You Don't Know How Many Times I Reread This Series

you don't know how many times i reread this series 🥹🥹🥹

cam girl (part twelve) (end)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning alcohol use

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

{ masterlist }

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Rafe realizes his hands are shaking as he rereads your text.

His eyes keep going over your words, standing up off his bed and pacing around his room just because the adrenaline won’t let him stay seated.

Why the fuck are you doing this to him?

i’m done. this is over. i’m not even a fucking person to you am i

Hot anger bubbles inside his chest. He immediately texts you back: what the fuck do you mean

Minutes pass. You don’t answer.

Rafe: ?????

Again. No answer.

Rafe: dont ignore me

He can’t take it anymore. He taps on the Call button. It rings and rings and rings. He texts you again.

Rafe: answer me

Finally, you respond: i dont need to listen to you. leave me alone

This has to be a cruel joke. Yet again, you’re cold to him out of fucking nowhere, after he thought you had a good time together.

Rafe recalls this morning, to the worried look on your face when you saw his black eye, making him think that maybe you see something of value past the wall he built around him.

He risked his pride by telling you that he always thinks about you, and now you’re done with him?

He texts you again: why are u acting like this

Thank fuck you respond.

You: i guess the slut got bored of you first

His body goes cold. He knows you’re referring to what one of his friends said. You heard that?

If that’s why you’re so pissed off, he needs to talk to you about it in person. He grabs his car keys and rushes out of the house.

Rafe is pounding on your door for so long that his hand is starting to hurt almost as much as it did when he threw those punches last night.

He feels himself teetering on the edge, getting close to the manic state he knows and hates.

He pulls his phone out to text you: open the door

You: ??? i’m not home

At this point, he sees red. He could break his damn phone if he didn’t need it right now. He calls you again, his jaw clenched so tight that it hurts.

His stomach tightens when the dial tone stops after two rings.

“Am I gonna have to block your number?” you say when you answer. The sound of a crowd and loud music buzzes in the background. He clues in that you’re at a party.

“Where are you?” he asks, head hanging, staring at the hallway floor.

“That’s none of your business.” He can hear a slur in your words.

“Are you drunk?”

“I can drink if I want to. I know you love to think you own me, but you don’t.”

Rafe swallows hard, shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He heard your voice shake. Fuck. You’re crying and it’s his fault.

“Where are you?” Rafe repeats. “Let’s - we need to…” He’s stammering, anxious and unbalanced. “We need to talk… I swear, I’ll fucking wait here until you come home if you don’t tell me where you are.”

Your back is against a wall, the phone pressed to your ear. The room is loud and humid from all the bodies crammed together into one house.

You hate that you’re crying over him and you hate that he can hear it. As if his ego needs the boost.

“Why?” you finally ask, voice strained, hoping he’ll tell you what you want to hear. That there’s a part of him that cares about you.

Rafe is silent for a moment.

“Which one is it?” His chest is tight. He can’t say it now. Not over the phone.

“Neither,” you reply, then hang up. You know he’s just horny and possessive and mad. And definitely bluffing.

You shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but you take another shot. Time melts away from you as you get lost in the music with your friend, determined to get Rafe and his drama off of your mind.

It’s half past one in the morning when you order a cab. The alcohol has almost worn off at this point. Someone spilled a drink on you and you just want to take a shower and sleep. You have to promise yourself that you won’t give into the impulse to wear Rafe’s shirt to bed.

You exit the elevator and your heart stops when you see Rafe sitting on the floor, his back against your door, his knee raised, his head slumped.

He meant it. He waited. For over three fucking hours.

When you get close enough for him to hear your footsteps, Rafe clambers up to stand, towering over you. His eyes sweep over your face, the blue in them even more prominent in contrast to the dark bruise over his right eye.

Even though your heart, the traitor, is thumping with desire, the ache of what he did to you is louder. It was barbaric, what he said about you. What he let his friend say about you.

“Why are you still here?” you say as evenly as you can.

“You can’t…” Rafe shakes his head, frustrated. He immediately notices you’re not wearing the necklace he gave you and his chest aches. “You can’t end this.”

“Watch me,” you say with a scoff, nudging past him. You feel him behind you, hear his shallow breaths. You unlock your door and pull out your keys.

He won’t move. You turn to look at him again, feeling your lips thin in aggravation.

“Rafe,” you state. “Please. I just want to shower and sleep. Go home.”

“No,” he says stubbornly.

“Why can’t you just go find another girl to fuck around with?” you say, raising your tone.

He almost feels nauseous hearing you say that.

“Are you worried you won’t find one who does everything like I do?” you ask. “I just can’t say no, right? That’s what you told your friends.”

Rafe looks down in shame, nostrils flaring. His lips screw up in anger. He has no words to offer.

“Go home,” you repeat. You’re sure he’s just upset about losing his favorite booty call, just so not accustomed to not getting what he wants.

Rafe doesn’t budge. You’re sober enough to know you can’t continue this conversation in the hallway and risk your voices carrying into your neighbors’ homes.

Frustrated and embittered, you turn your doorknob and accept the fact that he’s not leaving without a fight.

You turn on the dim overhead light and stand in your tiny kitchen, facing Rafe with your arms crossed, as the door shuts behind him.

He steps towards you, hands sliding up your arms before he leans down to try to kiss you.

“Stop,” you mutter, shoving him off, pushing him away.

He tries again, putting his palms on your cheeks.

“No,” you snap, driving him away harder.

Rafe feels hollow. Lost. He’s fine with showing anger. It’s second nature to him. But this? This tangled feeling of yearning feels impossible to verbally express to you.

“Why?” is all he can sputter.

“I’m not letting you use me anymore,” you say through gritted teeth.

Rafe had no idea you’d react like this over the moronic shit he and his friend said. He thought you were fine with how things were. That you were detached.

Despite the rage and anxiety consuming him, the fact that you’re this angry over this ridiculous idea that you’re not a person to him, that you maybe want to be more, makes hope bloom in his heart.

“It’s not like that,” Rafe says.

“It is,” you argue. “I’m done acting like I’m okay with it. I could handle it at the beginning, but…”

You sigh. You can’t give him the satisfaction of telling him you have feelings for him. You start to get choked up again, though, your body betraying you. You can’t hide what he does to you from him anymore.

“I’m done,” you say resolutely. This man is nothing but trouble. “My contact picture in your phone is a fucking nude. I’m just body parts to you and I respect myself too much to keep this going. Just leave. You won’t change my mind.”

“I can’t… I can’t not see you anymore,” he grovels.

“You’re just mad you won’t be able to brag to your buddies about what I let you do to me.”

“No.” Rafe brings the heels of his hands up to his eyes, looking so damn flustered. “I’m not mad about that. I… Fuck, it’s…”

“What about when he called me a slut to run through? You laughed. After he said something so fucking horrible about me-”

“Wait,” he snaps, tone rising. “Just wait. Let me talk.”

“Then talk,” you say sharply, shocked by his audacity to be the angry one here.

He takes a deep breath.

“When he called you that, I…” Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. “It’s how we always talk and I - I know that’s a shitty excuse, but I didn’t have the balls to tell him to shut the fuck up. And then last night…”

He vaguely gestures to his black eye. His mind replays the rage he felt when he heard the vulgar words used to describe you. The way his fist met his friend’s jaw. Rafe walked away with a swollen eye, but it was nothing compared to what he had inflicted.

“He said something about you and I beat the shit out of him like I should’ve the first time.”

“What’d he say?” you ask after a beat.

“It doesn’t matter.”

So, that’s what happened to him last night. You’re almost touched to hear he defended your honor, but the memory of the text you saw on his phone darkens your mood instantly, reminding you of how dispensable and cheap it made you feel.

“This the same friend who texted you about all the bitches at that party?” you say bitterly.

Rafe meets your gaze.

“You saw that?”

“Yeah,” you say. Rafe realizes that was the reason for your abrupt coldness. You were jealous. He hates that he hurt you, but admittedly, the feeling of you being envious over him is so fucking gratifying.

He sighs your name. He didn’t even glance at another girl last night. Why would he? “For fuck’s sake, I texted you all night. I told you I’m always thinking about you.”

“Rafe, you texted me about how all you want to do is hook up with me.”

“That’s not… that’s not all I want,” he sighs, defeated. How can he explain that the way he touches you is how he tells you what he’s feeling? He’s so fucking bad at talking about it.

“Then why did you talk about me like that?” you ask.

“I was…” Rafe begins. He swallows hard, his eyes refusing to meet yours now. “I know I shouldn’t have said that shit but-”

“You’re only saying this now ‘cause you got caught.”

“No, it’s - it’s more than that. I-”

“You were just being honest,” you say with a shrug. “I did everything you told me to and you wanted to brag.”

“Yeah- I mean, no…” he stammers. Your use of the past-tense is so damn hurtful, the implication that you really are through with him, and before he can think to hide it, tears start to gloss his eyes. “Just listen-”

“If I’m just an easy fuck to you, then that’s fine, just own up to it.”

“Let me talk!” he finally shouts. Rafe’s head is spinning. He’s angry and anxious and close to losing his mind.

You don’t even cower, not letting him get to you. But when you realize he’s crying, too, your blood runs cold.

“Goddamn it.” He frantically brings his hands up to his head, fingers on his temples. “I’m trying to tell you that I didn’t know how to- I don’t know how to talk about this fucking feeling you give me.”

“Try,” you say.

Rafe’s breath is shaky, blinking fast as he gazes at you.

“This is more than sex. I’m fucking… I’m falling for you,” he finally admits.

No words come to your mind. The air between you is thick. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Your stomach is numb.

Rafe lowers his gaze, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He’s worked himself up in such a panic.

He doesn’t know how or when you cracked into this side of him that he didn’t even know existed, but you did. And you’re not leaving.

“Are you serious?” you ask quietly through a shallow exhale.

“Do I need to beg you to believe me?” he says.

“Yeah,” you say with a sarcastic huff, pushing him to see where his limit is. To see if he’s being honest.

You can’t believe what you’re seeing when Rafe sinks down onto the floor in front of you, his knees on your cheap linoleum. He takes your hand in his, pulling it to his warm mouth, soft lips kissing your palm.

He realizes he would rather lose all of his pride than lose you.

“Rafe,” you say, the edge to your tone completely gone now.

The shift in your dynamic is harrowing. He’s always the one in control, the one with the upper hand. Now he’s on his fucking knees for you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I’m so fucking sorry I said that shit. I’ll never do it again. You’re not just an easy…”

He can’t even say it.

“You’re so much more,” he says. There’s hopelessness in his gaze. You’re rattled with shock, your heart feeling like it’s burning in your chest.

You can’t believe it. You can’t fathom that he likes you more than just from the waist down.

“What if I stopped hooking up with you?” you challenge. “I keep seeing you but it’s nothing physical. What then?“

“That’s okay,” he says, without hesitation.

“I mean no sex,” you say. “At all.”

“Fine.”

You pout at him in endearment as relief pools through you.

Rafe is racked with the deepest form of desperation. He can’t picture a day without you. Without your smile, your humor, your voice, your smell. He fell off the deep end and there’s no fucking saving him.

Your stare is puncturing him. He’s sure he fucked up too massively to earn any sort of chance with you ever again.

But when you finally lean down to press your lips onto his, euphoria rushes through his entire being. He frantically scrambles to stand, feeling his face contort with disbelief and gratefulness and a yearning so hard that it hurts.

Rafe’s kisses are deep but fast, his big hands cradling your head, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones.

You pull back, looking up at him with a tiny shred of remaining suspicion that he’s not being genuine.

“Let me stay the night,” he says, voice low, lids heavy. You’re unsure that he really means he’d be with you even without the sex.

You only look at him.

“I won’t try anything,” he adds. He knows you needed the reassurance. You stare at him with wide, vulnerable eyes, resting your hands on his firm, heaving chest.

“Shower with me,” you tell him, restless to wash the night off of you. “And prove it.”

Rafe nods, your face still in his hands. Fuck, he feels like you have him wrapped around your finger. He’d do anything to keep you in his life.

“Let me do the work,” he says.

You step back, heart racing, and raise your hands over your head. His fingers quickly find the edge of your top, slowly lifting it and pulling it off of you. Your jeans are next, the denim sliding down your legs.

Rafe presses against you, leading you backwards into your bathroom. His lips press against your forehead as he unhooks your bra and lets it fall to the floor.

He’s on his knees again as he peels your underwear off. You watch his eyes trail up your bare body. He can’t hide the lust in his stare, no matter how hard he tries.

As you turn on the shower, you hear the rustle of him taking his clothes off. When you step into the tub, you feel his body against your back. Big hands skim up your arms as you turn the faucet, prompting hot water to rain down on both of you.

Rafe can’t stop himself from asking.

“Did you talk to any guys at that party?” His voice echoes against the porcelain, loud even over the sound of the shower.

You smile to yourself.

“How am I gonna focus on another guy when you’re texting me so damn much?”

“Princess,” he huffs. You laugh and turn in his arms to rest your hands on his shoulders.

“No,” you tell him. “I didn’t want to.”

Rafe smirks and leans down, but stops an inch away from your lips.

“Am I allowed to kiss you?” he asks.

“Hmm… fine,” you tease. “But that’s the farthest you can go.” He captures your lips in his, his mouth warm. You feel him grow against you and you pull away to look down, his cock already almost fully hard.

“Okay, I can’t control that,” he says. You meet his eyes and share the first laugh that you’ve had together tonight.

You pick up your body wash and hand it to him. It’ll drive him crazy to touch you like this and not be able to do anything about it.

“You get my body,” you say, admittedly excited to tempt him. “And I’ll do my hair.”

Rafe’s forehead crinkles in concentration as he squeezes the body wash into his palm. Your eyes are on him as he lathers the gel over your shoulders first.

“You’re cute when you’re focused,” you giggle, starting to massage your shampoo into your hair.

The sound of your laugh, the aroma in the air is so fucking nice to him. It’s so you.

His palms move up and down your arms in gentle circles. Rafe’s groin is getting tighter by the second and the fact that he won’t get any relief for it is agony. But he needs to prove himself to you.

“You ignoring my tits on purpose?” you ask.

Rafe cocks his head in mild irritation. Touching you there will only make him harder. You exhale in pleasure once his hands rest on your breasts, gently kneading.

“You can’t make those sounds,” he says, voice strained.

“I can do whatever I want,” you reply. His hands dip below the curves of your tits. You purposely moan louder than you normally would just to torment him.

His jaw tightens as he collects more of your body wash to smooth down your stomach. His hands slide over your hips, the water and soap making your skin extra slippery, and he lands on your ass.

“Massage me a bit there,” you tell him. He huffs an aggravated chuckle, then starts to rub into your flesh.

The crook of Rafe’s neck is at your chin as he leans to massage you and you plant a gentle kiss on his wet skin. The gesture makes his stomach twist with adoration.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he mumbles, running his hands up your back. You can feel him against your leg; he’s fully erect and pining for you to touch him.

“My ass is still sore,” you groan, continuing to lather the shampoo onto your hair. “You were so rough on me in front the mirror, remember?”

The memory of fucking you on the floor in his room makes his arousal skyrocket even higher. He exhales and smooths his hands over your ass again.

You tilt your head to the side as you moan. You feel Rafe’s mouth press against your exposed neck, then he grunts against your skin and moves away abruptly.

“Getting frustrated?” you whisper.

“No,” he lies.

The hot water continues to ebb down your body as Rafe squeezes your ass.

“You can get my legs now,” you mumble. He’s half-relieved, half-frustrated to have to move his hands.

Rafe rubs in circles over your thighs, his breath heavy.

“Get on your knees so you can reach everything,” you say as you wash out the shampoo from your hair. You’re testing him, ordering him around like he usually does to you, seeing if he’ll crack.

When he kneels down, you hike your leg up onto the tub, your middle inches away from his face.

“Fuck,” he breathes, wishing he could just taste you. His hands are sliding down your calves as he gawks at the beauty between your legs, knowing you’re purposely tempting him.

His eyes trail up to your face. He looks ravenous for you.

Falling for you. He said he was falling for you.

“What?” you say with a smile. Rafe only shakes his head, continuing to run his hands over your legs.

“I said kissing is allowed,” you say, revelling in this feeling of control over him.

He doesn’t waste a second. His lips are against your pussy immediately, kissing you over and over. If you tried to keep count of how many kisses he was planting on you, you’d fail in seconds.

Arousal twists deep inside you, wanting him so badly, but loving the game you’re playing.

His lips wrap around your clit and he starts to suck, prompting you push your fingers through his hair, damp from the shower, and tug to pull him off of you.

“Kisses only,” you say. “Unless you didn’t mean what you said?”

“I did,” he huffs. He roughly shoves your wrist away to get close to you again, lips puckered. You feel his fingers ghost over your inner thighs, then pull apart your lips.

“Can I spread you open, baby?” he asks.

“No,” you respond.

“Please,” he begs.

“Kisses. Only.”

He groans. You laugh.

“You got me so turned on,” you moan. “I need to just…”

You slip your fingers between his mouth and your clit, denying him any more access.

Rafe thinks this could be thing to that finally makes him lose his fucking mind. But he stays still, knees aching from the hard tub, as you play with yourself right in front of him.

“That feels so nice,” you whisper, your knees weak. You put your other hand against the shower wall, looking down at him.

“Hold me up,” you order. He grips your hips and watches you moan and writhe over him, dipping your head back.

You dip a finger inside of you, tightening and sighing.

“Fuck.” He literally whimpers the word.

“God, there’s so many things I can think about while I touch myself,” you moan. “Like when we fucked in your car? Or when I squirted on you?”

“Which time?” he mutters, trying to have any sort of power right now by reminding you of what he can do to you.

“Aw,” you coo. “Is this like when I’m on camera? You can watch but you can’t touch me?”

“Shit,” Rafe breathes. You moan, the water dripping off of you.

He has to look away at this point. His cock is so hard that it hurts. His eyes go low, seeing a bead of precum on his swollen tip. He tries to comfort himself by thinking about how he can jerk off later.

“Get up,” you say. He brings himself up on his feet, towering over you again.

You turn your back to him again and start to rub your scalp to make sure you washed all the shampoo out.

“You’re probably cold on that side, hmm?” you ask.

Rafe’s temperature is the least of his concerns.

“I’ll keep you warm,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder. You run your hands down your body and pause over your ass, spreading yourself open.

“Put your cock right here,” you tell him.

“I- I can’t,” he moans.

“You can,” you encourage.

He kneels to place himself right where you want him. You let go, your asscheeks hugging him, feeling his length pressed up against you.

“Fuck,” he whispers, twitching against you. “This is… fuck…”

“If you didn’t mean that you can be with me without the sex, just say so.”

“I meant it,” he says. “But this is torture. I need to go. I’ll wait for you in your room, okay?”

“You can’t keep it together for me?” you tease. “I thought you liked me.”

“I fucking love you,” Rafe groans, making your heart flutter.

You’re done playing this game. You need him now.

You turn to face him, pulling him down with your hands cupping his neck to kiss him. He’s biting your bottom lip, kissing you hard.

“We don’t have to do this,” he whispers breathlessly.

“I want to,” you say against his lips, wrapping your hand around his cock. “What do you want?” He bucks up against you, groaning.

“I wanna fuck you,” he pleads.

“Then fuck me.”

Rafe’s rough and fast as he hitches your leg up, pushing you to lean against the shower wall. He lines himself up at your cunt, stretching you so much nicer than your fingers ever could.

He keeps his eyes on you when he thrusts into you, his expression both needy and satisfied.

“Thank you,” he whispers. The feeling of him thanking you for letting him be inside you hits you like a drug.

Rafe is in heaven. You squeeze him so fucking good as he rocks in and out of you. He needs to make you cum before he does. You deserve it. You deserve all the pleasure in the world.

When he starts to rub his thumb over your clit, you’re trembling with bliss. Everything in this moment feels so damn good.

“You’re my girl,” he mumbles, his usual possessive side back now. “Say it.”

“I’m your girl,” you respond. “Fuck… I love you.”

Rafe is sure he has never felt happier in his life. His thrusts get harder and faster, and with the pressure on your clit and the hot water coating your body, you whine through your orgasm.

To him, it’s a gift watching you reach your peak. You clench around him in rhythmic flutters and he can’t hold back anymore, his cum gushing out of him so fucking hard that he sees stars.

This is the best sex he’s ever had. Because now he knows it’s more than just something physical for both of you.

He kisses you hard as his body trembles, pumping into you. His forehead is against yours as you pant together and even though he’s exhausted, he stays inside you as long as he can manage.

When he pulls out, he brings his hands to your cheeks and kisses you again.

“You meant that?” he asks. He needs to know you that really do love him. That it wasn’t a heat of the moment thing. You look up at him, his lips parted, the water dripping down his face.

“Yes,” you say. His dimples are deep in his cheeks as he smiles at you.

As Rafe helps you clean up, he’s pissed at himself that he never did this before. He hates that you had to always do this alone. He won’t ever let that happen again.

Once you’re both lying in your bed, your bedroom dark save for a streetlamp casting a dull light through the window, Rafe holds you tight.

Your cheek is against his shoulder as he surrounds you in his arms. You both remained naked and the feeling of your bare bodies pressed together like this is perfection.

You softly trace your finger over the bruise covering his eye. The one his friend left on him because of something he said about you.

“What’d he say?” you ask.

“I’m not repeating it,” Rafe replies.

“Please?” you ask. “I wanna know what made you go crazy.”

“He said I seem happier lately,” Rafe says. “And before I told him it was because I wanna… be with you for real, he said… he wants to see if he could get…”

“God,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. He doesn’t have to say any more. His buddy wanted a turn with you.

“But hey, I’m not gonna let anyone say anything like that about you, okay?” he promises. “I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who tries to.”

You picture being out in public with Rafe, his arm around you. And you can’t help but ask. You need to know.

“So… are you gonna… want me around your friends and stuff?” you ask.

“Of course,” he tells you, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re my girl, right?”

It’s jarring. You’re not a lower-class maid to him. Not his personal whore. Not his slutty sugar baby. You’re a woman he loves.

Legs tangled, you fall asleep together, and you adore that the worry of falling for him is now gone. Because you’re in love, and so is he, and now you can enjoy him without telling yourself you can’t.

When you wake up the next morning, you shuffle in your position to find him, but you’re alone.

Your heart drops. Could he have been faking…?

You can’t jump to that conclusion. You’re about to check your phone when you hear crinkling coming from the kitchen.

You put on underwear and the shirt you stole from him a while ago before padding into the kitchen. He’s standing over your table, removing containers from bags.

You realize it’s from your favorite nearby bistro. He ordered food for you.

“Breakfast?” you ask. Rafe looks up at you and he doesn’t understand how every time he sees you, you strike him with how adorable you are.

“You hungry?” he says.

You settle across from him at the table. You realize he must have referenced the screenshot you sent him after the first night that he stayed over, when he sent you money to order breakfast and you sent him proof of what you bought.

As you dig into your food, you gaze at him. Blue eyes meet yours. He smirks. It doesn’t feel real. He used to look so out of place in your apartment, but this feels so natural.

“We gonna talk about how much of a cuddler you are?” you tease.

“Shut up,” he laughs. “Eat your food.”

You laugh and continue to chew.

“What do you have to do today?” he asks.

“I should study,” you say. “I was going to last night after work, but you know…”

Rafe looks down and his Adam’s apple bobs with his hard swallow.

“Are you gonna keep working?” he asks. “I don’t want you to. I wanna take care of you.”

As much as he loves seeing you around his house twice a week, he’s been getting more and more uncomfortable with the idea of you having to work so hard, having to clean up after him.

“Yeah,” you finally say. “I think I need to have the independence. To know I’m working for my own money. Does that make sense?”

“With your attitude? Yeah,” he says. You laugh.

You hope the gossip between your coworkers doesn’t get any farther up the chain. For now, you want to keep your job and the steadiness it promises.

“You can’t pull me away from my work to hook up whenever you want, though, okay?” you say.

“Even when I find you in my bed?” he asks.

“That was one time,” you scoff.

Rafe leans over to place his phone in front of you. He has your contact info up. The photo isn’t what it was before, though. It’s a photo of you sleeping, cheek pressed on his chest.

He must have taken it this morning. He wants to prove you’re not just a body to him.

Your eyes study his screen and you smile, oblivious to the fact that he’s staring at you.

But then again, you never really noticed how much he looked at you whenever you came to work at the house.

He can still remember the rush he felt when he randomly found you on that damn website. You were a fucking fantasy to him, a dream that he never thought he’d get to live out.

But here you are and by some crazy stroke of luck, you found something in him worth loving.

Rafe always enjoyed having some sort of ownership over you, claiming you as his. Because deep down, he always kind of knew he belonged to you. Whether you want him or not, he’s yours.

(the end)

author’s note: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT FOR THIS SERIES 💘 it’s so bittersweet ending it. i had so much fun writing this and it’s because of your comments and messages 😭 i’ll be writing more fics! if you want updates, please follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications since i’ll be reblogging my work there. love you all!!!

“it’s late, come back to bed.”

PROMPT CELLY GO BRRRRRRRRR. thank u for requesting this one (forever ago) bestie!!!! 💓🤩👯‍♀️

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new light: space and time

rafe x reader, part of the 2k prompt celly for new light (masterlist if ur not up on NL). we’re back in the present!

A stubborn knot about the size of a fist had settled into place at the top of Rafe’s spine slowly over the last few weeks, right in between his often-taught shoulder blades.

He guesses it was during the late nights like these that it began to form, when he’s hunched over his sketching table in the garage lit only by the warm lightbulb in the work lamp over his head—drawing and erasing and scrapping to start over again and again. Or when he’s on his laptop tinkering with his website or any of the platforms he uses for invoicing and processing orders, easily his least favorite part of all of this, until his eyes are irritated and red.

Though it’s certainly not made better by the other half of his day, where he’s hunched over or crouching under his projects as he brings them to life, doubting himself the entire time, twisting himself into weird angles just to make sure everything holds and looks how he pictured it. But at least he likes that part.

A hand, holding a warmth that Rafe can feel through the cotton of his long-sleeve t-shirt, settles directly into place over that knot at the top of his spine, and he feels himself take a deep, steadying breath as he leans back into your touch.

“What’s this, baby, the built-ins?” you ask, your voice softer in these midnight hours.

“Yeah,” Rafe sighs, immediately rubbing his hands into his eyes, his knuckles turning his vision bleary momentarily. “For Beau’s friend.”

“Mmm,” you hum, slightly digging the heel of your palm into his back. Rafe lets out a groan. “There?”

“Right there,” he confirms, letting his head drop back gratefully, accepting a few sleepy kisses once he goes.

You place your other hand on his shoulder for some leverage, leaning over him to peer at his catastrophe of a workstation. “I thought you’d already gone over the sketches with them?”

“I did,” he says. “But they go in tomorrow.”

“Right,” you nod, scrutinizing them again, looking to see if they’d changed at all. “I remember.”

“So I’m just making sure—” Rafe stops momentarily, letting out a hiss. “Careful, baby.”

The pressure on his back eases immediately, and you take to rubbing your hand across the span of his shoulders instead. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I’m just making sure I have everything down,” he continues, leaning forward again. “I wanna know my stuff before I head in.”

“What if I quiz you? On measurements and colors and finishes and—”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm,” he interjects, his smile rivaling yours when you finally settle into his lap like he’d been angling for you to since he heard the garage door open and knew he’d be getting that reprieve from the mess inside his head. “But it doesn’t really work like that, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, snaking your arms around his neck anyway, the pads of your fingers rubbing circular motions into his trouble spot again. “Then how else can I get you to come back to bed?”

Guilt settles into Rafe’s stomach like a rock, the soreness in his back momentarily forgotten as he sees the plea in your eyes. “I swear I’ll be up soon.”

“Rafe, it’s late.”

“Coming from you,” he retorts, virtually no bite behind his words. Because as Rafe had left Beau’s company months ago and only since then become more entrenched in his new job, in starting his own business, you’d seamlessly settled in at your job at the publishing house, not overworking yourself nearly as much as the two of you used to argue about. Still more than Rafe would ever prefer, naturally, but he’s not sure he has room to talk anymore.

“We’re turning into perfect little Figure 8 capitalists right on schedule, aren’t we?” you say, wiggling around in his lap in a way he isn’t convinced isn’t a punishment for abandoning his side of the bed a few hours ago.

You lean forward, grabbing one of the pencils Rafe had discarded and tapping it on your chin while he checks his watch, feeling his eyes widen.

“God, I’m turning into my dad.”

“No you’re not,” you laugh, still leaning out of his reach as you seem to start writing something in one the margins. You pause, pointing the pencil at the long-cold cup of coffee next to his pencil cup. “Unless there’s secretly liquor in your decaf over there. You know decaf still has caffeine in it, right?”

At Rafe’s silence, you turn to him with your eyebrows raised, the pencil dropping out of your hand and clattering onto the table.

“Like… trace amounts, right?” he asks sheepishly.

“My sweet, sweet boy,” you sigh, running your fingers through the hair on top of Rafe’s head that’s really beginning to need a cut.

“Probably need it,” he shrugs. “I’ll only be up a little while longer though. Promise.”

“You’re really worried about this one, aren’t you?” you ask him softly, some of the mirth fading in your eyes as you trace a finger around the shell of his ear.

“It’s Beau’s friend, baby, I… these guys could have anyone working on their houses. And Beau was really good to me about quitting. I just wanna nail this one and be done with it,” Rafe admits.

He doesn’t tack on the bit about how this feels like one of his first big tests; his first custom, built-in piece period, outside of the ones he’s made for his most forgiving audience, his sisters and you. Because it’s one thing to make a piece for a friend of a friend of a friend, or even to sell one in a store where someone can see it and touch it and decide that they hate it before they have to commit. But it’s another to have someone counting on him to deliver exactly what they envision, let alone someone who could be Rafe’s foot in the door to a wealth of opportunities. He wants to be done with it at this point, sure, but he doesn’t want it to be the end of this road.

“Exactly,” you say, shrugging. “They could have anyone. And I love you, Rafe, but I mean literally anyone else. But your designs are good. Really good. And your craftsmanship is impeccable. They want you.”

He feels his cheeks heating up, and knows it’s showing based on the twinkle in your eye. “You’re an expert in furniture and carpentry now, are you?”

“I am, because I’ve now lived in two Pinterest-level apartments without ever having to hire a contractor. And I’m a picky bitch,” you say, laughing around the last bit.

“You are not,” Rafe laughs. “And half of that is your decorating. Maybe 70, 75%.”

“Your modestly will never not exhaust me,” you declare, smacking one last kiss onto his lips before standing up. “You’re gonna be fine tomorrow, alright? But you’ve got to get some sleep.”

“Ten minutes?” he pleads.

“I will generously give you ten seconds instead. It’s your lucky day,” you say, shuffling toward the doorway back into the house, where two curious dogs await your return.

“Thanks,” he answers sarcastically, before standing to check everything over one last time. These guys could have anyone, he tells himself. They chose him.

He’s gathering his pencils to deposit back into the cup, just about to reach over his head and turn off his work lamp for the night when he sees it, what you’d been scribbling into the margin on one of his designs: you got this RC. hurry home!

At just the same moment that he’s he’s tracing over your loopy “y” and the heart you’d finished your note off with, you call out his name from the doorway, his family waiting for him.

You give him a saccharine-sweet smile, your arms crossed over your chest. “I wasn’t asking.”

"Love Bites" - Alpha!Rafe Cameron x Omega!Reader

a/n: a request from @echos-muses for rafe x sarah's bff!reader. i added in a/b/o bc i'm a whore 🩷

Summary: Rafe is in for a pleasant surprise when you come back to the OBX for the Tanneyhill Halloween rager... Now an omega.

Word Count: 3,000

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, alcohol consumption, a/b/o dynamics, knotting, breeding kink, creampie, oral f receiving, fingering, overstim, pussy slapping, dom!rafe, innocence kink ig?, light choking hehe

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

There was always something about you that drew Rafe’s attention - Sarah’s sweet and unassuming best friend. While Sarah tended to be the life of the party, you were content to let her shine while you faded into the background, trying not to draw any attention to yourself. Rafe wonders how you’ve been able to fly under the radar for so long. After all, it’s no secret that you’re a knockout. He supposes it’s because you stay so quiet, like a little mouse, and keep to yourself for the most part. Hell, if you weren’t his little sister’s best friend, chances are he never would’ve even noticed you at school.

This makes it all the better for him, of course. No competition when it comes to you. He always figured he’d sow his wild oats, fuck his way through college, and then settle down with a nice girl like you. Sure, you’re not an omega, but presentation doesn’t mean everything, right? He can knot all the omegas he needs and satisfy his urges. And then? He can have you. His pretty little beta.

So, he puts you out of his mind as best as he can, focusing on the omegas who serve his immediate purposes. But, no matter how hard he tries to do that, you’re the face he imagines when he’s fucking them, wondering what sort of noises you’ll make, how your soft, warm body will feel under his own. He closes his eyes and tries to pretend they’re you, but the voice is never right, or the feel of their skin is off. It’s never right.

It’s a shame that you’re a beta, Rafe thinks that every day. A shy little thing like you would’ve made the perfect omega. God, he can see you right now, laying underneath him, taking his cock, begging him to fill you up with his knot, give you his pups. Rafe lets out a low groan, pulling out of the omega he was balls deep in, spilling himself on her back before abruptly dismissing her from his room. He grabs his phone to check his texts and is surprised to see a message from none other than his sister, asking him if he can keep an eye out for you at the party tonight just until she gets there since she’s running late.

Well, that works out for him perfectly, truth be told. The Tanneyhill parties can get a bit wild, so he doesn’t blame Sarah for wanting him to look out for you. After all, you’re the only person Rafe has ever shown genuine care toward other than Wheezie. Sarah always assumed it was brotherly affection, that he saw you as the least annoying of her friends. But it was so much more. Rafe comes across as your stereotypical alpha, but there’s more to him than that. That’s why he knows you’d be perfect for him.

Tonight, he’s finally going to make his move on you, his sweet little beta. You’re back from your fancy new college on the mainland - Brown, he believes, for the annual Tanneyhill Halloween rager. Sarah’s kept him apprised of your whereabouts so that he can look after you accordingly. Rafe can almost see you in his mind’s eye, sitting with Scarlet or one of the other girls near the pool as you always did at parties. He wonders what you’re dressing up as this year. Probably something low key as always. And he wonders If you look the same.

Guests start filling the mansion fairly quickly, music blaring, but Rafe is a man on a mission. He ignores Sophia, the latest omega he’s been fucking, letting her chatter on mindlessly while he waits for you to show up. She’s dressed as a cat, and honestly? He thinks her costume is ass.

As he stands there, trying to tune her out, eyes roaming over the sea of teens and twenty-somethings that have filled up his house dressed in their Halloween best, it hits him. A scent so sweet that it almost has his mouth watering. What the fuck is that? It’s an omega, but fuck, he’s never smelled this one before. That’s when he realizes who it is that’s just walked through the door.

You. Standing there in a little pink sundress, looking around nervously like a little lamb about to enter a wolf’s den. You’re even dressed for the part. A frilly red gingham dress and a crimson hood. Little Red Riding Hood. Is it just ironic that Rafe has dressed as a werewolf for Halloween or is it fate? He isn’t entirely sure himself. But God, your fucking scent. He can feel his entire body heat up at the sight of you, that innocent smile on your face as you greet some of your school friends, making your way to the kitchen to grab yourself a soda.

But this doesn’t make sense? You’re a beta… Why do you smell so fucking good? Why is his head spinning, his feet carrying him over to you before his brain can catch up? Why can he feel desire building in him, the likes of which he’s never felt before? Fuck, if this continues, his rut is going to start early, if it hasn’t already.

Rafe rests a hand on your shoulder, smirking to himself at the way you freeze at his touch. You slowly turn around, looking up at him, those innocent wide eyes of yours just as pretty as he remembers them.

“Oh, hi, Rafe,” you say in that gentle voice of yours, giving him a shy smile, “It’s good to see you.”

“You too good to give me a hug or something, little one?” Rafe teases, using the nickname he’s had for you for years now.

You quickly wrap your arms around his waist, giving him a hug. He wonders if you notice the way he buries his face in the crook of your neck, scenting you. Fuck, you’re like… Vanilla and spun sugar and honey… You’ve gotta be about to go into heat. Your scent is so fucking strong. It’s almost cloying, but not quite. It’s just sweet enough to drive him insane, to make him wonder if his presence is making the slick pool between your thighs under what is no doubt a flimsy pair of panties that match with that slutty little costume. He’s never seen you dressed like this.

“Sarah pick your costume?”

You nod, glancing around a bit nervously, “Yeah, she said I could only go as Lucy so many times before it became sad.”

He chuckles, moving his hands to rest on your waist. He can sense your surprise, practically hear the way your heart begins to pound, blood pumping through your veins. He’s never been this physical with you. He’s always kept a safe distance. Except he can’t anymore.

“How long since you presented? It happen when you were at Brown?”

You nod slowly, taking a sip of your drink, avoiding his gaze, “Uh huh. My mom had to fly up. It was a really late presentation so they did some tests at the hospital and stuff, but everything’s normal I guess.”

Rafe nods, giving your waist a gentle comforting squeeze, making you gasp softly, “Damn, bet it freaked you out pretty bad, huh?”

“Kinda,” you admit, “But luckily I’ve got really good suppressants and stuff. Like, my heat’s pretty close but I don’t think anyone can tell.”

Rafe can tell. God, he can tell. And judging by the gaze of some of the other alphas at the party, they can tell too. He lets out a quiet laugh, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I picked up your scent the minute you walked in.”

Your eyes go wide and you clap your hand over your mouth, “Shit…”

The innocence in your expression so tantalizing he almost wants to reach out and take it from you, claim you in front of everyone at this fucking party, dig his teeth into your claiming gland and show them all you belong to him. But, he resists. He’s got to play this right if he wants to keep you. He pulls back to brush your hair off your face, a teasing grin playing on his lips at your frantic rambling that you need to go home but don’t have a ride. You look so adorably helpless without your friend to protect you.

“Why don’t you come up to my room, huh? We can wait till Sarah gets here and then she’ll be able to take you home.”

“But you’ll miss the party…” You trail off, looking at him concerned, “I don’t wanna ruin your night, Rafe-”

“You won’t, little ‘mega,” he smirks, taking your hand in his own, reveling in the feeling of your smooth palm against his, “Let’s get upstairs before one of these big bad wolves tries to hunt you down, Little Red.”

You giggle at his stupid joke, giving him a burst of confidence as you follow after him. He can feel the jealous stares of his fellow alphas, the omegas annoyed that you’ve managed to capture his attention. You’re easily the tastiest little thing at this party and Rafe has every intention of eating you right up.

“You wanna take that little hood off?” He teases, watching as you look around his bedroom curiously, the way you startle when the door shuts making him want to tease you even more, “Don’t be afraid, little ‘mega. Not gonna hurt you.”

You give him a hesitant smile and do as he says, removing the hood, folding it and placing it neatly at the foot of his bed. You sit down, your body going stiff as he moves to sit beside you, his thigh pressed flush against yours. Rafe can smell your arousal, the slick pooling between your thighs as you press them together desperately. He rests a hand on your thigh, just above where the stockings you wear, squeezing your flesh. The little whimper you let out is enough to set him off. He leans in close again, his nose trailing along your neck as he inhales your scent.

“You smell so good, ‘mega, you know that?” Rafe murmurs, nipping at your throat. He pins you down to the bed, letting out a low groan as you part your legs to accommodate him, your body so soft and pliant beneath his, “You know I want you, don’t you? Even when I thought you were a beta, I wanted you. And now, you come back. My little ‘mega. Did your heat kick in when you saw me, baby?”

You let out a soft gasp as you feel his fingers rubbing at you over the fabric of your lacy panties. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes scrunching shut as you buck your hips up against him, the heel of his hand rubbing against your swollen clit. Rafe watches you, nearly salivating at the way your face twists in pleasure, the scent of your heat pervading the room as he pushes your panties aside and eases two fingers inside you. You’re so fucking tight, so wet… Rafe doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life as he begins fucking you with his fingers, watching the way you writhe against him, the way you moan and whine and lean into his touch.

“Is this your first heat, little one?” You nod wordlessly, squirming as he moves his fingers faster and faster, holding your hips in place with his free hand, grinning at the sight of you, hair splayed out against his pillow as he continues, “Don’t worry. I’ll help you through it, ‘mega. Through this one and every one after. You want your alpha’s help, don’t you?”

“My… My alpha?” You repeat breathlessly, letting out a cry as he rubs against your sweet spot.

Rafe moves his fingers faster and faster, watching your tits strain against the fabric of your costume as you breathe heavily, soaking his fingers with your slick, a grin spreading across his face as you practically scream his name. You stare up at him as he licks his fingers clean, your lips parted in awe, eyes hazy with lust.

“Yes, little one. I’m your alpha. And you’re my omega.” Rafe wastes no time moving to sit on his haunches between your legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of your lace panties, tugging them off with an eagerness that surprises even him. He brings them to his nose, inhaling the scent of your arousal, letting out a low groan. Rafe can tell you’re enjoying it, the way your eyes go wide at his actions, his tongue darting out to taste your panties before he shoves them in his pocket, “Taste so fuckin’ sweet, little one. You gonna let me taste that pretty little pussy?” He snickers when you just lay there, your mouth agape, yelping when he lands a slap on your core, “Well? Use your words, ‘mega. Tell your alpha you want him to taste you.”

“Please, alpha…” You manage to whisper, “Want you to taste me…”

He doesn’t hesitate, dragging his tongue along your slit lazily, never once breaking eye contact with you. Rafe’s gaze holds you captive as he starts drawing lazy circles around your clit, the feeling almost too much for you to bear. In spite of wanting more, you feel your thighs moving together, your back arching up as you squirm away from him. But your alpha isn’t having that. Rafe lets out a low snarl, his grip on your thighs bruising as he pulls you back toward him, burying his tongue inside you, making the lewdest, most obnoxious slurping noises as he laps at your slick folds, eyes still trained on you. Your heels dig into his back as he mouths at you, nuzzling his nose against your clit, working his tongue against you over and over and over.

It doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself, soaking his tongue with your slick, but he just keeps going. He’s had a taste and now he’s addicted to you. So no matter how you squirm or struggle or whine his name, saying that his tongue feels too rough against your overstimulated pussy, he doesn’t care. His mouth moves against you like a man starved, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he keeps licking at you, alternating between long lazy strokes against your cunt and suckling at your pearl. Tears fall from your eyes from how good he’s making you feel, losing yourself as he brings you to your peak once, twice, three times more.

“Need to get you ready to take my knot, ‘mega,” he murmurs, nipping at your inner thigh, “So lay back and take it like a good little girl.”

“Yes, alpha…”

You watch as he moves to sit on his knees, hands quickly undoing his jeans, tugging his torn tee shirt over his head. Rafe knows he did the absolute minimum with his costume, grabbing the two little wolf ears and getting ready to toss them aside. But then, you rest a hand over his, shaking your head.

“Can you keep them on? I…” You shy away under his gaze, giggling slightly, “It’s like… Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf…”

A wicked smile curls on his lips as he nods, leaving them in place. He tugs at his cock, pushing inside you with one quick thrust. You let out a choked gasp, your pussy squeezing around him so tight. He goes into his rut immediately, his mind taken over solely by the thought of claiming you, giving you his knot, filling you up with his cum, watching it leak out of your swollen pussy. Your legs wrap around his waist as his hips piston against yours, his fat cock splitting you open, your lips parted as you mewl his name.

“That’s right, ‘mega, tell me how good your alpha’s making you feel,” he taunts, one hand pinching at your clit, making you squeal, while the other tugs the top of your costume down just enough to free your tits, his eyes going wide with delight as he watches them bounce.

“You, alpha,” you babble mindlessly, “Want your knot, want you to cum inside me, wanna have your pups, oh God…”

“Pussy’s so tight, ‘mega,” Rafe groans, his balls slapping against you, rubbing his fingers against your clit, smacking at it, making you scream his name, “Come for me, little one, come on. I know you can.”

You cry out, spilling yourself on his cock, but he just fucks you through it. His knees rest on either side of your hips now, your legs dangling over his shoulders as he fucks you harder and deeper than before, his mouth meeting yours in a hungry kiss. He devours you completely, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you, his hand wrapped around your throat. Rafe glances downward, smirking slightly at the sight of his cock bulging against your stomach and presses down, making you whine as you reach your peak yet again. His knot fills you and he spills himself inside you with a growl of your name, the two of you falling back against the bed, utterly sated.

“Can I…” Rafe trails off, his hand brushing the hair that’s matted to your forehead away, kissing you gently, “Give you my bite?”

You nod, letting out a breathless whisper, “Please…”

And he does, bonding you to him forever, the feeling of his tongue soothing the bite mark making you whine as you return his bite with one of your own. The two of you cling to each other, waiting for his knot to deflate, the noise from the party still echoing through the hall. But neither of you care. You’re too busy basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

And when Sarah walks in on the two of you? She can’t even be angry because she’s never seen you so happy.

babe I just had the best idea for a rafe concept it pains me

Okay so imagine like reader is at work (somewhere idk where) and she just gets so overwhelmed but her and rafes relationship is still new so she doesn't call him because she doesn't wanna bother him....😭

I'm probably not the first person to think of this but it ON MY MINDDDD

literally dropped everything to write this!!!! this reader is way too me coded and I cannot :’) thank you so so much for the req vee 🥹💗 you asked for a concept… I wrote a fic…. :D I hope you like this vee <3

down for you

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: rafe wants you to be able to rely on him for anything and everything.

WARNINGS: the reader is a preschool teacher and quite self dependent; lots of fluff; cute nicknames; lovesick rafe (my fav fr); minimal swearing

EDITH SPEAKS: this request speaks volumes to me 🥹 this is way too me coded, and I just had to write it, I hope you all like this! the ending is maybe a bit abrupt tho :( please like and reblog if you liked reading <3 feedback is always appreciated 🍹

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I should leave, I haven't yet, but when you smile, I just forget

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You can swear this day can't get any worse. You’ve been on your feet basically the entire day, always rushing from your students here to there. You love the little kiddos with your entire heart, but today, for some reason, they are being an extra pain in the ass. They aren’t as cooperative as you’d prefer; you don’t know what’s gotten into them, they are like little energy packets constantly running around.

Due to some teacher duties you aren’t even able to sit down for your lunch break, taking away the only 15 minutes you have to yourself. And it just gets progressively worse when you finally leave the school to go back to your place and your car has a slashed tire, and today had to be the day when you don’t have a spare tire in your trunk.

It’s been over 6 hours since you left your house this morning, and it’s just Tuesday, but it’s feeling like the longest, most excruciating week ever. You’re now leaning against your car door, letting out a deep exhale as you lean your head back, feeling a headache creep into your brain and pulse harshly. You’re tired, hungry, absolutely exhausted… and all you want are the warm hugs of your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Rafe is quite a new addition in your life, both of you being together for a mere month. He’s been so loving to you, always protective and just genuinely taking great care of you.

You pull out your phone and find his contact, but before you can dial him, your thumb hovers over his name in sudden realization – he’s always at work at this time.

You begin to contemplate your initial decision of asking him to come here to help you out, and then ultimately decide against it, realizing he’s probably very busy at work, and would only be heavily distracted if you call him.

So, just like how you always do it, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It’s nearing 6 pm when you finally get to reach your place. You had to make calls to get yourself a mechanic to get your car fixed, who took his sweet sweet time to come to you. You’re now completely exhausted, wanting nothing more than just to plop on your bed and sleep till your heart desires. You can hear your stomach grumble since you never had the chance to eat the lunch you missed out on, but you make it a problem for later, deciding to just take a nap first.

As you drive into your driveway, you recognise Rafe’s black Range Rover already parked, with him standing next to it, leaning back against the hood of his car as he’s looking intently at his phone. As he catches the sound of your car driving, he instantly looks up, watching your car enter the driveway.

Before you can properly park and get out, Rafe rushes to you, opening the door for you.

“Oh my god where have you been?” He asks you, his voice laced with concern. “I tried calling you and texting you, you always come back home by late afternoon,”

You step out of the car and Rafe shuts the door, a hand quickly landing at the small of your back as you both walk to the porch of your house. He can see you’re really tired; droopy eyes, heavy steps, deep sighs; he knows something happened.

“Yeah my phone died,” you mutter as you unlock the main door of your house, both of you stepping inside. “I just… today was kind of a heavy day, nothing much honestly,” you shrug as you toss your keys in the dish and remove your coat and shoes.

“What happened?” Rafe asks, still really concerned for you as he watches you take off your cost and hang it on the coat rack. As you’re done, you face him with a small smile on your face.

“Nothing much, really,” you say softly, gently cupping his cheek with a hand and tenderly caressing his skin. “Don’t worry, yeah?” You mumble, taking your hand off his cheek as you make your way to the kitchen.

Rafe stays on your heels, following you and monitoring every single move of yours – your padding till the fridge, opening it, getting a bottle of water, unscrewing it and drinking from it.

“You look so exhausted, I can see it in your eyes,” he comments. “Your hair is all messy, your clothes are dirty; it’s clearly not nothing. Come on, tell me, what happened,”

His voice is stern, but not in an angry way; but in an apprehensive way. He moves his hand to your face, gently brushing your hair as he fixes some of the unruly strands.

As you finish drinking your water; drinking almost all of it in one go, you keep your bottle aside and let out a sigh, turning to look at him. “It was just one of those… heavy days, but it’s over now yeah? I’m now home,” you say softly.

“But just tell me what happened,” Rafe’s voice now drops to a whisper as he moves closer to you, continuing to weave his fingers through your hair.

You close your eyes for a moment, delving into the relaxing feeling of Rafe’s fingers softly combing through your hair, but also realizing he’s going to keep pressing for you to tell him what happened.

“The kids were a bit uncooperative today,” you say with a soft chuckle. “And then we have this event coming up at school, so I was busy for my entire lunch break preparing for it. And then my car had a flat tire and I didn’t have a spare so I had to get a mechanic, which took most of the time. But besides that, nothing much happened,” you say with a small shrug.

“Besides all that?” Rafe mutters incredulously. “That’s already a lot, baby, why didn’t you call me when you found out about your flat tire? I would’ve come; or sent someone to get you, we would’ve had lunch in my office, and I would have had someone take care of the tire and bring your car back too.” There’s a small frown on his face and he now holds your face in both his hands, gently skimming your cheeks with his thumbs.

You look up in his soft, baby blue eyes. “I did think of calling you but-”

“But?”

“But I thought…” you take a deep breath, your eye contact with him faltering. “you’ll be busy, and I didn’t want to be a burden to you, really, I was able to get it all fixed just fine,”

You can hear Rafe tsk; his tongue clicking against his teeth as he softly shakes his head. “I’m never busy for you okay? My work does not ever get more importance than you, okay? It never does, and it never will, especially when you’re in trouble and need help,”

He gently grips your chin and tips your head back just a bit, making you look at him. His eyes are softened, the blue even more warmer than usual.

“I know you prefer to do things on your own,” he whispers, “but you have to realise that you really don’t need to do each thing on your own, especially now that I’m around. I won’t mind, really, and besides, I would love to show everyone off at work that I am the boyfriend of the most beautiful person on this damn planet yeah?”

You can’t help but chuckle softly at his words as you keep looking in his eyes.

“So, promise me, next time you need any sorts of help, want me to do something for you, or just want me to be there, you don’t think twice about calling me up okay?” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He can see the reluctancy in your eyes, but you eventually give in and nod.

“Okay, promise,” you murmur, smiling as you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He gladly hugs you back, snuggling his face in your neck as he gently rubs your back.

“So…” you speak up, and he hums back in response, both of you still hugging.

“I’ll take up on that offer right now. I’ll go and shower, and you make something for me to eat yeah?”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @shores-kayla @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom @b1mb0slvt

rafes friends teaching reader how to not be a pillow princess and make rafe feel good

i got it as bsf!rafe but if that’s wrong please let me know! maybe you meant kelce and topper? if yes lmk and i’ll write another one!

bsf!rafe teaching you how to take charge . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

warnings: use of alcohol, unprotected p in v, use of y/n (once), breeding, not proof read

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you were so excited when you ringed on your best friend’s doorbell after he invited you over to celebrate your 18th birthday. little did you know you two would end up drunk at the balcony of tannyhill after drinking wine for 2 hours straight.

and after one more bottle of wine, you find yourself clinging onto rafe, you don’t even know how or when the conversation turned so downhill.

“oh don’t tell me that your favorite position is missonary,” rafe chuckles and shakes his head, sipping on his glass.

“what? it’s nice.” you frown, hugging his arm as you lean into him, mind hazy from the wine.

“it’s nice for you ‘cause you don’t have to do anything. poor man’s doing all the work.” rafe states and looks down at you, smirking at the sight of you so touchy with him.

“i could take charge! i just prefer it this way.” you try to defend yourself, but deeo down you know you’re the prototype of ‘pillow princess’.

rafe scoffs. “of course you could.” he smirks, not believing you.

you frown, knowing he’s looking right through you. you whine and pull away from him.

“hey, look at me,” rafe slurs, gently taking your chin and turning your head back towards him. “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, just admit that you’re a pillow princess.”

you just want to slap that stupid grin off his face. he’s just so..

“come on, you know you are,” *he teases as he rubs his thumb over your cheek bone. “just admit it.”

if you were drunk, you would probably pull away with blood rushing into your cheeks. but now, with the wine in your system, you’re just looking into his eyes with the prettiest doe eyes he has ever seen.

“fine, i am a pillow princess. but just because i’ve never..” you stop yourself. you don’t want to admit that. you know that your sex life is boring, but saying it out loud..

“you’ve never tried anything else?” rafe guesses, running his thumb over your plump lips.

“no..” you say quietly, looking away from him. but he takes your chin and makes you look at him again, and you feel yourself getting lost in those pretty eyes.

“i could teach you, y’know..” he says and rubs the tip of his nose against yours. your heart skips a beat, you breath catches in your throat.

“what??” you whisper. he chuckles, cupping your cheek.

“you heard me.” he whispers and leans in. you feel his lips touch yours, it’s just a small brush, small peck, but it’s enough for you to want to do unholy things with him, to want more.

and that’s how you end up in his bed. you don’t even know when you got from the balcony back inside, and you don’t even care.

he’s got you sat on his lap, kissing you slowly, breathing in your mouth as you run your hands through his hair.

his hand is in on your throat, not too tight to actually hurt you. his other hand was in your hair just a few seconds ago, but now it’s snaking down your spine until it reaches the zip of your sundress.

you hear the unzipping sound and suddenly you’re naked, your dress on the floor. you immediately cover your breasts, but he smiles and takes your hands, away from your tits.

“please don’t..” he whispers and leans down, placing wet kisses all over your neck, then collar bone, and finally on the most beautiful tits rafe has ever seen.

“so pretty..” he mutters against your skin and you can’t help but let out a tiny moan as you tug on his shirt. you get off of him for a second so he can take off his pants.

as soon as he’s naked too, the biggest cock you’ve ever seen reveals right in front of you. rafe chuckled when he sees your expression. “don’t worry, princess. i’ll make sure it fits.”

he fingers you for a while, making yure you cum on his long digits while placing wet kisses all over your neck and tits. you shamelessly ride his hand, squeezing his shoulders as you let out tiny moans.

“you’re ready.” rafe states, withdrawing his fingers from your pussy and putting them in your mouth. you suck and lick on them, tasting yourself while looking into his eyes.

you straddle his lap and take a deep breath. “okay princess, i’ll line up with you and you’ll slowly sink down, okay?” rafe instructs and you nod.

he lines up with you, like he said, and you look into his eyes. you slowly sink down on him, mouth opening as you feel him stretching you out.

“rafe—“ you whimper, sitting like this for a while, unable to move.

“fuck, princess. you’re so fucking tight.” he grunts, cupping your cheek. “now move.”

with tiny moans you slowly start moving up and down, looking into his eyes for reassurance. his hand wraps around your throat in frustration, a groan leaving his lips. “just like that, princess. nice and slow, you’re doing so good f’me.”

after a while you start to get more sure with your movement and increase the pace. desperate moans are leaving your mouth as you bounce on his cock, tits bouncing in sync with your movements as his hand tightens around your throat.

“fuck, princess..” rafe lets out a low groan, catching your lips in a fierce kiss. “doin’ so fucking good f’me..” he moans between kisses.

you start to get tired, your thighs are burning and your movements get sloppy. rafe feels that and decides to take charge. his hand leaves your throat and lands on your hip, holding himself for support with the other. he thrusts up into you, earning a loud moan from you.

“rafe.. i’m gonna..” you can’t even form a proper sentence as he thrusts up into you roughly, the knot in your belly threating to explode.

“yeah.. cum f’me princess..” he grunts, thrusting harder, making his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust.

“yes.. ah— ah.. rafe!” you moan out, pussy clenching around his cock, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you cum.

“fuck, princess.. want it inside?” he asks, his breathing harder as his thrusts get sloppy and you feel his cock twitching in your pussy.

“yes.. yes, rafe.. please..” you kiss his neck, moans leaving your mouth as you ride out your high.

“fuck.. oh— oh god—“ he grunts and with one last thrust, he exploded inside you, shooting loads of hot cum inside you.

small whimpers are leaving your mouth as you feel it, face in the crook of his neck as you’re being filled up by your best friend.

“jesus christ, y/n..” rafe whispers, still panting and still inside you as he runs his hand through your hair, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. “you did so good.”

“all thanks to you, rafe.” you whisper back, a smile on your lips as you brush his curtain bangs out of his face.

“yeah.. my good fucking girl.. can’t let anyone else have you now, can i?”

https://soundgasm.net/u/LateNightFeels_/Getting-Fucked-By-Your-Boyfriend-While-He-Games-With-His-Friends

this reminded me of your gamer rafe fic

nsfw audio // game over fic

PAUSEEEEEEE !!!!!!!!!!! oh my fucking god?????? anon first of all thank you for reading my fic eeek and thank you for sending me this!!!!!!!! im literally twirling my hair and kicking my feet while listening to that audio omfg where did you find it i need to know

“look, i’ll still move my character with my left hand, so they think i’m still doing something, and with my right… i can put it in between your legs.” good fucking bye

UPDATE: HDSHDJD HE WASNT MUTED THIS ENTIRE TIME ????

another update: im done and oh my god anon what have you done to me i am sweating djsjdjdj also this is exactly my fic omg !!!!!! thank u for sending this to me ily