Mika's Faves - Tumblr Posts

Okay now you’ve got me going, princess, that was so everything, i’m feeling a little unhinged now, but i promise i’m not actually crazy. I can see him killing for her, like actually killing a persons. and she’s the the bonnie to his clyde. He takes her into his arms when she find out and she’s all distressed, and tells her how he did it for you, & how he had to protect her, how he’ll always protect her no matter what it takes, how nothing in the world is as important to him as she is, and he would do it again if it meant she could be happy. Kissing her tear stained face and whispering “We’re gonna get of this fucking island, baby, just you and me.“ promising hes going to give her the life she deserves - 🍄

♡꒰ა 🎀 ໒꒱♡

oh 1000% . because his ass always takes it too far !!!! he didn’t mean to kill them, at first anyway — but they mouthed off about you! told him if he didn’t follow through with a deal, they’d come after you! n he just can’t have that. take everything from him, sure — but they can’t ever come after you or it’s guaranteed they’re losing their life.

thinking about catching rafe in his room with messy hair n blood soaking his shirt !! the red is all on his hands and flicked in specks on his handsome face too !! he didn’t know you were home, and when you approach him with wide glassy eyes n a trembling lip he really doesn’t mean to smear blood on your cheeks when he cups them to comfort you!!!! it just happens oops :(

“baby— baby i know, i know okay? but — but i did what i had to do. okay? handled business. this shit is not simple, okay— and — and i don’t expect you to understand that baby but i need you to know that this is all for you. yeah? all of it. not gonna let anyone hurt you. not now not fuckin’ ever. yeah?” he’s just rambling at u and you’re tryna keep up !!

“h—hurt me? did someone wanna hurt me, rafe?” and you just look so precious n innocent it further cements the idea that he really did do the right thing to protect you! he licks his lips, shifting on his feet as he strokes your cheeks firmly.

“they…they weren’t gonna do shit, baby but i— i couldn’t take that risk. a’ight? had to make sure nothing came back to you. ‘cos it’s me n’you. right? nothings gonna take you from me.”

before you know it he’s pulling off you to shower off the blood n telling you to pack a bag… the two of you are going on a “nice little vacation” for a little while :((

♡꒰ა 🎀 ໒꒱♡

can't remember anything before you - rafe cameron.

request: "can you write something for rafe, where he's had a crush on topper's older sister for ages and he finally does something about it? it can be fluffy and smutty, honestly I'm just here for the plot."

pairing: rafe cameron x thornton!reader; brother's best friend! trope or best friend's sister! trope lmao; fem!reader.

word count: wrote 11 word pages i apologize;

WARNINGS: p in v; fingering; handjob; smut with feelings; smut with plot; a lot of cursing; rafe being a lover boy; mentions of slow burn like the slowest burn of his life but it pays off; mentions of voyeurism; p in v out in public??; wrote the word moan a thousand times.

you drive him insane. 

what the hell are you doing prancing around the house in the tiniest red bikini known to mankind? 

rafe's not a creep, okay? earlier, he tried to redirect his attention, focus on anything else – the tv, the background music, even the patterns on the wallpaper – but his gaze involuntarily gravitated back to you. it's as if the universe conspires against him, pushing him to the edge of his self-control.

it wasn't just the stupid bikini; it's the way you carry yourself. 

it's not fair. 

it's why he secluded himself from the party an hour ago, slipping away unsuspectedly to the little private lounge you kept inyourfavorite area to sunbathe. he sank into a reclining chair, running his hands through his buzzed hair in frustration. 

closing his eyes for the millionth time that evening, rafe tries to summon the strength to think about you in anything except the slutty number you're wearing— and it still doesn't help. in the distance, laughter from the party echoes, a stark reminder of the festivities he chose to distance himself from. 

then, the hidden door creaks open, and without looking, he knows it's you. 

it's your spot after all. maybe this was a terrible idea.

the subtle scent of your sunscreen wafts through the air, and the sound of footsteps approaches. rafe's heart quickens, torn between the desire to get the fuck away from you and your scent that urges him to stay. he keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, clinging to the darkness as if it can shield him from you.

completely fucked. he's so fucked. 

you settle into a nearby chair, and the silence between you is almost comforting. almost. because that sleazy bikini of yours is still very much imprinted into his brain. rafe finally musters the courage to open his eyes, only to meet yours the second he does. 

it takes an unbelievable amount of willpower to fight the groan in his throat when he realizes your arms are crossed and doing absolutely nothing to hide your tits. the world seems to narrow down to the glistening droplets of water on your skin, the curve of your body. his gaze trails down and he almost folds on the spot.

oh, for fuck's sake.

the reclining chair suddenly feels like a throne of thorns. he should've gone home. ogling you is nothing new in his book, it's what he does best, but now that you've spent the entire summer together...having you all to himself after years of barely catching a glimpse of you during the holidays or summer breaks in the outer banks, rafe knows that it's not just a stupid crush on his best friend's older sister.

it's not just a fleeting desire, it's something that has been brewing inside him for years, and the eye of its right here. 

"you, okay?"

rafe almost jumps out of his skin, as your voice breaks the silence. he hesitates, finding it difficult to find the right words when you're looking at him with your pretty eyes. 

he clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure, "yeah, yeah. i'm...i'm good." rafe replies, his voice rougher than he intends.

your pouty lip’s part, perhaps ready to probe further, but he can't let you mess with his head.

"just needed a breather from the party, y'know?" he adds, hoping the casual tone will deflect you from analyzing him like one of your books. you're the only one who always saw through the layers he wrapped around himself. 

too fucking smart for you own good. 

you tilt your head slightly, exposing your pretty neck, "were my cocktails that bad?"

there's an underlying teasing undertone, and he can't help but let out a small, rueful chuckle, "nah, don't think they could be bad even if you tried, peach." he replies, a sheepish grin playing on his lips.

your heart races at the sight of him. he’s gorgeous. no one should be allowed to look this good, especially with a shaved head and a three-day stubble. you'd like to blame the drinks for luring your nasty thoughts out, but you know this, is entirely on you.

weird, right? 

this was rafe cameron. the little rafe cameron who grew up down the street from you, the insufferable kid your brother brought along to every single-family vacation and had the biggest crush on you when you were seventeen. the metamorphosis from the boy to the captivating man seated before you makes you head hurt.

he's a man now, the prettiest you've ever seen, and it only took him one summer to have you under his palm. 

his phone looks so small in his large hands, your gaze follows the veins lining the back of them as his fingers nimbly play with the screen.

"am i boring you?" you ask, leaning your head back into the chair, his perfume, replica jazz club you assume, wafts over you and it takes everything in you not to drop your face into his buff chest and just inhale him, "you haven't spoken a word to me all day."

there's a slight buzz from the alcohol in your veins that allows you to ask the questions you'd never ask if you were sober. 

rafe runs his hand across his jaw, analyzing you slowly. "'course i have."

you scoff, feigning nonchalance. "no, you haven't. it's like you're avoiding me."

rafe's heart skips a beat. "avoiding you? m'not avoiding you."

you raise a perfect eyebrow, challenging him, "really?"

rafe shifts uncomfortably in the chair, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the tempting curves that the tiny red bikini accentuates. 

"is it because raven is here?"

his eyes are busy tracing the lines of your features with an unwavering dedication. he's never been the best at multitasking when in your presence. he sees your lips moving but can't wrap his head around what you asked.

when he catches your eye again, there's a subtle blush gracing your cheeks, but you don't look away, "who?"

"raven. your ex? the girl you were fucking on spring break?"

rafe's eyes widen comically, surprise and discomfort settling on his face. he shifts in his chair again, as you've catch him off guard. how the fuck did he forget you knew about raven? 

"oh, uh, raven. yeah—I mean no! no, no, it's not about her. we're not a thing anymore," he stammers out, fingers scratching his stubble, "that was a spring break thing."

you sit up straighter, the tequila and curiosity-fueling your boldness, "a spring break thing, huh?"

you pray to god he can't pinpoint the jealousy coating your words. 

his jaw slightly slackens, forming an unintentional expression of awe as you move your legs, once again momentarily losing the ability to form coherent thoughts. beads of sweat form on his forehead as he struggles to maintain composure. 

the heat is not helping his situation at all. 

when the silence becomes a little too overbearing for you, you can't shake the growing unease that you might be unintentionally bothering rafe's peace. your words flowed, but you notice a subtle glaze over his blue eyes, a distant look that hints at his mind wandering elsewhere. 

is he thinking about raven?

you adjust your posture, nervously fiddling with the bracelet on your arm, a subtle sign of your growing discomfort, "do you want me to leave?"

rafe's eyes snap back to you, the fleeting moment of distraction replaced by a sudden intensity. he blinks a few times, as if trying to shake off the mental fog that had settled, "'course not," there's a hint of urgency in his voice. he doesn't want you to leave, and that realization tightens the knots in his stomach, "always want your company."

this is unbearable. you've gotten him on a tight leash, and you don't even know.

his tone makes your lips twitch, and you press them together to keep from smiling, "aww, look at you being nice to me, it's like you're sixteen all over again."

an involuntary groan escapes his throat, the sound automatically making you clench your thighs. 

"you remember that?"

"course i do, you're the only guy who's ever gifted me flowers."

that's because you've only dated douchebags, it's what he wants to tell you, but he doesn't because it's none of his business. 

"how much have you had to drink?"

you smirk, "a little. how much have you had to drink?"

he trails his eyes up you higher, gliding up your tummy, over your tits, right up to your throat, "a little."

a subtle awareness tingles at the back of your senses and that's when it hits you. 

rafe is staring at you. 

he's not shy about it; his eyes trail over you, leaving a tangible heat in their wake, practically eating you alive and you have to take another look to confirm you're not being a delusional bitch. so maybe... you did wear this bikini hoping he would finally do something, that he'd finally understand that you want him. 

you've spent the entire summer teasing him. seeing if you could get a rise, hit the right button. 

you quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips, "bikini's nice, isn't it?"

he clears his throat, a subtle rasp betraying the restraint he's trying to maintain. 

"yeah, it's...it's something," he replies, the words slightly breathless. he crosses his arms across his chest, biceps big enough to make you want to climb him like a tree. 

you lean forward propping yourself on one of your elbows, making sure he gets a fantastic view of your cleavage, "you know, rafe, you've been pretty quiet."

his lips, naturally inviting, become the focal point as he bites down on the lower one, "just...taking in the view, i guess." he mumbles, his gaze momentarily darting away before locking onto you again.

rafe feels like he's fourteen again, unable to hold a conversation with a pretty girl like you. except he's twenty-two and he should know better. you're going to give him a stroke. 

"the view, huh?” your eyes widen in mock-surprise, “and do you like what you see?" you ask.

he swallows hard. uh-oh, is he really about to do this? 

"you know i do." he admits, the admission laced with a raw honesty that takes you by surprise.

got him right where you want him.

you decide to push the boundaries a bit further, your voice dropping to a sultry tone, fingers playfully tracing the edge of the bikini strap.

"wasn't sure about the red, but it's your favorite color."

his head whips back around and he swears he hears a crack. if he wasn't fully hard before, he is now. 

you both know you meant what you said, not just a heat-of-the-moment confession. his gaze is fixed on you and his eyebrows are pushed together in a painful expression and he just keeps shaking his head.

he opens his mouth, takes a slow, shuddering breath that you feel through every inch of your body and leans forward, hands gripping the arms of the chair for dear life, "peach."

there's an underlying warning in his voice, begging you to take a step back and rethink this entire thing, but quite frankly, you're tired of thinking. as matter of fact, you're done making excuses not to fuck rafe.

he exhales a shaky breath, "you're playing with fire, y'know that?" his voice is low, it only spurs the warning and longing lingering inside you.

you're both breathless and you haven't even touched each other.

it's time you deliver the final nail to the coffin.

"you're gonna do something about it or do i have to find someone else?"

the realization eventually sinks in: you want him. you want him as desperately as he wants you. you've pushed him to the edge, and there's no turning back now.

his hands are on you before you can blink again, roaming fingers locking around your wrist to pull you towards him, knocking his phone to the ground in the process, but he doesn't care, everything's background noise when you stumble into his lap, pretty legs dangling to the sides. his hands wrap around your torso, pulling you closer, chest to chest, fingers digging into your hips like he's trying to convince himself you're not an illusion. 

the world narrows down to the heat of his touch, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your skin. you feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring your own anticipation. rafe's eyes, lock onto yours, a silent agreement passing between you.

"y'sure about this?" he whispers, voice a low growl, but the vulnerability in his eyes makes you want to kiss him stupid. his hands, which had been restless before, find a purpose as his fingertips brush the skin of your face lightly, caressing your chin between his thumb and forefinger before his eyes sweep up to meet your own.

"please." the words come out like a plea.

“please, what?" he asks, so smug you almost punch him, "gotta tell me what you want, hm?"

“kiss me.”

and then his lips are on yours. it's more than just kissing; it's a fusion of desires, an electric current that drags you under. rafe's touch is confident, yet tender, as if he is unraveling a secret, delicate treasure. your senses heighten, catching the subtle nuances of his warm breath mingling with yours.

rafe's kiss is a slow burn, a deliberate exploration that leaves trails of heat in its wake. there's an artistry to the way he traces the contours of your lips, teasing and coaxing, building a crescendo of anticipation, rendering you breathless.

the lounge chair becomes a battleground of hands and lips, a frenzied exchange of desires unleashed, an intensity that borders on desperate, as if trying to capture and savor every moment. your fingers trace along his arms, and his hands explore every inch of your body, as if mapping out the territory he's yearned for.

his lips leave a trail of fire along your jawline, down to your collarbone, and you suppress a cry, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. the summer nighttime air feels heavy, thick with the scent of sunscreen and the heady aroma of desire.

rafe breaks the kiss for a moment, his breath hot against your skin. 

you’re both panting, breathing so hard that your heaving chests touch with every breath.

"been driving me insane all summer, y'know that?" he admits, a husky edge to his voice, throat bobbing, "so fucking insane." he whispers into your neck.

he can't even think straight with your ass firmly pressed against him.

you attempt to keep an even voice, but nonchalance escapes you for the time being. "that was the plan all along."

rafe chuckles, a low, throaty sound that resonates through you, feeling the warmth of his breath against your ear, "god, gonna be the death of me."

there’s no time to reply because he leans his head and catches your lips faster this time. 

he tilts your head down, applying a little bit of pressure to your mouth. your lips part again, and so do his. he swallows your moan into his mouth, and eases his tongue into you, urgently exploring every crevice of your mouth, hand slipping from your cheek and resting at the column of your neck, fingers kneading the back of it.

you press your body further into his and you can feel every inch of him vibrating, his entire body pulsing with need. his skin feels so hot against yours, he’s unbearably hard and you’re positively dying to get your hands on every single inch of his skin.

your nails scrape against his scalp and you squeak in shock as rafe’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against you. the unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful and it’s all you want to hear for the rest of your life. you can’t stop the urge building up inside you, you’re not even certain you can stop moving your hips even if you wanted to.

his hands dig into the plush of your thighs and he restrains himself, you deserve better than to get fucked out here. he watches closely, hypnotized by the way you begin rubbing yourself onto him, the outline of his cock grazing back and forth between your covered folds.

“baby, we can—can’t, jesu—not here.”

the new pet name makes you feral for him.

you trace a finger up the column of his throat, sending a shiver down his spine, you don’t stop moving your hips, watching his eyes flutter every time you rub just the right way.

“why not?”

rafe groans, head falling back to the chair, “here?”

it’s almost funny how he’s willing to bend over every decision he’s ever made in his life, just for you. he’s letting you dry hump him right here, when your brother, his best friend and god knows who can walk in at any given moment. 

you nod pathetically, brain turned into mush, “can’t wait any longer.”

“stop saying shit like that.” he warns you through gritted teeth, “fuck.”

the needy sound that rips through your chest when his hands leave your thighs echoes in his mind.

“peach”, he begins, roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezing the flesh just below the swell of your rear, “y’have a problem with control."

both your lips are swollen pink and ridden with spit.

“like you’re any better.”

you’re such a brat. 

rafe grabs your chin and tilts your head, so you have to look into his pretty eyes, “let’s not make any noise, yeah?” his lips create a path up your throat, hands on your ass, kneading and pushing so he can grind you all over his growing bulge.

you whimper, rocking harder on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. you just want him to touch you. his hips roll slowly, rubbing his hard-on lazily and mindlessly. he can't help but send a rough smack on your ass, smirking at your surprised yelp.

“just touch me,” you grip his shoulder harder, holding on for dear life as his hands trail back, the bits of his nails scraping along your naked thighs. 

they catch the waistband of your bikini bottoms. he traces your clit over the fabric feeling the warm, wet patch you’re leaving in them and then he teasingly slips a finger underneath, swiping two fingers along your slit, thumb, and index finger opening your pussy to his gaze. 

this time he swallows hard, seeing your pussy pink and glistening for him. 

“’m touching you, peach,” his touch, and scent, cloud your vision, the soft sounds of his labored breath singing in your ears as he leans down to press wet-mouthed kisses to your neck, “m touching you.”

”more,” you whine, lips barely parted, drawing out another salacious moan from him. “fuck.”

“like this?” he whispers against your lips, words hoarse and murmured, watching your eyes soften and brows twist, features becoming pliant under his enamored gaze, “you’re so fucking wet.” he tsk under his breath, shaking his head in the typical rafe cameron condescending way.

he presses a finger inside of you, slowly stretching out your tight hole. you groan, and his eyes roll back at the way your walls stretch around him. so fucking tight. you rock harder against him, fucking yourself into his finger and wrapping your arms around his neck again. you just want to feel him against you.

his half-lidded eyes look up at you as you contort on top of him, feeling overstimulated, with a single finger. he coos, his other hand sweeping over the back of your head sweetly, pushing back stray sweaty hairs. he nudges your nose with his, hand on the back of your neck, and tries to meet your eye. the squelch as his finger fucks into you, fast and deep, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

“rafe—“ you hand grips his wrist as your eyes roll back when his fingers find that spot.

“t’s good?”

“so good,” you whine loudly, he’s cocky tone only adding to his allure. 

you can feel the stretch it takes just to take his finger, rutting into you, curling perfectly.  

he thinks it might be the sweetest thing he’s ever witnessed – your voice when you’re being fucked. you’re gushing around his digits, hands now clutching his shoulders. it’s like you can’t stop moving them, needing to feel every ridge of his body. 

rafe adds another finger, pressing the tips of his middle and ring finger against that soft, spongy part deep inside and grins when you cry out his name.

“fuck,” you cry out against his skin dragging your lips up his throat, over his jaw, before finding purchase at his lips in a kiss that devours all air in your lungs. your fingers curl around the band of his bathing shorts, enjoying the slight whine that slips past his lips.

“let me touch you,” you plead, words muffled by the way your tongue can’t seem to leave his skin alone, teeth grazing along where his neck and shoulder meet. you nip at the area, before daring to swipe your tongue along his neck, sucking the tender flesh with your teeth. 

holy fuck, are you marking him?

“oh god."

a third finger, your hips now rutting against him.

“hickeys, baby? that territorial, huh?” his hand slows for a moment, twisting so he can thumb at your clit before he continues, both motions in tandem. you cry out, eyes screwed close, hips shoving forward, “you look so pretty like this," rafe whispers against your skin, his full-blown pupils looking up at you through his long lashes.

“i want more”

“every little sound you make goes straight down to my cock,” he’s rubbing his cock so perfectly against your clit again, only making you whine more desperately for him. he places a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, just so he can see you blindly chase after his lips. 

and then, you feel empty. 

he lets his fingers slide all the way out and his throat tightens at the feel of you bearing down, trying to hold on to him as he withdraws completely. he ignores your protests and drags his thick fingers across your wet folds. when he feels satisfied with the coat around his fingers, he moves them toward your face, letting them trail over your lips.

“gon’ open up f’me?”

you gasp, but obey immediately, tongue darting out to lick your slick off his fingers. rafe doesn’t hold back his groan, watching your tongue swirling around his digits. he throws whatever concerns he had over your noises out the window.

he’s too lost in your body to care if someone finds you two or not. 

as a matter of fact, let them see. god knows he’s dying to show those bastards you belong to him anyway. he wants you all to himself, wants the whole world to know you’re his.

“so, so, so good,” he praises, closing the gap, lips molding right into yours again. his hands find home in your throat, adding just right the amount of pressure to make you sigh against his lips.

rafe smirks, brushing a finger along your skin, should’ve guessed his pretty peach had kink for praises. your tummy is in a knot because he’s running his hands along your body, and you just need to have him.

you clumsily slip his shorts and boxers down, just enough to touch him, and he raises his hips automatically helping you slide them down, his cock springing out of his confines to lightly hit against his abdomen.

you break the kiss, needing to look at him. 

and you’re so glad you do, because rafe has the most perfect dick you’ve ever seen. you catch yourself staring at him, devouring every part of his body with your eyes.

he feels his heartbeat faster, face flush when your eyes are back on his face as you softly wrap one of you manicured hands around him, just slightly, slow pumps. but it’s more than enough to make him drop his head back, adam’s apple bobbing, brows pitched together.

“good?” you ask him, keeping the pace so you can feel him throb in your hand.

“everything’s good when it’s you peach,” he grunts out, and the way his abs seem to recoil makes your tongue slide across your bottom lip, “fucking perfect.”

your thumb smears precum across his tip, bending forward to ghost your lips over his, “need you inside me.”

the way rafe’s jaw drops open in a silent moan when you tighten your hold around him is beautiful, searing itself in the back of your mind. 

settling on his lower lip, you draw it into your mouth, sucking softly, moving your hips even closer. he runs his hands along your sides, one stopping just below your breasts—the other one flicking your nipple with his thumb.

you keep your eyes open, needing to memorize every single moment. his breath comes down on your lips in heavy pants, fingers teasing your skin, hums of pleasure circling both of you. 

“want me inside you?” his voice sounds so husky it makes you want to cry, “want me to fil you up?”

your hand leaves his cock, pulling him to you by his shoulders, and he braces himself with one hand on your waist, another on the chair.

he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, “that bad?”

“don’t tease me,” you struggle to produce words, hands winding through his chest, “waited long enough.”

rafe holds his cock by the base, running it up and down your pussy, “not longer than i have.”

you sink down onto him, biting your lip at the slow pressure, the pleasant stretch that pulls at your middle. you can feel tears brimming your eyes from pure relif and he feels like every single fiber of his being is scorching. 

he can feel just how deep he his, his fingers clutching at the flesh of your hips like his life depends on it, “fuck. that’s it, baby.”

your hands are placed firmly on his stomach, and one of his glides up right up to your throat, pulling you down to his chest. all you can properly let out of your mouth are pleas and whimpers. the stretch is on the edge of painful, but he fits so perfectly inside of you. you huff a short breath when he’s all the way in.

“you okay?” he asks against your ear, softly biting the lobe.

your answer is a desperate roll of your hips, “perfect.”

you begin to move your hips up and down, as the stretch gives way to something delirious, and rafe takes mercy on you, beginning to thrust back up into you, his rhythm building up until your mouth falls open again into a pretty moan, until sweat shines on the high points of his perfectly sculpted face. every time your skin touches his it’s fucking scorching, and the stretch is agonizing, and the heavy air is suffocating but then he’s bottoming out and you feel your brain go fuzzy. 

you’re wrapped around him so tight it makes his moves sloppy, almost mindless but so deep it knocks the air out of your lungs.

“waited so long for you,” one hand on the curve of your hip, the other along your jaw, lips hungrily working over yours, swallowing your gentle whimpers, your soft, sweet pleas vibrating against his tongue, “have no idea what you do to me.”

his confession only makes you drag yourself harder against him, clit brushing against his pubic bone, “rafe!”

“that’s it,” he coos, tone gentle, the friction too overwhelming, “so beautiful.”

the strain in his voice makes you want to stay like this forever.

you tighten around him further, letting your nails rake down his chest. rafe grunts, thrusting harder, shifting you closer to him as humanly possible. you feel his stomach and thighs clench, and his hips sputter, “you’re so deep.”

he presses his hand against your stomach, feeling the bulge, “might fuck a baby into you,” he rasps, thumb catching against your clit, “let them know you’re mine.”

“yours,” he’s trailing kisses along your collarbone until he reaches your tits, leaving a line of soft, wet suckles behind, “only yours.” 

the way he’s stroking you unrushed is absolutely toe-curling, guiding you over his cock with very little maneuvering, gently pushing your hips down onto him.

“gonna keep you here, stuffed, for hours baby.”

you can hear it reverberating through the night air. 

the slap of skin, the grunts. the sound of the chair creaking as he fucks you into it. each delicious slip, every time you feel his veiny shaft twitching for attention against your walls. you’re so lightheaded you might pass out.

rafe feels his balls tighten. you are creaming so fast, squeezing the hell out of his cock. he’s making sure to put your pleasure before his, hitting all the right spots.

“rafe, baby—" his name being moaned out by you is urging him to bust inside you, his eyes narrowing slightly as his grip on your hips tightens, “oh—im gon—fuckk.”

he only pushes you faster up and down his dick as your walls grip around him, a mix of your cream and his pre-cum coating his length. his eyes focus on your face, basking in the pretty expressions you make.

“it’s too much.” you whine, feeling your orgasm about to reach itself. rafe’s eyes glimmer at your words, tracing a thumb against your lips before sneaking a kiss onto your mouth.

“you can take it,” his muscles flex from the constant friction. you’re so full, all you can think about is rafe spilling inside of you, “c’mon.”

his cock thrusts even deeper, a sharp hiss leaving his lips at the way your pussy tightens. his calloused thumb wipes away a stray tear. he loves the sting of your nails practically sinking into his skin. he tangles his hand in your hair, forcing your neck to arch up as he leans in, biting hard enough to leave a mark.

“im—m—gonn—” you feel him right at your womb again and again, any semblance of sanity melted away the moment he set his hands on you, “holy fuck.”

“i know baby, keep your eyes on me,” you with your perfect tits bouncing with each roll and grind of your hips is enough to make a grown man cry, “eyes on me.”

you lean back, supporting yourself with your hands on his thighs, circling your hips and doing your best not to close your eyes. the burning inside you is so strong, it’s taking you everything not to close them.

his hands slide around your back when he sits up suddenly, and you gasp, “oh my god.”

the pace has both of you panting, his balls slapping your ass every single time. a shiver runs down your spine and you throw your head back and almost scream out his name. 

he chuckles breathlessly, “never getting tired of that sound.”

you can feel yourself starting to reach the edge of your climax, grinding harder and harder into him and gasping with each spark of pleasure it gives your throbbing clit. each time he hits your g-spot just right, you feel more and more slick dribbling out of you and down your thighs. 

“so fucking pretty,” he groans, punctuating each word with a deep thrust and you feel that tight coil in your belly snapping.

“fuck—rafe,” You pant heavily, breathy whines falling from your lips, legs starting to give out. “oh mhmf—don’t stop!”

your thighs are shaking and seizing as it finally its you, at full force. you squirm in his hold, feeling an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure wash over your body. the feeling’s so intense it’s almost painful. rafe’s arms hold you tight, keeping you grounded while you shudder in his grasp, his fingers determined to prolong your ecstasy.

his piercing blue eyes stay trained on yours the entire time, “knew you could do it.”

he doesn’t let up his pace, pressing chaste kisses to your lips to soothe you. 

“wonder how many of those i can get out of you.”

long night ahead of you. 

______________________________________________________________

might have some grammar mistakes, frankly im not sure at this point lmao, it's late. english's not my first language, it's my third i think. will edit later bc i spent hours writing this and my old ass needs to sleep, thank you for reading <3 by the time im posting this, over 200 of you voted they wanted smut so y'all won, tried best to deliver the goods. also rafe's not mentally unstable in this one, in case that wasn't obvious, he's just a little too in love and cute.

let me know if you enjoy it and if i should start taking requests more frequently!

ps: that picture is how i imagined rafe throughout this whole thing

alrighty imagine rafe feeling jealous for the first time in his life and absolutely not knowing how to navigate through it, so he just takes it out on you 🤗 he's down bad so it's funny

just a lil something for y'all:

rafe cameron does not get jealous.

why would he? he has the world at his feet—wealth, status, popularity, and seemingly limitless opportunities. got everything he wants and needs in his perfect kook-life, right? there’s absolutely nothing that could make him envious of others. he’s been moving through life with a sense of entitlement, accustomed to getting what he wants when he wants it.

that earth-shattering confidence translates into his sexual life. if there was such a thing as mastering the subtle art of not giving a fuck, god, he’d get a nobel prize for that shit. 

rafe likes to indulge in the pleasures of his fantastic mortal life without the burden of attachment of commitment, just thinking about tying himself up to someone else makes him want to drive his jeep into the nearest wall. 

that’s not the life he wants. that kind of bullshit gets people depressed or killed; he’s seen enough of that kind of misery in his lifetime. 

he knows he’s got a reputation by now. it precedes him, and he revels in it. and people say he’s a bad guy? please, he’s doing the entire female community a favor. there’s no point in restricting his independence for one person. 

no feelings involved, no clinging, and no, he’s not fucking cuddling someone after he just blew his load into their back. The women he involves himself with know what they’re getting themselves into when they open their pretty legs for him.

 it’s great. 

no stupid headaches, no fights, no “why didn’t you text me back?”, complete radio silence unless they want something from him or vice versa. sure, there have been a few girls who needed a collective reminder of his rules, which he does by always cutting them off.

no one’s ever made him want to throw his philosophy out the window. can you imagine that happening? rafe cameron…feeling…something other than complete horniness for someone else? enough to make him want to commit capital murder when someone else thinks they’re entitled to touch what’s his?

no, of course not.

that’d be insane. completely impossible. rafe cameron would never get his perfect hands dirty with filth. not in this universe or lifetime. 

or so he thought. 

“you have a real problem, you know that?”

if looks could kill he’d be seven feet under. you’re shooting daggers at him through your pretty eyes, hands settling on your hips. if he wasn’t raging with misplaced anger issues, he’d tell you how fucking beautiful you look tonight.

“me?” rafe grits out as he sticks his fingers into his chest, “you want to talk about problems, sweetheart?” his words drip with venom, a thinly veiled attempt to deflect the intensity of his own emotions.

you don’t back down, though, gaze steady and unwavering as you meet his challenge, “i’m not the one who just punched the living shit out of someone else!”

rafe's lip curl into a mocking smirk. "whose fault is that?” he quips, the barb aimed squarely at your intellect.

a violent urge to strangle him takes hold of you, anger nipping at your skin, “what the hell is wrong with you?”

he doesn’t know why he did it. all he remembers was that in that moment, while watching you entertain someone else, he wanted to snap someone’s neck in half. and he’d be damned if he didn't get what he wanted. 

rafe’s head tilts, oh so slowly, to the side, pretty blue eyes burning your skin, “i’m not the one letting some sleazy bastard get their hands under my slutty dress.”

that didn’t come out right. 

it made much more sense in his head. he doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to acknowledge the gnawing jealousy that threatens to consume him whole.

“slutty dress?! this is vintage versace you possessive lunatic!”

“so fucking what?” he saunters closer, seemingly calm, except that’s the one thing that he never is, “did they run out of fabric in Italy?”

you watch him, a little mesmerized by the way the moonlight accentuates his features, heart pounding. he stops in front of you.

you must’ve taken a good hit to the head if you believe rafe cameron feels anything for you besides some sort of allure to your cunt. you know better than that. you open your mouth to speak, but rafe’s quick to lift one of hands, tapping your lip with his finger.

“this is supposed to be like— a casual thing, right?” he exhales a breath, voice barely louder than a murmur.

you tip your chin up, “what are you getting at?’”

 “no strings. so, i really shouldn't be this fucking pissed about seeing you post a picture with that asshat face, smiling, his arm around you. that stupid fucking caption.”

straightening your posture, you don’t let his sugar-coated confession get to you, remaining silent for the time being. what’s his deal? is the devil spawn...confessing?

“speaking of photos…i just looked at a really cute one of you before, can you guess which one?”

and watch that picture be the one where you're on all fours in his truck's backseat lmao😃👀

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ👙

jj thinking you look the prettiest when your stomach’s all big and swollen with his baby, laying out on the bow of the boat on a towel he’d lay down for you, sunglasses perched on your nose and bikini hugging your body perfectly, specifically showcasing your tits that seemed to be getting bigger every month into your pregnancy, which jj wasn’t complaining about.

he’s at your side whenever you call his name, “everythin’ okay mama?” ,giving you sips of lemonade or water whenever you ask, comin’ over every half an hour or so to make sure you’re all lathered up in sunscreen “gotta make sure my babies aren’t cookin’.” indicating to you and the child you were growing making you giggle and throw an arm over your eyes as he rubs the sunscreen into your plush thighs and up all over your stomach, just bein’ all gentle with you.

big smile on his face cuz he knows he’s gonna love this baby more than he’s loved anyone or anything before (not including you of course!!)

asking rafe for a nutting vid? it's okay if you don't want to write tysm!

u r so real for this request !

☆🫖➛🎀*.☽

rafe was going away for a week, some business trip with his dad that he couldn’t get out of. naturally, you found a week to be a very long time — so the evening before he leaves, he’s at your place to spend some time with you. the time finally comes where he has to leave to go home, and you’re clinging onto him, teary eyed and pouty.

“you can survive a week, kid.” a smirks, squeezing your hips where the two of you stand in the dimly lit hallway infront of your front door, not wanting him to go just yet.

“its a long time… and you’re not a good texter. not even gonna get to talk to you much.” you huff, already finding problems with his plans to go away. he licks his lips, shaking his head as he stares off, cupping the back of your head affectionately as he thinks.

“well what do you want me to do, huh? not like i can back out of it. time will fly, you’ll barely notice i’m gone.” he shrugs, trying to be as reassuring as he can possible muster up. he was learning still, being a boyfriend wasn’t really second nature to him.

“buuuuut…” you look at the ceiling, trying to come up with another reason he should stay, moreso trying to keep the conversation going on for longer to delay him leaving. you stifle a giggle. “i’m going to be left unsatisfied. s’not very nice of you.”

“unfortunately, you are going to have to do some of the work for once n’get yourself off. think you can manage that?” he drawls, keeping his voice low as he holds you closely to him. if he hadn’t fucked you within an inch of your life earlier on to tide over your withdrawals for the week to come — you might’ve tried to initiate something right there and then to convince him.

“will you call and help me?” you bat your lashes, putty in his arms.

“gonna be with my dad 24/7. don’t think he’d… appreciate that.” he blinks and you slump. after a silence, he opens his mouth to speak — attempting to once again say goodbye for the sixth time before an idea strikes you and you interrupt.

“wait, rafey do you think you could…” you get shy on him, giggling and dropping your forehead to his chest. he draws back, shifting on his feet with a slight impatience.

“what? hm?”

you look up, a seriousness held in your gaze and you fiddle with his shirt button again. “could you… make me a video? to help me?” you smile and he thinks he’s being mocked so he sighs, lips pressed together petulantly.

“the hell do i look like to you, hm—”

“rafe please, just — just a video of you making yourself feel good… you know, the ending… with the sound on.” your voice is quiet, not quite knowing how he’ll take it. he lets out a long exhale through his mouth, shaking his head as he thinks before shrugging.

“alright— maybe, okay? i’ll— i’ll think about it. now can i get a kiss because i am leaving.” he puts his foot down, knowing you’ll keep finding reasons for him to stay.

you feel he has pretty much dismissed your request, so you dismiss it too— forgetting all about it as you sulk in bed that night, nighttime routine finally done as you prepare to go to sleep. infact, you’re literally about to put your phone down when your phone dings.

one attachment from rafe.

you open the message, but as soon as you do— your phone rings, the contact picture of him steering his boat flashing up on your screen.

“hello?”

“its done, alright — and you’re only getting one of these videos so i suggest you wait until you really need it to watch it. yeah?” his voice sounds through your phone and a grin spreads onto your face, realising what he’s talking about.

“oh thank you rafe!” you all but squeal and you practically feel him roll his eyes through the phone.

“yeah, yeah— and don’t let me find out you’ve shown that shit to any of your friends, okay? this is just for you.”

“of course not, rafey… do you want anything in return?”

“you send me any freaky shit when i’m with my dad and i’ll wring your neck when i get home. this is just — it’s just to get you through the week… because apparently you can’t live without dick.” he sighs tiredly, a tinge of amusement in his tone telling you he’s being lighthearted in his own fucked up way.

“thats your fault.” you giggle and he hums, the sound of sheets ruffling on his end.

“alright, gotta be up early so i’m gonna head to bed. be good, yeah? i’ll text you when the jet lands, you’ll probably just be waking up at that time.”

“okay rafey, night!”

you actually make it all the way to thursday without using the video. you were tempted — don’t get it twisted, but there was part of you that wanted to hold out, make yourself really need it before you reward yourself.

you find yourself home alone, missing rafe and horny — so you end up on your bed, finger hovering over the play button.

“alright, this is for you baby. don’t ever say i don’t do shit for you.” you hear him first as he adjusts his grip on his phone, using one hand to film his crotch and the other to pull down his boxers — hard, pretty cock springing out. his hand disappears off camera for a second, and returns with a glob of spit in his palm, smearing it all over as he starts to jerk off.

aside from sighs and moans, he’s quiet for the most part until closer to the end — his tip red and throbbing and he gets more desperate. “this kinda shit gets you off, huh? probably gonna hump that little hand like i caught you doin’ that one time. ‘was real cute, baby.” his voice is breathy and you can tell he’s practically talking himself through it, pushing himself closer to his orgasm.

he’s right, your hand is down your panties— rubbing your clit and spreading your thighs as you let out whimpers of your own. “fffuck. you — mm— you wish you were cummin’ on this right here, don’t you? yeah, leavin’ a mess. as usual.” he grits his teeth, stopping for a moment to grip the girth of it in his fist, letting a bead of precum slide down his knuckle.

“shit, you wanna see me cum don’t you baby. dirty fuckin’ girl — wanna see me blow this fuckin’ load for you, huh. oh shit.” he groans, bordering on a whimper before more moans and curses follow, dripping all down his hand before the video cuts off, your boyfriend catching his breath. you continue to rewind it, rewatching until you hit your own peak, whining and moaning his name despite his absence.

he’d had a busy day, so it was no surprise he hadn’t called — and you knew you’d get in trouble, but you send him a picture of your messy, drippy cunt afterwards anyway, simply captioning it ‘loved ur vid rafey <3’

he calls almost instantly, to tell you off.

☆🫖➛🎀*.☽

I just know Rafe is the kind of boyfriend who’d fall asleep at your house the second he got there.

The first time it happened, it was accidental. You had been taking forever to get ready (as always) and he dreaded going to the event anyway.

It was a dinner with his dad and Rose, one in which Ward would pretend their family wasn’t broken for 2 hours minimum, while Rafe had to keep himself from arguing with him at the dinner table.

He figured he’d sit on your bed and scroll on his phone, waiting until you told him you were ready.

Except when you left the bathroom, finally finished with your hair, you found him fast asleep in your bed, shoes still on, breathing deeply.

You smiled at him, and sent a quick text to Ward and Rose:

Rafe isn’t feeling well - I think I’m gonna keep him home. I don’t want him to get Wheez or Sarah sick and make them miss school!!

Maybe we can catch up another time??

You helped remove his shoes, careful not to wake him, wrote a note letting him know where you were in case he woke up, then changed into a crop top and sweatshorts to pick up some sushi from your favorite place.

𝜗𝜚

The second time it happened, it was a tough day for Rafe. He had been working extra hard these past few weeks, wanting to impress his dad so that he could accompany him in the next big meeting with investors.

Rafe was clearly upset, ranting to you about how he wished he had complete control of the business, rather than his dad.

“I’ve proven myself… I don’t know why he doesn’t want to give me more control. I’ve- I’ve taken care of all of his bullshit and I’m still making a quarter of the money he makes.”

You brushed the hair from his eyes as he rested his head on your thighs, “I know, Rafe.”

He huffed, “Can you scratch my back?”

You smiled, “Yeah, c’mere.”

He moved up your body, smushing his face into your boobs and letting your fingers slip under his shirt to scratch your nails down his back.

You traced your fingers up and down his back, “You’ll figure it out, Rafe. You always do.”

Normally, he’d give you an “I know”, but these reassurances fell on deaf ears, him in a deep sleep against your chest.

𝜗𝜚

What happened most often though, was Rafe coming over, texting that he “needed to see you”, only to wind up asleep for hours between your silk sheets.

“Rafeeee, wake up,” you whined. He promised he’d take you out on the boat today, but all he seemed to be doing was snuggling in your bed.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he groggily repeated.

“No, you’re not,” you pouted, poking at his bicep.

“Too comfy,” he groaned into your pillow.

You let him nap for a few more minutes, then run your nails down his back to wake him again.

He moaned into the pillow at the feeling, pulling you down with him to snuggle closer to you.

The two of you stayed there for a while, with his head on your chest, you scratching his head as he laid his full body weight on you.

“Why are you always so tired, Rafe?”, you hummed.

“Your room ‘so comfy,” he grumbled into your boobs.

You smiled sweetly at him, “Your room is comfy too…”

He went silent, his eyes open, staring at the wall. “Cause my dad's always home.”

You frowned, holding him closer to your chest so he'd close his eyes again.

“And your room is really comfy… and you’re really warm.”

You smirked at him, “mhmmmm.”

“And you scratch my back… and you smell like you.”

He buried his face in your chest again, his voice muffled, “and your boobs are good pillows.”

“That’s the main reason you sleep here, huh?”

“Mhmmmm”, he kissed your chest, smushing his face into them until he doze off again.

taglist (message or comment to be added!): @dasguccier @pradabambie

୧ ‧₊˚ 🌷・₊✧

hyper sensitive reader whose too clumsy for her own good :((

every time you accidentally break something tears well up in your eyes but jj has learned the routine to calm you down in seconds. or whenever you stupidly hurt yourself, he would start ‘beating up’ whatever inanimate object that got you that day, making you whine and pout. “yo, what’d you jus say to my girl? yeah, yeah that’s what I thought. stupid cabinet.” pulling a giggle from your lips as your hand caresses the small red indent on your forehead.

but today, you’d had it.

you were having a very long week at work, dealing with your asshole manager who would yell at you for your klutzy ways until your eyes were stinging and rude customers that would send you judgmental glances every time you passed.

so when friday finally came around, you decided to make a special dinner for jj. his favorite, spagetti with meatballs. okay, maybe it wasn’t that special but he absolutely adored it. he’d been so patient with you all week even when you’d snap at him for little things, the stress weighing down on your shoulders making you overly irritable.

he was relaxed on the couch, feet kicked up as a joint sat loosely between his fingers. he checked on you every few minutes, getting in position to jump to his feet every time there was loud clatter but it would only be you grabbing a pan from the cupboard or digging through the pantry, smiling softly to himself as he watched his girl do something so sweet for him.

that was, until the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. he was beside you in seconds, ushering you to the side to not get cut. “careful, baby. stay still, let me grab the broom.” he jumps right into action, hand against your stomach as a shield before disappearing into the pantry. your lip quivers and you bite down on it, willing yourself not to cry.

don’t cry. please don’t cry.

he returns, locked and loaded as his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth, a focused habit. “alright, how do one go about this?” he mutters to himself, staring the floor down like a man on a mission.

before you can help it a sob escapes your lips and his head snaps towards you as you bury your face in your hands, body heating up in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” you cry, and he’s already by your side like a dog trained. “heyy, it’s alright. you didn’t do anything wrong, kid. no need to cry over spilled milk, right?“

after a moment of no response he gently tugs on your wrist, pulling your hands down and his heart lurches at your tear stained cheeks, big doe eyes all watery. “it ain’t no biggie, sugar. we’ll clean this up in no time.” his thumb strokes off the fallen tears but they just keep coming.

“god, how can I be so incompetent?” your voice shakes, the word laced with resentment towards yourself and his eyebrows furrow in anger on to how you could say such a thing. “hey.” his tone is laced with authority and it makes you freeze, wide eyes staring up at his baby blues with a gulp. “knock that off. no one’s allowed to talk about my girl that way, not even my girl. alright, you hear me?”

you slowly nod your head, your sniffles being the only sound that fill the room before his expression softens. “you wanna tell me what’s going on with you, doll? I got a feelin’ this is about more than just s’getti sauce, yeah?”

you sheepishly nod in agreement and he fights a smile. “talk to me.”

“I just-..” you sigh, closing your eyes to collect yourself as your chin begins to tremble. his thumb runs over the skin as though to smooth it out and your eyes meet his again. “jus’ feels like I can never do anything right. think something’s wrong with me.” you sniffle.

“cant help but break everything I touch. I’m just so- so.. clumsy.” you huff, and the tears had finally slowed down. his bottom lip juts out in a pout, and you know hes making fun of you in his jj way.

“it’s not funny!” your voice is whiny, and the smile creeping onto his face makes you roll your eyes, feeling the corner of your lip tug up from his antics. “I’m serious, baby.”

“I know, I know— I’m sorry.” He stifles back a laugh before he collects himself, tilting his head slightly as his hand finds its home on your cheek. “come on, darlin’. there ain’t nothin’ wrong with you, alright? trust me. you’re doin’ just fine. if you break a few things along the way, so what? ain’t gon’ break ya’, is it?” he awaits your response, eyebrows raising in questioning.

you huff once again, a few strands of hair blowing with your breath. “guess not.” you mutter in your adorably stubborn way and he finally flashes that charming smile. “that’s right. and for the record, I like it.” he shrugs his shoulders shamelessly, his smile turning smug, telling you he’s about to say something stupid.

you chuckle and roll your eyes, looking away from him. “no, I’m serious. I love it, actually. gives my savior complex something to do.” you finally laugh, sniffling a few more times until there was no evidence of tears left.

“jus’ wanted to make you dinner, j.” you pout, but your demeanor tells him you’re all cheered up. gave him a scare for a second, worried he wasn’t gonna be able to. “I know you did, princess.” he cooes, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips before adding a quick pinch to your nose with his middle and pointer fingers.

“why don’t you go ahead and get yourself cleaned up, I’ll handle this?” he gestures his head towards the bedroom and you sigh, feeling guilty. “then I think I know somethin’ else I can eat.” he smirks, eyeing you down and it just like that, the guilts gone.

“in your dreams, maybank.” you stalk away from him, a teasing smile on your lips as you pull your shirt over your head on the way and he gawks, tonguing the inside of his cheek “every night, baby!”

yeah, he was definitely getting some tonight.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🌷・₊✧

i dunno if uve done this(js ignore it if u have T T) casually dominant rafe habits w sweet n kook reader!!! id like to know if his hands are js magnets attracted to her waist whenever shes near :)) that is alll, ilysm pretty!!<33

. ౨👔ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ 💌

rafe is so naturally dominant. he doesn't realize it, but he's always manhandling or guiding you in some way shape, or form. it's simply instinctive.

he's very observant. he knows all the products you use and restocks them when you finish them with you asking. sometimes he'll even look up the ingredients in them to make sure your not using anything harmful. "can you stop using that glow recipe shit? shit's awful for your skin i looked it up" as he's adding the entire dermalogica line into his sephora cart and checking out, making sure it's on your account so you don't nag him about not getting the points.

his hands are like magnets, forces that are constantly glued to your body. his calloused palms resting on your hips as you walk through parties, guiding you and making sure that your not walking into people. his hands roam through your entire body, cupping your tits, grabbing your ass, pressed against your neck no matter where you are. he has no shame, everyone knows your his girl.

he's very particular about what you wear, even going as far to set out clothes for you before you go out because he knows how long you take to find an outfit. he likes pastel colors but hates neons, especially green. he loves mini dresses especially the ones that push up your tits and flow around your ass, but nothing too revealing.

he's a natural protector. always scoping out the people around you, death starring the creepy old men who attempt to check you out, as you mindlessly cling to his bicep. he knows how clueless you can be, and makes it his sole purpose to protect you.

MDNI | 18+ content cw: suggestive behaviour, dirty talk, explicit sexual content - unprotected PinV

rafe with a chronically horny gf who can’t help but be bratty, especially when he's gaming and not paying attention to her :((

sticking your own fingers into your mouth, the digits much more forgiving than rafe himself would be, but still enough to attract strings of spittle out your mouth and ruby your now-swollen lips.

rafe can see you in his peripheral, locked in on the game despite his failing vigilance at keeping up with the rest of his friends.

“gonna cut that shit out or do i need to come over there?” he interrupts, barely sparing you a second glance for your low level whorish behaviour and not even bothering to put a hand over his mic — to which you’re met with dull, static chuckles transmitting through his headphones.

“‘m just needy,” you whine, almost mewling while your body subconsciously arches further towards him, incidentally rocking yourself against the sheets and causing your own breaths to labour.

“how about you hump the mattress for me huh? so — so interested in giving me a show, go ahead.”

of course you listen !! so unabashedly raunchy while your walls contract desperately around nothing.

and when you’re finally spent, thighs burning from exertion and chest heaving under a thin sheen of sweat, he’ll get up from his game and toss you on your back — burying himself to the hilt until you’re creaming ‘round him again and again.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ🦈

jj fuckin’ his girl bestfriend all nice and slow, taking in her body just in complete shock that this is reality and not some crazy wet dream. tanned arms supporting his body weight beside her head where her hair is splayed around her head like a halo making her look like some kind of goddess, full lips parted and eyes closed, little ‘uh, uh, uh‘s’ leaving her pretty mouth at every thrust where jj’s fat cock nudges that spot inside her squelchy pussy that makes her dig her nails more aggressively into his muscly back.

her eyes opening for a second when his thrusts become more frantic and miscalculated, her orgasm building white hot in her lower stomach making her moan out, their eyes locking as he continues thrusting, his orgasm building as fast as hers seemed to be.

on a whim, she reaches up to take his shark tooth necklace between her teeth, the action innocent but making jj even more desperate for his release, her innocent eyes looking up at him as he thrusts harder, an even deeper desire consuming him as she moans out.

wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down into a heated kiss, tongues swirling deliciously against each other as he swallows all of her pretty little noises, pulling away to watch her face as she claws harder at his back, his arms aching but he wasn’t about to miss this moment, eyes flicking to her tits as her noises got louder. “‘m fuckin’ coming jj!”

“cmon come for me pretty.” he says, keeping his pace and not looking away from her face, a loud moan spilling from her wet lips as she comes undone, face contorted beautifully as her eyelids slip closed again, feeling the wetness of her orgasm coating his cock he lets go too with a loud groan, as she watches his adams apple bob as he cranes his neck back, dropping his arms which supported his weight and whispering praises inaudibly into her neck.

their sweat-slick bodies pressed impossibly close but still needed to be closer, with his slowly softening dick still inside her sopping pussy she takes a hand through the tangles strands of blonde hair and a kiss to his sweaty forehead, making him smile and press a lazy kiss to her collarbone. “can’t believe we didn’t do that sooner, you’re fuckin’ perfect.” he mumbles, making her blush crimson as he nuzzles his face into her neck and breathes out all relaxed.

— NO INHIBITION, NO FEAR!

pairing: piercer!jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings: explicit smut - female receiving oral / jj is lowkey a pervert / allusions to reader being a pogue / descriptions of needles & piercings

synopsis: your friends bet you'd never be brave enough to go and get your clit pierced, much to their misfortune, you were (considering you needed that betting money to pay rent). turns out though, you were just a little less brave than you thought you were - good thing your piercer, jj, knew just the trick to loosen you up.

author's note: excuse the lack of accuracy i've evidently never had my pussy pierced lmfao. all jokes aside if your piercer ever acts like this pls leave, this is a completely unrealistic work of fiction and the acts in here shouldn't be attempted to be replicated to any extent. credits go to @princessbrunette for the piercer!!jj au.

MDNI | 18+ content

It was a drunken mistake. A stupid bet. One that you really wish you could back out of. Your occlusion to the idea evident on your jaded features as you walked along a littered roadside on the cut. But you needed the money, one more week without rent and your landlord would kick you out — for good. 

The only comforting consequence of this situation was that your kook friends were so arrogantly self-assured that you wouldn’t go through with it that you’d get beyond enough money to pay your rent, and still have some left over. It being a piercing. More specifically, your friends bet you wouldn’t be brave enough to go and get your pussy pierced.

Incredulously, much to your own disbelief, you took the bet. And, here you are— standing eye level with the neon lights illuminating the name of some sketchy piercing shop down the cut — your payment hadn't come through just yet, and it wasn't like you could afford anything better. The buzz of fluorescent lighting evades the glass door and seeps through the cracks in the frame to taunt you as you take a laboured minute to reflect on your fate. Shit.

Despite your subconscious dread, you finally decide to push open the door, an ironically cheery bell dinging to signify your entry — and you hoped to also alert someone that you were there, considering the shop seemed eerily vacant at the moment.

To your luck, a beat after you enter, a man — albeit looking slightly dishevelled — walks in through a door somewhere to the south side of the quaint shop. His hair hangs loosely in his face, a scruffy blonde half masked by a greasy trademark red baseball cap, and his toned chest peeks out of a loose grey tank. 

“Sorry, people aren’t usually early coming to this typa thing,” he excuses himself, “you must be my 3 o’clock huh?”

“Mhm,” you hum, walking up to him to introduce yourself — you figured you might as well get acquainted considering he was about to be sticking a needle through your cunt.

“I’m JJ,” he nods, craning a head behind the counter at the front to double-check your details and confirm the piercing and its price, “oof — a christina piercing huh? Don’t see a lot of those down here. So what did you do for it? A dare? Or are you just some sex-crazed freak?”

His indifference takes you by surprise, the confidence in his tone and the bluntness of his questions bringing heat to your cheeks as you stammer over your words looking for an answer. 

“‘M just joking, just thought I should try ‘n lighten the mood — considering I am gonna be piercing your — y’know, intimates,” he drags out the final word longer than he needs to, sounding out the vowels until you feel forced to drop eye contact, instead choosing to direct your vision to the array of posters decorating the furthest wall in the store. 

“Oh,” you finally get out, “well, it’s more like a lost bet,” you shrug, propping yourself up on the leather bed — the material unforgivingly itchy and stiff on the exposed skin of your thighs — he’d directed you to while talking.

JJ explains the details of the procedure while you try to get yourself situated, internally calming your nerves to the best of your ability, showing off the sanitised equipment and the jewellery selection available. In a heavy contrast to your mood he’s assertive, fluid in his speech and almost excited in his explanation, seemingly despite the fact that he was about to be at eye level with your pussy. But of course, he’s a professional, he’s probably done this same thing time and time over, so you try not to hyper-fixate on it.

Once you’ve picked the jewellery, he starts instructing you, “listen, considering you’re already wearing a dress this shouldn’t be too uncomfortable — unless of course, you’d like to strip down completely,” he winks, clearly humouring himself “— but now I’m gonna need you to take your underwear off.” Despite the not-so-subtle attempts at flirting, the soothing timbre of his voice combined with his directive did enough to have you tonguing your cheek in elusive arousal and clenching your thighs to accommodate to the wetness you could already feel dribbling out of you. 

You nod, going to shuffle them down before taking notice of JJ still watching you, “aren’t you gonna, y’know, turn around while I do this?”

“My bad, my bad. just thought y’wouldn’t mind considering I’m gonna be sticking my face down there later.” He raises his brows at your warmed face before shrugging and spinning on one heel, turning to face the wall so you can remove your underwear in peace.

What a gentleman, you think — wondering how his far-from-chivalrous attitude was already making you wetter than you’d like to be in any scenario, especially one like this. 

“‘M done,” you say after neatly folding your underwear into a square and tucking it into your side. The breeze on your exposed folds enough to extract a shiver from your tense shoulders.

“Great, gonna need you to lay flat and put your legs up on these stirrups now, cupcake.” The pet name slides off his tongue, and your breath hitches ever so slightly when he motions for you to move down on the bed and guides your legs into the holders, “remember, if in any case you change your mind, or want to stop — or whatever — just let me know and we can take a breather, ’k?”

You nod, trying to ignore the rising rush of blood in your ears as a consequence of your nerves. The jitters cause your thighs to shake to which JJ reassuringly palms the meat, wordlessly splaying his warm hand across the flesh and soothing it to a stall.

“I’m going to clean you before I do anything, it might be a bit icy but other than that it shouldn’t cause any discomfort.” 

You think you hear him mutter something along the words of ‘pretty’ before your shoulders tense up from the frosty sensation on your most sensitive region. “Oh—h,” your breath stutters in visible shock, your legs inadvertently fighting against the clamps.

He smirks, the words i-told-you-so written clearly on his face even as he refrains from voicing them. He doesn’t stop though, his gloved fingers continuing to circle your folds and spread the antiseptic around every inch, paying close attention to your clit and rubbing it in routine circles. It was an understandable procedure considering hygiene aspects — and the initial freeze from the cold seemed to distract you from the feeling of his fingertips against you — but now, after his continuous movements, god were you turned on.

Before you know it, you hear the crinkle of a wrapper opening, and JJ’s pinching your clit to keep it in place with one hand and holding the needle in the other. His touch is oddly gentle, the callous of his gloved fingertips causing you to clench and pray that he doesn’t take notice of your arousal. It’s almost enough to distract you from the fact that a needle was about to be directly shoved through the spot with the most nerve endings in your entire body. But not enough exactly— “wait! JJ, wait can we please pause?”

He stops, dropping his fingers from your clit and placing the needle down, “you good?”

“Mhm, it’s just that, I’m — I’m scared, okay. Is there anything you can do to make it hurt less?”

“Well, there is something.. it’s not a perfectly conventional method if we’re being straight — but uhm, I think it could work. Do you trust me?”

“Don’t think I have a choice here do I?” you smile.

“That wasn’t a no,” he grins before lifting the skirt of your dress so the material is tucked into your chest, your pelvis bare and inviting as he tongues at his lower lip, the pink muscle fiddling with a cut near his mouth.

He then ducks down to the position he was in prior to your intervention, and before you have a chance to voice an interrogation, he sucks your achy clit into his mouth, twisting the bud around his lips until a dollop of saliva runs straight from his sopping mouth down to pool at your ass.

“Ah, J-,” you mewl, back arching off the bed as you trash underneath his hold.

“Just go with it mama, tryna help you out,” he silences you. You hum in response, interlocking your fingers with JJ’s and bringing his hand up to palm at the fat of your tit – if this is what it was going to take, then so be it, you might as well help him.

You think you hear a muffled groan against your folds, but the sound is muted since JJ chooses now to be the perfect time to stick his tongue into you, the muscle invasively prodding at your gushing cunt and soaking up every spurt of arousal before it has time to escape your folds.

Almost suffocating, JJ pushes his face further into your thighs while holding you down with a flexing forearm, trying his best to exercise even an inch of self-control and refrain from humping the bed and dirtying the inside of his cargo shorts.

Alternatively, he drags a tan finger up to your hole, tracing the rim while simultaneously tonguing at your clit, teasing the puckered hole until you were dripping down him and dirtying the length of his defined wrist.

“JJ,” you shout, harshly clasping his hand against you, “JJ, ‘m gonna cum.”

Grunting, he reluctantly pulls himself to his feet, one hand still rubbing against your insides while the other fiddles erratically by his side, barely visible in your peripheral and definitely your last priority at the moment.

With a final whine, you clench around his ringer digits and cum, clit pulsing with aftershocks and painfully swollen. Before you have time to recover, a shrill pain shoots through you, acute but so well blended with pleasure that you barely recognize the feeling of JJ removing the piercing needle and clipping in your jewellery.

“Almostt done.. and there, atta girl,” he smiles at you, a dry chuckle leaving his lips as your face quicks upward in a mixture of humour and embarrassment.

“You did it? You actually pierced me?” You’re understandably doubtful, sucking on your bottom lip for amnesty while you stare down the remnants of your wetness shining on his lips.

“Well what can I say, you came to the right place,” he clicks his tongue at the innuendo and raises his brows, fingers raising to shoot you lame fingers guns, and you both flush when you acknowledge the sticky gloss of your arousal painting his two forefingers. 

Hurriedly, he drops his hands, returning to his professionalism to the best of his ability to clean you up and get you to pay while eyeing your features out of the corner of his vision.

“Well, you’re all done there. Think I did I pretty good job if I do say so myself.”

You let out a giggle, still scanning his sturdy frame for any sort of answer to what the hell just happened.

“What, do I got somethin’ on my face?”’

“No – uh, I, I’m just – do you do that with all the women who come in here?”

“Oh, ‘that’,” he makes air quotations around the word and you fight the urge to laugh again for fear that any sudden movements might irritate the piercing. “Well if you’d really like to know,” he leans in closer until you can feel his balmy breath against your cheek, “you can always call me later,” he hands you a slip of paper before backing away and you release the breath you’d been holding in, “but for now, I’m on the clock – can’t be seen fraternising with customers y’know,” he shrugs. To that you actually laugh, letting out a stifled giggle beneath your palm considering he just had his face lapping at your cunt.

When you finally walk out of the shop, you turn back to see if he’s still looking, and to your amusement, he’s standing there pumping his fists. Though when he spins and sees you, he drops them immediately, looking embarrassed before making a phone with his hands and mouthing the words ‘call me’ from the other side of the glass. 

@shellxrls 2023

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ🌒

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 ⋅ 🤍 ˖°

one thing about jj, he’s got a groping problem.

you hear him before you see him, approaching swiftly behind you at a cookout with the pogues with the gleeful expression “who’s got two hands n’loves titties? this guy.” the point punctuated by a warm torso pressed to your back, a crotch thrusted against your ass and a set of ringed hands grabbing a handful of your tits, even having the audacity to wiggle his fingers in the fat of them.

“jayj!” you scold, sticking your ass out to push him off you using your rear, only making him chuckle, giddy because he got what he wanted as he stumbles off and away.

“yeah, yeah.”

he can’t help it! he always has to have a hand on you. whilst he sits outside with everyone, john b working the grill as the pogues chat in a circle— you’re stood beside jj’s seat with fingers absentmindedly playing with the flicked up blonde tresses that stick haphazardly from the bottom of his cap at the nape of his neck. appropriate touching. as he listens to a story pope tells, his arm snakes around your leg, hand disappearing up your dress where you stand to squeeze at your inner thigh just below your covered cunt. you give his hair a little tug and he slides it away, but you don’t miss the way he presses his teeth into his tongue, failing to stifle a grin without looking your way.

don’t even think about having a one on one conversation facing him, the two of you stood behind the grill when he’s on patty duty, watching them slowly brown. he’ll look you dead in your eyes and curl his hand underneath you to cup your cunt. when you smack his chest, flustered as you look around for wandering eyes — he has the audacity to look scandalised by your reaction. “whats with the hospitality? just sayin’ hi to my girl.”

“you mean hostility, and i’m right here — say hi to me normally!” you pout, poking him.

“watch that smart mouth mama. anyway, meant my other girl… you know? your pussy?”

“jj. volume.”

it’s only later on after you were more pliant from the many drinks you’d all shared, stomach full and pupils heartshaped for your dopey blonde boyfriend that you stopped minding all his groping.

as the campfire burns, the two of you stand infront of it — warming your bodies as the evening chill crept over your skin. he holds your waist, chatting quietly in your ear until you turn around— pressing your lips to his. whilst you kiss him, your hand comes down to openly squeeze the shape of his cock through his shorts, thumbing at it for a few seconds before removing your grip, patting his chest as you pull back from the kiss.

his eyes dart between yours, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “uh… so, what was that for?”

“just so you know how it feels.” you smile softly, peeling your body off his and walking back to the chateau where everyone else was headed. he watches you walk, eyes inevitably following your ass for a moment before he heads off toward you — adjusting his pants boyishly.

“jheez, you wanna get dicked down you can just say that.”

୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 ⋅ 🤍 ˖°

thinking about being rafe’s new stepsister—your mom marries his dad and you move to tannyhill right before summer starts. at first he doesn’t care about it at all, doesn’t even talk about it with wheezie n sarah, more annoyed than anything that he has to deal with yet another girl in the house.

then he sees that you’re real pretty, shy and sweet the way he likes, never talking back to anyone, always doing what you’re told. he thinks he could have fun with you, the way you get so pleased with he actually volunteers to drive you around and give you a quick tour of the island. you were gonna go ride around on your bike but there’s a nail in the tire. rafe tells you “get your ass in the truck, kid, i’ll show you around.” you leave your useless bike where it is and so he ends up taking (really more parading) you around, showing you the beach and the country club and the good ice cream shops.

he thinks he’s going to have a good time trying to get into your bed, that it’ll take some sweet talking and latent touches and his devilishly handsome smile to urge you into thinking that this is a good thing, that you should want to be spend such quality time with your new big brother. rafe thought it would be such fun… until he ends up wrapped around your little finger!

he doesn’t realize when exactly it happened, somewhere in between driving you to the kook parties and feeling mildly irritated when he sees you talking to some boy and then feeling beyond ecstatic when you abandon the conversation to talk to rafe instead, the sulking boy taking off the second he sees rafe walking over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. that boy thinks the two of you are dating, and when you do nothing to quell that idea, he starts feeling like he’s never felt before.

the pair of you leave from the party when you want to leave, despite his friends telling him how early it is and that they had people lined up to buy. what you say, goes, and so he takes you to get ice cream after leaving and the two of you eat it in his car in the parking lot, and before long, this is happening every other day. walks on the beach after dinner with the rest of your new family, midnight runs to get snacks when you get hungry—first you’d knock on his door or send him a text but now you two are basically together until midnight every night anyways, so it doesn’t take more than a tug of his arm to get his attention.

“shit, kid, got me running in circles for your crap-” he’ll tell you when he comes back to tannyhill with take out from one place for the two of you to share for dinner and drinks from another place, the new water bottle you wanted in yet another bag, but you had asked rafe so sweetly to pick it up for you, he couldn’t find it in him to disappoint you and say refuse.

in front of the others, it’s all pg-rated, movies on the couch sharing a blanket, but once they’re out of eyesight you lean against rafe and he holds you like a boyfriend would, carries you to bed when you fall asleep and gets in right beside you. presses a kiss to your forehead and says “sleep tight baby, m’right here” in his sleepy, low voice and you feel like you’re in heaven.

one time ward comes to wake you up and your bed is empty, and he goes to rafe’s room to ask if you went out last night after the two of you left to get dessert—which was really just an hour of making out in the backseat of his truck and returning before anyone got suspicious—and he sees you sleeping in there and just is speechless and about to get so angry at rafe. but you jump in and lie to his face, saying you saw a spider that disappeared and couldn’t sleep in there so you just came straight to rafe’s room because he was awake. (ward half believes it, rafe tells you he loves you right after he walks out because you defended him without a second of hesitation.)

it’s really funny because he really did just want to see if he could get into your panties but he’s so whipped for you now—feels like you get him and support him and clear up some of the fogginess in his brain. you keep him out of trouble and you’re good for him, and he’s trying hard to be a good boyfriend to you, even though he’s not your boyfriend, could never be your boyfriend.

drives you up to norfolk for a weekend trip—you lie and say your friends are meeting up there and rafe offers to take you since you don’t drive much (you don’t drive anywhere because rafe takes you everywhere). your mom happily agrees while ward is suspicious, still, but doesn’t voice anything since he doesn’t want your mom to worry. takes you on a real date, where he can hold you by the waist and kiss you and do anything he wants since no one knows you two.

books a cute hotel by the water and fucks you for the first time there, because he’d once thought getting caught only added to the appeal of seducing you, but now it just makes his blood run cold. you don’t care, though, and you tell him as much—that no one in the cameron family could make you stop seeing him unless you decided other wise. after all you knew that would be a part of the deal when you decided you had to make your new step brother yours until any circumstances and stuck that nail in your bike’s wheel so you could find an excuse to spend time with rafe.

that night in the hotel he holds you close and talks quietly to the ceiling, to you, to no one in particular since he thinks you’re asleep.

“don’t have to worry about getting caught, baby. i’ll just marry you and then no one can tell us what to do. just wait until we get back, then it’ll be fine, ‘jus us two forever, hm?”

<3

*.⊹˚𝜗୧ ‧₊˚

when jj eats you out, he does it until you go limp and can’t see a thing but stars. he says he just can’t help himself, that he needs to feel you fall apart on his tongue for the sake of his interest. you’re surely spent beyond certain, and you have a twinge that the boys cum in his pants at least twice.

your hand searches desperately for purchase at the heap of curls on his head, and he practically moans at the feeling, head falling to rest on your thigh with a soft pant tickling it. it had you shivering.

you can hardly get a word out before he’s reasoning with you, and you cry out desperately as he presses an apologetic kiss onto your aching clit, and then another, and another until he’s full on making out with your cunt again.

you’re writhing from desperation and overstimulation and he has you cum on his tongue for the fifth time in a row, and you’re completely, utterly braindead. you can hardly register the gentle two-tap you receive on your forehead, nor the way he mumbles from above you,

“christ— you’re perfect.”

this is so well written ♡

when rafe meets you for the first time, he feels something he’s never felt before. you’re surrounded by your pogue friends and his stupid sister, laughing at a joke jj says, pushing pope’s arm gently, making a face at kie. he stares, lost in his own mind, wondering what the hell they’re saying to make you laugh like that, make you smile like that. 

he’s leering, he knows—wishing he could pull his gaze away but having more trouble doing so than he expected. you smile all pretty at your friends, lips pink and glossy, shining in the sun enough that he can see from where’s sitting. a beer rests in his hand, droplets of condensation gathering on his fingers. he can’t drink though, he’s too distracted. 

the way you twist your hair up and clip it with something silver. the sweat gathering on your neck, along your hairline, how you wipe it with the back of your hand. one of the boys—he can’t tell which one, and he’s glad, otherwise he’d probably go over there and start throwing punches—offers you a hand to guide you into the water, presumably to cool off. 

you shake your head to say no, and sweetly is the only word he can think of to describe how you do it. to describe you, everything about you—it’s so fucking sweet, he can taste it from over here. some of the others go into the water. you stay sprawled out on your beach chair, book resting on your stomach. you fiddle with the straps of your bikini top, yellow—that’s all he can make out—before you stand up, settling the book on the chair and walking towards him. 

he’s under the shade of the little bar on the beach, watching shamelessly, thinking he should look away now that you’re walking over, at least try to play it cool. he doesn’t. he takes a long sip of his beer, putting it down with a slam, harder than he intended.

as soon as you enter the cool shade, you sigh with relief. you take out the clip and let your hair fall down how it was, strands sticking to your neck where he wishes he could lick it off. you’re not two feet from him now, can’t really ignore how he’s staring at you either. 

“can i get a lemonade, please?” you ask the bartender politely, glancing over quickly at rafe. he’s still looking, making you flush and feel even hotter all over. you turn away within a few seconds.

“spiked?” the man behind the counter asks. rafe does move his gaze, finally, to stare at the guy—trying to make sure he’s not making you feel uncomfortable. 

you shake your head and the bartender turns back to get your drink. your eyes keep wandering back to rafe—big, bad, evil rafe. the one your friends always talk about. he’s cruel, they say, violent and angry and treats them badly. just for the principle of the thing, you should hate him. so why can’t you stop your eyes from flitting back to him every few seconds?

“that’s a good idea,” rafe starts. he’s quiet, just so the two of you can hear him, but you have to lean in further. the gap is shortened to just a foot now.

“hm?” you question innocently, not hearing exactly what he said. you’re surprised he’s even talking to you. 

“s’good idea, not to get it spiked. with this sun, you’ll get sick an' tired.”

“but you’re drinking,” you comment, gesturing to the beer in his hand. it looks almost empty.

“i’m not a fucking lightweight, though, that’s the difference.” he turns to see the bartender, chopping up a lemon for your drink. he thinks he has another minute, maybe two, with you.

“how d’you figure that? you don’t even know me.”

“you can just tell.”

“yeah?”

“yeah, kid.” he holds eye contact for a second too long, and you turn away smiling, face feeling so hot, like you’ve been basking in the sun for hours. rafe thinks mission accomplished for a second, smirking, but it dissipates quickly—your drink is ready and he sees jj walking up to where you are.

“can i get a straw?” you ask again, smiling all friendly at the bartender. he grabs you one from behind the counter and peels the wrapper for you.

“kie’s not gonna like that,” jj says, smiling down at you. you look at rafe though, which makes his heart thud in his chest. he likes that, a lot, more than he should.

“well it’ll just be our little secret, then,” you say, thanking the bartender and then taking a sip of the cold drink. 

“you ready?” jj asks, ignoring the entire situation in front of him. 

“yeah, just need to pay-”

“i got it, kid,” rafe says, grabbing his wallet before you can move. you look at him curiously for a second, eyes big, pretty smile shining again. 

“wow, how generous from the millionaire. c’mon,” jj says, and you get up but you don’t want to.

“thanks, rafe,” you say, even sweeter than before. he enjoys how your name rolls off his tongue, wishes he could hear you say it again. 

“no problem,” he says quietly. jj puts his arm around your waist to guide you away, which would normally be enough to warrant at least a single punch, but you look back once, then twice, sneaking a glance back at rafe, still smiling big, bringing the straw to your mouth and sipping. “i’ll be seeing you around," he says, under his breath, just to himself.

jj maybank wants to hate you.

you, with your obscenely expensive lip oil from dior. with that seemingly endless closet filled with the most delicate—fucking exorbitant—fabrics of clothing. you, with all your skirts so short, tops so tight, you were fucking insufferable.

the kook princess, the very symbol of all it is jj would always have to admire from afar, never touch. it made him incensed beyond articulation.

but when you bat your lashes at him at an illegal bonfire on the beach, wordlessly taking the joint from his fingers and pulling a drag, jj seems to forget all about this innate hatred for all things kook.

“you wanna know the truth, jj?” you say sweetly. he’s smirking stupidly down at you, grateful for the dark embers of the fire for casting a dim glow upon the both of you, hiding the flush of his cheeks. “what’s that?” he says, voice a little slurred from the abundance of beers he’s drank.

you press up onto your tippy-toes to whisper in his ear. “i’ve had a huge crush on you for years,” you giggle through the confession, the kush beginning to take effect. it took a moment for your words to register in jj’s head, but when they did, he swore he could feel the blood rushing to his cock.

“yeah?” he grins bigger. you nod with a sweet little ‘mhm’.

that same night, and for so many nights after, jj takes you behind whatever building he can find, bullying his cock into your impossibly tight cunt.

at first, he fucks you with his hatred in mind, the notion of ruining your pristine, tantalizing, onerously gorgeous, body running rampant through his mind. but soon, too soon for his liking, jj comes to realize that he actually cares for you. you were so sweet. not at all obnoxious or needy. now, he found all those things he used to loathe about you endearing.

of course, you knew this was coming. this was the plan from the beginning. contrary to the outsiders belief, you weren’t a dumb kook; you were just really good at pretending to be one.

this made me blush

kinda can’t stop thinking about rafe fucking me somewhere jj can see as a way to mark his territory on me 🤭🤭

anon darling it’s just like you’re tryna distract me from my responsibilities, this is so fucking hot (sorry this took so long)

you struggled to maintain balance against the slippery surface of the glass pane; one leg curled around rafe’s hip, the other acting as a wobbly support beam for the rest of your body.

shallow puffs— and on occasion, a groan —slipped past the blonde’s lips. aside from that, the only other noise reverberating throughout the dark room was a product of sarah’s so called ‘charity case party’ downstairs.

rafe’s less than affable sentiment toward the pogues was no secret, but at least when you were around it gave him something else to focus on— even if their presence still got beneath his skin. tonight was different, however. different in the sense that he was given a reason to pick a bone– and unsurprisingly, he snaffled the opportunity up like a provoked animal.

even if a kind heart resided somewhere beneath jj's signature tattered tank top, this didn't stop him from being a real pain in the ass from time to time. it started when you arrived home from country club, loud laughs floating through the front door as the group of friends congregated around the kitchen, enjoying a few beers.

rafe had been intent on dragging you upstairs as fast as your legs could carry you when the mischievous blonde made a harmless jibe at your boyfriends 'anti-social behaviour'. rafe merely rolled his eyes, continuing to trek toward the staircase... but then jj just had to bring you into it.

"hey man if you don't wanna stick 'round that's cool, but you're misses is more than welcome... gotta spot for her right here." your eyes scrunched closed as he obnoxiously patted his thighs; you knew where this was headed.

when rafe chuckled, the sound was ugly and humourless and regretfully familiar. you were forced to hold him back as his large frame lunged at jj, a brief commotion ensued– sarah and kie screaming and clawing at the boys to stop– before your boyfriend finally came to his senses (it was a suicide mission going 1 v 3).

he flung an arm over your shoulder, wiping a small blotch of blood from his nose with a snort. "i'll be lookin' out for you at the club, jj, hopefully we can continue this civil conversation then."

you were quick to coax him onward as the other blonde shouted out an equally childish response.

rafe's emotions only ranged between 0-100. he was never happy, but ecstatic, and the same went for the other side of the coin; he was never mad, but fuming. that's why when you reached his bedroom and he began the process of aggressively tearing off his clothing, you knew you were in for it.

and that was how you ended up here: splayed against the cool glass of rafe's bedroom window, exposed from your head down to your toes as his hips flick into yours ardently. the pool was just around the corner of the weatherboard plantation, and you scrunched your eyes in embarrassment, praying no one would venture so close to be able to see.

“someone’s quiet." he huffed out, lips latching onto your neck as your head falls back in a choked gasped.

"the others, they could–" your voice dwindled into an airy mewl as he angled his hips upward, hitting that one spot that scrambled you brain.

"yeah, that's the fuckin' point." his ravenous mouth latched onto your , doing everything in his power to draw you out from your shell...and it was working.

he snickered "rafe–"

"c'mon, gorgeous. this is my fuckin' house, let'em hear– it's all they'll ever get."

you knew what he was referring to, or more accurately who he was referring to. the possessiveness practically oozing from his dark gaze, those strong hands that pinned you to the spot. he groaned when you tightened around him, face falling into the crook of your neck. sensing your end, his fingers ventured down to your swollen clit. "that's it, come on my cock."

your cheeks burned as you did just that, a loud wail of his name being extracted from your raw throat. he joined you shortly after, grunting as he pulled you into a sloppy kiss. you orbs were glossed over and delirious, and he smirked, tapping your cheek. "'m gonna go shower, don't forget to go pee."

you nodded and your gaze briefly flitted to the backyard as rafe sauntered into the bathroom, widening as a flash of blonde disappeared from view.

sincerely ~ 🦓༝༚༝༚

rafe with a pogue!reader that just says the most out of pocket, ridiculous shit all the time. he’s perpetually exasperated. you’re jj in female form— really, rafe doesn’t know how he ended up liking you in the first place.

this is him when he looks at u btw

you’re so unserious it actually pains him. he bends over to pick his vape up off of the sidewalk and you air-hump him from behind, with sound effects and everything; you've never seen him move faster, and you squeal when he takes your face in his hands, his brow set deep on his forehead, lips pursed. it pushes your cap halfway off of your head, mussing your already frazzled hair.

"hey, idiot. look at me," he barks, expression hardening as you giggle. you smirk, tongue in cheek.

"what?"

"what the fuck is wrong with you? like actually. you're so fucking weird," he seethes through gritted teeth, unaware of the group of pogues that watch, barely concealing their laughter; you shrug innocently, putting on your best doe eyes for your grumpy boyfriend.

"what are you talking about? i didn't do anything!"

"oh, you didn't do anything?" he parrots; it's something out of a cartoon, truly– his reddened face, pinched features. if you look closely enough, you're sure you'd see steam curling out of his ears.

"nope." you pop the p and he pushes closer to you, crowding your personal space.

"you're a little fucking freak, you know that? you need psychological help."

"yeah, that's fucking rich," you snort, patting his cheek in condescension. you bite his finger when he reaches for your face again. "quit it!" you garble around the digit.

"i can't." he throws his hands up, exasperated as he strides away. "i can't with you."

you grin, scampering after him as he paces. you're bursting at the seams with childlike amusement, skipping happily until you lace your fingers through rafe's. he grumbles something rather unsavoury but still tucks you beneath his arm, scowling as you needle your way into his side.

"gonna be the death of me, kid."

drunk rafe nd shy!reader talking when he starts telling her all about his dark twisted plans of marrying her and getting her pregnant, that she’s going to be his forever. <3

"you need to sleep, rafey," you hum, trying to keep your boyfriend upright while you get him inside tannyhill.

topper had been sweet enough to drop the two of you off before heading home, knowing that you would have trouble driving rafe's truck. you had to remember to thank him tomorrow, maybe bake him some brownies, since you remembered those were his favorite last time you made them.

"wha' i need is you-" he slurs back, and you giggle. rafe never gets drunk like this, and he's usually always composed. the extra shots at the end did him in—the boys were celebrating something that didn't make much sense to you.

"what you need is an advil and some water. and greasy food tomorrow morning, don't worry, i'll make some for you."

"i know y'will." you try to sneak in, remaining as quiet as you can while you guide rafe up the stairs. you're sure everyone's asleep and though rafe's family seemed to really like you, you don't want to make a bad impression. rafe's being loud, and you pray no one wakes up while you get him into his bedroom.

finally finishing the journey up the staircase, rafe gets on his bed, struggling to untie his laces. you can't help your smile, the laugh spilling out. you never get to see him like this.

you hurry over, dropping down and taking the laces into your hands, untying them quickly. rafe kicks off his shoes and sits up on the bed, opening his arms to you. you know you should go and find the bottle of advil, but you can't resist, crawling into his lap and steadying yourself by holding onto his arms. he looks right into your eyes, something that always makes your face burn.

"you're a real good girl, y'know that?" rafe says, words a little less slurred. you smile and nod gently, at a loss for words. rafe's hand comes up to touch your jawline, holding you there a little tightly, but not painful at all. "really. mean it. you're so perfect."

"rafe-" you protest quietly, entire body flushing with a wave of heat. you're used to all kinds of praise for him, it's really commonplace for the two of you, but this feels different—feels more intimate, maybe because you know he's in the state of mind that makes you say everything you're thinking.

"no, i mean it. you're perfect for me. you always listen, always do what i say. how'd you get like that, hm?"

"i don't know," you mumble. he's drunk, so you think he won't remember. "you bring it out in me."

"good. you're so good." you smile, resting your head against his shoulder, eyes shutting while you inhale his scent. "m'gonna marry you as soon as i fuckin' can." your eyes shoot open, a laugh bubbling to the surface.

"rafe-"

"no, really. maybe i should knock you up now, make sure no one gives us any problems."

you pick your head up, looking back at your boyfriend. he seems to be in his own world, lost in his thoughts.

"that sounds good. knock you up and then marry you, and then it'll jus' be me you and the kids forever. that's right. perfect. gotta get on that." you listen with wide eyes and parted lips. even in his drunken state, he wonders if he scared you this time.

"promise?"