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rafe turns obssesed for you when you let him drink your blood.
the first time rafe wanted to drink your blood, there’d been some hesitation. like a flicker of something human in those blue eyes. like he was fighting himself not to, but he needed blood, and he knew you’d be a good friend enough to let him.
but now?
oh, now he’s already grabbing your wrist before you even sit down. “you’re not saying no.” he says impatiently and you haven’t even answered yet. rafe’s fingers are wrapped around your wrist, thumb pressed right over your pulse like like he’s memorizing it. his grip isn’t painful, but it’s firm, and almost possessive.
“dude,” you warn, trying to pull back just a little, just enough to prove you can. but you can’t, he doesn’t even let you move an inch. his jaw tightens, eyes flicking up to yours, dark and glowing red. “don’t do that,” he mutters. “don’t, don’t pull away like that.”
“it’s my arm,” you shoot back, breath catching when his grip only tightens. “yeah,” he says immediately. “yeah, i know it is.” he agrees, “doesn’t mean i don’t need it.” your stomach flips at that, at how serious yet needy he sounds, so so desperate. “you’re fucking obssesed,” you annoyingly whisper.
something in the way he looks at you shifts. like he’s subconsciously confirming your statement, before he actually does. “i am,” he says quietly. “you did that. you made me like this.” and before you can respond, he pulls you forward so quickly you’re stumbling into him, landing halfway in his lap. his arm wraps around your waist instantly, locking you there like it’s second nature, like you belong there.
because to him you do, and you don’t even know it. “rafe.” you warn again. “stop talking,” he breathes, but it’s not harshly, it’s shaky, and frayed at the edges. “please just-” he starts with that pleading needy voice again. “just let me” he brings your wrist up again. his eyes don’t leave yours, searching your face like he’s waiting for you to stop him.
you don’t, because you never do, part of it is gratifying for you too. to know how much he needs you. the second you go still, he exhales with relief, like he’s been holding it in for too long, and his lips brush against your skin. your soft and floral scented skin. “say it,” he murmurs against your wrist. your brows knit, “say what?” you ask confused. “that i can tatse it again,” he says, his fingers flexing against your waist. “i need you to say it.”
“you already are,” you point out, breath uneven. his grip falters for half a second, just enough to show it hit something. “yeah,” he admits. “yeah, but i wanna hear it.” your pulse jumps under his mouth, and he makes this quiet, wrecked sound like he felt it more than you did.
“…you can,” you say finally. that’s all it takes before his control snaps. he pulls you impossibly closer, but he does it anyway, his other hand tightening around your arm as he presses his mouth to your skin, and the second the sharpness of his fangs pierce the skin on your wrist, he loses it completely.
he lets out a sharp inhale, like it shocks him every time, like it’s too much and not enough all at once. his fingers dig in, holding you there, grounding himself in you as his head tilts back slightly. “fuuuck” he groans out broken, barely there. it's like his whole body is convulsing.
his lashes flutter, then his eyes roll back completely, like he can’t hold onto anything, not himself but you. “rafe,” you breathe out, your voice breathy and filled with concern, but he doesn’t answer.
he can’t answer. his grip tightens instead, he leans back dragging you flush against him, like he needs your whole body there or he’s going to come apart. his breathing is uneven, shallow, lips still sucking your skin like he doesn’t know how to stop.
like he won’t. “don’t” he chokes out, barely coherent. “don’t move.” he demands. “i’m not.”
“don’t move,” he repeats, fingers flexing. “please.” please. you go still instantly. that word shouldn’t sound like that coming from him. after a few seconds, he finally pulls back, but not far. his lips are still brushing your skin, damp, lingering, like he’s not ready to lose contact yet.
his chest is rising and falling too fast. his mouth stained red with droplets of your blood leaking from the corners of his mouth. you tilt your head, trying to catch his gaze. “you okay?” he lets out a shaky laugh. “do i look okay to you?”
not at all. he looks so wrecked, and completely gone. his eyes finally meet yours, and there’s nothing steady in them anymore,just hunger, just need, just you. “you’re-” he starts, then stops, jaw tightening like he doesn’t even have the words. “you’re not real.”
“i’m literally right here.”
“i know,” he says quickly, almost frantic. “i know, i just-” his hand slides up your arm again, back to your wrist, like he can’t help it. “nobody should feel like this.”
“like what?”
“like i’d fuckin' lose my mind if you said no,” he answers immediately. “like i already did.” your breath catches. “rafe…”
“save it.” he cuts in, shaking his head, pulling you closer again until your foreheads almost touch. “don’t make it a thing. i don’t- i don’t care.”
“you don’t care that you’re addicted to me?” then he menacingly smiles, it’s unhinged. “addicted?” he repeats softly. “that’s a nice way of putting it.” his thumb presses against your pulse again, slower this time, almost thoughtful.
“i was thinking more like, i don’t function without you.” your heart stutters, your unspokedn feelings only enlarging. you subconciously squeeze your thighs from want and he feels it, fuck, he smells your arousal. forgetting you don't fully know how the bond between a human and a vampire works.
his entire expression darkens instantly, something greedy flashing across his face. “see?” he murmurs, already pulling your wrist back toward his mouth, already slipping again. “you do that and then expect me to just, what? sit here?”
“do, what? rafe, wait.”
“no,” he says sternly, breath hitching as his lips brush your skin again. “you said i could.”
“i said once-”
“doesn’t count,” he cuts in, eyes flicking up to yours, completely gone again. “doesn’t count anymore.”
“that’s not how that works.”
“it is for me.” and the way he looks at you when he says it, like nothing else matters. “tell me to stop,” he challenges suddenly, voice quieter now, almost dangerous in how calm it is. “go on, tell me.”
you open your mouth. nothing comes out. his lips twitch, just slightly, already pulling you closer. “you have no idea how thin the line is between wanting you, and fucking loosing myself in you.” and this time, when he presses his mouth to your skin again, he doesn’t even pretend he’s in control anymore.
and you're left with nothing but his venom, and the burning desire of wanting more of him.
based off this instagram video. something quick bc i've been nonexistent.
ꨄ - rafey built you a lego set.
† - you take nerdy rafe's virginity.
ꨄ☾ - nerd rafe finds out you're pregnant.
ꨄ - nerdy rafe tries a pick up line on you.
† - your professor rafe takes you on his desk.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who’s playlist is so dark feminine inspired with songs like ‘Angel’ by massive attack, ‘lilith’ by saint avangeline, and ‘i wanna be yours’ by arctic monkeys.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who never chases him, and it messes with rafe more than he’ll admit, because he’s used to people bending, not watching you casually walk away mid convo like he didn’t just call your name.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who leans against walls, or his car, anywhere really, with that bored, expression while he’s talking, and he always cuts himself off because he forgets what he was saying when he looks at you.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who says his name slow when you’re irritated, dragging out “rafe…” like a warning, and it does the opposite of calming him down, it makes his eyes darken, with his attention completely locked in on you.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who will always just take something out of his hand. whether it’s a drink, his keys, anything, without asking, just because you can, and he knows you can. he’ll just watch you do it. pressing his lips together, deciding if he wants to check you or let you keep going, and in the end, he always let’s you keep going.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who never raises your voice, even when he does, your voice stays controlled, which somehow makes him louder, before he forces himself to match your tone.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who will look him up and down in the middle of an argument, then go “you done?” and it hits his ego so hard he steps closer, his anger rising, instead of backing off, because you don’t argue for long, and that’s what drives him insane because he needs the back and forth with you
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who’s favorite color is a maroon or wine red, because you think it embodies the exact aura you give off.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who definitely has black hair blindness, always dying your hair using loreal black onyx and black sapphire, so the undertones are dark blue, and not that brassy red undertone.
sultrytoxicblackcat!readerwho makes rafe’s anger rise so high, he has no choice but to chill out knowing you’d not care either way. and he hates that.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who doesn’t get jealous in obvious ways. you just go cold, and get a little meaner, and rafe will notice immediately. he’ll get restless, hovering around you like he’s trying to pull you back into orbit.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who lets him show you off but never plays fully into it. you’ll stand next to him, he’ll call you his ‘pretty girl’, his hand resting on your waist, but your face will always give it away. blank and borderline bored, like you’re tolerating it, and that makes people stare more, only because you allow it, and that balance seems to keeps him hooked.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who calls him out in private without hesitation, “you’re doing too much” and instead of arguing, he just stares at you for a second, then smirks like he likes that you said it with a simple “okay.”
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who makes him work for your attention even when you’re already his, even if he already has it, and rafe doesn’t hate it. not even a little, instead he’s so incredibly infatuated, and he’ll never stop chasing after you.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who always looks put together, hair flawless, nails done, heels clicking, and even when you’re arguing, you’ll fix your lip gloss, because not even he, is worth messing up your look over.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who is so privileged with rafe, you don’t respond when he calls your name. you’ll fully ignore him until he corrects himself with a gruff “baby” and then only maybe, you’ll acknowledge him.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who will straight up walk out in an argument if he crosses a line. no yelling, no making a scene, just a “fix your tone” before you grab your bag and leave him standing there. because he’s used to control, but you hold your ground so naturally that he ends up adjusting to you instead.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who doesn’t answer his calls right after. you let him sit in his decisions, letting him spiral just a little, because if he wants you, he can come find you.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who always makes him come to you after a fight. he shows up irritated, ready to argue again, and you’re just sitting there calm with your legs crossed, and hit him with a unimpressed “you came here to continue the same bullshit?” when he’s going off, and it completely throws him into a spanner because you’re not matching his energy at all.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who tilts your head and smiles a little when he gets jealous, not reassuring him, most definitely not denying anything, just letting him sit in his jealousy because he started it anyway.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who will text him something simple like “hi hottie” out of nowhere, and rafe, with no questions needed, just responds with an apple pay of $2250. Simple, and quick, like he always does. you reply with a calm little “good boy”, and he stares at his phone because he hates how much he likes being used like that by you and you only.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who never has to outright ask him for anything. You’ll maybe imply or hint, or simply glance at something a second too long, and somehow it always ends up yours. when it does, you don’t even thank rage properly, just give him a “took you long enough,” which should irritate him, but instead he’s rolling his eyes, knowing he wants to do it again.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who will cancel plans on him last minute if he’s been acting up, no explanation besides a dry ass “not in the mood for you today.” and he’ll show up anyway, knocking on your door like he’s got something to prove, only to find you already dressed, halfway out, looking way too good for someone who “wasn’t in the mood.”
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who will take his phone out of his hand, scroll through something random, then lock it and keep it, not even to snoop, because you know he’s not doing anything worth ‘snooping’ for behind your back. but because you felt like it. and he’ll let you. he might tease and say something like “you gonna give that back?” but there’s no real demand behind it, because if you say no, he already knows he’s not taking it from you.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who will look at him dead in the eyes when he’s trying to intimidate you, completely unshaken, and go “don’t confuse me with those other bitches, you don’t scare me rafe. ” and it does something to him, because everyone else fears him and you just don’t.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who makes him wait because you’re “not ready yet,” even though you’ve been ready. and when you finally finish up, and his eyes land on you, he completely forgets why he was even annoyed in the first place.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who will ever so casually adjust his collar if it’s sticking out, fix his shirt, or brush something off his shoulder, while he’s speaking because he’s yours to handle. And he’ll pause everytime, letting you. His eyes watching the small amusement in your face as you do it, like he’s memorizing the moment. because he loves when you soften with him.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who doesn’t really react when other girls try to get his attention, because you’re not the type to beg for his attention no. you’ll just glance, giving him that knowing unimpressed look, then look away like it’s beneath you. and that reaction? or lack of reaction makes rafe shut it down faster than if you’d caused a scene.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who will sit in his passenger seat, scrolling on your phone, his hand on your thigh while he’s driving, and every once in a while, he’ll glance over, just to look at you, and say “fuck you’re the baddest bitch i’ve ever laid eyes on.” and although you smirk to him saying “yeah?”, it adds such a confidence you never knew you had.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who says “be useful” instead of “please,” and rafe doesn’t even question it, he just does whatever it is, faster than he would for anyone else, because when it’s you asking like that, it feels different.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who doesn’t give him affection when he demands it, but the second he drops the attitude, you’ll lean in, and press a quick kiss to his cheek or jaw, like a reward. and he clocks that pattern immediately, like the obedient man he is. and starts chasing that version of you more.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who will sit on his lap at a party, with your arms resting loosely around his shoulders, legs over his thighs. One of his arms is around your waist, while the other is slung over your thighs holding his beer. Your face is so stoic, and relaxed, but his grip on you is so reassuring, and he fucking loves being able to show everyone you’re his, but more importantly he’s yours.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who can read him too well, and calls out what he’s about to do before he even does it. “rafe, don’t start,” you tell him before his melt down actually begins, and he actually pauses staring at you, because you’re the only one who can shut him down with just those soft two words.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who doesn’t say “i miss you.” instead you say things like “you’ve been quiet” or “you bored of me?” and it’s so subtle, but rafe hears what you mean every single time, and he tries to be with you more, to satisfy the need you so crave.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who keeps little things of his without telling him outright. Like his hoodie, his rings, even something small like his favorite lighter. and when he notices and asks, you just shrug like “it looks better on me”. but he knows you keep them because you like having pieces of him with you, without admitting it, and you do.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who remembers everything he says, even down to the things he forgets he told you. And you love to throw it back at him at the most random times. not to start an argument, more to subconsciously make him aware that you do listen to him, despite the bitchy act. Saying something like, “thought you didn’t like that” or “you said the opposite last week”, and he just stares at you like “ oh so you really listen huh?” and it makes you blush in the stupidest ways.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who gets meaner and loses your patience when you’re worried about him,”be fucking careful. You love to drive like you’re in an f1 race, but you’re not dumbass.” and he clocks it instantly. “you only get like this when you care too much,” he mutters, and you just roll your eyes like he’s wrong, even though you both know he’s not.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who doesn’t say “i love you” often. so when you do, it’s almost like it slipped out. no eye contact but a soft “i love you, you know that right?” while doing something else. and rafe smirks, stopping himself from being a giant giddy idiot, because you never say it unless you really mean it, and really want him to know how you’re feeling.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who will get him things he mentioned once in passing, never making it obvious it’s a gift. you’ll just drop it in his car or hand it to him like “you needed this, right?” and he knows you went out of your way, even if you act like it was nothing.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who lets him rest his head in your lap when he’s exhausted, but you’ll still be scrolling on your phone, occasionally tapping his cheek like “don’t fall asleep on me.” but your fingers will drift into his hair anyway.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who lets him see you tired, and it’s so rare because you’ve been forced and taught to be so independent. So relying on another is so hard for you already. So when you’re exhausted you’re way quieter than usual, leaning into him more, acting so much more touchy and needy, and rafe gets so protective instantly. Checking up on you more, making sure you’re comfortable, cause he knows this version of you isn’t for everyone.
sultrytoxicblackcat!reader who doesn’t beg him to stay, but when he’s about to leave, you’ll catch his hand, holding it for a second longer than necessary, then let go. and that tiny pause is enough to make him doubt even the thought as to why he was leaving in the first place.
an: i love blackcat!reader so she's an inspo from the many insanely great writers who wrote her first. this is my toxic take, with small facts about myself LOL, enjoy !!!
Wait omg I just saw on your masterlist you’re gonna be posting serial killer and stalker rafe! I’m so excited! When will we be getting this? ❤️
the requests in my inbox are so good, idk how i'm even supposed to finish part 5 of flight 1394 without getting distracted. i've been working on flight 1394 rn, then resuming requests.
this one in particular has been like half written just sitting there, but as soon as i finish up the requests i'll drop it !!! these are the works in progress:
flight 1394 pt 5 - final chapter
marine rafe comes home - blurb
nerd rafe finds out your pregnant - blurb
bf professor rafe smut - blurb
old school biker rafe - headcanons
sk rafe - oneshot
ive been mia writing i promise !!! so excited for you to read these all !!!
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some might be inactive, but i re-read a lot of their old posts. i reblog a bunch of my fav fics on @rafesgoodgirlj if you wanna take a peak. please read their tags !!! <3
i absolutely loveeee how much u write with ur headcannons…. girl i just love ur writing in general. amazingggggggg keep them comingggg
funny enough, i used to not like headcanons before i did them myself cause i felt they were so short, and thought that was the point, so when i made my first one (posessivebf!rafe) it was too short for me, so i said fuck it after that.
i love long ass stories, and so many details, and intricate parts, so i make it a point to try and hit a minimum limit for my writing, but also cause i really wanna submerge myself into the character or story, sometimes i feel i come off repetitive or slow, but idk.
i'm yapping now but tysm my love !!! truly, i appreciate you so so much, and i have wip's otw !!! xoxo
to: lean over you in the missionary position, eyes bloodshot and wide, the room filled with the sounds of your whimpers and his moans. his hands are gripping your thighs down, as the squelch of his cock meeting yours repeats in hard motions. your legs would shake when he’s so deep and he would let out, “i know baby, i know you can take it” voice breathy as his eyes roll to the back of his head, cock so deep in your cunt he’s not even sure how he hasn’t came yet. your folds adjust to his girth, and you can’t take the agonizingly slow thrusts anymore, lifting your hips to quicken his pace, “good fuckin girl” he grunts out, his cock pulsing as you take over. "fuck, yes don't stop baby." through breathy moans. "i knew you could take me."
to: act like he's so macho and dominant to everyone else, but when it's the two of you he's literally whimpering when you stop kissing, staring at you with nothing but hunger in his eyes, because he physically needs more. "no, no, no, no" he'll say. "why'd you pull away?" with those eyes wide like he's high, but there's no drugs in his system, and he's just drunk of you. literally begging you to ride him, to caress him, to straddle him, to touch him even, like the fucking loser he is, loosing all credibility when he's on his knees for you, kissing your stomach, and thighs, grabbing your hands whimpering "please, please touch me." ugghhh
to: still display how thick skinned he is. you'll be at a bar or a kook party, and he'll literally have you sit against him or on his lap, and as soon as he clocks some weirdo looking at you funny, you're suddenly standing behind him, his left arm holding onto you behind him, while he's in someone's face. "the fuck are you looking at huh?" he'll spat. "nah don't fucking look at her bitch!" he'll say, and to you it's so hot when he get's so protective of you, cause he'll do this while still holding your hand, behind his back.
to: get mad at you, over something the smallest bullshit, like you leaving him on delivered for twenty minutes. as if it’s some kind of betrayal. “don’t play dumb,” he'll snap at you. “you were on your phone. i know you were.” you'll scuff, “or maybe i just didn’t feel like answering you right away,” folding your arms, except you can’t even fullly be mad because his hand is holding your waist, his thum lightly rubbing back and forth on your skin. “yeah? that how it is now?” and he still hasn't let go, and it's so frustrating, yet calming. “you just ignore me whenever you feel like it?” with a squint of his eye. “rafe, you’re being insane” you say, “nah,” he cuts you off, dragging a hand through his hair before it drops back to you, like he physically can’t stand not touching you. “what’s insane is you acting like i don’t matter.” you roll your eyes, but you don’t step away, because you don’t ever step away. “if you didn’t matter, i wouldn’t be standing here arguing with you,” you mutter. he huffs, leaning forward, forehead almost brushing yours. “you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” he says. “then let go of me.” but it does the opposite, making him tighten his grip. “not'a fuckin' chance.”
to: say something rude as hell, in the middle of an argument, and the second he sees it really bothered you, he'll regret it, and tries to bury it under more anger, because why can you make him soft like that “maybe if you actually fuckin' listened for once-” he starts, but then he sees your face fall, and it throws him off. “wow,” you laugh, but it’s not humorous. “that’s what you think of me?” he scoffs, pacing like he’s trying to outrun what he just said. “don’t twist it baby. you always twist it.” saying 'baby' like the pet name is supposed to soften the blow. “i didn’t twist anything, rafe. you said it.” he stops, turning back to you, “yeah, well maybe i meant it.” and when you're too quiet, he'll quickly take it back, knowing he took it too far. saying almost under his breath, “you know i don’t, though.” and he'll wait for you to come back to him.
to: not say a word to you, like you’ve been cut off without any warning. with his arms crossed, and eyes flicking anywhere but your face, until you realize what he’s doing. “are you seriously not talking to me right now?” you ask, annoyed. and he gives you nothing but a stubborn glance. “rafe, that’s so childish.” he shrugs, leaning back against the wall like he’s got all the time in the world. but really he’s waiting you out. you stare at him, then narrow your eyes. “you’re kidding right?” still nothing. “you want a kiss, don’t you?” you accuse, stepping closer. his gaze finally snaps to yours, but he doesn’t say it, cause he gave it away, “you’re unbelievable.” you grab his shirt, tug him down, and press a quick, annoyed kiss to his lips. and just like that, he exhales, hands sliding to your hips. “see? wasn’t that hard.”
to: cut you off mid sentence grabbing your jaw with his hand, his fingers pressing in just enough to make your words catch in your throat “wanna repeat that?” he says, like it’s not even a question. your heart jumps, more from the look on his face than his grip, as his eyes drop to your lips, not even pretending to listen anymore. “i said you’re acting-” you start again, but it comes out so much weaker this time. his thumb shifts slightly, tilting your face up just a little more. “nah,” he mutters, almost amused. “say it how you said it before.” you suck your teeth “why? so you can get mad again?” you snap, trying to pull back, but he doesn’t let you go. “no,” he says, finally meeting your eyes. “so i can hear the attitude i'm gonna have to fuck out of you later." and that makes you swallow hard, trying to not crumble. “go on,” he adds, “don’t get shy on me now.”
to: refuse to ever be the first one to tap out. going round after round, even when his body is clearly telling him he should call it quits. sweat on his skin, chest rising and falling like he’s trying to catch up with his own breathing, yet he’s already looking at you like he hasn’t had enough. he’s leaning over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other dragging slowly down your side. “another round?” he asks, like it’s nothing. like he isn’t still recovering. you blink up at him, with wide eyes. “are you serious right now?” a tired disbelieving laugh slips out of him. he shakes his head slightly, still not backing off. “what, you think i’m done?” he asks. “rafe, you literally just-” he cuts you off, “don’t care,” his forehead dips closer to yours. “if you’re a drug,” he exhales, smirking faintly, “i’m so fucking addicted.”
based off the tiktok trend, no one asked but i couldn't help myself.
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secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who really truly tried to shut it down at first. like fully pulling you aside after class one day, “you need to stop,” he tells you, firmly. “this isn’t something i can-” he cuts himself off, “i won’t jeopardize everything i’ve worked for.” and it should’ve ended there. it would’ve with anyone else. but you just looked at him, a little evil smile tugging at your lips like you already knew he was losing this fight.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who starts noticing that you don’t actually listen. not in a disrespectful way not at all, you’re still his best student but in the way you keep staying late. “accidentally” catching him as he’s packing up. asking questions that turn into conversations that stretch just a little too long. and every time he tells himself, this is the last time i let this happen, and every time it isn’t.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who shuts down your “i’ll drop the class so we can be together,” idea immediately. you already decided. “if that’s what it takes.” and he just stares at you. actually taken aback for once. “no,” he says immediately. more aggressive than you’ve ever heard him. “absolutely not.”
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who steps back like you’ve just suggested something ridiculous, something he refuses to even entertain. “i am not worth that,” he adds almost defensive now. “you don’t compromise your education over something like this.”
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who doesn’t realize how much that stings until he sees your face drop, because to you, it’s not just ‘something like this.’ it’s him. “it’s not that simple,” you push, softer now, but more dangerous. “it’s you.” and he hates how that hits me directly in the chest.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who exhales like he’s already lost. like the decision’s been made somewhere deep down and he’s just catching up to it. he rubs the bridge of his nose, pacing once behind his desk before stopping. “you’re making this very difficult,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. and you just watch him, patient. because you knew too.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who folds because of you. because you look at him like that, eyes wide in a way that’s looks innocent but doesn’t feel innocent. “i want you,” you tell him, like it’s the simplest truth in the world. “and you want me too.” and the worst part? he can’t even deny it.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who stills the second you step closer. like his body betrays him before his mind can catch up. you reach for his tie, fingers curling around it, tugging him just slightly forward, and he tenses. not because he doesn’t want it, but because he wants it too much. his breathing’s uneven, hands flexing at his sides like he’s physically stopping himself from touching you. “don’t,” he says under his breath, but it’s so weak, and not even a real warning.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who closes his eyes for a second like he’s trying to reset himself, trying to remember who he’s supposed to be. but when he looks at you again, you’re still right there. still holding onto him. and there’s something in his brain that’s conflicted, and gone. “you don’t understand what you’re asking for,” he says. but he doesn’t step away, and that’s the moment he loses.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who doesn’t touch you at first. that’s the thing. even when he gives in, even when he finally says, “okay, okay,” it’s still careful, and restrained. like he’s holding himself on a leash that’s already fraying.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who takes you to dinner far across town. somewhere quiet and dimly lit. nowhere near campus, and where no one would recognize either of you. he’s more nervous than you’ve ever seen him, fixing his sleeve, adjusting his watch or clearing his throat multiple times before he speaks.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who brings you a book bouquet because of course he does. carefully picked titles he knows you’ll love, tied together in a way that’s too thoughtful. and tucked inside? a small, delicate diamond necklace that catches the light just enough to make your breath halt.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who slides the envelope across the table like this isn’t the most nerve wracking thing he’s ever done. and inside? pages of equations. neatly written, and very him. you look up at him, confused, a small laugh slipping out. “what is this?” and he just nudges a pencil toward you, lips twitching. “solve it,” he says, like it’s obvious. and you do, because duh. one by one, working through them, realizing halfway through that each answer gives you a letter. your pace slows, but your heart doesn’t.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who watches you the entire time, quieter than usual, fingers tapping once against the table before going still. because he knows exactly when it clicks for you. the moment your face drops. when you start piecing it together, ‘will. you. be. my. girlfriend?’ and you look up at him like you’re not sure whether to laugh or melt. and he exhales, just barely, like he’s been holding that breath the whole time. “will you do me the honors,” he says softly, matching your pace as you read it, “of making me the happiest man alive, and letting me be your boyfriend?” and you were embarrassingly already nodding before he even finished.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who immediately regrets the wording the second it leaves his mouth. you can see it, the slight wince, the quiet, “that sounded better in my head,” under his breath.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who absolutely melts when you laugh. like visibly relaxing him. tension leaving his shoulders because you’re not running, you’re smiling. and when you say yes? leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips like it’s the most natural thing in the world? yeah. that’s it for him. fuck he’s such a simp for you.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who freezes for a second when you whisper, “so will this be our little secret, professor?” against his mouth. his grip tightens just slightly where his hand rests on the table, pulling back a little, and his eyes flick to yours, with this dark look. “you shouldn’t say things like that,” he says quietly. but there’s zero conviction behind it.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who becomes even more careful in public. if anything, he pulls back more in class. he’ll linger less near your desk, calling on you the same as everyone else, but maybe even a little less. anyone watching would think if anything, he’s harder on you.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who makes up for it the second the door to his office closes. pinning you to the door, grabbing your neck and pulling you towards him, with that sweet smirk. it always taking you by surprise because where has your sweet innocent professor gone?
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who has you sitting beside him at his desk, not across. that’s the first thing that changes. “it’s easier to go through it this way,” he tells you, already pulling your research proposal closer, shoulder brushing yours like it’s nothing. like it doesn’t make you blush in the best way.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who leans in so close when he’s reading your work. one hand braced on the desk, the other holding a pen, his glasses on the tip of his nose, pointing lightly at sections as he goes.. “this part right here?” he mutters, and you’re not even processing the words because all you can think about is how close his mouth is to your ear.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who notices. of course he does. he always notices. there’s a small pause, his lips twitching slightly before he continues like nothing happened, but his tone dips just enough to let you know he’s so very aware.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who is your biggest supporter academically. like it’s not even a question. he takes your thesis so seriously, reading every draft, leaving full notes, sitting with you for hours breaking down the structure, methodology, phrasing. “good girl, this is really strong,” he’ll say, tapping the page. “you just need to trust your argument more.” and boy does that do your head in.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who gives the softest praise but it hits ten times harder now. “you’re doing really well,” he tells you one night when you’re visibly frustrated, fingers tangled in your hair, papers scattered everywhere. he reaches over, gently pulling your hand down. “hey. look at me.” and when you do, his expression softens. “you’re not falling behind. you’re refining. there’s a difference.”
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who gives the most grounding pep talks. not overly sweet, or coddling. “you don’t get this far by accident,” he reminds you. “you’re capable of this. i wouldn’t let you take this on if you weren’t.”
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who stays way later than he should. office lights dimmed, while the two of you are the only ones left in the building some nights. he’ll glance at the clock, sigh quietly, then look back at you. “one more section,” he says, even though he knows he’s not going anywhere until you’re done, until it’s perfect.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who gets a little gentler with physical proximity when it’s just the two of you. not anything obvious, but his hand resting briefly on your back when he passes behind your chair. fingers brushing yours when he hands you a pen. small things that feel huge because of who he is to you.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who absolutely adores how passionate you are about your topic. “repeat me to your thesis my love” and you have a love/hate relationship with pet names, because his deep musky voice always throws you off. “it’s on the effect of multilingualism on recreational reading behaviour amongst first gen immigrants in a variety of different countries.” and he’ll sit back, just listening to you talk through your thesis, with a small and proud smile on his face. “you’re going to publish this one day, and be so successfuli know it,” he says casually, like it’s factual, and not just a possibility.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who still has those moments where it hits him, what this is. like he’ll be mid sentence, looking at you, and there’s a glimmer of awareness behind his eyes and then he’ll shake it off and refocus, because he’s already way too far in, more than he even realized himself.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who walks you out of the building late at night, every single time. no discussion. grabbing his coat, keys in hand. “i’m not letting you walk out alone,” he says simply with a little witt, like it’s obvious.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who really does drop to his knees in front of you at the end of date nights, like it’s second nature. one hand lightly on your ankle, the other carefully unfastening your heels, slow and deliberate. “these things are a hazard,” he says, to himself, like he’s offended on your behalf. but it’s the way he lingers after, thumbs brushing lightly over your skin, like he’s not in a rush to move away.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who calls it “respectable” when he lowers himself to your level, but it’s so obviously more than that. there’s something in his face, so focused and almost reverent, like he wants to be there. like he’d rather be looking up at you than anything else, because to him, you’re his goddess.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who is a yearner in the most dangerous constant way. it’s in the way he watches you when you’re not paying attention, the way he remembers everything you say, the way he pauses sometimes like he got distracted just looking at you.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who encourages you to slow down in ways no one else ever has. “go take a bath,” he’ll say quietly when you’re stressed, already standing up to run it for you. the tub is ridiculously large, borderline unnecessary, and you’ve definitely teased him about it, but he just shrugs. “it’s pragmatic,” he insists, even though it’s not, especially on a professors salary.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who sits nearby while you’re in the bath, because he just loves to be in your space. not only sexually, but mentally. having one leg crossed over the other in his chair, book in hand, reading aloud to you in his calming voice that makes everything sound better than it is. occasionally glancing over the top of the page just to make sure you’re actually relaxing, and you always are.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who will pause if you go too quiet. “still with me?” he asks, and when you hum in response, eyes closed, he smiles to himself before continuing. like seeing you so peaceful brings him a sense of comfort, because if he’s not making your life easier, than what is he doing?
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who loves taking care of you. like sitting behind you with a comb after you’ve washed your hair, carefully working through your hair, patient with every knot. “you need to be gentler with this,” he says after seeing how rough you are with your hair. way more focused on the task than his lectures sometimes, like it genuinely matters to him.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who learns your routine without you ever having to explain it. which products go first, how you part your hair, what you like and what you don’t. and he follows it exactly, like it’s something precise, something worth getting right.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who gets quietly attached to the feeling of you leaning back against him while he does it. the weight of you, the trust in the action. he enjoys way more than he lets on.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who has a thing for your neck and collarbone. he’ll always just absentmindedly press his lips when he’s close to you. like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it half the time. leaving kisses all over, no matter how giggly you get.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who smiles against your skin when you squirm, mumbling something about you being “dramatic” when you remind him you’re ticklish, but he still doesn’t really stop. if anything, he just gets lighter with it, more careful, like he’s adjusting instead of pulling away, and his attentiveness melts you.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who finds comfort in proximity. like if you’re both working, he’ll shift his chair just slightly closer without thinking, with his knees brushing yours. he doesn’t interrupt you, or try distracting you, you just feel him there.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who quietly adjusts things in his office for you without ever pointing it out. like there’s always an extra charger now. your favorite type of tea somehow stocked in the cabinet. the chair across from his desk swapped out for a more comfortable one. none of it acknowledged, because it’s just what he’s supposed to do for him.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who looks at you sometimes like he’s still surprised this is real. like he’ll be listening to you talk, nodding along, and then there’s that brief pause where his expression softens just a little too much before he collects himself again. ‘how can one be so mesmerizing?’ he’ll ask himself.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who never makes a big deal out of how much he cares, but it’s obvious in the way he takes his time with you like second nature. nothing rushed or careless. because you’re something he refuses to mishandle.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who steals the smallest glances at you during lectures. nothing obvious, just quick flicks of his eyes toward where you’re sitting, like a reflex he hasn’t learned to control yet. and if you happen to already be looking at him? there’s the faintest lift at the corner of his mouth before he turns back to the board.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who has, on very rare occasions, given you a blink and you miss it wink during lectures. so subtle no one else notices it, but it hits you like a shockwave, and he just continues explaining like he didn’t just completely derail your ability to think.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who finds teaching your class almost unbearable some days. he’ll be explaining the method of a new equation, writing something out neatly, and his brain just betrays him, flashes of you laughing late at night, the way you curl into him, the softness of you in his hands, your beautiful bare face, and those mesmerizing eyes of yours. and he has to pause for half a second, clearing his throat, forcing himself back into the equation.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who grips his marker a little tighter when that happens, knuckles nearly going white. not enough for anyone else to notice, but just enough to bring him back to reality. “as i was saying,” he continues, his voice steady again, even if his thoughts are anything but.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who gets weirdly territorial over your time, in a “you need rest” kind of way. like if you mention pulling an all nighter, he’ll just look at you before saying, “no, you’re not.” and suddenly your schedule is reorganized, your deadlines broken into manageable pieces, and he’s sitting there with you making sure you actually sleep.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who doesn’t know how to take a compliment. he can compliment your beauty, or how well you do on work, but when you listen to him to explain a concept to you, and say “wow you’re truly so intelligent” he’ll shut down and say “you don’t need to-” but will stop himself mid way to correct himself, because he knows you’re telling the truth, not just trying to falter him. “thank you sweetheart” he’ll say with his shy smile.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who absolutely loves when you wear his glasses. like, it genuinely does something to him. he’ll be speaking, glance up, and just stop for. blinking like he needs to reset. “those suit you very well,” he says quietly, like it’s an understatement, but the way he’s looking at you says everything else.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who thinks your beauty is the kind people try and fail to describe properly. he won’t say it like that out loud, but it’s in the way he studies your face sometimes, like he’s trying to understand how something can be that soft and that sharp all at once. and he’ll say things like, “shakespeare would’ve written play after play just based off your beauty.”
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who is completely obsessed with your mind. like, of course you, but how you think? that’s what gets him every time. he’ll ask you questions just to see how you approach them, leaning back slightly, watching you work through it, and his professor side just explodes at how articulate you are.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who loves to call you “angel”, it’ll slip out when you’re tired, or frustrated, or just being you. “easy, angel,” he’ll say quietly, brushing your hair back. because to him, you’re something gentle in a life that’s always structured and controlled. you soften him without trying. or “my pretty girl.” it’ll come out when he’s a little more undone than usual, paired with a quiet observation. “you think too much, pretty girl,” or “look at you,” under his breath. because he notices your beauty constantly, but this is one of the few times he actually lets himself say it.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who doesn’t just give you answers, he leads you to them. “think about it this way,” he’ll say, tilting his head slightly, guiding you instead of correcting you. and when it clicks for you? that proud little “there it is” like he knew you’d get there all along.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who will randomly test you on small things, not in a pressuring way, more like he enjoys the back and forth. “define that again,” he says one night, looking at you over his glasses, and you roll your eyes but answer anyway. and he just hums, satisfied.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who carries that natural authority into everything. and it’s not controlling at all, more like the kind of presence that makes you want to follow his lead, because you trust it.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who doesn’t even realize how attractive that is. the way he makes decisions, the way he takes care of things without making a show of it, the way he’s always just slightly ahead, already thinking about what you might need.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who notices how you look at him sometimes, like you’re in awe, and it throws him off more than anything else ever could. because in his head, you’re the impressive one.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who has a habit of of using his experience to cater in your favor, like proofreading your emails before you send them, hovering just behind you, one hand resting lightly on the back of your chair as he scans the screen. “change that phrasing,” he says, pointing slightly. “you’re underselling yourself.” and he won’t let you hit send until it sounds like you at your best.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who turns into your handsome, older boyfriend when it’s just the two of you. his professor demeanor drops, becoming more loving and needy for you. reaching for your waist to wrap himself in you. but his underlying strictness never fully disappears, and you love that.
secretprofessorboyfriend!rafe who still, somehow, manages to make you feel like you’re the one with all the power, just by the way he looks at you when you’re not trying.
sequel to professor!rafe | for my bestie aurora, ty for your inspo my lovie <3
nerdy rafe invites you over for dinner at his house, but you had other plans. 18+ mdni
you knock nervously, as you smooth your hand over your skirt like it matters more than it really does. the door opens almost immediately, like he’s been standing there waiting, and rafe looks way more casual than you’re ever used to. no slick back hair, or button up shirts. his hair is slightly messy, glasses low on his nose, white tshirt hugging his arms, and exposing his biceps in a way you definitely didn’t expect. loose blue jeans that are slightly exposing his very sluttly waist.
“hey,” he says, a little breathless, like he rushed to get there. you smile, tilting your head just slightly. “hi. you look nervous.” he huffs out a quiet laugh, stepping aside to let you in. “i am, a little. i didn’t want to mess this up.”
you step into his place, glancing around, taking in how clean and put together everything is. “you? mess something up? i doubt it” you tease lightly, slipping your shoes off. “that doesn’t sound right.” he shrugs, shutting the door behind you. “you’d be surprised.”
there’s a small pause before he says, “i already started cooking, i hope that’s okay.” you glance back at him, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “you started without me? i’m offended.” his eyes widen immediately. “no, i mean, i just didn’t want you waiting, i thought-” you laugh lightly, cutting him off. “rafe, i’m kidding.”
in the kitchen, he relaxes just a little, turning back to the stove, though you can tell he’s still aware of you watching him. you lean against the counter, arms loosely crossed, eyes following every movement. “so what are you making?” you ask, curious. he flips something in the pan, carefully. “uh steak, mashed potatoes, bell peppers and onions.” you raise an eyebrow. “wait, that’s…” he glances at you briefly, then back at the stove. “you said you liked it once.”
you kinda get taken back a bit, “you remember stuff like that?” you ask. he shrugs, but it’s shy, almost embarrassed. “yeah. i mean, if it’s important.” you push off the counter slightly, stepping closer towards him. “and i’m important..to you?” you ask in shock. he freezes for a second, then nods quickly. “yeah. yeah, you are.” you look away, a blush permanent on your warm cheeks.
you stay there while he cooks, asking little questions, watching the way he moves in his methodical manner. when he reaches to grab something, his sleeve shifts just enough for you to truly notice the shape of his arm, and you blink hard, caught off guard. “you’ve been hiding that,” you say before you can stop yourself. he looks over, confused. “what?” you gesture vaguely to his arm, trying to play it off. “nothing. just didn’t think you were-” you pause, a small smirk forming, “a gym rat..”
he goes pink instantly, looking down like that somehow helps. “i don’t, work out that much,” he mutters. you hum, unconvinced. “sure. well, you look good.” that one really gets him, he fumbles slightly with the pan, clearing his throat. “thanks,” he says, barely above a mumble. you pretend not to notice how flustered he is, but your smile gives you away just a little, loving how you can make him squirm in the best way.
once he finishes cooking, he insists on plating everything nicely, setting it in front of you like you’re at a michelin star restaurant. as you take your first bite, he’s watches you, trying not to be obvious about it, but clearly failing. “okay,” you say after a second, nodding to yourself. “this is insanely good.” he exhales immediately, shoulders dropping. “yeah?” you glance up at him, a small, sincere smile on your lips. “yeah. you’re impressive.”
he lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “i don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before.” you tilt your head, studying him again. “that’s a shame.” you say honestly, noting how rafe doesn’t get the praise he deserves.
“you do a lot of thoughtful things, rafe. people should notice that, more often” he looks down at his plate, a little shy again. “you notice,” he says with a shrug, like it’s enough, and you don’t deny it. “i do.”
-
after dinner, he cleans up quickly, like he needs something to do with himself, and when he comes back, he lingers awkwardly near the couch, placing your class of moscato down for you. “um, do you wanna watch something?” he asks, glancing at you briefly. you lean back slightly, watching him. “what did you have in mind?” he hesitates, then, “interstellar. it’s my favorite.” your lips curve faintly. “of course it is.” he frowns slightly. “is that bad?” you shake your head. “not at all.”
he sits down first, leaving a bit of space between you, because he’s trying to be respectful, and you follow a second later. for a few minutes, you let it stay like that, both of you watching the screen. then you decided to shift closer towards him. enough for your knee to brush his. he goes still immediately. you glance at him, pretending not to notice. “so what’s it about again?” you ask.
“uh, space,” he says ironically, then winces slightly like he just caught himself. “and time. and uh, a lot of other stuff.” you smile softly, inching just a little closer until your shoulder presses lightly against his. “you’re really selling it,” you say. he lets out a quiet breath, trying to focus. “it’s actually really good, i just-” he cuts himself off when your hand settles gently on his thigh.
you do it absentmindedly, like you didn’t think too much about it. but he definitely thinks too much of it.
“oh,” he breathes, barely audible, his whole body tensing for a second before he forces himself to relax. you keep your eyes on the screen, voice soft and curious. “wait, why does he have to leave again?” your fingers shift just slightly where they rest, and rafe swallows hard.
“it’s, um, because of the mission,” he starts, already losing his train of thought. “they have to find another planet, so he um, he goes, and time works differently so when he comes back it’s-”
you glance over at him, your head so much closer to his face than you intended. “that sounds kind of sad,” you say softly. he nods, but he’s clearly distracted now. “it is. it’s really-” he stops again, exhaling softly. “sorry, i’m not explaining it well.” you smile faintly, a little amused. “you’re doing fine.” your thumb moves just slightly, barely there. “i think you’re just distracted.”
he lets out a quiet, nervous laugh, shaking his head a little. “yeah. a little.” there’s a pause, then he glances at you. “you’re, kinda distracting.” you look back at him, your expression filled with warmth and playfulness. “am i?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.
he nods once, and before he can second guess it, his hand comes down to rest over yours. it’s hesitant at first like he’s testing the waters but when you don’t pull away, his fingers press a little more firmly. the contact sends something warm straight to your chest, and suddenly you’re very aware of how close you are, of how he smells. a clean and expensive woodsy scent.
you let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh, shaking your head a little. “you smell really good,” you mumble, and immediately cringe. “sorry that sounded so weird.” you say now it being your turn to be shy and awkward.
rafe glances at you, a little startled, then shyly amused. “no, it didn’t,” he says, his thumb brushing slightly against your hand without him even realizing. “you just, said it out loud.” you huff a quiet laugh, cheeks warming as you look away for a second. “yeah, well, filter’s gone i guess.” when you look back at him, he’s already looking at you, and the moment lingers, longer than it should.
you lean in and press a quick, soft kiss to his cheek, not thinking too hard about it. and he freezes. “what was that for?” he asks, quiet and dazed, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. you just shrug lightly, settling back like it was nothing. then you tilt your head slightly, eyes flicking to his lips before meeting his gaze again. “kiss me, rafe.”
he doesn’t hesitate, as he leans into you, pressing his lips to yours. the kiss is so soft it almost catches you off guard. he’s so afraid of doing it wrong, holding himself back without even realizing it. his hand tightens just slightly over yours, and you can feel how nervous he is, how much he’s thinking instead of just feeling.
so you fix it for him, your hand slides from under his, moving up to his jaw, guiding him just a little closer as you kiss him again deeper this time. he makes a quiet sound, surprised, but he follows your lead almost immediately, melting into it. and that makes your chest tighten. the shyness doesn’t go away, but you don’t mind it.
you move without really thinking about it, turning toward him fully, your knee sliding over his thigh until you’re halfway in his lap. he lets out a quiet breath, hands hovering for a second like he’s not sure where to put them. you take them gently, guiding them to your hips, and he swallows hard but doesn’t pull away.
“is this okay?” he asks, barely above a whisper. you nod, just as soft. “yeah. you’re okay.” he relaxes into you, just a little, hands settling more confidently, thumbs brushing lightly against your sides like he’s still figuring it out but wants to get it right. the kisses get warmer, less hesitant, and there’s something so sweet about the way he’s trying, like all of his attention is on you, on making sure you’re comfortable, that you want this.
rafe pulls back just enough to look at you, a little breathless, and wide eyed. “wait,” he says, like something just clicked. your eyebrows furrow, still close enough to feel his breath. “did i do something wrong?” you ask, confused.
“no, no ,no ,no. i uh,” he runs a hand through his hair, clearly flustered now. “i don’t, i don’t have anything. like um condoms. or anything. not that i think we’ll, i just…” he looks genuinely stressed about it, like this is the worst possible timing and word choice. “i should-i should go get some. just to be, safe.”
you stare at him for a second, then you start laughing, because he’s so, attentive. “rafe,” you say, shaking your head slightly, “you’re unbelievable.” he frowns a little, worried now. “is that bad?” you reach for him, brushing your fingers lightly against his arm. “no,” you say gently. “it’s actually really sweet.”
he still looks unsure, already halfway standing. “i’ll be quick,” he says, like he’s made up his mind. “there’s a store like five minutes away, i can just go and come back, it’s fine.” you can’t even stop him before he’s grabbing his keys, cheeks still flushed. “don’t go crazy,” you call after him, amused.
-
he’s gone for maybe fifteen minutes. when he comes back, slightly out of breath, hair even messier than before, he’s holding a small bag like it’s the most serious mission he’s ever been on. you eye it immediately, a smile already forming. “what did you even get?” you ask, trying not to laugh.
he sets it down, a little sheepish now. “just items,” he mutters. you walk up to the stuffed bag on the counter, taking a peek inside. there’s condoms, lube, a bottle of tropical vitamin water, a small box of plan b, and painkillers.
you look up at him, completely shocked and then you laugh again, “you uh,” you start, shaking your head, stepping a little closer to him, “you really thought of everything, huh?”
he shrugs, a little embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. “i just wanted to make sure you were comfortable. and, yeah.” your expression softens completely. and this time, when you lean in to kiss him again, it’s so much gentler because somehow, he just made you want him even more.
the kiss deepened as he kicked his shoes off, his hands finding your waist, as he doesn’t want to break contact with you. you hum softly against his mouth when his hands slightly slip under your shirt. the placement, and the warmth sending a shiver up your spine, you press your body closer to his, a quiet breath catching in his throat.
he pulls away, just barely, trying to catch his breath. his eyes are different from how you’ve ever seen them, a little darkness added to it now. but his gaze is locked on you, watching you intently. “you’re so soft, it’s unfair” he says.
you smirk, fingers tracing the edge of his polo collar teasingly. "you say that like you haven't been thinking about this for weeks." his blush deepens instantly, confirming your suspicions. "maybe," he admits sheepishly, hands tightening slightly on your hips as he leans in again, his breath warm against your lips. "well yeah, definitely."
the way he says it, so honest, makes your stomach flip. you press forward, nipping lightly at his bottom lip before murmuring, "show me just how much." and he lets out a needy little groan before kissing you again, and it send the want so deep into you.
there's an edge of impatience now, his fingers gripping your hips a little more firmly as he pulls you flush against him. you can feel how tense he is, the barely restrained desire in the way he moves. as he backs you toward the bed, his lips never leaving yours, he presses gentle kisses along your jaw, down your neck, finding that one spot that makes you shiver.
his hands slip under your shirt again, lifting it up and over your head. even in the dim light, he takes a moment to just and admire you, to the point it makes you cross your arms covering yourself. “hey no, why’d you do that?” he asks lightly. “i don’t know” you whisper. he reaches towards your arms, “can i?” he asks again. you nod, and he unhooks your arms. “you’re so mesmerizing” he says with a smile.
he guides you gently to lay back against the pillows, his gaze roaming over each curve and contour of your body. his hands follow, warm and reverential, as if he can't quite believe what he's allowed to touch.
he leans over you, bracing himself on one arm while the other trails down your stomach, then back up again, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. his lips find your collarbone, trailing slow, open mouthed kisses down your chest. when he grazes the underside of your breast, it's your turn to gasp, your fingers finding their way into his hair.
he glances up at you, eyes darkened, and then moves lower, pressing delicate kisses along the arch of your rib cage, his breath hot against your skin. he pauses just above your belly button, looking up at you again, this time with a question in his gaze.
you know what he's asking, even if he can't quite get the words out. the desire in his eyes is enough to make you shiver. you nod, your fingers still threading through his hair. "please," you breathe out, more a plea than an answer. and that's all he needs.
his hand slides lower, fingers toying with the elastic waistband of your skirt, then moving lower lifting it up, to reveal your lacey pastel yellow panties, with a bow on top. "god, you're gorgeous." his voice is filled with genuine awe, his eyes roving over the newly exposed skin, taking you all in. his fingers trace a light path along the inside of your thigh, making you shiver.
he presses a kiss to the soft skin where thigh meets hip, then drags his lips along your inner thigh, his touch feather light. the anticipation is a delicious ache, building with every slow, deliberate kiss. he's so close now, his breath warm against you.
he hovers just inches away, his voice a ragged whisper. "i want you so badly." the raw honesty in his words makes your heart race, even as his fingers trace tantalizing patterns on your thighs. you can feel just how much he wants this the way he's shaking with how hard he's trying to hold himself back.
"please," you breathe, arching towards him. "please, rafe..." he takes another shuddering breath, bracing himself. "are you sure...?" the question is genuine, filled with an uncertainty that's both endearing and maddening. he's giving you an out, a chance to pull back, and you should be touched. but right now, all you can feel is impatience, a need so intense it borders on desperation.
you tug his hair just hard enough to get his attention, forcing him to meet your gaze again. your voice is hoarse when you say, "i'm sure. i want this. fuck, i want you, please." his pupils dilate, his breath coming faster now. "okay," he murmurs, nodding like he's convincing himself just as much as you. "okay."
and then he finally closes the distance. his mouth is warm and soft, hesitant at first, testing the waters, until you arch against him with a sharp gasp. the sound seems to unravel him, his hands tighten on your thighs, pulling you closer as he loses himself in the taste of you.
the way he worships you is overwhelming. the slow drag of his tongue, the way he looks up through his lashes every few seconds just to watch you come undone, it's too much and not enough all at once.
your fingers fist in his hair, desperate and pleading, and he groans against you, the vibrations making your legs shake. "oh yes rafe" his name spills from your lips in a broken moan, and his grip on your hips tightens, making him shudder in auditory pleasure.
he pulls back just enough to speak, his lips slick and his voice wrecked. "you taste so good," he murmurs, breath hot against your skin. "tell me what you want. anything."
you feel like you're drowning in pure sensation, his touch setting your skin ablaze. it takes a moment for his words to sink in, but then you manage to catch your breath long enough to gasp out, "i want you to fuck me rafe”
his eyes darken even more, if possible. "yeah?" he asks, licking your cunt in an agonizing slow pace. cutting off any further thought from your mind.
"yeah." you manage to gasp out, gripping the sheets so tightly your knuckles turn white. he chuckles softly, the low sound sending ripples of heat through you. "then tell me to." he says it lightly, like a challenge, even as his mouth moves back to your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.
your breath hitches, body arching towards him involuntarily. "please," you moan, already unraveling. "please, i want-" you can feel his lips curving into a smirk against your skin. "what do you want?" he says and it’s both innocent yet so agonizingly teasing.
you pull tug him up, flipping you both over, so he’s now on his back. you unbutton his jeans, not looking away from his face, as his glasses fog up from the sweat. “i don’t think you’ll need these for right now” you say reaching for his glasses. “no, don’t please” he begs, and his little breathy voice makes you wetter than you thought you could be
“i want to see you” he says, so innocently. “so watch me” you say, letting his cock out. he gasps softly, as you straddle him, pinning him with ease. he looks so flustered, like he can't help himself right now, and you love it.
you take a moment to look down at him, your eyes roaming over him, taking in the way he looks with his pants undone like this. you spit on his cock, rubbing him up and down, as he squirms under you.
"you look so damn good like this," you tell him, your voice low and rough. he whines, arching up against your touch, needy and desperate. "please." he sounds completely wrecked already, like he'd beg for more if you asked.
"please, what?" you ask, teasing. his eyes are wide, lips parted, and he looks so good like this, you don't know how he can be so sweet and so dirty all at once. "please what, rafe?" he swallows hard, his whole body trembling with a mix of nerves and desire. he looks like he's struggling to find the words, his eyes pleading with you. you wait, watching as he gathers himself, trying to find some ounce of composure. but when he finally speaks, his voice is still shaky, filled with need. "please, taste me."
he arches off the bed with a choked gasp, fingers immediately tangling in your hair, not pushing, just holding on for dear life. his thighs tremble beneath your hands as you take him deeper, hitting the back of his throat, as you’re humming around him just to hear the way his breath cracks into a moan.
“f-fuck” his voice cracks, head tipping back against the pillows, glasses slipping slightly down his nose. he doesn’t dare adjust them, too transfixed on the sight of you between his legs. his hips jerk involuntarily, but he catches himself, gripping the sheets instead. “sorry, i’m sorry, i just-”
you pull off just long enough to smirk up at him. “you don’t need to be sorry rafe,” you tease, before swallowing him down again, faster this time.
his moan is embarrassingly loud, his fingers tightening in your hair as his legs tense. “i-i’m not gonna last if you-” he cuts himself off with a whimper when you swirl your tongue just right, his entire body shuddering.
you can tell he’s close, his breath coming in ragged pants, his thighs quivering. but then suddenly, he’s gently tugging you off, his chest heaving. “wait, wait-” you blink up at him, lips slick and swollen. “what’s wrong?”
he shakes his head, flushed from his chest all the way up to his ears. “i just, i want to feel you,” he admits, voice wrecked. “all of you. please.” and how could you say no to that?
you lick your lips slowly, watching the way his eyes darken at the movement. "you want me to ride you?" you ask, crawling up his body until your lips brush his ear. he lets out a shaky exhale, hands instantly finding your hips. "god, yes."
you reach between you, guiding him as you sink down, so slow it’s agonizing for both of you. his mouth falls open, a broken moan slipping out as you take him inch by inch. "fuck, you're-" he chokes on the words, his grip tightening as you finally seat yourself fully.
you roll your hips experimentally, biting your lip at the way his breath hitches. and you can’t help but feel so satisfied at his whimpers, at how he’s so open and vulnerable for you. he whines, hips twitching up instinctively, but you press a finger to his chest "uh uh," you tease. "you said you wanted all of me. so let me take care of you now."
and then you move, slow at first, savoring every drag, every little hitch of his breath. but when his fingers dig into your hips, when his moans grow more desperate, you can't help but speed up, chasing your own pleasure as much as his. "rafe," you gasp, feeling your own climax building. "
his eyes snap open, hazy with pleasure, but locked onto yours. and when he comes, with your name on his lips, his body trembling beneath you, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
you collapse onto his chest, both of you breathless and spent. after a moment, his arms wrap around you, holding you close.
"that was..." he starts, then trails off, laughing softly. you tilt your head up to look at him. "yeah?" he grins, boyish and sweet despite everything. "perfect."
you’re still catching your breath when you both come down from your high. your head resting against his chest while his arms stay wrapped around you like he doesn’t want to let go just yet. his heartbeat is still a little fast under your ear, uneven, and you can tell he’s thinking about something.
“hey,” you mutter gently, tracing small, absent patterns against his shirt. “you okay?” he lets out a quiet breath, almost like he’s been holding it in. “yeah,” he says, but there’s a pause after it, something uncertain lingering in his voice. your brows knit slightly, and you tilt your head just enough to look up at him.
“that didn’t sound convincing,” you say softly. he gives a small, nervous laugh, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck again, a habit you’re starting to recognize. “it’s just,” he hesitates, eyes flicking away for a second before coming back to you. “i haven’t, um, i’ve never done that before.”
you pause for a second, letting the words process. “you mean…” you start carefully, and he nods quickly, cheeks already flushing again. “yeah. i mean, i’ve thought about it, of course,” he adds, a little awkward, a little self conscious. “just, never actually with someone.”
you blush at the thought of you being his first. “oh,” you say quietly, you shift slightly, propping yourself up just enough to really look at him, your expression warm. “rafe, that’s okay.” he searches your face like he’s trying to figure out if you mean it. “it is?” he asks, quieter now.
you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah,” you say. “it just means you trusted me enough to be honest, and to share that with me.” your fingers brush lightly against his jaw, “that’s kind of a big deal.”
he exhales slowly, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “i didn’t want you to think it was weird,” he admits. you shake your head immediately. “it’s not weird at all,” you say, almost instinctively. “if anything, it makes this feel…” you drag on, searching for the right word, then smile slightly, “special.”
that makes him look at you differently. like everything he ever thought about you was solidifying in truth. “okay,” he says, almost to himself, like he’s letting that sink in. his hand finds yours again, lacing your fingers together this time without hesitation. “i’m really glad it was you,” he adds after a second, a little shy but completely honest.
your heart does that annoying, fluttery thing you try to ignore. you squeeze his hand lightly, leaning back into him again. “yeah,” you say, a small smile lingering.
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