The Way Hes So Daddy Has Me Crumbling - Tumblr Posts

"Baby's Day Out" - Rafe Cameron x Trophy Wife!Reader

a/n: @howyouloveyourdragon and @aemonddtargaryen keep encouraging my rafe obsession so dedicating this to them, ya nasties 🩷

Summary: Rafe loves it when you get pretty for him. He just doesn't love that it involves you being away from him.

Word Count: 2,560

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, breeding kink, baby trapping, mirror sex, soft dark!rafe, possessive/toxic rafe, jealousy, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex, creampie, unprotected sex

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

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

Rafe Cameron knows he isn’t the best at making decisions. No, he wouldn’t admit that to anyone on the planet, but deep down, he knows it. The best decision he’s ever made, however, one that he knows he’ll never regret, is marrying you. His adoring little wife. High school sweethearts, he made sure to lock you down the moment your father gave him permission to propose. The two of you were practically Outer Banks royalty, the king and queen of Figure Eight.

He adores you. He loves showering you with affection and gifts, spending on you lavishly without a care in the world. And you? You return that affection to him tenfold, something he’s never experienced in all his life. No one has ever loved him the way you do, made him feel wanted or needed the way you do. His pretty baby girl, his darling wife. The only thing that irks him?

The fact that you have a life outside of him.

Rafe is possessive. He knows he can take it too far. And he often does. He hates whenever another man so much as looks at you, hates when you show anyone attention or affection other than him. He tries so goddamn hard to be good for you and not let it show, but his blood boils at the thought of someone stealing you away. Today is no exception. He’s just gotten back from playing a round with Topper at the Island Club, only to see you getting ready to leave the house, looking like a fucking five course meal in those tight little pink yoga pants that hug your ass, your thighs. And that matching sports bra that your gorgeous tits are almost spilling out of. You have your Chanel sunglasses on your head as you apply that Dior lip oil that always has your plush lips looking so kissable, rushing over to him when you hear the door shut.

“Rafey!” You coo, embracing him and then moving to pour him a glass of lemonade, “Have a good game?”

He nods, grinning at you, “It was great, baby, just wish I had my favorite little cheerleader there.”

You giggle, leaning against his palm when he strokes your cheek, “You know me. I don’t like being perceived before ten in the morning. And I hate outdoor sports,” you wrinkle your nose in that way he finds absolutely adorable, “You have to get all sweaty and hot and disgusting.”

“I could get sweaty and hot and disgusting for you,” Rafe smirks, his hands moving to grab at your hips, pulling you flush up against him, only for his jaw to drop when you squirm out of his grip and tell him that you can’t right now, “Wha- What do you mean? Where are you going, baby?”

“I have my pilates class and then I’m going shopping and to the spa with Wheezie,” you chirp, hanging your purse on your shoulder, quickly applying another coat of lip oil, “Remember, I told you about this yesterday?”

He knits his brows together, knowing you probably told him and that he was too busy either fucking you or thinking about fucking you to pay attention. He lets out an annoyed little huff, grumbling to himself, asking if you really have to go.

“I wanted to spend time with my wife. Wanted to have a little fun with you,” Rafe moves to grab at your ass, squeezing your soft flesh in his hands, making you shake your head, pecking his cheek.

“You’re always in the mood. Love ya, bye.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Rafe shakes his head, pulling you back toward him, his lips grazing against your shoulder blade, “You smell nice.”

You giggle at the feeling of his hands tracing your upper arms, holding you so tight, “I know. It’s Chanel. You bought it.”

Rafe bites down on your shoulder, grinding his cock against your ass, groaning at the feeling of your body against his, “Worth every penny. You smell fucking delicious. Don’t want anyone smelling you like this, baby.”

You roll your eyes, turning to face him, arms wrapping around his neck as you smile, “Rafey, don’t be all jealous. I’m gonna get waxed and my nails and hair done, get a massage and all exfoliated for you,” you coo, batting your lashes at him, “Don’t you want me to look good for you, Daddy?”

“So you’re getting everything done,” Rafe questions, raising a brow, leaning in to whisper, “Including the…”

“Brazilian? Of course.”

Your words go straight to his cock, mind running wild with visions of you and him after your little spa day. Rafe lets out a quiet groan before nodding, allowing you to squirm out of his arms, fixing your clothes.

““Fuck, fuck, okay. You… Fuck. Text me when you get there,” Rafe demands, watching you walk out toward the pink Mercedes he bought you for an anniversary present, “And send me pictures of your nails! You know I like seeing them!”

“Yes, Daddy,” you giggle, blowing him a kiss as you drive off, only to squeal with delight when you see the bouquet of pink roses on your passenger seat, “Rafey!”

He chuckles, waving you off, watching as you speed toward the Island Club, already missing you something terrible.

Rafe knows it’s ridiculous, but he checks your location on Snapchat every two goddamn seconds. He can’t lose you. You’re the only good thing in his life and he’s going to keep you with him no matter what. He’s not the only one who sees your value. He knows that. He’s the one who put a ring on your finger, but that doesn’t stop assholes like JJ or John B giving you an appreciative once-over whenever they see you. He fucking hates it. He sees that you’ve posted a selfie on your instagram at your pilates class, looking like a fucking model. And, of course, JJ, Pope, and John B have all commented on it.

It takes every inch of self restraint in Rafe not to throw his phone across the room. He inhales sharply through his nose, pacing across the room. Why would you post a selfie before texting him? Shouldn’t he be more important than posting a thirst trap on your fucking instagram? That’s when his phone goes off and he sees he has a new message on Snapchat from you. His jaw drops slightly when he opens the image, seeing you posing in the mirror of the Island Club’s shower room, your tiny little towel barely covering anything, blowing him a kiss.

“Showering then heading to the mall. Love you xoxo”

He quickly screenshots the image, adding it to his steadily growing album of sexy little pictures you’ve sent him, palming at his cock, wishing that you were here to take care of his raging hard-on instead. He’s going to fuck you so good tonight that you’re going to be screaming his name. Everything’s going to be different tonight. He’s decided that there’s only one way to prove to the assholes who lust after you that you’re his and only his.

He wants them to see you with a cute little baby bump. He wants them to see that he’s the only one you’re ever going to fuck, the only one who you’re ever going to love. Rafe knows you wanted to wait a couple of years, but surely you won’t care? He’s always complaining and making you feel guilty about how uncomfortably tight the latex condoms you use feel on his cock, so he’s sure with a little coaxing, you’ll let him fuck you raw. You don’t have an IUD and you aren’t on birth control, so all he needs to do is “forget” to pull out.

It’s the perfect plan.

You send him a text an hour or so later with a picture of your shopping bags, his lips twisting into a smirk at the one from Agent Provacateur. Oh, you’re definitely getting bred tonight, he can already imagine you bent over on the bed, his hands in your hair as he fucks you mercilessly, your new lingerie lying on the floor.

And then? A picture of your nails. The text along with it?

“They match your tip xoxo”

Fuck, how the hell is he supposed to wait this long? He needs you right now.

Your biweekly day out with Wheezie is both his favorite and least favorite day of the month. By the time you get home, still chattering away to her on your phone, shopping bags on your arm, looking like a million bucks, Rafe can barely resist running after you and humping your leg like a bitch in heat. He wraps his arms around you from behind, kissing the nape of your neck, snatching your phone from you and tossing it aside, ignoring your protests that you were still talking to Wheezie.

“I said to get off the phone,” Rafe says firmly, turning you around to face him, gripping your jaw in his hands.

You bite your lip, gazing up at him. He knows you love it when he gets like this. All dominant, reminding you who your daddy is. He watches as you shift slightly, pressing your thighs together as you nod.

“‘M sorry, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he replies with a smirk, “Now show me what you bought, baby.”

You immediately begin showing him all of your shopping excitedly - items from the Chanel spring collection, a few Dior pieces, some macarons from Laduree, and then? Finally? The item he’s been waiting for. Rafe eyes the pink set with no small amount of greed, his mouth watering.

“Go put that on for me, baby girl. Wanna see you in it.”

“Don’t you want me to heat up dinner?” you ask, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“No, I want to feast on that delicious little body of yours, baby.”

Rafe watches you strut off toward the massive walk-in closet in the bedroom you share, trailing after you, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. He waits, drumming his fingers against his thigh, anticipation building as he imagines how fucking good you’re going to look in the sexy little number you’ve bought.

When you finally walk out of the closet, wearing those cute little white thigh high stockings with the pink ribbons at the top, a pair of pink Versace platform high heels, and the lacy bra and panties with a garter you bought, all pink of course, his jaw drops. You’re a goddamn vision, prancing around the room, twirling for him. You cover your mouth and giggle, wiggling your ass a bit.

“Do you like it, Daddy?”

He nods, licking his lips and stalking over toward you, pressing you up against your dressing table, “You’re fucking gorgeous. I can’t wait to tear that off you-”

“Nooo,” you protest quickly, shaking your head, “No tearing! Rafey, this is couture!”

“Fine, fine,” Rafe rolls his eyes, running his thumb along your lower lip, “You’re such a little tease, you know that?”

“Am not,” you pout as he turns you around, making you face the mirror, “Daaaddy…”

“You are too,” he chides, moving your hair off your back, trailing kisses along your skin, “You love to flaunt your sexy little body but never let me have too much at once.” Rafe presses himself against you, whispering in your ear, lips ghosting along your neck, “You know what I want from you, baby. Be a good little girl and give it to me.”

You finally seem to realize that the two of you are in front of the mirror. You look at his reflection and pout slightly.

“Raaafe, not in front of the mirror. You know I don’t like looking at myself when we…”

“But Daddy wants you like this, baby,” he purrs, nipping at your earlobe, hands moving around to the waistband of your panties, snaking inside to rub at your clit, loving the way your face twists in pleasure, “Just look at how fuckin’ sexy you are.” You moan his name softly as he kisses your neck, his other hand moving up to cup one of your breasts, squeezing it, “Yeah, baby?” Your head falls back against Rafe’s chest, your gaze half-lidded as you watch his fingers push your panties down and tease your wet pussy. “God, I love it when you let me touch you like this,” he grunts, pumping his fingers in and out of you, crooking them and watching you squirm, “You’re mine, baby. Nobody gets to touch you but me. You understand?”

You nod, your voice coming out in breathy pants, your hand moving to rest on top of Rafe’s, urging him to move faster, “Uh huh…”

“Uh huh who?” he demands, pinching at one of your nipples, grinning as you whine, “Use your words, baby. Or am I fucking you too stupid with my fingers? Did you forget who this pretty little pussy belongs to?”

You whine as he pinches at your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, “Y-yes, Daddy. Belongs to you.”

“That’s a good girl.”

You roll your hips in time with his fingers, confessing as he kisses your neck, marking your skin, “Been thinking about you all day.”

“Have you?” He whispers back, feeling you squeezing around his fingers, knowing you must be close, “What’d you think about, baby?”

“When you came home from golf all sweaty,” you admit, lashes fluttering, “Mmm, your fingers feel so good, Daddy… Need you…”

He chuckles, groaning as you rub your ass against his cock, his self restraint leaving him bit by bit when he feels you, “God, my little princess is demanding today. I like that.” He feels you reach your peak, soaking his fingers with a cry of his name. Rafe keeps eye contact with you in the mirror as he licks them clean with a moan, “Get on the bed on all fours.”

You immediately do as he asks, stripping out of your bra and panties, but leaving the stockings and heels on. Rafe unbuttons his pants, removing his clothes in a hurry, letting them join yours, giving his cock a few quick tugs. He presses his chest against your back, burying his cock deep inside your wet folds. His hand moves to squeeze at your throat as he fucks into you, his balls slapping against your ass, the feeling of him taking you raw being more intimate, letting him fuck you deeper than ever before.

“Daddy, no condom?” You ask breathlessly, though you make no effort to pull away.

“I’ll pull out, baby. Don’t worry.”

Too drunk on him, on your shared pleasure to care, Rafe continues slamming into your tight little cunt over and over again, one hand on your throat, the other groping at your tits as he gets closer and closer to his end, your walls pulsing around him over and over as he fucks into you with abandon. He hears you cry out his name, your whole body going lax as he gives one more, two more, three thrusts, cumming deep inside you, his hot spend seeping out of you. But he just pushes it back in with his fingers, ignoring your little whimper, pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently.

“Take a little breather, baby girl. I’m not done with you yet.”