thinking about creepy bsf!rafe who’s obsessed with you
CREEPY BSF!RAFE who begs for your nudes almost every single day and will never leave you alone until you say yes. For the most part, you always give in to his pleas and send him all the pics. He only encourages you to send them ‘just in case’ someone else were to get a hold of them. He’s only keeping them just to protect you.
CREEPY BSF!RAFE who can’t help but discreetly take pictures of you whenever you’re not looking so he can add them to his little collection later on. Who reminds himself that these pictures are simply for adoration and memories. Who also finds himself jerking off to all of your pictures in the middle of the night. His thick ropes of cum spurts out as he starts at his favorite picture of your plump tits.
CREEPY BSF!RAFE who constantly reminds you that your relationship with him is very special, and no one could ever come in between you guys. He knows for certain that no man will ever love you like he does. Rafe loves you to death!!
CREEPY BSF!RAFE who initiates sleepovers whenever he’s not working. Who waits until he hears your soft snores before reaching under your top to play with your hardened nipples. It’s not the first time he’s done this and it simply won’t be the last.
CREEPY BSF!RAFE who grips your tits even harder as you lean further into his touch in your drowsy state. Who takes it even further and pops one of your nipples into his mouth to be even closer to you. Who ends up falling asleep painfully hard with your tits in his face.
CREEPY BSF!RAFE who wakes up to find his semi-hard cock deep inside your throat. Who almost cums too early just from the way your tired eyes look up at him as you bob your head up and down his length. Who softly caresses your face as he pushes your head down even more.
EQUALLY OBSESSED!READER who swallows every ounce of his nut and keeps going until Rafe’s shaking, twitching, and shivering all over the fucking bed. Who doesn’t stop even when Rafe’s thick thighs clamp around your head in a desperate attempt to push you off of him.
EQUALLY OBSESSED!READER who kisses Rafe passionately with her cum-stained lips and falls back asleep on his chest. Whose heart flutters at the fact that she has the most amazing best friend ever.
author’s note: FAWKKKKKK I just watched the new (not really) Hellraiser and he looked SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FINEEEE!!! I NEED HIM TO BREED MEE!!
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The bruising on your jaw, sternum and upper arms made you shudder. Also, Rafe's words echoed in your brain, and you could not stop them, no matter what...
You had sex with Rafe after the Midsummer Night's Ball, and, besides it being your first time, it was nothing like you hoped, heard of or imagined.
The Cameron boy was mean and brutal, his thrusts demanding and sharp. He did make you come though, multiple times, but the disgusting things he called you, and how his fingertips pressed too tightly on your skin threw you off. Not to mention when he literally dug his teeth into your cheekbone, tearing the skin and making you blood. Your dream shattered, and you genuinely thought he did not like you, why else would he call you a "dirty fuckin' slut" ?
"C'mon, don't give me that look, baby", Rafe spat, licking his lips as he gripped your wounded jaw. You whimpered in his hold, feet tangling in his expensive silk sheets. "You make me want to shove you down and fuck you again".
"Do...uh, do you like me?", you asked, shuddering again at his straightforward confession. He laughed at you, and you noticed the bulge in his boxers growing harder again.
"I think I made it clear last night", Rafe joked, now sitting next to you on his bed. He was not a fan of aftercare, he found it disgustingly sweet, but he liked being in your company.
"B-but you were so mean", your voice broke as you confessed that, taking your lower lip between your teeth.
"Well, that was your fault, not mine", he shrugged, resting his chin on your knee.
"How?", you furrowed your brows.
"You made me do that. C'mon, don't act innocent, it ain't working with me. I know how girls like you are", he replied and you flinched.
"What do you mean?", you asked again, sincerely.
"Well, you wanna be fucked like a filthy bitch, don't you? Huh?"
You shook your head violently, trying to pull away from his arms that were now gripping your elbows. Rafe puffed, a short, dry laugh escaping from his broad chest. "That's what you all say. Yet you came on my dick, and I'm pretty sure that you're wet as fuck, now. Should I, uh...should I check?"
His words made you doubt yourself, and, in the end, you were convinced Rafe Cameron was totally right.
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Hello! This is my first ever request! I was wondering if you could do a Drew starkey x actress(reader) who have been together for a while now but the public doesn’t know. And they’re spotted together in the set OBX 5 being all cute
I loved you here
Pairing: Drew Starkey x fem!reader.
Masterlist | Who am i? | REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
a/n: Extra fic this week! this is my favorite trope so ask for more, i begggggg. Actually i'm already plotting for a fic hehehe, might've already written it even 👹
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: none
Word count: 0,8k
It was the last first day back on set and as bittersweet as that was, you couldn’t help the flicker of joy curling in your chest. For the first time in months, you and Drew would be in the same city, your schedules finally aligning like stars that had kept missing each other in orbit. It sounded like an insane way to maintain a healthy relationship, seeing each other between shoots, flights, time zones and premieres, but it worked and had worked for five years now, soon to be six.
Quiet, solid and steady amidst the chaos.
Everyone was already out in wardrobe, gathering in groups on set to take promo pictures when you finally stepped out of the makeup trailer. Your stylist adjusted a hair strand behind you as the makeup artists trailed out, checking your face under the light one last time.
You picked up your pace slightly, not wanting to keep anyone waiting and then you saw Drew standing near the edge of the uneven ground where the trail met the set’s main path, a little higher up than the rest. His gaze lifted, caught yours and as always, softened instantly.
You smiled. “Hi baby.”
“Hi,” he said back, just as warm. “You didn’t have to rush.”
You reached the edge of the drop and before you could think of climbing down, Drew stepped forward, gripped your waist and lifted you gently off the ledge, placing you down right in front of him like it was second nature. You steadied yourself with a hand on his chest. “You didn’t have to wait.”
“I wanted to,” he simply said, his voice low and easy. “You look beautiful.”
You brushed his hand as you fell into step beside him, pinkies barely brushing until they caught and looped together for just a second between you and around, castmates and crew chatted as they walked, heading toward the first shoot location.
“Last first day,” he said quietly.
You glanced around, the familiarity of it all sinking in. “I’m definitely crying on the last day.”
“I’ll start tonight,” he laughed.
You chuckled, nudging his shoulder. “Have you thought about what you’re gonna ask to keep?”
“Yeah,” he said, almost too quickly.
You gave him a look. “Oh really? That confident?”
“Mhm. I’m not asking though and I already stole it.”
You blinked, curious. “It better not be more of the gold, because if you’re stockpiling, I’ve got to return mine before we get in trouble.”
Drew grinned, turning his head just enough to catch your expression. “It’s you, baby. Found you here first and I’m not giving you back.”
You bumped into him with a laugh and slid an arm around his waist as you walked. He squeezed your side gently in return.
“That was smooth,” you said, impressed.
“I try.”
You reached up and plucked the sunglasses off his face, sliding them onto your own. “You nailed it, baby. Don’t doubt yourself.”
It had been obvious from the start that you were each other’s best thing. The quarantine FaceTime calls, all the red carpets, night shoots, line rehearsals and late-night takeout meals in cramped trailers, were all part of the story. Growing up in this industry with Drew had changed your life in more ways than you could count but most of all, it had made everything feel a little less heavy and a whole lot more worth it.
For the next few hours, as you moved between locations for the photos, you and Drew created a game. One of you would point at a spot on set and the other would tell the memory tied to it. That bench where you both fell asleep during a night shoot in season two, that path you’d ran off to, to kiss hiding from prying eyes and the dock behind the crew tent where you’d whispered “I think I’m in love with you,” when you hadn’t meant to.
As always, unsurprisingly so, you forgot people could see that sort of connection, much less film it, which was what happened.
You and Drew had always been quiet about it and as discreet as you could, or at least, you thought you were. But that moment had been captured, as many others by the always-watchful lenses of fans across the field. The videos were posted within the hour and then they were everywhere.
obsessedfilmupdates are they friends?
outerbnxfiles Sooo much worse
rafeanatics Last year hoping they’ll fall in love 😪
sunkissedstarkey I need them to realise they’re perfect for each other like FAST
outerbanksfeed Stand down, soldier. I think we did it
The comments poured in like waves, relentless, warm and achingly observant. Fans had always seen it, what had always lived quietly between the takes and under the surface. The comfort, the soft familiarity and the way you looked at each other like home. Even without confirmation, it was a fantasy millions had collectively chosen to internalise. It maybe wasn’t yet real to them but clearly it wasn’t a performance either and that was more than enough.
If this was the beginning of the end, this last season, this last stretch of long nights and early mornings, you were okay with it—because he had been there at the start and you knew, no matter where the story ended on screen, he’d be there long after the credits rolled.
♡ summary: when you have trouble sleeping at night, rafe is there to help you quiet the noise.
♡ warnings: 18+ mdni. smut. oral (f!receiving), female reader, no use of y/n, not proofread, insomnia
♡ a/n: wrote this when i was stuck awake last night lol enjoy.
2:34am
The clock on your nightstand shines a bright red, glow bouncing off the shiny oak surface it rests on.
You sigh, reaching out and flipping the clock around. You figure that being aware of the time is only going to make things worse.
Flipping onto your back, staring at the ceiling, the body next to you shuffles a little, then settles.
You press your lips together into a straight line as your hands meet your face. You pinch the bridge of your nose with your thumb and index finger, then move your palm up to your forehead. It rests there for a moment before you move it behind your head, closing your eyes.
Your mind is racing.
Ruminating.
Work has been a huge stressor, it feels like you’re on all the time. It’s been extremely difficult for you to find time for yourself lately, to find the time to decompress. You take a breath in, hold it for a few seconds, then breathe back out.
Your arm drops from your forehead, letting it rest over your stomach.
No matter what you do, you cannot get comfortable. Your legs feel tense, your stomach feels weird, and you have a soft but persistent ache behind your eyes.
Sitting up, you gently remove the comforter off your body and swing your feet over the edge of the bed. A shiver travels up your legs as your feet come into contact with your hard wood floor. After resting your hands on your knees for a moment, you push yourself up and walk over to your bathroom.
You shut the door, flip the light on and lean over the counter slightly, looking at yourself in the mirror.
Sometimes getting out of bed for a little bit helps.
You twist the knobs to turn on the faucet, cold water shooting down the drain. You grab a glass that sits on the counter next to the sink and fill it with tap water, taking a few sips before placing it back down.
Rafe would not be pleased with you drinking tap water. You’ve always been filtered water people; however, it was go all the way downstairs to the fridge, or have a few sips from the tap.
You chose the latter.
You turn the doorknob and flip the light back off, stepping back into Rafe’s bedroom. You gently lift the covers and crawl back into bed, laying on your side facing away from the nightstand.
You lock eyes with Rafe, laying on his stomach. His face is pressed up against his pillow, his eyelids.
“Oh shit,” you whisper, “I woke you up. I’m sorry.”
You pull the comforter up to your chin, feeling guilty.
“Nah, I’ve been awake,” he mumbles, voice gravelly, shoving his hands underneath the pillow to prop his head up a little bit.
Rafe was sleeping, but lightly, as the reality is you’ve been tossing and turning all night long.
“Fuck—what’s your problem?” He grumbles, closing his eyes ever so slightly as you stare at him.
Your chest tightens, “nothing. It’s fine, go back to sleep.”
You flip over to face the nightstand once more, taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and try to focus on anything other than falling asleep.
He sighs behind you, the bed rocking slightly as he shuffles next to you.
Rafe reaches out, scooting himself so he’s up against your back. One of his arms reaches around you, curling around the small of your waist where your tank top rides up a little bit. You reach your arm down to place your hand on top of his.
He lifts his head, then lets it rest in the crook of your neck and begins drawing little circles on your stomach with his thumb. It makes you shiver.
“What’s the matter,” he grumbles, softer this time.
He tries to be sweet, but it’s pitch black on a week night. You don’t blame him.
“Just go to back to sleep, I don’t want to keep you up”
“Christ—I’m already up.”
You sigh, giving in. Rafe many things. Stubborn is one of them.
“Everything is just really busy. No matter what I do, I can’t get my mind to turn off. I can’t get comfortable… and now I’m just getting bitchy.”
He hums in response, his hand gravitating towards your bottoms, his palm is flat, tucking his fingers underneath your waistband. He stops, letting it rest. Heat finds your core, forming a knot in your abdomen.
His breath is hot, causing your neck to feel damp. Kissing you gently, Rafe applies the slightest bit of pressure with his fingers.
“I could make you feel better, clear your head a little bit.”
His words send a pulse down to your heat. You hate the effect he has on you, even in the late hours of the night.
You breathe out through your nose, almost a laugh, trying to shrug it off.
“It’s late, Rafe.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
His hand drops down lower, his index finger finding a place in between your folds with a low hum.
“You can tell me to stop,” his finger slowly slides up and down, spreading your slick.
Aa soft breath leaves your freshly parted lips as you push into him.
“S’what I thought,” he mumbles against your shoulder, pulling his fingers out from under your pants.
“Rafe,” you whine at the loss of his fingers.
He pulls away completely now, his bare chest leaving your back. Goosebumps form at the sudden loss of body heat, chill in the air.
The heat slowly returns to your body as you roll over. Your eyes rake over his shirtless form, his bicep flexes slightly as he lifts his arm up to rest his head on his hand.
The loss of his touch combined with the lack of sleep, irritated is one of many words you could pull from the bank of feelings you have swimming in your mind right now.
You flip to your back to stare at the ceiling, sighing out in frustration as his hand makes his way back to your tummy.
“What do you want hm?”
You sigh, now is not the time to play games.
“Rafe please,” you whine, twisting your head to look at him. A smug smirk plants itself on his face.
“Please what?” His hand moves back down to the waist band of your underwear, looping his finger around it.
Rafe’s fingers gently tug at your lacy panties, your eyes following the movement. He knew what you wanted, but liked hearing you say it.
“Touch me…” you whisper, flitting your eyes up to his.
“Good girl.” His smirk widens, satisfaction written on his face. The friction of his thumb against your skin makes your pulse spike before he finally strips them away, off your ankles.
He shifts until he’s positioned between your knees, looking down to see his hands sliding up to grip the insides of your thighs to hold you in place.
The first touch of his mouth is agonizingly gentle—a warm press against your sensitive skin that pulls a sharp gasp from your chest. He doesn’t rush, his tongue setting a steady rhythm.
Rafe hums lowly, the vibration earning a quiet whine from you as he gently sucks on your clit, his fingers digging deep into your flesh to hold you still.
His tongue swirls around you with a steady pressure, slipping his fingers inside you.
“Rafe— fuck, please—“ you whine, your head tossing back against the pillow as your heels dig into the mattress. You feel like you’re about to snap.
Rafe responds with nothing but a groan, vibrations coursing through you again. His smugness is gone, replaced by the need to see you completely undone.
His focus remains on your swollen clit, targeting the sensitive peak while his fingers pump inside you. You can barely breathe. You can’t think.
Your fingers twist in the sheets as the first wave of your orgasm crashes over you, clamping around his fingers.
Rafe doesn't pull away; he laps up every drop of your release, riding out the contractions with long, strokes that send electricity shooting down your legs. He keeps his fingers buried deep, feeling every pulse of your muscles until your hips finally settle and you collapse back onto the bed.
Slowly, he drags himself up your body, leaving a trail of warm kisses along your stomach and ribcage before hovering over your face.
“Still thinking?" he asks, his voice gravelly, a faint, dark smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You shake your head weakly against the pillow, your chest still heaving. Your mind, which had been racing in circles just twenty minutes ago, is completely blank.
"Good." Rafe shifts his weight, pulling the discarded blanket up over both of you before tugging you hard against his side. He pulls you in until your back is flush against his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist, hand resting heavy over your stomach.
He buries his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. You can feel the rapid, unsteady thrum of his heartbeat against your shoulder blades.
"Go to sleep," he mutters against your skin.
His fingers lightly tap a restless rhythm against your hip, a physical reminder of the static always buzzing in his head, but his grip never loosens. Smothered in his heat, his scent, and the absolute finality of his voice, your eyelids finally grow too heavy to fight.
