“grind up against me— yeah, that’s my girl…” he murmurs, his gaze never wavering from yours aside from the occasional time he can’t help but glance down at where the two of you are so intimately connected. “fuck.” his hips quiver momentarily before he manages to pull himself together again, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “look what you’re doing t’me.”

the skin of his chest drags up against your pebbled nipples with each move of his hips, making you gasp and giggle breathlessly. pleasure licks at the bases of both of your spines, mounting with every moment that passes, and rafe can tell you’re close. he lowers his head to take one of your tits into his mouth, sucking and licking in a way he knows has you unraveling in seconds. “r-rafe— shit!” you cry out, your toes curling and your legs beginning to shake.

“come f’me, baby. please.” he mumbles against your skin, his mouth becoming more and more uncoordinated as his own climax draws closer. you do exactly as he says, the strength of it having you seeing white behind your rolled-back eyes. “yes, yeah, fuckkk… good girl.” he draws back his head to watch your expression as you spiral, his pupils blown wide and his lips parted as though in a sort of trance. “good job, baby.”

when you’ve more or less come down again, he speeds his thrusts back up, desperate to reach the edge as well. “gonna fill you up.” he’s talking more to himself than you now, too entranced with the pleasure tingling across his skin to focus properly on what he’s saying. “gonna fill you up so fuckin’ good, baby.”

he can feel himself teetering on the edge, barely hanging on by a thread, and he knows he won’t be able to control himself much longer. “gonna put my baby inside you. know you want it too.” the sweat gathering at his hairline catches the moonlight that shines in through the gap in the curtains, and when his balls draw up, he knows that he’s almost there.

strained whimpers tumble from his lips now as his cock twitches within your walls, his head buried in the crook of your neck as he pumps you full of his seed. “milk me, mhm, please.. shit.” he murmurs against your shoulder, body twitching and eyebrows furrowed. once he’s recovered somewhat, he lets go of your legs and sits back on his knees, staring down at you with wide eyes. when he pulls out, he can’t help but stare at the way his release leaks out of you, the sight sending a jolt of pride through him. “you’re so beautiful, baby.” he soon unties you and pulls you into his arms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, mainly about how pretty you’ll look when swollen with his child.

you’re on your hands and knees, the warm soapy water just below your elbows, and your head tilted forward between your shoulders, trying to ignore the hundreds of thoughts swirling around in your head in favour of feeling the way his cock drags against your spongy walls with every drag of his hips. it’s futile though — your mind is too focused on everything that’s been going on in your life lately. you’ve tried to occupy yourself with other things, like getting through your seemingly endless pile of laundry, but nothing seems to work.

jack can tell you’re not really here in the moment with him, and it breaks his heart a little to see you like this. he’s tried to assure you as best as he can, to do everything he thinks will make you feel better, but none of it really helps like he’d hoped. “hey, you with me?” he asks, his hand running up and down your back to try and get your attention. you hum absently, blinking to snap yourself out of your reverie and adjusting your position in front of him.

“i’m always here for you, y’know.” his words make your chest a little tighter, and you glance over your shoulder to get a better look at him. the low candlelight paints a dream-like hue across his face, making him look even softer than he does usually. “i know.” when he lifts an eyebrow as if to say ‘are you sure?’, you can’t help but giggle, “i know, jack.”

he nods and continues to thrust into you, the hand on your shoulder moving down to play with your clit, the added stimulation making you tighten around him. he grunts and adjusts his grip on your hip, using it to pull you back onto him with a little more force than before. “i’m here, i’m right here...” he repeats like a mantra, each word in time with the movement of his hips. your eyes are squeezed shut and your toes are curled as that familiar feeling in your abdomen begins to make itself known, and you can tell that he’s close, too.

“i love you so much, baby.” he mutters, his voice strained, before he finally bottoms out and spills his load into you, hands shooting out to grip the sides of the bathtub to keep himself upright. your release follows soon after, and you’re able to enjoy it better now that your mind is more than fractionally focused on him. “i love you too.”

after a moment, he leans back on his heels and pulls you with him, your back pressed against his chest and your head resting on his shoulder. his fingers rest just under your tits, skimming the underside of them with absent reverence as he trails his lips up the side of your neck. “you’ll always be my girl.” he mumbles against your skin, and for a brief moment, your mind seems to somewhat quieten.

it’s raining hard for an early evening in may, and rafe has been sat in his car for over an hour now. the windows have begun to steam up, so much so that he keeps having to wipe the condensation away to make sure that he can properly seen across the street to make sure you get home safe. you were supposed to arrive home an hour ago, as you do every day. he’s worried that something has happened to you. his leg bounces impatiently, rocking the car with it, as his eyes scan the parking lot. your audi still hasn’t parked in its usual spot (about ten feet from the front doors, if he remembers correctly).

a few more minutes pass, and rafe can’t handle not knowing where you are anymore. he grabs his phone and first opens instagram to see if you’ve added to your story or posted or even shared your location. nothing. next, he checks twitter. still nothing. his grip around is phone tightens, his knuckles whitening his skin and his jaw clenching as his stomach tightens uncomfortably. where the fuck are you?

he debates going inside and asking your neighbours whether or not they’ve heard anything, whether you’ve told them anything. the risk of you finding out a guy you don’t know is asking after your location puts him off, though. against his better judgement, he unlocks his car and pushes the door open, the rain falling in heavy sheets across his face. he knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t not know. just as he’s about to make a beeline for the building’s front doors, a familiar car pulls into the parking lot and into its designated spot. he feels his shoulders relax in relief, but quickly remembers himself and slides back into his car.

he watches through hooded eyes as you get out of your car and retrieve your bags from the backseat, your hair pushed up out of your face and your cheeks flushed. he wonders whether something happened at work today. there’s a bounce in your step that’s not usually there, and your mouth is pulled up into a less-than-casual smile. jealously curls low and relentless in rafe’s chest; what if you’ve met someone?

he tries not to dwell on that thought for very long in favour of staring unabashedly at your ass as you walk into the apartment building, fingers absentmindedly playing with his bottom lip. he watches through the window as you step into the elevator, his leg finally stilling once the doors shut behind you. at least now he knows that you’re safe. but what if you really have met somebody? the thought makes him feel sick.

the idea of it seems to churn around in his mind, worsening the longer he sits there not doing anything, and after a few more minutes, he can’t stand the volume of it anymore. it’s a rash decision, a stupid one, but that certainly doesn’t stop him. he gets out of his car and starts after you, his pace controlled and stiff to try and appear normal. he feels anything but right now.

he takes the stairs, not wanting to use the elevator in case he runs into someone or even bumps into you. he knows not many people use the stairs here, anyway. when he’s actually stood in front of your door, he hesitates — he’s never been in your apartment while you’re there, too. he’s always thought it to be too risky. he knows he can’t stop himself, though.

he fishes the copy of your key that he’d made from the spare one you used to leave under the doormat from his pocket. that was until your neighbour warned you of the dangers of doing something so foolish. you’d told her that you’re forgetful, and often misplace your keys, to which she’d suggested keeping one for you, just in case. rafe had heard the whole conversation whilst sat in the stairwell and had silently cursed the old pensioner for being so smart. not that it mattered anyway, he’d had his own copy for a month before that already.

slowly, he inserts the key and unlocks the door, holding his breath as he does so. as carefully as he can manage, he pushes open the door a little and peeks inside to make sure that you’re not anywhere near it. thankfully, the hallway is empty and the only sound he can hear is from the tv playing in the living room. he slips inside, still holding his breath as if that will help him stay hidden, glancing around to try and figure out where you are.

that’s when he sees it. your bedroom door is slightly ajar, the lights are dimmed and your pants lay discarded in front of it. he swears he almost looses his mind then and there. making sure to avoid the creaky wooden floorboards that he has mapped out in his mind, he steps over to your bedroom, hiding behind the wall beside it and daring to sneak a glance through the gap.

you’re lay back on your bed like some sort of goddess, your panties thrown at the foot of the bed and your fingers buried between your spread legs. your other hand is covering your mouth to muffle any sounds that you make and he can just make out the furrow of your eyebrows. you look beautiful. he stands there, entranced for a moment, simply taking in the sight of you as you pleasure yourself. he allows himself to wonder what it’d be like if that were his hand, if you let him touch you like that.

he doesn’t even realise that he is palming himself through his jeans, too focused on not missing a single thing you do to care much what he himself is doing. he burns the image into his memory, half tempted to pull out his phone and snap a picture for later. he resists in favour of gingerly unzipping his fly and wrapping his hand around his cock. he’s already leaking precum, and he uses it as a lube to spread around his tip before giving himself an experimental stroke.

the pleasure runs through him like a bolt of electricity, from the tips of his toes to his head, and he can barely suppress the sound of satisfaction that threatens to pass through his lips. your legs shake and your hips grind up against your fingers, the sounds coming from where you lay sounding like music to his ears. rafe uses his free hand to hold himself up against the wall as his knees begin to buckle, his mind full of nothing but you.

he can feel himself getting close already, the way his balls tighten and his cock twitches being sure signs, but he can tell you’re not, so he removes his hand and forces himself to wait. he wants to fall over the edge with you. the hand on your mouth drops down to rub tight circles over your clit, and he mirrors your movements against his tip, the slight bit of stimulation causing his eyes to roll back. he quickly regains his focus, though, fixing back on the way your pussy squelches lewdly with every plunge of your fingers.

when your arm shoots out beside you to grip frantically at the bedsheets, trying to ground yourself, he returns his grip on his dick and pumps along with your rhythm, feeling himself begin to tilt over the edge. and when you moan without shame or reservation, your hips bucking one last time and your back arching up off your bed, he comes right along with you, his jaw slackened and his shoulders slumped forward against the wall.

you sigh and relax into the blankets beneath you, satisfied with yourself, whilst he is trying to regain his breath as quietly as possible, his body still shaking. “shit.” he curses beneath his breath, stuffing himself back into his pants and quickly slipping back over to the front door. the thrill of having been in your apartment at the same time as you, and watching you get yourself off in the private of your bedroom, is addicting, and he feels a little disappointed that he is leaving.

he remembers to lock the door behind him, returning the key back into his pocket and walking unsteadily over to the stairwell, taking them two at a time to get to the parking lot as quickly as possible. he sucks in a breath of the cold fresh air once he’s outside, getting back into his car and starting the engine. he can’t help but smile smugly to himself as he drives out onto the main road, fingers tapping along to the music playing from the radio. you’re his, whether you know it yet or not.

🏷️ ⦂ @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @livstarzz @camerxnlove

once you’re inside, he pushes you against the wall and attaches his lips to yours, one hand in your hair and the other on your waist. his hips grind up into yours, making you all too aware of the bulge in the front of his jeans and sending your head spinning. the kiss is frantic and messy—teeth clashing and breathing heavy as you pour your overwhelming need for him into each touch.

“i’ve missed you s’much, sweetheart.” he mumbles into your mouth, fingers slipping beneath your shirt and trailing up your ribcage until they reach the undersides of your tits. “you saw me, like, two days ago, clark.” he breaks the kiss to stare at you with a dumbfounded expression, cheeks flushed with exertion. “yeah, two days too long.”

you let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head as you lean forward to trail your lips along his jaw, smiling to yourself when you hear him groan hoarsely. his thumbs brush over your nipples until they harden beneath them, making your eyes flutter shut under his touch. his touch is addicting, and you’re sure you’ll never be able to resist it.

your hands slip down to the waistband of his jeans and fumble with the fly for a moment before he stops you, pulling them away and instead slowly dropping down onto his knees in front of you. the sight of him looking up at you through his dark lashes steals the breath from your lungs, only made worse by the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth when he registers your reaction.

“clark—” you hiss, glancing out of the open door of the barn and scanning the field for any sign of his parents, “what are you doing?” he doesn’t say anything for a moment, focused solely on pulling your shorts and panties down. “what’s it look like i’m doing, sweetheart?” he replies playfully before lowering his mouth between your legs.

he starts off with gentle kisses, his movements worshipping every inch of you with careful precision, before he gains more confidence and licks a stripe through your folds. the pleasure that sparks through you is immediate and sends your knees buckling, though the arm wrapped around the backs of your thighs stops you falling far. your hand drops down to thread your fingers through his dark curls, tugging gently and evoking a satisfied sigh from him.

his mouth moves up to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking on it like it provides him with the one thing keeping him alive, and to be honest, if he told you that was the case, you’d believe him. “shit, clark—!” you whimper, biting your lip to try and control your volume while your hips shift uncontrollably against the onslaught of sensations flooding through you.

when he draws away slightly, you whine in protest, arching your back to try chase his mouth. “let them hear you, sweet girl. i want this whole farm to know how good i make you feel.” his words only make the heat coiling in your gut that much more intense, that much more unbearable. when he notices your restlessness, he doesn’t hesitate to return to his previous position, lapping at your core like a man starving.

you can feel your orgasm approaching, and try as you might, you cannot contain the moans of pleasure that escape through your parted lips. you can no longer focus on keeping quiet for his parents’ sake, the attention he’s giving you sending your head spinning and erasing all rationale from your mind.

when his tongue buries itself inside of you, his nose pushed against your clit and his fingers grasping helplessly at your thighs, you have only a moment to warn him of your imminent climax before it crashes over you with enough force to momentarily stop your breathing. it blanches your vision and has your toes curling, your body shaking against the wooden wall of the barn. he doesn’t let up until you have relaxed completely, looking up at you once more when he pulls away. he’s grinning like an idiot, a self-satisfied look painted across his face, only emphasised by your juices smeared across the lower half of it.

he helps you pull up and button your shorts before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “guess you should go find my ma before she starts to look for you.” he flashes you a smug smile, patting your thigh and turning to leave the barn. you watch after him, dumbfounded for a moment, until you’re broken out of your reverie by martha calling your name.

“coming, mrs kent!”