small moan and Rafe’s eyes widen thinking you’re awake, he lets out a sigh of relief when your eyes remain closed and you make no indication of being awake. He starts to softly fuck your face, one tangled in your hair as the other goes to pull your tits from the soft cotton tank top you had on. The sight of your nipples hardening and goosebumps covering your body brings him to his orgasm, shooting his load down your throat. This wakes you up and causes you to panic at first, not quite knowing what was going on. “You’re okay baby, just couldn’t wait. Needed this pretty fucking mouth on my cock” Rafe assures you, smiling when you relax and look up at him with tired eyes. You swallow it all and his cock pulls out of your mouth with a ‘pop’.**

You sit up and pull your top off completely before pulling off your panties. He grips your hips and helps pull you into his lap, you reach between your bodies and guide the tip of his cock to your dripping slit and slowly push it inside. He keeps pushing until he bottoms out, staying still to let you adjust first before roughly thrusting up into you. You bounce your hips trying to match his pace, but you’re still too tired so he uses his hands to bounce you up and down. His lips attach to your tits that are bouncing around in his face with each rough thrust he gives you, he marks them and licks at them savoring the way your soft skin feels against his tongue.

You reach down to begin rubbing your clit, the feeling in your stomach growing more and more intense. Rafe knows you’re close, can see it on your face and can feel it with the way your pussy squeezes him so tight. Sucking him in and matching the same greediness you held in terms of his cock. He suddenly flips you so that you’re now on your back, pushing your legs to your chest and pounding into you so hard that you know you’ll wake up sore. You lean your head up and capture his lips in a rough kiss, teeth clashing and tongues twisting together as you moan into each others mouths. Your head falls back into the couch cushion, his lips moving to kiss your throat and neck, as your orgasm washes over you. Eyes screwed shut, small whimpers and pants slipping through your lips, Rafe’s name filling the room as you cry out. He feels you squirting around him, clenching so fucking tight and pulls away from your neck to watch your tight, wet hole stretch around him, and that sends him over the edge. His head falls back into the crook of your neck, the soft skin muffling his loud grunts and groans as he fills you up. It’s pornographic, the way you both look and the sounds currently filling the room, and Rafe has never been so happy for the cameras that record it all.

You both lie there, skin sticky with sweat and arousal, out of breath and tired, just enjoying the way you feel like this. You feel him go soft and pull out of you which causes you to let out a whine from the loss of fullness, he chuckles and watches his seed leak out of you. “Tsk tsk princess, can’t let this go to waste can we? Let me just…” he trails off, taking two of his fingers and stuffing the cum back into you before pulling your panties back on. You moan at the feeling, squirming and clenching your thighs together while he just laughs at you.

“Let’s go to bed baby, bet you’re real tired after that yeah?” you nod, letting out a small yawn which causes him to do the same. He scoops you into his arms and you bury your face into his neck. You hear the door open and Rafe take a few steps before you’re placed in the soft and cool comfort of the king sized bed. ‘Thank god for cooling bedsheets and comforters’ you think to yourself, the sweltering heat outside was almost unbearable when the wind wasn’t blowing and you weren’t in the water or in front of a fan. Rafe slides in the bed next to you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before turning the lights off.

“Goodnight baby, sleep well. I love you” but you were already out, he quietly chuckles to himself and pulls out his phone to lower the brightness. But curiosity gets the best of him…so he opens the security camera app, goes to the recently recorded videos, and saves the one of him fucking you senseless to him phone. He’d have to watch that one later when your needy pussy wasn’t there for him to bury his cock inside when he needed it.

[rafesgoldrings]

having thoughts about teasing rafe at like a family dinner or business dinner under the table and him almost getting them caught (this could tie in with trophy wife!reader too)

I’m 100% making this the trophy wife universe because I love it too much but it could also be read as a stand alone

Most of the time, you went to his business dinners solely as arm candy. You were smart, intelligent, hell even Rafe knew you could run his business if he were to ever need you to, but you also knew when to be silent. When to serve as just the younger, attractive, and well put together wife of Rafe Cameron, knowing the older men would be far too distracted gawking at you to really fight signing off on Rafe’s deal. But tonight was different, there was no deal needing to be agreed upon, it was just some of his business partners getting together for a nice dinner to celebrate their success. That also meant there wasn’t anything you could fuck up for your husband, and you’d been so needy all day that this was the perfect opportunity. You’d all been sitting at the table, the elegant white tablecloth draped over it decorated with candles and roses, the dim lightning in the restaurant making it hard to see what was happening under the table, when you’d started tracing Rafe’s cock over his slacks. He let out a loud hiss when your finger first made contact, the other glancing at him and asking if he was alright. He’d assure them his wine just went down the wrong pipe and they’d laugh about it, telling him it’s because it’s not his whiskey like he’s used to. Then you’d undo the zipper, the buttons, pulling his cock from his boxers and slowly stroking. Your poker face strong as you continued your conversations with the other men’s wives, setting up a nail appointment for that weekend and agreeing you could have a long overdue girls day. Your hand increased in speed when he started talking again, squeezing the tip and smearing around the pre cum that leaked out, his breathing was getting more uneven. It was becoming harder to speak with each twist of your hand, and right as he was about to come, he’d moaned. The others looking at him with wide eyes, you looking down to your lap and biting your lip to hide the smirk you had, luckily he had steak and blamed it on the fact that it was just super fucking good steak. They weren’t convinced entirely but let it go, your hand tucking his cock back into his boxers and pulling it away leaving him blue balled. With a clenched jaw and heavy breathing, he leaned over and whispered in your ear

“Just fucking wait until we get home. You’re going to regret doing that you needy fucking whore, i’ll ruin that tight cunt. You won’t walk for weeks”

Tag List: @sweetestdesire @congratsloserr @xyzstar @madelynie

[rafesgoldrings]

rafe getting a blowjob from trophy wife reader at work while he’s on the phone and her telling him to keep the conversation going🤭

This could go one of two ways honestly, he either requested it because he had a stressful day full of meetings and needed you to relieve him for a bit and didn’t care if the person on the call heard, or you waited until you knew he’d be getting an important call to tease him knowing you’d get a punishment. If it was the latter, you’d walk into his office, your skirt hiked up and blouse unbuttoned exposing your cleavage, and lock the door before striding over to him. He’d look at you with a confused expression while mouthing to you ‘i’m on the phone’, only fully realizing what you were doing when you got on your knees and crawled between his legs. He would have a stern look on his face warning you to stop, but you unbuttoned his pants and pulled his cock out of his boxers which effectively stopped his non verbal protest and pulled a small groan from him. You would bring the tip of his cock to your lips, sticking your tongue out and giving it small kitten licks, before sliding the whole thing in your mouth. Your eyes would never leave his, both because you knew he loved the eye contact and to make sure he wasn’t hanging up the phone. His breathing would quicken, free hand in his hair as he threw his head back and tried to keep his composure. The person on the phone call would ask if he was alright and you’d pull away and whisper so only Rafe could hear to keep talking or else you’d walk out and leave him there, cock fully erect and leaking precum. Obviously he didn’t want that so he assured the man that everything was fine, he had just gotten an email that frustrated him. You’d take him back in your throat, cheeks hollowed as you sucked harder, his hand would go to grab your hair and hold you in place when he finally came. His seed filled your mouth completely, you’d swallow it all with a big proud smile and stick your tongue out to show him it was gone. Once you stood up, you’d give him a soft kiss which allowed him to taste himself on your tongue and drove him wild. On the way out he would slap your ass harshly and mouth to you that he would deal with you later. Safe to say you were definitely going to have to call out of work the next day when he was done with you.

[rafesgoldrings]

Rafe x trophy wife where an employee talks down to the reader (not knowing who she is or how much power she holds) and she goes along with it, pretending to not know anything about Rafe’s business until the man himself, aka her husband walks in at just the right time where the employee is calling the reader a dumb bitch for not knowing anything 👀

The guy had to be new because there’s no way one of the employees that had been there for awhile would even think about speaking to you that way, let alone actually say it to your face. It was subtle at first, each time he saw you grabbing the papers from your desk he’d offer to help you out. You thought he was just being nice after seeing the large stack of paper you had, but then he started saying snarky remarks to you. Any meeting you had with him was always full of something along the lines of ‘the adults are speaking sweetheart, why don’t you go get us some coffee and let us do our jobs’ and it took everything in you to not slap him. But you were smarter than that, smarter than him, and knew that if you planned it out, Rafe would catch him and the guy would quickly learn why he shouldn’t talk down to his fellow co workers. You sent Rafe a quick text asking him to come to your desk so you could give him something, and that wasn’t necessarily a lie…it was just a very early birthday gift that you conveniently decided to give him when you saw the asshole co worker approaching. You purposely sent him an email containing the wrong information about one of the sales Rafe made knowing it would set him off. The perfect plan to get this asshole caught. You’d gotten a reply saying he was on his way and smirked, setting your phone down and watching as the guy walked closer and closer. “Do you realize what you the hell you just did?” his face red and voice slightly raised. “No, did I do something wrong?” your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, a total look of absolute innocence on your face. You bit back a smile watching his nostrils flare, jaw clenching and chest rising with every increasing breath. “God you’re such a dumb bitch. You don’t know anything about this company. The only thing you’re good for is being the young hot thing in the office with good tits and a good ass who’s cu-“ a loud booming voice cutting him short. A smug look on your face as the guys face paled and eyes widened. Nobody wants their boss to address them in that way. That means they did something they shouldn’t have and are about to be fired. “Who the fuck do you think you are talking to my wife like that?” he looked down at your hand, noticing the giant diamond ring on your finger and name tag on your desk. ‘Y/N Cameron’ oh fuck. He tried to stammer his way through an explanation, he didn’t know who you were and he was sorry. But Rafe didn’t care, nobody disrespected his wife. You worked your ass off to help him and worked your ass off before he’d even married you to help his company. You were his equal, you deserved the same respect. “I-I’m sorry sir I don’t fucking care. Say you’re sorry and then get the hell out” apparently he didn’t move quick enough because Rafe grabbed him by the back of the neck and harshly pinned him against your desk. He cried out apologies before Rafe threw him to the ground, telling him to get the hell out of his building before he had him thrown out. He wasted no time scrambling to his feet and running out the doors, not even bothering to grab his stuff. You could only bite your lip and smirk, clenching your thighs together. There was something so hot about Rafe protecting you, he walked over to you and grabbed your hand. He’d place a gentle kiss to it and apologize for the employees behavior to which you promised him it was okay, it wasn’t his fault. The gift you wanted to give him? The very same gift you used to lure him in? A remote control to your new vibrating panties. “You’re going to kill me princess, but not before I have you on your knees in front of me. Crying, begging me to stop after about your 20th orgasm”

[rafesgoldrings]

okay trophy wife reader has cemented herself inside my head your stuff is just too good!! i was thinking that rafe would def have his card linked to the local fancy day spa/salon so she can go whenever she wants and absolutely sneaks in to see her topless getting a back massage. also reader def convinces him to get a couple's massage and rafe acts like he isn't into it

Getting carried away? Me? With trophy wife reader and Rafe? Who would have thought (Also thank you so much!)

He definitely does, and he also made sure to tell them to take extra good care of his girl when she went in. It was like a celebrity walked in when you arrived, they’d have flower petals leading to whatever services you were getting done, wine/champagne sitting out, your favorite music playing. Was it over the top? Yes. But you were Rafe Cameron’s wife and they weren’t taking any chances of not treating you right. There was one massage room that they made only yours so that way when you’d go and get your massage, Rafe would know exactly where you were (also because Rafe was a dirty dirty dog and they couldn’t have that happening just anywhere). On breaks, he’d sneak into the room and just stare at your bare back still glistening with scented body oil and feel his cock harden. You would hear his footsteps approaching, knowing it was Rafe because he always did this, before feeling his hands slowly drag down your back until he got to the towel that covered your ass. He’d slowly peel it off of you, inhaling sharply at the sight of your bare cunt that was glistening with your juices. Normally he’d be all for getting you ready for his cock, fingering you until you came and then eating you out until you did once more before fucking you. But on days when he didn’t have much time? His cock would be pulled out of his pants and pushed into your tight hole before you could even glance at him. Your little whimpers only encouraged him to go faster, the massage table shaking from every harsh thrust, until he filled you completely with his load. He would look in admiration at the mixture of your releases dripping out of you and onto the table before putting his cock away and cleaning you up, placing the towel back over you so that way you weren’t exposed before placing a small kiss between your shoulder blades. Once you managed to get your breathing under control and came down from your high, you’d tell him that you both had an appointment that weekend for a couples massage. He’d let out loud groan of annoyance, mumbling about how that was so ‘cliche and lame’ and how ‘he’s older and this big shot ceo who doesn’t do couple massages’ while walking out the door, having to go back to the office and finish out the day. But secretly, deep down inside, he loved it. Not only because he would get to see you strip down in a candlelit room, not because he’d get to see you covered in oil (that he would inevitably take control over and give you his own kind of massage once the actual massage was over), but because you’d also thought of him and wanted to pamper him. It turns out, Rafe actually loves massages. He would end up falling asleep halfway through, soft snores filling the room, and you couldn’t help but to take a video. From there? You’d managed to convince him to get one with you every weekend, and he agreed without hesitation.

[rafesgoldrings]

Okay so we got jealous Rafe…but what about jealous trophy wife reader. Let’s say an older woman, one Rafe’s age, starts stopping by the office because she’s thinking about doing business with him. She starts getting a little too friendly with him and it makes reader a little upset since she’s so much younger. One day the woman and Rafe go into his office for a private meeting and reader goes in and drops to her knees and starts sucking Rafe off so the lady gets the hint

OH MY GOD?? The gasp I just gusped (I also hit the text limit writing this and if that doesn’t say anything about the obsession I have with trophy wife reader and Rafe, I don’t know what will😭)

 You didn’t like her. Didn’t even have to speak to her to know that she was an insufferable cunt who was up to no good, the way she stared you down with that irritating smirk and gave Rafe fuck me eyes told you what you needed to know. Part of you was already insecure enough being with Rafe, he was older, smarter, and a hell of a lot more successful and experienced than you, now this stupid older woman, closer in both his age and success, was here making moves on him. You had no doubt he loves you for who you are, despite the age gap and success level differences, but that didn’t stop you from seeing red each time they spoke. You really did try to keep yourself collected in order for him to secure this business deal, he’d told you how important it was to the company and you weren’t trying to fuck that up for him. But when she walked into his office alone, him following shortly after, that was your final straw. You’d stormed towards his door, red bottoms that your husband bought you echoing prominently in the room, before opening it and storming inside not bothering to close the door behind you. “Baby? What are you doing here?” Rafe asked with a nervous chuckle, he was so close to securing the deal and getting rid of the woman before you’d stormed in. The man wasn’t an idiot, in all his years of being alive and working in the business he’d seen women just like her. The ones that would flirt and sleep their way into a deal, that’s why he’d always reject her and remind her he was a happily married man, it just didn’t deter her at all. You said nothing to him, just walked over in front of him and sank to your knees, unbuckling his belt and undoing his business slacks before pulling his cock out and stroking it with your hand. You’d made it a point to exaggerate your wedding ring, all the diamonds shining brightly against the fluorescent lights above you. His hips would buck into your hand and you sent her a smirk from across the desk. A big look of ‘see how he responds to me. he’s mine, fucking back off’ loving the look of unease she gave you. Her jaw slightly clenched and breathing becoming increasingly more rapid as she grew more irritated. His hand instinctively flew to your hair and pulled it in a makeshift ponytail, moving your head so your mouth was lined up with his cock. You’d stick your tongue out and place it flat against his tip, slowly pushing more in until his cock was hitting the back of your throat before wrapping your lips around it and sucking. The small whimpers he was making mixed with the feeling of being watched made you more eager to keep going, hands moving to play with his balls and moaning around his cock like he loved you doing. Your fellow employees could easily see and hear everything, but nobody would say a word. You could have them fired within seconds if they dared, and they wouldn’t say a word to their boss knowing he could make their life hell, so they opted to mind their own business. The woman cleared her throat, alerting Rafe to her presence again, and raised her brows like she expected him to tell you to stop. To her surprise, he just mumbled a quick ‘sorry, where were we?’ you still on your knees sucking him off under the desk. Each time she’d speak to him, you sucked harder, squeezed his balls harder, so he’d let out a loud groan of your name and remind her of her place. The deal would quickly come to a close right as he came. Thick ropes of cum coating your tongue and throat, you kept sucking him dry. It wasn’t until he physically pulled you off that you stopped, turning your head to the side just in time to see her walk out of his office and shout “thanks for doing business with my husband! next time keep yourself in line yeah?” the taste of him still fresh on your tongue. He’d pull you up by your throat into a sloppy kiss. “That was so fucking hot baby, want to fuck you on my desk” he’d mumble on your lips, striding over to the door to close and lock it before returning to you, bending you in half over the desk and pushing your skirt up so that he could have his way with you

[rafesgoldrings]

Prompt 43 “Did I tell you to touch?” with maybe rafe and trophy wife where he is punishing her by only letting her grind on (any part) of him, but she isn’t allowed to touch him at all! (If that makes sense)

You accidentally brought your hands on top of his shoulders, earning a quick slap to your cheek. “Did I tell you to touch princess?” a cocky look on his face knowing it held a double meaning.

You had touched yourself without permission while he was on a business trip for a few days and he decided to punish you by allowing you to grind on his thigh, only on the agreement you weren’t allowed to touch him…at all. You’d tried so hard to do so, but as your orgasm quickly approached, you began losing your balance and instinctively reached to steady yourself using his broad shoulders.

“N-no, ‘m sorry Rafe’ your voice coming out wobbly as you tried holding back your tears. The overwhelming amount of pleasure you were experiencing making you way more sensitive than usual.

“Don’t cry sweetheart, just do better yeah?” you nodded and continued grinding against his thigh. You tried desperately to keep your hands to yourself but it was hard to keep your balance as your orgasm began to wash over you. Rafe noticed and gripped your hips firmly, not wanting you to fall and get hurt, and helped you ride it out on his thigh. Your head was thrown back and jaw slack, small moans of his name slipping off your tongue and your hips rapidly glided back and forth.

Once you’d finally calmed down, you’d climb off his leg and sit on your knees in front of him on the plush rug. He’d give you a gentle smile, rubbing his thumb along your lip and pulling it down. Gently bringing two fingers down to his soaked thigh to collect some of your juices, he slid his fingers inside your mouth to allow you a taste.

“Have you learned your lesson baby?”

“Yes, won’t do it again. I’m sorry” he gave you a gentle kiss and stood, walking towards your bathroom to take a hot shower as you remained on your knees still trying to gather yourself properly and stop your legs from shaking so much.

[rafesgoldrings]

Oh my god. I can’t stop thinking about Rafe finding Trophy wife’s “toys” and him teasing her about having them, and then using them on her! I need it!!!

(Anon your mind? Brilliant, I hope you enjoy this because I am writing it very sleep deprived😭)

He would find them when he was cleaning, slightly offended that maybe he wasn’t fucking you good enough, and lay them out on your shared bed for you to see when you came home. It wasn’t but about ten minutes later that you did, taking off your shoes and hanging your purse before walking into your bedroom. Eyes widening at the sight of all your toys laying there, Rafe sitting in the chair next to your bed with a smirk on his face. “Hi baby, found some very interesting things. Want to try them out since apparently they were just so special that you wanted to keep them a secret. Strip and get on the fucking bed whore” he practically growled, causing the ache between your thighs to grow. It wasn’t that he wasn’t pleasing you enough or the right way, but when he was away for long trips you needed something to help relieve yourself. You quickly did as he said, eyes closed in anticipation before a low buzzing filled the room. You felt the familiar vibrations against your clit as your eyes shot open, Rafe holding it there and letting out a low chuckle at your cries. Hips bucking off the bed and fucking into both his hand and the small vibrator. Your arousal leaking from your slit to your ass, smearing onto your inner thighs when they clamped shut. He’d grab another toy from the bed, rubbing it up and down your dripping hole teasingly before sliding it in all the way and fucking you harshly with it. Small whimpers and moans of his name filled the room, echoing off the walls as you got closer. “This tight little cunt is just too needy hm? Needs something buried deep inside it all the time. And this puffy little clit always needs attention just like you, huh slut?” you’d nod your head, too fucked out to properly respond. He would increase the speed of both his hand and the toy abasing your clue and watch as your body responded so beautifully. Back arching of the bed, hips bucking into the toys, mouth hung open and head thrown back as you fell apart, it was beautiful. The toy would have a white ring around it from your release, cunt glistening from all your arousal and clit throbbing and swollen as he pulled them away from you. His hands would hold your hips down as he brought his lips to your forehead and placed a soft kiss to it. He’d make sure to tell you that you were so good for him and he loved you so much…..but that this wasn’t the last time he used them on you. Only bad girls have secret naughty toys and since you wanted to be a bad girl, he was going to use it against you until you were crying and begging him for mercy.