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gojo satoru bending you over an ikea kitchen counter while you are literally just trying to canvass furniture like a normal adult.
âdo you think this heightâs okay?â you ask, palm gliding over the smooth surface as you try to picture it in your kitchen.
he hums thoughtfully, like heâs considering your question â then suddenly presses you down until your chest is flush against the display.
âwhatââ you hiss, trying to twist around to glare at him. âsatoru, weâre in public!â
he leans down, his breath brushing your ear. âthis heightâs perfect,â he murmurs, voice dropping low and shameless. âi wonât get tired fucking you like this.â
you freeze, scandalized. âthat is not what i asked! youâre not helping.â
he just shrugs, still holding you there with ridiculous ease. âwell, shouldnât we know if itâs gonna be useful for everything?â
âyouâre ridiculous,â you mutter, glancing around even though youâre the only ones in the section. âsomeone couldâve seen thatââ
âbut they didnât,â he cuts you off, smirking as he presses closer, just enough for you to feel how hard heâs gotten against the back of your thigh. âlucky us.â
you shoot him a glare, cheeks burning. âyouâre not even embarrassed?â
âwhat?â he teases, voice dripping with amusement. âi just think itâs the right height to bend you over and fuck you stupid. thatâs a good investment.â
summary: Your best friend JJ finds you in your shared home, getting fucked by your enemy Rafe.
warnings: betrayal, enemyâs to lovers, dirty talk, reader takes the pill, no big plot, smut
"Youâve got to be fucking kidding me." JJâs voice echoed through the room, his voice filled with disgust and pure rage.
"Oh, hey man. Didnât hear you coming." Rafeâs smug grin didnât made the situation any better. His head turned towards JJ who stood in the doorway, looking at his life long best friend getting fucked into her mattress, in their shared little house, by his life long enemy.
Rafe also didnât stop thrusting into your wet pussy, while his thumb circled and teased your sensetive nub. "God, JJ, get - out!" you tried to sound serious but Rafe just hit the right spot and your voice crackled.
JJ let out a gagging noise and left the room, throwing the door shut and running down the stairs.
Normally you would care, go after him, explain to him that it was basically his fault since he and Pope let Topperâs boat sink and that they stood in front of your shared house, asking for JJ. When you told them he wasnât here and at work, Rafe send Topper away and told him 'he would handle it' and stood inside your living room a few seconds later with the door shut behind him.
You had always hated him just as much as JJ did, but you couldnât deny that he looked too good.
It was all getting too much. The sound of skin on skin slapping against each other, Rafeâs delicious cologne filling your nose, the squeeky bed underneath you hitting the thin wall. "Are you close baby? Does that shit turn you on eh?"
He thrusted harder into you. "Fuck, youâre just as sick as I am. I can feel you clenching around me thinking about your best friend finding me fucking you." His dirty words hit a nerve and soon your nails digged into his skin, slowly dragging them down his back which made him shiver and move even faster.
"Oh shit - do that again." A smirk spread on your lips and you dragged your nails down his back again but a little harder this time. "Holy shit.." he groaned loudly. He was so vocal. Talking dirty to you and making those sexy noises while still dominating you completley.
"Youâre gonna make me cum soon If you keep doing that, princess." You smirked against his skin as your lips met his throat. "Come inside me, Rafe." Your voice sounded sweet and sugary, asking him so nicely. His eyes rolled back.
He grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, pushing even deeper into you. You already didnât think about a condom, wanting to feel him raw, every vein and inch.
"You on birthcontrol?" he asked, sweat building on his forehead, his bangs covered by the cap he wore backwards. He was close, so damn close. You nodded and lifted your hips, taking him another inch. "God, youâre such a little slut for it, right?.." he slurred like he was drunken. "Waiting for me to come and fuck you like the little whore you are?"
Now your eyes rolled back. "Fucking beg for it baby, beg for me to fill that pussy up." "Please Rafe,.." it didnât took you a second. ".. fill me up. Wanna feel you come inside me, please."
That was the last straw that he needed. The already tight knot in his abdomen finally snapped, a warm fuzzy feeling spreading through his whole body. He bit his lip and hid his face in the crook of your neck as his cock started pumping his seed inside you, triggering your own orgasm.
That was the last straw. The tension coiled tight in his belly and snapped all at once, a rush of heat and relief flooding through him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck with a shudder, biting down on your skin as a moan leaves his troath. Hips stuttering against yours.
You felt the warmth of him spill deep inside you. The sensation, the rhythm, the rawness â tipped you over the edge. Your body clenched around him, pleasure crashing over you like a wave. You squeezed your eyes shut, mouth wide open and a broken cry falling out between your lips.
"Fuck, I swear I normally last longer than that." Rafe starts panting, still riding out his high with his hips softly grinding against yours.
A giggle leaves your lips, looking up at him with much softer eyes than the last years. "Thereâs only one way to prove that.."
He gave you a boyish grin before he dove right back into your fun..
Long time no see â idk but Iâm not completly happy wurh my writing at the moment but thought this would be better than nothing đ
â â â â â đđđđđ đđđđđđ đđđ đđđđ đ đđđđđ
â â â â â â â â â â â â â idol!reader x boxer!toji â
Youâre the industry's perfect idol; they make a fortune off of you. But when you confess to having a crush on Toji Fushiguro, the infamous boxer, you donât expect him to respond, but he does.
check out the other chapters please!
Chapter 1: Crush me, baby
the studio buzzed with energy; lights gleamed, cameras flashed, and the low murmur of the audience filled the room. you sat on the soft white couch, your hands nervously folded in your lap as the makeup artist put the finishing touches on your look.
the host, a popular and charming man known to dig into people's business, turned his attention to you. âalright, y/n,â he said, voice smooth and teasing, âwe know so much about you already. but the fans have been dying to know...whoâs your celebrity crush? donât hold back now.â
your breath caught. you felt the cameras zoom in, every eye trained on you. your cheeks warmed, and your fingers tightened around the hem of your skirt.
âwhen i was seventeen,â you began softly, âi used to watch boxing matches with my dad. toji fushiguro...he was the one i liked. i guess i still have a crush on him.â
you gave a shy smile to the camera, biting your lip as you felt suddenly exposed.
the host chuckled, leaning in. âgreat taste, y/n. maybe youâll get your chance someday. youâre definitely a beauty.â
weeks passed. everyone was going on about what you had just revealed in the interview. meanwhile, you wondered if he had seen it or not. does he know?
then, one late evening, a video popped up on your feed. the gym. sweat glistening on his brow, knuckles wrapped tight, toji wiping his face with a towel.
this looked different from the videos you have seen. maybe it's new?
the reporterâs voice asked, ây/n said sheâs had a crush on you since she was seventeen. what do you say to that?â
he looks at the camera, and a slow smirk curls at his lips. âsheâs got good taste,â he says, low and steady. then, with a teasing wink, he adds, âmaybe she should come see for herself.â
the clip blew up overnight. your heart hammered so hard you thought it might burst. you squealed, then dove face-first into your pillow, rolling around on your bed and kicking your feet, giggling nonstop, pure joy bubbling up inside you like a giddy teenager.
then came the invite. a charity event where both of you would be present. a chance to finally meet. your manager assured you it was good for your image, but you were nervous. he would be there. what would toji be like in person?
on the night of the event, the venue buzzed with lights and chatter. you wore a delicate silk designer gown, with pearl chains draped elegantly it. it was stunning, just like you.
you held your phone tightly, scrolling through videos. across the room, tojiâs eyes locked onto you, a slow smirk spreading across his face. you didnât notice him yet, your attention still glued to your screen.
he slowly crossed the room, weaving through clusters of guests, his gaze never leaving you. you, on the other hand, didnât notice. not until a large hand, warm and calloused, settled on the top of your head, making your breath catch.
startled, you looked up, wide-eyed, straight into a pair of dark green eyes gleaming with amusement. his smirk deepened as if he had you exactly where he wanted.
âgot your head buried in that thing,â toji drawled, his hand moving back down to his side, âdidnât even notice me walking up, huh?â
your throat went dry. this was the moment you've been waiting for so long! you scrambled for a response, but you couldn't think, after all, you're right in front of your crush, and he looks even more handsome in real life.
âi-umâŠâ you fumbled, clutching your phone tighter.
he tilted his head, the grin on his lips almost teasing. âcute,â he muttered, more to himself than to you. âi heard what you said about me,â toji continued.
you felt your cheeks heat up even further. you were y/n, the nationâs sweetheart, and a strong woman. but toji fushiguro was turning you into a stammering mess.
âhi, i-i wasn't expecting you t-to...to be here, i mean...you never attend s-so...ââ you managed to breathe out, before being cut short.
âyeah?â his eyes flicked down to your lips, lingered. âwell, surprise.â
he was supposed to be kissing you, supposed to be charming and smooth like he always bragged that he wasâ at least that was until your top came off. then he said goodbye to his composure.
then he's already pushing you back against the bed, eyes blown wide before he latched onto your nipple. he was sloppy and greedyâ like nothing else mattered to him at the moment. he sucked the sensitive bud with a desperate groan, hips humping the bed as he chased the friction like he couldn't help it.
his soft hair tickled your chest, as he switched buds, the previous one smeared with drool. he whined when you tugged at his hair, like pulling him away from your tits was the cruelest thing anyone can do.
"dontâ don't move me" he begged, already latching back on. his voice sounded wrecked, almost broken. "please, baby, just let meâ i need this, i need you."
and when your back arched because of how messy and good gojo was, he whined into your chest like making you feel good this way was the only thing he was good for, and that this was his only purpose.
seeing how he's pathetic, messy, and so, so obsessedâ you almost laughed at how far gone he was. but then his teeth grazed your nipple and he sucked like his life depended on it, and suddenly you were just as ruined as he was.
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pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia.
chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care; drug and alcohol addiction;
Rafe had been clean for the past three years.
Over the course of the year, things between him and you had been smooth sailing.Â
It was almost easy, something he wouldnât have believed a few years back when everything he touched seemed to go up in flames. Thereâd been a time when he was just too muchâangry, impulsive, doing all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons.
Heâd been selfish, reckless, it was intense, way too intense, and when you fought, it was like you were both throwing grenades, just waiting to see whoâd blow up first. Youâd pushed him away, heâd pushed you harder, and youâd both crossed lines that shouldâve never even been close.
Eventually, both of you learned to talk instead of shouting, learned when to back down instead of pushing buttons just to get a reaction. Youâd gotten better at letting each other breathe. Heâd pull back when he felt himself getting heated, and youâd do the same.
It wasnât perfect; sometimes youâd still get into it, still end up in an argument that felt like old times, but it was different. There were no more lines on the bathroom counter, no disappearing at all hours.Â
Until Ward died.Â
Rafe didnât know what the fuck to feel when he got the news. He knew what he was supposed to feel, right? Heâd done it before with his mom, now it was his dadâs turn. The man who had raised him, the one to teach him everything he knew about how the world worked, even if it wasnât pretty.Â
Ward was a hard man, a strong man. The kind of guy who commanded respect, even if he didnât always show it the way others might expect. But thatâs the thing, he was a man of respect.Â
To Rafe, that meant something. Everything.Â
Ward had shaped him, he couldnât just forget that, couldnât act like that wasnât important.
At first, you were there for him, no question.Â
He knew you hated Ward, you barely tolerated the thought of him even existing in the same room as you. You spent those first few weeks with him, making sure he didnât spiral back into the shit that nearly destroyed him. He needed the support, even if he didnât always know how to ask for it.
You were there, holding it down. You got through it, the late-night talk, but then, you started getting distant.
At first, it was subtleâsmall things. Heâd catch you looking at him like you didnât quite get him anymore. Youâd pull away when he needed you to listen, when he was ranting about Ward, and even though you tried to hide it, Rafe could see the dissociation.
He pretended he didnât sense it, tried to tell himself youâd come around.Â
After all, this was his grief, and no one else was going to understand it the way he did. His dad had been everything to himâmaybe not in the way you thought he shouldâve been, but that was just the reality of it.
For the first time in years, it felt like you werenât there with him. It didnât make sense to him how you couldnât see it.Â
Ward had been a tough guy, sure, cruel sometimes, but he was also a provider, a father who tried to teach him how to survive, even if it didnât always come wrapped in the right way.
He wasnât perfect, but he was the only father Rafe had ever known. He was gone all of a sudden and that was what had hurt the mostâknowing heâd never get the approval heâd always been chasing, even when he was clean, even when he was doing better. There was no fixing that.Â
He wanted to mourn in peace, but no one seemed to understand why Ward still mattered to him, not even Sarah.
Three weeks after the funeral he spent his days surrounded by a few bottles of scotch heâd stolen right out of his dadâs stash. Who was gonna stop him now, anyway? He almost laughed. Three years clean. Shit, that was something, wasnât it?
Heâd had people telling him he wouldnât make it three weeks, let alone three years. Shit, his dad sure didnât think heâd get this far. Only you.
Rafe squinted at the amber liquid swirling in his glass, then leaned back in the worn leather of his dadâs old armchair. It felt weird being in here, in his chair, in his office, breathing in that persistent smell of old cigars and varnish.
After the whole âfuneralâ, with everyone looking at him like he was a wild animal about to snap, this was the only place he could sit without someone judging him.
If youâre so clean, why are you drinking yourself half to death? He took a slow sip, letting it burn down his throat.Â
It wasnât like it used to be, that high that hit fast and hard, and didnât care if it broke him apart.
This was different, a slower, quieter process.
Besides, he was in control this time. Just a drink, he told himself, fingers tightening around the glass. No powder, no pills. That was progress.
So what if he had to take the edge off? Who wouldnât, if theyâd just said goodbye to their only living parent and had to look at their younger sisters crying like that?Â
He was practically swimming in alcohol. Rafe knew he was overdoing it, but he didnât care.
Every time he saw himselfâ on a window, mirror, whateverâhe had a drink in his hand, and something about it just felt terrifyingly right.
Grounded.
Nobody understood him; they just kept looking at him with that worried face, like he was on the verge of losing it like he used to when he was younger. Maybe he already had.
You watched himâreally watched himâand yeah, he could tell you were pissed. He saw it in that little wrinkle between your eyebrows every time he took another sip. But you didnât say anything.Â
Even Wheezie was on his case in her quiet way.
She was hanging around, throwing out old jokes and trying to make him smile, but he barely reacted. She was looking at him like she was scared, as if he was some stranger she was trying not to set off. And he hated thatâGod, he fucking hated it. So he kept his distance, hoped she would back off, let him get through this his way.
But then came that night at the beach bonfire, when everything changed.
He probably shouldnât have gone, but he needed to get out and feel normal againâeven if that just implied showing up and pretending, he was fine. He dragged you along, flashing that cocky grin you could see right through, but you followed anyway, probably just to keep an eye on him. He could feel itâthe way you were watching him, worried as hell, that just made him want another drink.
Half the people were staring, too. Waiting to see if he was gonna go off, if he was back to the same volatile Rafe he used to be, the one they loved watching spin out. And just when he thought he could ignore it, some random pogue, scruffy, half-drunk, threw out a comment loud enough for the whole group around him to hear.
âGuess Ward Cameron finally found some gold he couldnât buy his way out of, huh? What was he thinking, running off to some country where people donât just take bribes? Practically killed himself.â
It took everything in him not to lunge right there, but he was too plastered to keep the anger off his face. He pushed his way over to the guy, hands clenched into fists.
âYou got something you want to say to my fuckinâ face?â
The guy shrugged, muttering something under his breath, people were looking now, everyone watching to see if he was finally going to give them a show.
Before he knew what he was doing, he was shoving him back, hard enough that the dude stumbled, beer splashing out of his cup. The crowd around them stirred, murmurs, but nobody did a thingâthey were just staring, waiting to see the blood spill. He felt tempted to hurt someone, felt that cameron fury crawling up his throat.
It didnât matter that he was twice as drunk as he should be; all that mattered was the way his fatherâs name was rolling off this nobodyâs lips.
He felt you grab his arm, long nails digging hard enough to pull him back, he jerked his shoulder, trying to shake you off, but you werenât letting go.
âYouâre gonna waste your time on him?â
Rafe gritted his teeth, but you didnât give him a chance to argue. You hauled him back, forcing him away from the guy, who was still standing there with that smug look plastered on his face.Â
âGet out. Now,â you urged him, voice calm but with the tone that even he didnât want to test. He glared at you, mouth opening to argue, but you didnât let him get a word in. âRafe. Now.â
You were mad at him.
It was enough to knock some sense into him, and he let you reel him away, but not before you turned back.
âAnd you,â you called out, enough to silence the chatter around you. âKeep your fuckinâ mouth shut.âÂ
There was no bluff, no hesitation, and Rafe watched as the pogueâs smug expression dropped instantly, eyes widening as he realized you were dead serious, your familyâs name always had an impact around town, old money and all.
As you dragged him to the car, he muttered that he didnât need you playing bodyguard, but you ignored it, taking him out of the spotlight he hated but couldnât seem to avoid.
His head was spinning, his blood boiling, and he couldnât even look at you, not with how angry he felt.
By the time you pulled up to his house, you got out, guiding him inside with that hard, that silent determination he both hated and admired in you.Â
You were there, right behind him with that look on your faceâangry, disappointed, like he was missing something big, as if he was the one who didnât get it.
He stumbled into the bathroom, holding himself against the sink, and before he could even catch his breath, you turned on the faucet and splashed cold water in his face. He jerked back, sputtering, wiping it with the back of his hand. When he looked at you, his anger burned again.
âWhat the fuck is your problem?â he snapped.
âMy problem?â you scoffed head already shaking, âAre you serious?â
âYou donât get it,â he growled, barely controlling the rage, the shameâeverything. âYou donât know a fuckinâ thing about him. I had the right to defend him.â
You took a step forward, finger pointed at your chest, âDonât I? Because I remember standing in this very house, watching him tear you down every chance he got. Youâre so busy mourning this man who treated you like shit, that youâre pushing the people who care about you away. Itâs not just me. Itâs everyone.â
Rafe laughed bitterly, the sound humorless. âOh, here we go,â he muttered, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the sink, gripping the edge hard enough to make his knuckles turn white.
âDonât you dare roll your fucking eyes at me,â you retaliated, stepping up beside him. âI stood by you through all of it, Iâm not gonna stand here and watch you kill yourself because of him. Heâs the reason you felt like you had to be so perfect all the time, why youâre always trying to prove yourself to people who donât deserve it. And now heâs gone, and you still canât see it. Youâre still trying to be good enough for him!â
He didnât look at you, didnât want to see the indignationâor worse, the pityâin your eyes.
âJust stop,â he muttered, but you were past listening.
âNo, I wonât stop. I canât. I canât keep watching you do this to yourself again. Youâre better than this.â
He suddenly pushed himself away from the sink, and turned to face you, his blue eyes practically black with a hurt that was older and deeper than either of you could touch.
âYou donât get to stand there and tell me what I deserve.â
âI know what you deserve.âÂ
He scoffed, rolling his eyes again, though his face had gone a shade paler. âYou think you know everything, donât you?â he sneered. âThink you know whatâs best for me? Get off your high horse.â
âYouâre damn fucking right I know better than you do, Iâm not the one whoâs drowning every night in some pathetic tribute to a man who wouldnât piss on you if you were on fire.â
He could feel it now, the bitterness youâd been hiding for weeks. It wasnât just about him drinking himself stupid. It was everythingâevery fucking thing youâd been ignoring, it had festered between you two while you pretended things were okay.
âYouâre the one whoâs just tired of me, of everything that comes with me.â
You took a step back, eyes narrowing, but you didnât flinch.
âWhat?â Your rage momentarily dialed down, the sound gurgling, âYou think Iâm tired of you? Iâve been here this whole time, trying to make you see the truth, but you wonât even look at me. You wonât let me in. Youâre too fucking blind to notice.â
His breath was shaky, too fast, but he didnât care. âSo now Iâm blind, huh? I didnât see you sneaking out the door when I needed you? I didnât notice how you pulled back, how you stopped giving a fuck about me? Youâre just waiting for me to give you an excuse to leave.â
You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasnât done.
âYou donât get it! I didnât need you to fix me, I needed someone to stay. But instead, youâ" His voice cracked, the anger choking him up, "Instead, you started to make me feel like I was a b-burden. Some mess you had to clean up. How am I supposed to deal with that, huh?"
You were shaking your head, your eyes had already been filled with tears, your chest suffocating.
âIâve been here. Iâve been standing right next to you, waiting for you to pull your shit together. I didnât walk away. You did.
His stomach churned, as if youâd taken every inch of space in his chest and twisted it, just for fun. The worst part was, he couldnât even argue with you. Not really. He had been so wrapped up in his own shit, so obsessed with keeping everyone out, that he hadnât even seen how far youâd already gone.
âDonât. Donât you dare try to make this about me,â he spat, the words ugly in his mouth, it felt like they were scraping their way out of him. âYou donât get to make me the villain in your story just because youâre tired of playing my fucking hero.â
âIâm not trying to play the hero!â you screamed, stepping closer, your eyes were cold. âIâm trying to help you see that you have to fix this. Not me. Not anyone else. But you. And if youâre so fucking broken you canât see that, then maybe you really donât need me.â
The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Rafe could feel his heart racing, that agonizing coil in his chest, but he couldnât stop.
âMaybe youâre right,â he said, voice quieter, but just as venomous.
He turned his back on you, walking to the door. The sound of his boots clamped against the wood floor like a countdown.
âMaybe I donât. Grab your shit and go.â
"Donât you fuckingâ" you snarled, but he was already moving, grabbing your jacket off the hook by the door and throwing it your way, âYou know what? Fine. Maybe I will.â You shoved that stupid thing on, hands shaking as you yanked the zipper up. âDonât come running back in two days like you always do. Donât come crawling back.â
Rafe paused, hand on the doorknob, his jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscle ticking.
He didnât turn around, didnât look back at you.
âI donât need you to feel sorry for me.â
âGood. Because I stopped feeling sorry for you a long time ago,â you replied sharply, every syllable punctuated with weeks of resentment. âWhat I feel now? Thatâs just disappointment.â
You watched his shoulders lock up; his whole body wound so tight it was like he was one wrong look away from completely losing it. He didnât turn around either, even as you slipped out the door, but he knew.
That was it.
Two moths later, almost three, he was standing in front of the ER pacing like a complete fucking idiot after you passed out in his arms earlier.
Heâd told himself heâd stay away, make it easy for both of you.Â
That shitty plan had gone down the drain once he saw you speed away at that party with absolutely no regard for your safety or Topperâs. Heâd seen that wild look in your eyes beforeâthe one that said you were about to burn it all down. Or when your dadâs gala came around, and he couldnât sleep properly knowing he wasnât going to be there that year, knowing how you spiraled every time you had to step on that stage.
He had stupidly thought that maybe, one day, you two could still be friends. But today? That shit blew up in his face, for the second time in the span of a week.
He forgot what you could invoke in him when you were standing merely an inch away. He promised himself that heâd moved on, forced to consider that the love of his life might not be someone he could spend his lifetime with. Maybe you werenât meant for each other.
But how the fuck was he supposed to act when the girl who had been everything to him was hurting?Â
No, no, no.
Sofia was what he needed.
Someone who didnât know shit about his past, who didnât ask questions he didnât want to answer. She hadnât seen him the way you had, hadnât been there through every drunken rant and punch heâd thrown at the wall or someoneâs face, hadnât heard him rail against his dad or drag himself back from one of his darkest nights.Â
She hadnât called him a fucking idiot when he chose to throw his fatherâs ashes on the ocean. She wasnât going to call him a coward for it. She didnât have a clue about any of it, and that was supposed to be what he wanted.
He looked up at the ER doors for the millionth time in the past hour, his fingers clenched around his jeep keys so tight they left marks on his hand.
It was over between you two. Heâd make sure to keep the fucking distance, two whole months. If he didnât give you enough closure, youâd hate him faster and youâd both get over it.Â
So why the fuck was he about to set the whole hospital on fire as he watched John Bâs beat up twinkie pull up to the parking area? It shouldnât have surprised him, but it did.Â
Of course youâd call her, his own sisterâhis father's favorite.
Sarah had always been the golden child, Wardâs little angel who could do no wrong, while he was the family screw-up. Even now, youâd picked her, just like Ward would have.Â
He didnât think before he moved, closing the distance between him them in seconds.Â
âWhat the fuck are you doing here?â He barked right up in her face, daring her to explain herself.
Sarah didnât back down, though. She just looked up at him with that same cool, level expression she always had whenever he tried to get a rise out of her.Â
âIâm here because she called me.â
âShe called you?â He scoffed, eyebrows pulling together in disbelief. âYou? She called you?â He took a step closer, âSo what, youâre her savior now or some shit? Why the hell would she call you if Iâm right here?â His eyes narrowed, searching her face like he couldnât believe it. âAre you kidding me?â
Sarah threw her hands up, a look of pure exasperation on her face.
âAre you dense, Rafe? Youâre with someone else! Why would she want the guy who broke her heart to drive her home?â
He blinked, thrown off. âI broke her heart? She broke mine!â He laughed, but it was harsh, bitter. âI did us a favor. We were justââ
âOh, right. A favor?â Sarah cut in, voice dripping with sarcasm. âThat why youâre pacing out here like a goddamn lunatic?â
âGo away. Iâm driving her home.â
She stepped closer, her voice steely as she looked him dead in the eye.
âNo. She called me, she wants me here. Not you. So do yourself a real favor and go home before you do something even more stupid.â
A breathless chuckle escaped his lips, âShe already hates me, Sarah. Whatâs the fucking harm, huh?â He threw his arms out, as if daring her to come up with an answer that would hurt less. âWhatâs one more screw-up on top of everything else?â
âYouâre real dumb if you believe that. But if you wanna make it worse, then by all means, go ahead. Youâll just prove her right.â
He stayed rooted in place, chest heaving, the conflict ripping him to pieces. His hands shook, his throat tight with words he couldnât even begin to understand.
But Sarah had already turned her back on him, heading toward the entrance.
âWalk away,â she warned him, looking over her shoulder, âThatâs the only thing left for you to do right now.â
Rafe didnât know why the fuck he listened to her.
It was as if his body had already made that decision for him, understanding that if he didnât leave right then, heâd end up doing something stupidâsomething even more fucked up than what heâd already done. His tongue was locked in place, a curse on the tip of his pursed lips, but it never came.Â
His feet wouldnât move, his hands stayed at his sides, and that tightness in his throat wouldnât let him get a single word out, not one that would make any fucking sense. He hated that. Hated that you still had this kind of control over him.
Hated that he justâŠfelt like something was wrong.
You hadnât been this frantic, so impulsive since he had to take you home after your sister passed. He didnât want to remember that nightâyou damn near threw yourself out of his truck.
But he couldnât ignore the memory, the desperation on your face, the screams, the fight in his grip as he pulled you by your shirt back inside.
Heâd felt like he was holding on to something breaking apart in his hands, something he couldnât fix but couldnât let go of either. Heâd seen it again in your eyes when heâd caught you earlier at the beach clean-up, the way youâd tried to dodge his stare, voice cracking, legs wobbling when he mentioned the hospital.Â
Rafe still felt like heâd swallowed shattered pieces of glass every time he thought about you. And if he could just push it down, if he could just get through one fucking day without looking back, maybe heâd start to forget you.
His feet were glued to the hospital pavement, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. If you were about to crash, if this was anything like beforeâŠHe didnât know what the fuck he was going to do.
He had no reason to stay, youâd made it clear as day. He was supposed to be goneâout of your life for good. Youâd told him you didnât need him, he told you he didnât need you. So why the hell was he still standing here?Â
Perhaps because he remembered the last time heâd let you walk out, the way heâd watched you disappear, thinking he was doing the right thingâgiving you the clean end youâd both needed.
Maybe that made him sick to his stomach now, thinking of you in there with Sarah, telling his sister things you wouldnât say to him, letting her be the person he once was to you.
But youâd called her, not him. Youâd picked Sarah to be here, and that hurt like a bitch, but it was what heâd asked for, wasnât it?
This was what he deserved. He told you to grab your shit and go, forced you to leave because that was supposed to make it easier.
Heâd impulsively made his choice the minute heâd wrapped his arm around Sofia, pulling her close in front of everyone whoâd once known he was yours. Heâd talked himself into it. It was the right call, moving on was the only way to finally get you out of his system.Â
He was the one who decided itâd be easier to act like he forgot you than to actually try. He thought he could make it easyâpain-free.
Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked back toward his Jeep. He gripped the door handle so hard he could break it in half if he wanted to, feeling his knuckles strain.
If he let go, if he closed that door and stormed inside, heâd just be right back where he started.
He stared at his reflection in the window, his hardened face staring back. His pulse was pounding in his temples, his gut twisting and turning as he tried to bury it all six feet underâthe need to just go to you, to hold your hand or yell at you for making him care so fucking much.
He finally released the death grip he had on the door handle, forcing his fingers to relax, his knuckles still throbbing. He slid into the driverâs seat, the cold leather youâd help him choose, mocking at his skin as he slammed the door shut.
With a quick flick of his wrist, he threw the car into drive, the tires screeching as he peeled out of the parking lot.
He drove like he was being hunted down. He wanted to get as far away from that place as possible, praying the miles between him and you would stop the churning inside him.Â
Youâll just prove her right.
He hated her for saying it, hated Sarah for knowing exactly what buttons to push.Â
As he rounded a curve, his headlights swept across Topperâs house. Rafe cut the engine and stalked toward the backyard. Topperâs sprawled-out form on a reclining chair, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses somehow still on evenly.
He stomped up and smacked the end of his chair.
"Wake the fuck up."
He jolted, nearly tumbling off the chair, ripping his sunglasses off and squinting up at him. âJesus fucking christ, dude, ever heard of calling ahead?â
But Rafe didnât answer. He just paced, hands in his growing hair, digging into his scalp like he could rip the frustration out of his skull. Topper sighed, propping himself up on one elbow, he didnât even look at him, just kept muttering to himself, biting his lip, pacing.
âWhat the hell happened?â
Finally, he stopped, âI need you to find out whatâs wrong with your cousin,â he muttered, not wanting to admit he cared enough to ask.
Topper blinked, brow furrowing. âWhat do you mean, whatâs wrong with her?â
Rafe only shook his head, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. âI donât know, okay? She justâŠsheâs acting off. And I canâtâIâm not supposed to care, Top. Iâm not. Iâm with Sofia now, alright? But sheâs stillâŠâ His voice trailed off, as he scrubbed a hand down it.
Topper tilted his head, eyeing him knowingly.
âRight, yeah, whatever you say. Iâll figure it out.â
If Sarah Cameron didnât walk through that hospital door within the next three minutes, youâd lose all the courage youâd summoned over the last hours. Or was it just an hour? You werenât sure how long youâd been lying there, the IV needle taped uncomfortably into your arm.Â
Your fingers curled into the thin blanket draped over you, and you wishedâdesperatelyâthat you didnât feel soâŠempty.
Ten minutes later, she strode in with a glance at the door, as if she wasnât sure if sheâd be able to get there on time. The relief on her face when she saw you was reassuring but it only made the confusion in your chest heavier.
She was so different from Rafe, yet still looked so much like him. She sat in the chair by the bed, eyes scanning your face like she was trying to gauge just how bad it was.
âHi.â
You swallowed, blinking up at the ceiling to keep the tears at bay.
âThanks for coming.âÂ
âOf course,â She reached for your hand where it lay on top of the blanket, hesitating for a split second before giving it a reassuring squeeze. âYou okay?âÂ
You felt a laugh bubble up, âNot even a little.â
She let out a small breath and nodded, squeezing your hand again. âI figured,â she said quietly, and you appreciated that she didnât pretend to have some miracle answer, âI made him leave.â
Sheâd made him leave.
You could imagine his face distorted with anger.
You wondered if heâd put up a fight or if heâd just walked away,  giving in to his sister in that infuriating, self-pitying silence heâd perfected.
You werenât going to ask, the less you knew, the better.
âGood.â You were relieved, but it felt bittersweet, âI didnât want him here.âÂ
Except your voice shook, like it simply had to let her know you were lying.
Youâd been telling yourself for so long that you didnât need himâthat you didnât want him anywhere near you. But the second you pictured him there, waiting⊠God, you hated yourself.
Hated that tiny, pathetic part of you that still wanted him to care, even if it was just a sliver of anything that wasnât anger or flat-out ignoring you.
âHe threw a hissy fight, but donât worry. Heâs not coming back.â
You nodded, half in agreement, half in frustration, âHe never listens.â
âEspecially when it matters,â Sarah added, rolling her eyes. âI swear, sometimes I think he just likes to make things worse for himself. And everyone else.â
You recalled the sound of his footsteps trailing yours earlier, the way his hand had hovered near you when you swayed, the wild look on his face when you told him to back off. He had seemedâŠhurt. Like he wanted to fix something heâd already smashed to pieces.
âI donât want to talk about him.â
She respected thatâshe wouldnât insist. There was a lot to unpack when it came to Rafe, but you didnât need to go there right now. She could tell.
"Okay. Do you want to tell me why you called me and not Topper?â
There wasnât any judgment in her toneâjust plain curiosity, confusion. And you couldnât blame her. If the roles were reversed, youâd be asking the same thing.
You had to bite your lips to avoid crying for the hundredth time that day. You hadnât planned on telling someone the biggest secret of your life in a public space, or after nearly having a mental breakdown.
Not like this, with the IV in your arm.
"Iâ" you started, the words tangled in your throat. "I don't trust him," you admitted quietly, "I donât trust him with this.â
This.
You turned your head to look out the window, the late afternoon light pouring through the blinds, but it never touched the void you felt inside.Â
âHeâs too close. He wouldnât get it. I needed someone who could just⊠not be involved, you know? I meanâYouâre still his sister butââ
Sarahâs already frowning, interrupting your pitying party, âSweet girl, you donât have to explain your reasons to me. Iâm listening either way. I donât know whatâs going on, but I get it, I understand why youâd want to keep him out of this.â
âYouâre the only one I can trust to keep this a secret,â you confessed, âIf anyone finds outâif Rafe finds outâitâs over. Iâm not ready for that.â
A shadow crossed Sarahâs face, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didnât ask questions about what you meantâabout how Rafe had ruined things before. She didnât need to.Â
âI wonât tell him,â Sarah promised, her grip tightening on your skin. âItâs safe with me. Iâve got your back.â
You closed your eyes, breathing out slowly.
This was hard, harder than anything youâd ever done before, and that was saying something considering all the shit you went through when your family died. She had no idea what you were about to say, and you couldnât help but wonder if it would change everything between youâbetween you and her, and you and everyone else.
"Sara, Iâ" The truth choked you once more, cutting you off. You couldnât breathe.
Your chest felt vacant, something was missing, something that you didnât know how to fix, but you had to say it. It was the only way out.
âAre youâ" she started to ask, but you quickly shook your head. You could hear the hesitation in her voice.
"Just⊠just let me tell you,â You begged, pushing the words out before you lost them. âI-Iâm pregnant,â you finally blurted out, as if confessing it all at once could make it easier.
But it didnât.Â
You didnât dare look at Sarah right away.Â
Your eyes were stuck on the ceiling, blinking rapidly, you didnât need her to see how much this was breaking you or how terrified you were. You could feel her eyes on you now, and your hand clenched around the blanket, your knuckles white from the lack of circulation.Â
Then, slowly, Sarah squeezed your hand again, she was giving you a moment to breathe, even though you didnât feel like you deserved it.
âRafeâs?â she asked quietly, confirming what you already knew she understood.
You nodded, not needing to say it aloud; she could sense the truth in the way your chest hitched, how you couldnât bring yourself to meet her eyes.
âGod,â Sarah breathed out, "And you... you want to...?"
You nodded again. She wasnât asking if you were sure; you could hear it in the hesitation of her question. She was asking if you were ready to make the choice.
âI donât want this,â you choked out, the tears finally breaking free. âI canât have it, Sarah. I canât. Iâm not ready for that. Iâm not sure I even know what I want anymore," you spit the doubt out with the brokenness you felt, wiping the traitorous tear that traced down your cheek. "I donât know what to do."
âIâm here. Whatever you need, however you need to do thisâIâm here,â she promised, making sure you wouldnât float away.
âI canât⊠I just⊠I donât want him to find out,â you managed between shallow breaths. âIf he knew, heâd⊠I donât know what heâd do. Maybe itâs stupid, but I donât want him to look at me like⊠like he owns me something.â
Sarah nodded, not a hint of judgment on her face, âHe wonât know a thing from me, I swear. Heâll never have any say in this, not unless you want him to. This is your choice, no one elseâs.â
You didnât know youâd been holding your breath, but it came out all at once in a shaky exhale.
âThank you. I just⊠I didnât know who else I could ask.â
âHey,â she said, her voice gentle. âThis? This is exactly what Iâm here for. Iâve got you, no matter what.â
The empathy there, the way she held space for all your broken pieces.
âNew Mexicoâs clinic rules⊠they wonât let me go through with it alone. They said I need someone with me.â You took a shaky breath. âI canât imagine anyone else but you there, Sarah.â
âThen Iâll be there,â she said, without hesitation. âIâll get the tickets, weâll go together. And if you feel like breaking down, then break down, because you donât have to keep any of this in anymore.â
Her words broke something in you that had been holding everything so tightly. The relief, the gratitudeâ âYouâre really⊠Youâd really do this for me?â
âOf course,â she murmured, pulling you close so your head rested against her shoulder, her fingers brushing through your hair soothingly. âSweet girl, Iâd do this a thousand times over.â
âI meanâheâs your brother. I donât want to mess things up between you two even more.â
She sighed, giving a small, sad smile, almost like sheâd been waiting for you to say that. âYou think heâs my priority right now? Donât you worry about me and him, we always figure it out. Trust me, Iâm used to it.â
âHe might hate me for this. And if he takes that out on youâŠâ You couldnât finish.
âListen to me,â she sighed, âIâm here because I care about you. Rafe and I, weâll always have our issuesâheâs stubborn, and he thinks he has all the answers. But thatâs our problem. Heâll never have a say over what I do or who Iâm there for. Especially not with this.â
You swallowed hard, âI donât want you to regret it.â
She gave a wry laugh, brushing a piece of hair back from your face. âYou donât have to protect me from him, remember? Heâs my brother, yeah, I love him despite all our shit, but Iâm not here for him right now. Iâm here for you.â
âYouâre sure?â you asked, the question a whisper, almost childlike. You were afraid of the answer, terrified sheâd eventually pull away.
âOf course Iâm sure,â she replied, tilting your chin so youâd meet her eyes. âWhateverâs going on with Rafe will figure itself outâBut right now, you need someone whoâs all in, no strings, no doubts. Thatâs me. You focus on you. Iâll handle him.â
You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, âI donât think he loves me anymore,â you admitted, almost hoping she wouldnât hear it, âI was so mean when your dad died.â
When you finally looked up, Sarah was watching you with a sad smile, one that made your heart hurt in both comfort and ache. âYou really believe that?â she asked quietly, and you could hear the disbelief in her voice as if it was so obvious to her, something you couldnât see.
You nodded, swallowing down the sting in your throat. âHe doesnât want me, not really. HeâsâŠhe pulled away. Like heâd rather hate me than be close to me. Heâs with her.âÂ
The words tasted bitter, and made you want to hurt him twice as bad, but there was finally some relief in saying it out loud.
She sighed, looking down for a second, almost like she was thinking how to tell you something that hurt her to admit.
âI donât think thatâs the problem,â she murmured, with a knowing sadness. âI think the problem is that you two will never stop loving each other. Heâs still hurting from dadâs passing, heâs angry because he doesnât know how to stop loving you. And youâyouâre here, angry that he loved my dad so much, hurt that he left, trying to protect me from him, still worrying about me when you should be focusing on yourself. Youâre scared he doesnât care anymore, and heâs scared you donât need him at all."
Your lips quivered, your heart about to leap out of your throat, your tongue darted out, briefly brushing your lips.
You werenât sure you should say it out loud, but maybe you had to. âWeâre better off without each other, arenât we?â
âYouâre allowed to be someone without him, and youâre allowed to find out who that is.â
You were slipping, falling back into that spiral of guilt and shame, the one that told you maybe this was all you were good for. Maybe Rafe was right to break things off, perhaps heâd realized that, in the end, you werenât worth fighting for.
And shit, you hated yourself for still caring. For still wanting him to want you, even though you knew it was poison. Even though you knew that being with him, needing him, was only dragging you both down.
âThank you.â
And as you sat there, in the stillness of that room, with the sunlight dimming outside, you felt that maybe someday youâd be able to trust yourself too. To believe that you were worth more than the heartache youâd come to accept as your own.
đ thinking about rafe who uses sex as a replacement for his coke addictionâŠ
rafe has known you forever. youâve stuck by him through some of his hardest times, through wards death, his coke addiction⊠so consequently, itâs no surprise when you two start dating.
and shockingly, for once in his life, rafe realizes he wants to be better. for you. for himself. so, with a lot of support from you, he quits doing drugs. coke specifically.
and itâs not easy. obviously. there are nights where he wakes up in a cold sweat, body trembling and his heart racing like he just did a couple lines, but he knows itâs just the withdrawals. and luckily for him, youâre always there for him.
in more ways than one.
sex. rafe found it was the only thing that distracted him from his once drug addled mind, the warm comfort of you wrapped around him enough to flood out any thoughts of needing coke.
in the mornings, in the afternoons. sometimes even when you were both asleep. heâd wake up, badly trembling, gasp escaping his lips and when he was sure that nothing could soothe the ache in his chest, you were right there.
soft, warm, the smell of your perfume lingering on your skin. the one rafe loved, the one you wore because you knew he loved it.
âbaby,â he murmured, his voice a raspy, gruff murmur, still not yet shaken from the confines of sleep. you hummed in response, body shifting, like you already knew what he needed. it was wordless permission in itselfâthe way you scooted your ass a little further so it nestled into his crotch, your mind still fuzzy with sleep, but awake enough to know what he needed.
and heâd oblige everytime, a soft breath of content leaving his lips, large hands massaging your hips gently as he toyed with the edges of your panties. he mouthed at your neck, warm soft kisses, hands easing your panties down to your mid thigh.
he was already flushed, leaking at the tip, his body begging for that sweet warmth only you could provide him.
and when he finally eased himself in, when both of your lips parted to release the softest of breaths, he felt safe. his nerves relaxed, his heart beat slowed. it felt safe. content.
he didnât move for a bit, just savored the warmth around his, pressing soft kisses to the side of your neck, murmured sweet nothings.
âso perfect,â he whispered in your ear, his kiss bitten lips brushing the cartilage of your earlobe, easing his hips a little higher, starting a steady rhythm that sent sparks of pleasure up both of your spines, yours fuzzy, and dull, his more consuming.
âyâfeel so good, baby.. ah, fuck..â he groaned low, hands holding your hips like a vice, the softest of whines escaping you, a symphony of noises filling the once silent space.
his orgasm always came fast, a tightening in his stomach, his hand wrapping around your torso, thumb rubbing circles onto your clit. and when you both were on your peak, about to fall off, heâd grab your jaw, pulling you into a messy kiss that was all teeth and tongue, spit mixing and making a lewd noise in the night.
it was later when he finally pulled out of you with a soft hiss, his body sensitive from his high, your breathing evening out as you rolled over, meeting rafe face first.
âfeel better?â you murmured, soft and comforting, hand reaching out to stroke his head, eyes half lidded and blurry with sleep.
he leant into your touch, arms wrapped around your body like he was afraid to let go, like if he did, heâd wake up from the same withdrawals and realize this was all a dream.
âwhen iâm with you?â he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, holding back a smile when your eyes fully shut. âalways, baby.â
summary: when you start a secret relationship with your best friend's brother, sneaking around becomes a second nature. until she starts getting suspicious.
pairing: bsf brother rafe x reader
tags: 18+ porn w/ plot (creampie, fingering, missionary), secret relationship / sneaking around, light angst (fear of being caught), language, suspicious sarah
w.c: 2.6k
The guest room always felt a little too polished, too pristine to be comfortable, but Sarah insisted on sleepovers, and you loved her too much to say no. Tonight was no different: popcorn bowls on the nightstand, nail polish scattered on the floor, a movie still flickering muted on the TV as Sarah drifted off mid-sentence. You lie there in the dark, wide awake. Not because of the coffee Sarah had made earlier, but because just down the hall, behind a closed door, was the real reason your heart pounded in your chest.
Your best friendâs older brother. The boy you had no business wanting, let alone sneaking around with. You glanced at Sarah; she was out cold, soft snores mixing with the hum of the AC. Carefully, you slid out of bed, the sheets whispering against your legs. Each creak of the floorboards felt like a gunshot, but you moved slowly, deliberate, tiptoeing past the door and down the hallway.
Rafeâs door opened without protest. He was waiting. Sitting on the edge of his bed, shirtless, wide awake, like he hadnât even tried to sleep. His eyes cut to you immediately, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. âKnew you wouldnât last the night,â he drawled, voice low so it wouldnât carry.
You shut the door softly behind you, leaning back against it, breath catching. âSarahâs asleep.â
âGood,â he said, standing and crossing the room until his chest brushed yours. âMeans I get to have you to myself.â
Your protest died before it could form. His hands found your hips, tugging you against him, and all the pent-up tension from the night. Watching him walk past Sarahâs room, brushing against him in the hall, pretending you didnât ache for his attention, you broke like a dam. âRafe,â you whispered, half-scolding, half-pleading.
He tilted his head, blue eyes gleaming. âWhat? Youâre the one sneakinâ out of my sisterâs sleepover.â His lips grazed yours, teasing. âGuess that makes you mine for the night.â
His mouth crashed onto yours, hungry, demanding, tasting faintly of whiskey. Your back hit the wall as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, one hand gripping your jaw to hold you there. His other hand roamed, slipping under your sleep shirt, dragging his rough palm up your stomach. You gasped softly into his mouth. âRafe-âŠSarah-â
âSheâs out cold,â he muttered, lips trailing hot against your neck. âOnly thing you gotta worry about is stayinâ quiet for me.â You shivered as he pressed you harder against the wall, grinding his hips into yours, his dick already hard through his sweats. He groaned low when your nails scraped down his back, and before you could blink, he had you lifted, legs around his waist, carried across the room like you weighed nothing.
He laid you out on his bed, caging you beneath him. The heat in his gaze made you squirm, thighs pressing together until he shoved his knee between them. âDonât hide from me, baby,â he teased, fingers hooking into your shorts to tug them down. âLet me see how bad you missed me.â
You bit your lip, trying to muffle the sound threatening to escape when his hand slid between your thighs, fingers brushing over your wetness. He cursed under his breath, leaning down to kiss you again, teeth scraping your bottom lip. âSo wet already,â he murmured, smirk tugging at his lips. âGuess you were thinkinâ about me the whole time you were with Sarah, huh?â
Your only answer was a needy whimper, which earned you his fingers slipping inside, curling just right, his thumb circling your clit. He worked you open, whispering filth in your ear, every word making it harder to keep your moans quiet. And when he finally pushed into you, slow, deep, stretching you until you were trembling beneath him, his forehead pressed against yours, his voice was a growl.
Every thrust was deliberate, controlled, and his hand clamped over your mouth whenever your cries got too loud. His pace quickened, his dirty praise and grunts mixing with your muffled moans until you were clawing at his back, begging for release. âCum for me,â he ordered, fucking you harder. âRight here, in my bed, while Sarahâs down the hall thinkinâ youâre asleep.â
And you did, falling apart beneath him, his name muffled against his shoulder while he fucked you through it, chasing his own release until he collapsed over you, both of you panting in the quiet of the dark. Rafe kissed you once more, softer this time, his grin smug as he brushed smeared lip gloss from your lips. âBetter sneak back before she wakes up,â he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek.
You crept back down the hallway, heart still racing, thighs still trembling. Every step felt louder than it was, and you swore you could still feel Rafeâs lips ghosting against your skin, his hands leaving phantom imprints on your body. The guest room door loomed ahead. Carefully, you eased it open, praying Sarah hadnât stirred. She was still curled under the blankets, but when you slipped back into bed, her sleepy voice made your stomach drop.
âWhereâd you go?â You froze mid-movement.
ââŠBathroom,â you whispered, forcing your voice even.
Sarah hummed, rolling over, eyes half-lidded. She didnât push, but the silence that followed wasnât the usual easy kind. You could feel her suspicion in the air. She turned back over and eventually her breathing evened out again, but your pulse didnât calm for a long while.
âËâčâïœĄđȘœïœĄâËâčâ
The next morning, you walked into the dining room with Sarah, trying your best to look rested. Ward was at the head of the table, reading the paper, while Rafe was already there, leaning back in his chair with a cup of coffee in hand. His eyes cut to you the moment you entered, a flicker of heat in his gaze before it softened into that infuriating half-smirk.
âMorning,â Ward greeted without looking up.
âMorning,â you and Sarah echoed, sliding into your seats.
You sat directly across from Rafe, doing your best not to look too eager about it. He didnât look away as you settled in, his stare lingering, burning. Sarah reached for the fruit bowl. âWe were up late,â she told her dad casually. âMovie marathon.â Ward just hummed, turning another page, but you felt Sarahâs quick glance in your direction again, sharp and searching.
âMmhm,â you added lightly, stabbing at your eggs. âDidnât get much sleep after all.â Rafeâs lip curved, the faintest twitch, like he was biting back a laugh only you would understand. Your stomach knotted at the sight, but instead of shrinking under it, you decided to push back.
When Wardâs attention dipped back to the paper, you slipped your foot out of your slipper and stretched it under the table. Slowly, deliberately, you dragged your toes up Rafeâs calf. His smirk faltered for the briefest second, coffee mug pausing midair. Then his jaw flexed, and his eyes locked on yours, sharp, warning, but full of promise.
Sarahâs fork clinked against her plate. âYou two areâŠawfully quiet,â she said slowly, studying Rafe, then you. âWeirdly quiet.â
Rafe cleared his throat, taking a long sip of coffee like it could hide the tension in his shoulders. âJust tired,â he said smoothly, though his voice was rougher than usual. Ward finally glanced up from the paper, eyes narrowing as if heâd just tuned in to the current running between you and his son.
Neither of them said anything outright. But you felt it, their suspicion, hanging in the air like smoke while your foot kept inching higher, tracing up Rafeâs thigh until his hand shot under the table to grip your ankle, holding you still. His eyes bore into yours, a silent warning flashing in the blue. You bit down on your lip to keep from smiling.
The silence at the table felt like it was made of glass, thin, brittle, ready to shatter at the slightest touch. Rafe hadnât let go of your ankle. His grip was tight under the table, fingers firm around your skin as if daring you to keep pushing him. Your foot stayed pressed against his thigh, your lips twitching as you fought a smile while you buttered a piece of toast like nothing was happening.
Ward sipped his coffee, pretending to focus on the paper, but every so often his eyes flicked between the two of you. Sharp. Calculating. Sarah was the first to speak again, fork scraping against her plate. âSo,â she started, casually, but her tone carried weight. âI was thinking we could go out today. Maybe shop, maybe hit the beach. Girlsâ day.â
You nodded quickly, grateful for the easy cover. âYeah, that sounds perfect.â
Rafeâs mug clinked a little too hard against the table as he set it down. âWhere?â Both you and Sarah glanced up at him.
âWhat?â Sarah asked, brow arched.
Rafe leaned back in his chair, trying for nonchalant, but his eyes were locked on you, not her. âJustâŠasking where youâre going.â
Sarah tilted her head, studying him with that intuition that always saw too much. âYouâve never cared before.â
Rafe shrugged, lifting his mug again to cover the faint twitch in his jaw. âMaybe I do now.â
Ward folded his paper neatly, placing it on the table. âSince when do you keep track of your sisterâs plans?â His tone wasnât accusing, but it wasnât light either.
The silence that followed made your pulse trip. You tried to save him, laughing softly, âMaybe heâs just worried weâll max out his credit card again.â
Sarah cracked a smile at that, rolling her eyes. âPlease, like Rafe even looks at statements.â
Ward grunted in agreement and went back to his breakfast, but the moment had already hung too long. You dared a glance at Rafe. His eyes were on you, sharp, heated, saying everything he couldnât with Sarah and Ward right there. You pressed your foot up his thigh again, higher this time. His fingers dug into your ankle, hard enough to leave marks.
âCareful,â he mouthed across the table, his smirk faint but dangerous. Sarah caught the little exchange of looks, her brow furrowing just slightly as she reached for her juice. She didnât say anything, but the suspicion in her gaze lingered longer than before.
The morning tension clung to you like a second skin, even as you and Sarah packed beach towels and sunscreen into her tote bag. You told yourself to breathe, to relax, no one suspected anything. At least, not fully. The drive to the beach was easy enough, Sarah rambling about outfits and playlists. But you couldnât shake the way Rafe had nearly slipped earlier, his voice just a little too sharp when he asked about your plans.
When you pulled up, the beach was already buzzing with familiar faces. Sarah waved at Topper and Kelce, who were setting up near a cooler. And right next to them, Rafe. Your chest tightened. He was lounging back in a chair, sunglasses on, beer in hand, but the second he spotted you, his posture shifted. He straightened ever so slightly, eyes following you as if youâd been the one he was waiting for.
You pretended not to notice, spreading your towel out beside Sarahâs. But you felt it in his gaze, heavy and insistent, tracing over you every time you moved. Adjusting your bikini strap, reaching into the bag, tucking your hair behind your ear. Sarah noticed too.
âOkayâŠâ she said slowly, flopping onto her towel beside you. âIs it just me, or is Rafe looking at you weird?â
You froze mid-reach for the sunscreen. ââŠWeird how?â
âLikeâŠâ She lowered her sunglasses, squinting toward him. âLike he has a crush on you.â
Your laugh came out too fast, too airy. âRafe? No way. He probably doesnât.â
Sarah tilted her head, still watching him. âThen why do you think he keeps looking over here?â
You smoothed your towel, avoiding her eyes. âI donât know. Maybe heâs just zoning out. Why would you even think that?â
She shrugged, settling back against her bag, but her voice was casual in that suspicious Cameron way. âBecause heâs never paid this much attention to any of my friends before.â
Your stomach knotted, heat rising to your ears. Across the sand, Rafe tilted his beer back, but his sunglasses never shifted away from you. You busied yourself with sunscreen, hoping Sarah wouldnât press further. But the seed had been planted, and judging by the sly curiosity in her tone, she wasnât going to let it go so easily.
The afternoon sun baked into your skin, the waves crashing in a steady rhythm. Sarah was chatting with Kelce about some upcoming party, but your nerves were wound tight; every time you glanced up, you found Rafeâs sunglasses fixed on you. You couldnât take it anymore. Grabbing your bag, you muttered to Sarah, âGonna hit the bar, want anything?â
âJust water,â she said absently, not even looking up. You walked up the sandy path toward the little bar shack near the parking lot, pretending like you didnât know he was already following. The second you rounded the corner to a quieter stretch, you felt the heavy presence at your back. His hand snagged your wrist, tugging you behind the shack where no one could see.
âRafe,â you hissed, jerking your hand free. âAre you insane? Sarahâs watching us like a hawk.â
He crowded closer, towering over you, his chest brushing yours. âSo? Let her watch.â
You swallowed hard, shaking your head. âYouâre making it obvious. She literally said she thinks you have a crush on me.â
His jaw ticked, and then he let out a low laugh, dark and humorless. âA crush? She has no idea.â His sunglasses slipped down the bridge of his nose, eyes boring into yours. âI mean, why the fuck are we sneaking around anyway? We can do what we want.â The reckless fire in his voice made your heart lurch.
âRafe-â
He cut you off by cupping your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek like he owned you. âI donât care if she finds out. I donât care if Ward finds out. Iâm not hiding you.â
Your breath caught, torn between fear and the rush of adrenaline he always brought out in you. âYou donât get it. If Sarah finds out, sheâll never forgive me. I've been friends with her way longer than we've beenâŠyou know.â
âThen she doesnât have to know,â he said roughly, leaning in until his lips grazed yours. âBut stop looking at me like that in front of everyone if you donât want me to lose it.â The kiss hit before you could respond was hard, hungry, desperate. You melted against him, the taste of salt and sun dizzying you, his hands gripping your hips like he was staking a claim.
When you finally broke away, breathless, you pressed a shaky hand to his chest. âWe should get back. Before someone notices.â
He smirked, brushing his thumb across your lower lip. âFine. But this-â he tilted his head, eyes blazing â-isnât over. Not by a long shot.â You straightened your bikini top, forcing your pulse to calm as you stepped back into the sunlight. Sarah was still sprawled on the towel, sunglasses over her eyes, but you swore her head turned just slightly when you walked up.
âWhereâs my water?â she asked.
You froze, heat crawling up your neck. ââŠLine was too long,â you lied, dropping down onto your towel.
From across the sand, Rafe collapsed back into his chair, beer in hand, smirk carved into his face like a secret only the two of you shared. And for the first time, you realized maybe he was right. Maybe sneaking around wasnât enough anymore.
youâve got toji leaning back against the couch, legs spread wide, and at first heâs smug about it â big hand tangled in your hair while you work his cock, his voice nothing but grunts and low curses.
âyeah⊠just like that, fuckâgood girl.â his abs tense when you swallow him deeper, spit glistening down his shaft. his head tips back, eyes half-lidded, completely in control.
but then your mouth leaves his cock, lips sliding down past his balls, and his muscles twitch like heâs been shocked.
âthe hell are you doinâ?â his voice is sharp, but thereâs a hitch to it when your tongue drags lower. âoi, quit fuckinâ around, get back on my cock.â
you glance up at him, smirking, before pressing your tongue right against his rim.
he jerks, one hand gripping the couch so hard it creaks. âwhat theâshitâhey, cut it out,â he growls, but his thighs are already trembling, betraying him.
you lick again, slow and deliberate, and his head tips back against the cushions. a broken groan escapes him before he can swallow it down.
âfuck⊠youâfuck, donâtââ his words crumble into ragged breaths, hips shifting like he canât decide whether to pull away or grind against your mouth.
you spread him wider and spit, the slick sound obscene before your tongue slides over him again, firmer this time, teasing circles that make his cock kick against his stomach.
âjesus fuckâthis isânghh, this is wrong,â he mutters, but he doesnât move, thighs locked open, voice cracking when you push your tongue in deeper.
his hand comes down to cover his face, but you can see the flush creeping down his throat, the way his chest heaves. ân-noâmnghfmâdonâtâdonât do that, not thereâi canât take thatââ
you push deeper and he gasps, the sound embarrassingly high, his cock slapping against his stomach as it leaks.
âhahhhâfuck, iâm seriousâdonât make meââ he breaks off with a whine when your tongue drags circles around his rim, body jolting. âoh god, iâmâfuck, iâm gonnaâfuck, noââ
and despite his muttered curses and the way he tries to cover his face with his arm, his cock twitches hard against his stomach, leaking steady, every muscle in his body betraying just how much he canât get enough of it.
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Summary â You and Rafe were the perfect couple. But after a mysterious breakup, you went off the grid. When your best friends pulls you back into the spotlight to host a on-campus radio show, you find yourself opening up to the world about your experience. This time, with everyone listeningâincluding Rafe. And him? He wants you back.
Content â college au, football player!rafe au
Navigation â Part 74 | Part 75
HEARTBREAK: LIVE | THE END
IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).
Summary â You and Rafe were the perfect couple. But after a mysterious breakup, you went off the grid. When your best friends pulls you back into the spotlight to host a on-campus radio show, you find yourself opening up to the world about your experience. This time, with everyone listeningâincluding Rafe. And him? He wants you back.
Content â college au, football player!rafe au
Navigation â Part 71 | Part 72 | Part 73
IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).
Summary â You and Rafe were the perfect couple. But after a mysterious breakup, you went off the grid. When your best friends pulls you back into the spotlight to host a on-campus radio show, you find yourself opening up to the world about your experience. This time, with everyone listeningâincluding Rafe. And him? He wants you back.
Content â college au, football player!rafe au
Navigation â Part 70 | Part 71 | Part 72
IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).
Summary â You and Rafe were the perfect couple. But after a mysterious breakup, you went off the grid. When your best friends pulls you back into the spotlight to host a on-campus radio show, you find yourself opening up to the world about your experience. This time, with everyone listeningâincluding Rafe. And him? He wants you back.
Content â college au, football player!rafe au
Navigation â Part 03 | Part 04 | Part 05
IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).
CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE ON MY KNEES WRITE ABOUT BITCHY!READER X RAFE AND IT'S SMUT?? I FEEL LIKE YOU'LL DO IT JUSTICE!!! thank you
you literally read my mind because i was just thinking of this prompt that works so well with bitchy!reader!! hope you'll enjoy <3 (if itâs bad, look away!!)
WHATEVER SHE WANTS | Rafe Cameron
MASTERLIST (Oneshot)
Pairing â Rafe x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader
Content â 18+, power/dominance play, p in v, doggy style, orgasm denial, and dirty talks
Word Count â 2.2K
lıllılı Whatever She Wants by Bryson Tiller
You always wanted Rafe.
It's your right. Since you were a child, you demanded the best in everythingâtoys, clothes, boyfriends. They had to be perfect. Had to be yours. And yes, it may come off a little superficial but who cares? It's what you deserve, and it'll be hell if you don't get it.
Since the first look, when you caught Rafe lounging on a chair with his friends, tipping the rim of his beer onto his lips, while his eyes scanned over the room in an attractive lazy way, you knew you had to have him. It didn't help that you were competitive, and Rafe garnered attention with women. They flocked to him and begged for a minute of his time. It became a game to you, and that heightened your need.
Everything was calculated. The makeup you wore, the outfits you curated, the glances. You always timed your arrivalsâwhen you knew Rafe would be watching the doorâand marked your exits. You knew exactly what to wearâdresses that tantalizing exposes your ass, but only as a previewâand the cosmetic style he liked. Rafe's the type of man who believes he wants a bare-faced woman, but truly, he wants something natural that enhances your features.
You came with friends. You left alone. You drank enough to loosen your nerves and danced with the crowd, but not enough to make a fool of yourself. You knew your tolerance and knew Rafe didn't like a messy girl.
At least, in public.
You caught his gaze a couple of times, flashing a flirtatious smile over your shoulders, but never lingered longer than three seconds. Rafe can't know how easy he can have you, because Rafe, like most boys, loves a chase. You're not easy, you're spoiled. He had to come to you.
And he did.
Rafe tried to introduce himself on several occasions. On those nights when you're leaving earlyâas plannedâRafe would cut to the door to pay a parting remark. "You're leaving so soon?" he would ask, "Alone? Again?" He would add. You always told him it was because no one caught your eye, and Rafe took that as a personal challenge. He would then try to tell you his name, as if he were different, to which you nodâdetachedâas if it didn't matter.
It drove him insane.
Because you didn't offer the same courtesy. You kept him guessing. He had to finally ask around to learn your name, which he would use to tease you the next time he saw you. And he did. And you laughed. But you acted like you didn't care. Like all the trouble he went through didn't prove a thing. That's when Rafe knew he needed you.
Tonight's no different. Just as you're about to leave, Rafe catches you with another smooth pick-up line. You just giggle. He studies how your eyes crinkle with amusement, the curve of your lips painted in his favorite shade of lipstick, and the lithe tilt of your head to the side as you ask him with your gaze, is that the best you got?
It isn't. But Rafe's determined to get further with you tonight. He continues to talk, asking about which men disappointed you and the reasons for your constant disappearances from these parties. And, for once, you're answering his questions with little resistance. Perhaps, it's because of the amount of cheap wines you consumed, or maybe youâfor onceâare tired of the games and want it to come to a fruitful end. Because when Rafe finally asks to take you home, you don't say no.
The walk to his truck is brisk. His arm wrapped around your waist, directing your path, while his fingers trail over the backless cut of your dress, producing a buzzing feeling beneath your skin. He's whispering something in your ear, but all of it is incomprehensible as you revel in the feeling of his touch and his touch alone. The feeling of your game coming to a conclusion.
And, just as you're about to reach the car, Rafe slams you into the side of the vehicle with a searing kiss.
His mouth catches yours and everything feels perfect. As if the buildup leading to this precise moment had been worth it, and every needy emotion rises to the top. His hand travels down the length of your body, to your hips, pulling you closer, and needing to eliminate all the space and wait you made him do.
Rafe's movements are swift and controlled. One of his hands props open the backdoor of his car, pushing you inside, and laying you against his leather seats. All without breaking the kiss.
"You don't know how long I wanted this, wanted you," Rafe blubbers between wet kisses. "Seeing you at every party, in these tiny dresses, not being able to touch," he rasps, bundling the hem of your dress into a tight fist. "Tell me you wear them for me."
"And if I did?" You say with a moan, tipping your head back to grant him access to your neck. "Did you like them?"
"Of course I did," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, the vibration of his words sending heat straight to your core. "You dressing up for me like my own perfect doll."
You want to retort that it's him who's in the palm of your hand, but Rafe sucks on a sensitive spot, causing your eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape your lips instead. He grabs your wrists with one hand, throwing them over his shoulder as he pulls you flush against his chest.
"So pretty, so fucking untouchable," Rafe kisses down the length of your throat, his fingers collecting the spaghetti straps of your dress before sliding it down the slope of your shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you so good."
His words snap you out of your haze. And while Rafe continues to expose more of your body, lamenting each reveal of flesh with a kiss, you withdraw enough to grab his attention.
"You're not fucking me in a car."
"What?" Rafe breaths, unable to snap out of the trace you had him in. Delirious with want, his mind warped around the idea of you being so close to attainable, that all rational manners left his system. He tries to kiss you again, to resume the moment, but you pull enough to send him a deadly glare, pouty and spoiled.
"Rafe, take me somewhere nice or we're not fucking at all."
He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe he's contemplating it. But Rafe doesn't understand that you have it all planned out to result in a perfect moment. You won't let it be disrupted just because Rafe can't drive the extra mile to take you somewhere nice. You'd rather leave him with blue balls.
"Are you serious?" He asks slowly, his eyes drawn to your swollen lips, the little pout, and the desperation to have them back on his. Sure, Rafe's had girls who wanted something more than a casual fling. He had them ask him for a better spot, but he never obliged. He never cared. But you're different. He wants you, and it's been a hell of a chase to get you here. He'll be damned if he lets it slip away because of a pretentious standard.
"Does it look like I'm joking?" You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts further up. He nearly groans at the sight. "We're not having sex here."
"The nearest place has to be at least a fifteen-minute drive," Rafe argues. And it makes you upset, brows pinched together. "We can justâ"
"I don't care," you snap. "Take me somewhere nice or I'm leaving."
You're serious. He sees it on your face. Rafe can't risk that, despite wanting to protest, because he knows he if he messes this up, he won't have another chance. Swearing under his breath, he drags himself out of the backseat and into the driver's side, pulling the car out of the parking lot.
Dangerously, Rafe speeds down the road, while you're sitting in the backseat with a self-satisfied demeanor, fixing your makeup through the rearview mirror. Occasionally, Rafe spares a glance through the same reflection, connecting with your gaze, and while there's subtle bitterness coiled in his chest, he recognizes the bigger prize at hand.
And what he can do with it.
Because, despite your bratty attitude, Rafe is a person who wants control. You want perfection. You two can have both.
That's how you find yourself in a newly-booked penthouse suite at one of the bougie hotels in Kildare, your head digging into the soft comforter of the bed, your ass in the air, as Rafe drills into you from behind.
When you reached the room, everything moved frantically. Rafe slammed you against the nearest wall to kiss you againâneeding your lips, needing your tasteâwhile his hands roamed over your dress and pulled down your cleavage, revealing your tits. Your hands wandered down his pants, unbuttoning them hurriedly, needily, and he assisted you by pulling them off alongside his boxers. His cock was big, slightly red with a pearly bead of pre-cum that rolls off the tip. And you could tell by the look on Rafe's face that he wanted you to suck it.
But you told him, "I don't do blowjobs."
So fucking pretentious.
It didn't matter. He hauled you over to the king-sized bed and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed with a soft thump, while Rafe hauled you up to your ass, pushing up your dress, until it became nothing but a bundle around your waist. His movements were urgent, and he wantedâno, neededâto be inside you because a bratty girl was going to be a great fuck.
And he was right.
You're perfect. The way you wrap around him, the way he sinks inside you. He doesn't know if it's because of the delirium of wanting you so desperately, of chasing you for so longâbut he never had better pussy. And it doesn't help that your moans are sweet, breathy, and loudâbegging him to go faster.
"Such a pretentious brat," Rafe grabs your throat, hauling you upwards till your spine rest on his chest, airway constricted by his harsh grip. "Making me wait this fucking long."
"RâRafe," you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the way he's angling his cock deep into your cervix, bullying the sensitive spot over and over again until you're seeing stars.
"Had to get the princess treatment, did you?" He murmurs hotly into your ear, nibbling a spot on your neck as you rest the back of your head on his shoulder. His thrusts grow more erratic. "Had to make me earn you, didn't you?"
"You weren't going to fuck me in a car," you persist, and despite how cockdrunk you became, and how much of an attitude you're willing to sacrifice to feel good, you were still adamant about receiving what you deemed enough. He respected that. "I'm not one of your whores."
"But I'm fucking you like my own personal slut. Is that any better?" He bites the lobe of your ear, and his other hand wanders up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing the fat before rolling your perked nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. "What does that make you?"
You can't seem to answer him, can't seem to find your senses. The words Rafe uses are vulgar, but thereâs still no regrets about this entire thing. Rafe wanted you so badly, that he was willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a hotel he probably won't even stay the night in. All because you demanded it.
You win.
"Shut up," you stammer, your stomach tightening. "Shut up and just fuck me, Rafe."
Rafe grins. The hand playing with your tits slips between your thighs to assist, finding your clit easily as he rubs it with his thumb in sync with his thrusts. Breathy moans escape you as you arch into his palm, while he pistons deeper inside of you, bottoming out.
"You sound so pretty, doll," Rafe murmurs against your heated skin, "Come on, take my fucking cock."
Everythingâs so dirty. The way he handles you, the way your wetness drips down your thighs, the way his words breathe onto your skin and tighten your core. But you love it. You do, but you're not willing to give in so easily. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much he feels like a prize.
"You don't deserve me." You whisper with a mewl, body tightening with the familiar wave of your undoing.
Yet, Rafe merely grins.
"But you're sucking in my cock like you need me," Rafe taunts, pleasure coursing through his body at the way your walls grip him in a vice. The way your words spark challenge and invitation. He knows, despite your spoiled attitude and pretentious demands, he'll do anything to get another chance like this. "Now, behave like a good girl or you're not coming tonight."
IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!
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toji can't help but have a thing for fucking you with his clothes on Û¶à§
the post-mission quickie. heâs still in his black tactical pants, the ones that make his thighs look like they could crush a manâs skull, and he smells like night air and a faint, coppery hint of blood. he doesnât even say hello, just crowds you against the front door the second itâs closed, his mouth hot and desperate on yours. "missed you so much," he grunts against your lips, his hands already fumbling with his zipper. "need to be inside you so bad." you feel the cool metal of the zipper teeth against your stomach as he yanks his cock out, thick and heavy and already leaking for you. he doesnât bother with your clothes either, just shoves your panties to the side and slams into you with a ragged groan, fucking you right there in the entryway with his pants around his thighs and his boots still on. "fuck, so good for me," he pants, his forehead dropped to your shoulder, hips pistoning. "my good girl, my wife."
waking up to him already hard and rutting against your ass, the rough fabric of his sweatpants creating a delicious friction. his arm is a dead weight around your waist, holding you close. "m'sorry, baby," he mumbles into your neck, voice thick with sleep, but he doesn't stop the slow, rolling grind of his hips. "you feel too good, can't help it." you arch back into him with a soft sigh, and that's all the permission he needs. he just tugs the waistband of his sweats and your panties down just enough, his thick, uncut cock sliding easily through your wetness before heâs pushing inside, filling you up in one smooth, lazy thrust. he takes his time like this, half-asleep and sweet, rocking into you slowly while he nuzzles your shoulder. "love you so much," he slurs, his voice barely a whisper. "love bein' yours."
a lazy afternoon on the couch, youâre curled into his side watching some movie heâs not paying attention to. his hand is under your shirt, calloused thumb rubbing slow circles over your nipple until youâre squirming. "toji," you whine, and he just smirks, that lazy, predatory grin that makes your stomach flip. "what, baby? need somethin'?" he manhandles you until you're straddling his lap, his jeans still firmly on. he unbuttons his fly with one hand, the other guiding your hips down onto him, a low, satisfied groan rumbling in his chest as you sink onto his length. "that's it," he encourages, hands on your ass, helping you move. "ride me just like that, wanna see your pretty face while you take my cock."
heâs cooking dinner, shirtless but still wearing a pair of old, soft jeans that are worn thin in all the right places. you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to the scars on his back. he hums, leaning back into you. your hands drift lower, palming the obvious bulge in his jeans. he lets out a sharp hiss. "the hell, woman? tryna make me burn our food?" but heâs already turning off the stove, spinning around to lift you onto the kitchen counter. he doesnât undo his jeans, just yanks them down his hips enough to free himself, his cock springing out, hot and hard against your stomach. "gonna fuck you right here," he growls, pushing your thighs apart. "gonna make you scream so loud the neighbors know you're mine."
after a stupid argument, the kind thatâs all heated words and frustration. heâs pacing like a caged animal, and youâre fuming on the bed. suddenly he stops, his dark eyes locking on you. all the anger seems to drain out of him, replaced by a raw, aching need. "c'mere," he says, voice rough. "please." when you don't move, he crosses the room and falls to his knees, burying his face in your lap. "i'm an idiot, a fuckin' idiot. need you to forgive me." his fingers are clumsy as he undoes his belt and zipper, desperate to connect, to feel you. he fucks up into you from his knees on the floor, his pants still on, his face pressed against your belly, whispering apologies and worship against your skin. "so perfect, my perfect wife. i don't deserve you."
heâs just gotten out of the shower, wearing a wet shirt with a towel hanging low on his hips, his hair dripping. youâre brushing your teeth, and he comes up behind you, catching your eye in the mirror. his hands slide around your waist, dipping beneath your sleep shirt. heâs hard against your back. "toji, i'm busy," you mumble around your toothbrush, but youâre already leaning into him. he just grins, that wicked, boyish smile, and lets the towel drop. he turns you around, lifts you onto the sink, and pushes into you, the cold porcelain a shock against your skin. "i'll be quick," he promises, sucking a bruise into your neck as he moves. "just need a taste."
and sometimes, when heâs feeling particularly soft and whipped, heâll let you take the lead. heâll lay back on the bed, fully clothed, and watch you with heavy-lidded eyes as you unbuckle his belt with trembling fingers. "go on," he murmurs, voice soft. "take what you need, baby." you unzip his jeans, freeing him, and sink down onto him, both of you still mostly dressed. he lets you set the pace, his big hands resting gently on your hips, his gaze full of so much adoration it makes your chest ache. "look at you," he breathes, reaching up to thumb away a stray tear from your eye. "so beautiful on my cock, all mine. my pretty little wife" and he means it, every word.
a/n: i knowww it's not really smut but i can't help but be so obsessed with soft husband toji !@#$%^&
⥠when youâre so wet that rafe keeps slipping out..
warnings: making out, heavy petting, dry humping (not really, itâs pretty messy), finger sucking, cockwarming (?), unprotected sex, praise, teasing, rafe being super pussy drunk, belly bulge, size kink, biting, slight dacryphilia
âfuck, look at those hips..â rafe pulled away from your lips, a string of saliva still connecting you two as he dragged you up and down his lap, his large palms enveloping the soft globes of your ass. with shaky hands, you held onto his shoulders as you rocked on top of him, your panties drenched with your arousal. âneedâ you, ray..â you whimpered, âplease.â rafe pressed a trail of sloppy kisses across your collarbone, his tongue licking a stripe up the column of your throat as your eyes fluttered shut.
he navigated your body like it was the back of his hand, his skillful touch turning you into putty. rafe could feel your heat through his boxers, the soaked fabric making him groan as his hardened cock strained against the material. âiâll give it you, baby, donât worry,â he landed a harsh smack to your ass, ripping a yelp from your lips, âwet those fingers for me.â rafe could only imagine how slippery your cunt would feel swallowing him whole, your slick alone already making you glide easily on top of the layers separating you two from full penetration.
giggling softly, rafe watched as your hand disappeared underneath the waistband of your panties, his breath hitching once you held up your fingers, a pool of your sticky succulence glistening underneath the dim light. knowing that he was the one to make you like this made him twitch with need, his hand wrapping around your wrist as he brought your digits to his mouth. with a baited breath, you gasped softly when he took your juices on his tongue, the man in front of you moaning at the taste.
no matter how many times rafe found his head between your thighs, he could never get used to how intoxicating you were, all of his senses and primal instincts honing in on fucking you stupid. without wasting another second, rafe was quick to take himself out of his boxers, a hiss leaving his lips as his length smacked against your tummy. peeling back the lace material of your underwear, he slid them down your legs until he caught sight of the absolute mess between your thighs.
laying you down on your back, rafe brought your knees up to your chest, using one hand to press on your lower abdomen and the other to guide himself between your folds. he was so hard, he had to use his thumb to keep the tip of his cock down so he could enter your needy cunt. he marveled at the size difference, the head of his length stopping just below your belly button. âfuck, iâm gonna wreck you..â he trailed off, toying with your clit before slipping inside, filling you up inch by inch until you were crying out in both pleasure and pain.
with the hand that he had on your stomach, he guided your own over the budge in your tummy, your eyes widening slightly as he started thrusting into you at a steady pace. âyou feel that? âfeel the way my cock fills you up to the fucking brim?â your eyes rolled back at the same time you whined out a âf-fuck, yes!â into your palm. your walls stretched deliciously around the the welcomed intrusion that was his length, your pussy clenching around him for all that he had. the sounds falling from your lips were nothing short of pornographic, the moans and choked sobs only pushing rafe closer to the edge.
he sped up until his skin was slapping against your own, your back arching off of the bed when he slipped out and stroked your clit with the underside of his cock. you shrieked at the sensation, your legs trembling in sensitivity. âtoo much..â you shook your head, bringing your legs down to wrap around his waist instead. rafe groaned, your slick dripping down his length as he tapped your glossy folds. âyouâre so fucking wet, iâm slipping right out,â he grunted, âthis is what i do to you, âpretty girl?â he leaned down, nipping the sensitive part of your neck.
he kept himself nestled inside of you for a few moments, letting you revel in being so utterly full. you gave him an approving hum, your nails digging into his skin as he bit you softly across your collarbone. starting up his thrusts again, he slipped out as soon as he picked up the pace, the action making him curse under his breath. your eyes watered in frustration, your bottom lip pulled tightly between your teeth. rafe saw your tears, the sight shooting straight to his cock. he loved seeing how delirious he made you, his chest filling up with pride as you looked up at him with that fucked-out gaze.
soon after he continued, your high was hitting you in intense waves, the coil in the pit of your stomach snapping in two as rafe watched your eyebrows knit together, the added mess between your thighs only making his hips stutter with his own climax painting your walls. ârafe!â you screamed in his ear, his thumb slipping between your lips for you to bite down on while he twitched and convulsed inside of you. a shiver ran down his back as he caged you tightly between his arms, his seed spilling out of you as you both went through the aftershocks of your orgasms.
once you were okay, rafe pressed a kiss to your lips, stroking the side of your face before rolling over to your side. âwhatâs your ring size?â he sighed, pulling you against his chest. you laughed softly, slightly confused at the words that left his mouth. âwhy?â rafeâs chest was rising and falling as he glanced down at you, meeting your eyes. âare you kidding me? i need to lock this pussy down. like tonight.â