oh, how you loved raising rafe’s water bill as you stood in the hot stream of water for hours. it made your body and muscles loosen.
calm down.
perks of having a rich boyfriend, you guess. (not that you relied on him—you were a lady; you could handle your expenses very well, even if you would get your card robbed by rafe and your wallet replaced with his card—and maybe, well, a good spank afterward if you spent too much of your own.)
you could hear some shuffling here and there from outside the bathroom—probably rafe back from his golf date with his other lover.
fucking topper.
yes, that’s how you worded it before he left this morning. might as well be topper’s boyfriend if he’d rather play golf with him than spend time with you shopping online.
before you know it, he’s inside the bathroom, grumbling about the amount of steam.
“you like taking showers in hell in your private time?” he says with a frown on his pretty face as he starts undressing.
throwing him a glare, you open the shower door a little to see his face—and he can see your glare.
“fuck off, raphael.” pity? yes. overdramatic? yes. but let’s not talk about that.
before you could curse him some more in your head, he’s walking over, joining you in the shower. naked. god, you were never gonna get over how fucking good he looks.
he wraps both large arms around your waist tightly, his face right into your neck, prepping it with kisses—and you melt—
wait, no, you’re still mad.
“wrecked my wallet enough with your shopping today?” he mumbles into your neck while massaging your waist.
“extra today because you left, asshole.” you aggressively turn around, grabbing some shampoo, washing his head as he looks at you with this loving, dreamy gaze.
oh, how he loved his dramatic girl.
“i had to go, baby—topper’s dad had to talk to me about somethin” he sighs as you massage his head.
“awhh then i guess you didn’t get to spend a lot of time with your boyfriend, huh?” you say.
“c’mon, baby, you know it’s not like that. i can barely tolerate the fucker.” he quickly gets under the water, washing his head, then positions his face back into your neck, putting your arms around his neck.
when you don’t say anything, he knows the drill by now.
“i’m sorry, forgive me, my love. won’t happen again.” he pulls back, leaving tiny kisses on your chest and collarbone.
“fine. on your knees then.” you glare at him still. it’d take a whole lot of spoiling and kisses and quality time to get you to fully forgive him—and he knew that.
but for now, he just got on his knees with a shit-eating grin, putting all his loving where his mouth is, ’cause his sugar-talking wasn’t gonna work tonight.
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Hi! Love your writing! If you’re up to a rage fic -
I would love an angst trade where he calls reader clingy and she distances herself!
are you busy?
SUMMARY . . rafe gets exactly what he asks for when he calls you clingy in front of everyone and discovers that silence is a lot harder to live with than he expected.
AUTHOR’S NOTE . . 2144 words ( before edit ) ; i did use she/her pronouns for this ; did a little obsession spin on this because i feel like he’d actually become the version he saw you as before his little outburst, so a bit of irony. if anyone wats me to fulfill any more requests let me know !!
MAIN MASTERLIST | PART TWO REQUEST
the party stretches across the cameron property, spilling from the back patio and out toward the water where expensive boats rock gently against their slips. music drifts through air while people move in clusters.
you’ve spent the better part of the evening weaving through those groups looking for rafe, catching glimpses of him only long enough for somebody else to pull him away again before you can get more than a few words out of him.
when you finally spot him near the edge of the deck, talking to topper and a handful of other people, relief settles in your chest before you can stop it.
maybe it’s pathetic. maybe it isn’t. all you know is that finding him feels like finally being able to exhale after spending the last hour searching.
you make your way over without thinking twice, squeezing between a couple of people until you’re standing beside him, your shoulder brushing lightly against his arm as you tilt your head up toward him with a smile.
“there you are,” you say. “i’ve been looking for you.”
for a moment, he doesn’t answer. his jaw flexes instead while he stares out toward the water. you've seen him stressed at things that had absolutely nothing to do with you before. because of that, it takes a second to realize the look he finally turns on you isn’t aimed through you or past you. it’s aimed directly at you.
“can you relax?” he asks sharply.
the smile fades from your face. “what?”
“you’ve been looking for me all night.”
confusion settles over you immediately because the accusation feels so strange. of course you’ve been looking for him. he’s your boyfriend. he literally picked you up so you could be here tonight.
the idea that he’d be annoyed by that doesn’t even occur to you until you catch the way topper’s attention shifts between the two of you, along with the subtle quieting of the conversation around him.
“i mean, i was just trying to find you,” you tell him.
rafe smiles and runs his palm across his buzzed head, looking every bit as frustrated as he has all evening. except now, instead of whatever has been bothering him all day, all of that frustration seems to have landed squarely on your shoulders.
“no, that’s exactly what i’m talking about,” he says, “you’re always trying to find me.”
your stomach sinks. people are listening now, you know they are.
you can see it in the way conversations nearby begin to slow, or the way somebody glances over their shoulder before quickly looking away.
somehow none of that feels as important as the expression on rafe’s face, though. while everyone else fades into the background, your attention stays fixed entirely on him, searching for some indication that he’s going to stop, realize what he’s saying, and walk it back.
instead, he keeps going.
“you’re always texting me, always asking where i am, always asking what i’m doing,” he says, throwing one hand out in exasperation. “you don’t have to be attached to me every second of the day.”
your entire body gives a small involuntary flinch, not because he moves toward you or because you’re scared of him, but because hearing something like that from the person whose opinion matters most to you feels a little like missing a step in the dark.
you stare at him. that’s all you can do.
suddenly you’re replaying every interaction you’ve had over the past few months, wondering which part of it annoyed him this much.
was it the good morning texts? the calls? asking if he’d made it home safely after disappearing for hours? was it showing up when he asked you to? sitting beside him when he was in a bad mood? listening to him complain about his father, his life, his problems, and everything else? none of it had ever felt excessive to you. it had just felt like a relationship.
for the first time since you’ve known him, rafe seems to realize how bad what he said actually sounded, but just for a split second. the anger on his face falters slightly, uncertainty slipping through the cracks, but by then the damage is already done.
there are too many people standing around, too many eyes watching, and too much pride keeping either of you from pretending the moment never happened.
the lump in your throat makes it difficult to speak. still, you manage.
“okay.” the word comes out quiet enough that he almost doesn’t hear it. you don’t argue or try to defend yourself.
you simply nod once, forcing yourself to hold his gaze for another second before looking away, and somehow that hurts him far more than any argument probably would have. because for the first time all night, you’re not trying to reach him anymore.
the drive home that night is quieter than rafe expected, not because of what happened earlier. if anything, he almost wishes you were arguing back to him. arguments are familiar territory. he knows how to handle yelling and angry words and people fighting back.
what he doesn’t know how to handle is silence. after your small, quiet okay at the party, you never bring it up again.
you don’t ask him why he said it. you don’t just tell him he embarrassed you. you don’t even demand an apology or make him explain himself. you simply retreat into yourself, staring out the passenger window. a few times he glances over, almost expecting you to say something, but you never do.
eventually his grip tightens around the steering wheel as irritation replaces the guilt. if you’re upset, then be upset. if you’re angry, then say something. instead, you just sit there, and by the time he drops you off, he’s convinced himself the entire thing wasn’t nearly as bad as it felt.
the next morning feels strangely peaceful.
his phone isn’t lighting up every few hours. there isn’t a text waiting for him when he wakes up or a notification asking if he slept well, if he’s busy today, or if he wants to do something later.
at first, he barely notices. if anything, a part of him feels relieved.
isn't this what he wanted? space? room to breathe?
for the first couple of days, that’s exactly how he frames it in his head. he spends his time doing whatever he wants, going wherever he wants, and never once has to answer a question about where he’s been. every now and then he catches himself expecting a text to come through, but when it doesn’t, he simply tosses his phone aside and moves on.
it isn’t until the third day that the silence starts feeling less like freedom and more like something missing, because it isn’t just the texts. it’s everything.
it’s the fact that you don’t stop by tannyhill after being nearby, or that he doesn’t hear your name from rose asking if you’re coming over, or ward wondering if you’re joining them for dinner.
somehow you’d become woven into the routine of his life so gradually that he never noticed it happening, and now every missing piece sticks out.
he keeps expecting things to go back to normal on their own, and keeps expecting you to call first like you always do. he just keeps expecting you to show up, but each day passes exactly like the one before it.
then a week goes by. by that point, he’s checking his phone more than he’d ever admit out loud.
not texting you. he’s not that desperate. at least that’s what he tells himself. he’s just looking, just seeing if maybe you posted something, or if maybe you called while he wasn’t paying attention.
just seeing if maybe—
nothing.
which is why your name slips out so casually one afternoon that even he doesn’t realize he’s asking about you until it’s too late.
he’s sitting with topper and kelce outside the country club, all three of them halfway through a conversation that started about boats and somehow turned into making fun of one of the kook guys they know. laughter circles the table, and for a few minutes rafe almost forgets about the irritating little knot that’s been sitting in his chest all week.
then he reaches for his drink and says, “where’s y/n been?”
the laughter dies immediately. kelce blinks and topper looks up. for a second neither of them answers, because of all people, why would they know?
“what?” kelce asks.
rafe grins like he doesn’t understand. “what do you mean ‘what’?”
“you just asked where y/n’s been.”
“yeah.”
another pause. topper and kelce exchange a glance.
rafe immediately notices, and immediately hates it. “what?” he asks.
“nothing,” topper says.
“then answer the question.”
topper leans back slightly. “i don’t know. i think she was down at the wreck yesterday.”
rafe’s eyes narrow. “the wreck?”
“yeah.”
“with who?”
kelce lets out a short laugh. “how are we supposed to know?”
rafe ignores him, his attention staying fixed on topper.
topper shrugs. “some friends, i guess.”
“what friends?”
this time both of them stare at him, and rafe doesn’t understand why. the questions seem perfectly reasonable.
he’s your boyfriend, or at least he thinks he still is.
asking where you are shouldn’t feel weird, and asking who you’ve been spending time with shouldn’t earn him these looks. at least this is what he thinks in his own head.
“i don’t know, man,” topper says slowly. “i just heard she was there.”
rafe’s jaw tightens, “like, all day?”
“i guess.”
“she was there the day before too, then,” kelce adds. “pretty sure i saw her when i was driving through.”
that piece of information settles uncomfortably in rafe’s chest. so for the last two days, while he’s been sitting around waiting for some sign of life from you, you’ve apparently been out enjoying yourself.
the realization annoys him far more than it should. he tells himself it’s because it’s weird. maybe ‘cause it’s different. after months of knowing exactly where you are and what you’re doing, the sudden lack of information feels unfamiliar.
deep down, though, he knows that’s not the reason. the real reason is that he’d expected you to be upset and miss him. instead, every report he’s hearing now makes it sound like you’re doing perfectly fine without him.
that night, the thought follows him home, and then into his bedroom, and then into the early hours of the morning.
he ends up sprawled across his bed with one arm behind his head and his phone balanced against his chest, staring at the ceiling. every few minutes he unlocks his screen or checks the time. he finds himself opening the same apps for absolutely no reason before locking the phone again.
but eventually he gives up pretending. his thumb presses against your contact. he stares at your contact photo and the message thread that’s been dead for over a week. then he backs out, opens your location instead. the map loads.
you’re not home. his foot starts bouncing immediately. he tells himself he doesn’t care, he’s obviously only looking because he’s curious. right? because it’d be weird not to wonder. because—
you’re at the movies.
the realization irritates him instantly. movies with who? how many people are there with you? when did that plan even get made? how come he didn’t know about it?
his thumb pinches the screen, zooming in on the little circle as if the answer might magically appear if he looks hard enough, but he knows it doesn’t. all it tells him is that you’re somewhere having fun. somewhere that isn’t with him.
every bit of these thoughts trace back to one stupid night and one stupid argument that he can’t stop replaying no matter how badly he wants to. because the more he thinks about it, the more details come back - the way you’d looked at him and didn’t argue. you’d just looked hurt.
rafe shifts against the headboard. your location is still pulled up on his screen, somewhere near the beach tonight, probably with friends.
his jaw tightens, loosens, then tightens again. it almost makes him angry. reaching out means admitting something, that he was wrong and that he misses hearing from you.
eventually, the silence wins. or maybe it loses. he isn’t sure anymore. all he knows is that his thumb finally presses against the keyboard.
he starts typing something longer before deleting it immediately, starts again, then deletes that too. nothing sounds right. in the end, he settles on the only thing he can manage.
rafe stares at the message for a second before he finally hits send. the delivered notification appears almost instantly, and for the first time in weeks, the waiting belongs to him.
‘ are you busy? ’
and just seconds later, your read receipts pick up below his message.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ AUTHOR'S NOTE ♥︎ it’s november already but i got this idea and wanted to write it!
── RED ROSE READER જ⁀➴ ♥︎ RAFE CAMERON
"are you sure you're okay with this?" you asked with your lips set in a small pout, your husband's face visible on your computer screen as you laid on the bed.
"of course. theo's just a kid, and it's important for you and rafe to have a healthy co-parenting relationship. part of it is both of you being there for important moments, and what's more important than trick or treating?" will smiled, "now… are you gonna show me your costume?" the man raised his brows suggestively, making you let out a soft laugh and roll your eyes.
you put on your cat ears, standing up and taking a few steps back away from your laptop, watching as your husband's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets, and you covered your mouth from embarrassment, feeling your cheeks warm.
"jesus fucking christ…" will took in a low breath and you rolled your eyes, "i feel so embarrassed." "babe, you're incredibly hot. do you have any idea what i'd do to you if i was home? turn around for me."
you turned around slowly, letting your husband get a good look at the skin-tight black full bodysuit, and as you turned around, will looked at you up and down with clear appreciation, letting out a low whistle. "you should wear that when i come home."
"yeah?" you laughed softly, flopping back down on the bed, "when's that?"
"i think we'll get the case wrapped up by wednesday. think we can celebrate halloween together belatedly? you can show me all your tricks and treats."
you burst into laughter, shaking your head, "jesus, you're the worst at sexual innuendos." you smiled, "i miss you."
"i miss you too." will sighed, leaning his head on his hands with a fond smile, the pupils of his eyes overtaking the blues, "you look gorgeous."
"i'll make sure to send some—"
your attempt at flirting was interrupted by the ring of the doorbell, followed by a high-pitched squeal coming from downstairs. "and that's rafe." you sighed, your lips now in a straight line, "i love you. call me tomorrow?"
"love you too, baby. have fun."
you could hear the elated squeal of your son even as you were walking down the stairs, "put me down, daddy!" you could hear theo screaming joyfully, "i won't! you wanted to be a superhero and superheroes fly!"
when you got to the doorway of the living room, you leaned your head on the arch with a small, fond smile on your lips, watching as rafe, dressed as batman, was holding your son, superman theo, up in the air as if he was flying.
when your son noticed you, his eyes lit up and he brought his fist forward like superman as rafe continued to make him fly, "look, mama, i'm flying!" you laughed, "i can see that, superman."
rafe walked over to you, placing theo down in front of you, "superman has arrived to his destination." rafe grinned, standing up straight. you could see him size you up in your costume with a look that resembled hunger, desire, but instead of commenting on it, rafe cleared his throat, turning to theo, "alright, superman, you ready to go get a basket full of candy?"
"yeah!" theo exclaimed, jumping up into the air. "mama, can you gimme krypto?" you chuckled softly, handing your son the white plush dog, the plushie wearing a cape you'd especially made for it, theo clutching it and cuddling it close to his chest.
theo was wandering way ahead of you two, his basket almost half-full of candy. you and rafe hadn't really said more than five words to another, and for some reason... there was an air of awkwardness surrounding you.
you cleared your throat, briefly looking to rafe before looking back at your son, "so, how's sofia?" you asked, trying to sound like saying that didn't feel like swallowing rusty nails.
"i wouldn't know." rafe shrugged, "i broke up with her." his statement made your head snap to face your ex-husband, your eyes wide, "what?" "yeah. you were right. dating theo's kindergarten teacher... it wasn't appropriate. i should've never started it. i'm sorry."
your eyes widened slightly. rafe... actually apologized for something he did, instead of acting like he could do no wrong. before you could question him on his reaction, though, you heard your son call out.
"mama! this house next!"
you let out a soft laugh, turning to rafe, "that house next, i guess."
once theo's basket was overflowing with candy, the three of you made your way to your home with theo's eyes already drooping, drool leaking onto rafe's shirt as he carried his son, softly stroking the back of the little boy's head in a way that made you swoon.
"is it okay if i put him down?" "of course. let me just..." you mumbled, pressing a kiss on top of the boy's head, "mama loves you, theo." a little "mmhmm." was the only response you got as the boy curled further into his father's chest.
rafe watched as theo let out soft mumbles as he laid in his race car bed, muscles twitching every now and then in his sleep. he smiled, brushing back some of his hair, before pressing a light kiss on theo's cheek.
when rafe walked down the stairs, he saw that you were sitting on the couch, now changed into a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, a glass of wine nestled between your hands. as he got to the bottom of the steps, he noticed you'd placed a second glass next to the bottle.
"i can go." rafe swallowed, glancing at the wine glass, "if you want me to." "do whatever you want to do." you shrugged, taking a big sip out of your glass, "i was thinking we could sort some things out about theo, but if you don't want to, we don't have to."
rafe sighed, "if you want me to stay, you can just say that."
you swallowed, looking down at the wine glass on your lap, "fine. i want you to stay." you brought the glass to your lips, tilting your head back slightly to take a big sip, muttering, "i don't like being alone. the house is too big."
rafe sat down on the couch next to you, leaning forward to pour himself some wine before sitting back with a sigh. "why are you acting so weird?" you asked with a furrowed brow, making rafe chuckle, "like what?" "like a good guy."
"i, uh..." rafe pressed his eyes close, taking in a deep breath, "i started seeing a therapist." your eyes widened at the statement, and you turned to rafe "the fuck? are you... are you serious? you? therapy"
rafe laughed, "yeah." he took in a deep breath, "i want to be better. i want to be better for you and th-" before rafe could finish his sentence, you'd already connected your lips with his.
you moved to straddle his lap, rafe's hands finding themselves on your waist, calloused hands creeping up your back under your sweater, a grin suddenly appearing on his lips as he pulled back, squeezing your soft flesh, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, "no bra? i'm starting to think this was your plan all along."
"maybe it was." you whisper against his lips, shivers running up rafe's spine, "you're really trying to... better yourself?"
"yeah. wanna be better, for theo, for you..." rafe's lips pressed against your neck, your back arching into him, your head tilting back to give him better access to your body as you ground down on his thigh with a low breath, "rafe, i'm married..."
"we have a kid together." the man pushed up your sweater, lips trailing down to your breast, "marriage is just a piece of paper, baby. c'mon, don't tell me you haven't thought about us being together again..." rafe pressed a kiss on your nipple that made you let out a gasp, "we could give theo a proper family and shit..." he sucked the hard bud into his mouth, tongue swirling around it as he moved you back and forth on his thigh.
"rafe..." you threw your head back, grinding down on rafe's muscular thigh, his hands holding you by your waist, "fuck..." rafe's lips detached from your nipple, the man looking up at you with hazy blue eyes, "you're so fucking hot... nearly came in my pants when i saw you in that costume..."
your clit throbbed as you rocked yourself on your ex's thigh, "just think about it... us, in the same house, in the same bed..." you moaned as rafe's hold tightened on your hips, making you let out a gasp, "we could have another baby..."
"don't talk like that..." you moaned, "we're not good for each other..."
"we could be." rafe grunted, moving you on his thigh, the knot in your stomach tightening, "could be real good. we both know william doesn't make you feel as good as i do..."
"rafe..." you let out a whine, the pressure in your abdomen growing as rafe increased his pace, "fuck, rafe, i'm close!"
he grinned up at you, "yeah? gonna come for me? does will make you come this fast?"
"shut up..." you panted, grinding on him more fervently, "shut up, dumbass." rafe laughed softly, watching as your eyes rolled back in your head, revelling in it.
and finally, your pussy clenched around nothing, a high pitch leaving your lips, your brows knitting together, your nails biting into rafe's shoulder as he watched you come on his thigh, and somehow it made him feel better than when he comes; the look of pure pleasure on your face was enough to make him feel like he was the one experiencing all that.
rafe stopped moving, allowing you to come down from your high as you pressed your forehead to his shoulder, taking in deep breaths, his large hand stroking the back of your head. "you did so good." he mumbled, pressing a kiss on the side of your head, "did so good for me, baby."
♡ when you’re so wet that rafe keeps slipping out..
warnings: making out, heavy petting, dry humping (not really, it’s pretty messy), finger sucking, cockwarming (?), unprotected sex, praise, teasing, rafe being super pussy drunk, belly bulge, size kink, biting, slight dacryphilia
“fuck, look at those hips..” 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. “need’ you, ray..” you whimpered, “please.” 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. “i’ll give it you, baby, don’t worry,” he landed a harsh smack to your ass, ripping a yelp from your lips, “wet those fingers for me.” 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. “fuck, i’m gonna wreck you..” 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. “you feel that? ‘feel the way my cock fills you up to the fucking brim?” your eyes rolled back at the same time you whined out a ‘f-fuck, yes!’ 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. “too much..” 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. “you’re so fucking wet, i’m slipping right out,” he grunted, “this is what i do to you, ‘pretty girl?” 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. “rafe!” 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. “what’s your ring size?” he sighed, pulling you against his chest. you laughed softly, slightly confused at the words that left his mouth. “why?” rafe’s chest was rising and falling as he glanced down at you, meeting your eyes. “are you kidding me? i need to lock this pussy down. like tonight.”
The faint sound of waves filled your ears, mixed with the wet sound of Rafe's lips on your neck.
He was on top of you, pressing you slightly against the white pillows of the kingsized bed which had been untouched for months.
He rarely slept in his yacht, he invited girls there even less often.
However you were an exception, he'd do anything for you. And when you asked him to spend the weekend away alone in his yacht? How could he possibly say no.
The window was slightly ajar, enough for the sound of the waves to sneak in, but not enough for the sound of your moans to slip out. You thought so atleast.
Didn’t bother closing it.
– "I love you so much" he murmured against your mouth, hand tracing your thighs with slow, steady movements. "Fuck baby you looked so pretty today, you always do"
You smiled, deepening the kiss, it was slower now, more intimate and Rafe's hands slid beneath the hem of your blouse. His fingers brushing your bare skin in a way that made you shiver.
He groaned, – "You're wearing too many clothes baby" he kissed your collarbone. "Take them off before I go insane."
You giggled but let out a soft moan when his hands moved to the waistband of your skirt, pulling it off with practiced ease.
Your blouse followed, leaving you only in your lace underwear which you specifically wore for him and him only.
He took off his own shirt, tossing it somewhere on the floor beneath the bed. Your hands roamed his chest, your manicured nails travelling over his muscle.
He grinned, – "You like that don't you?"
You sighed, kissing him again for an answer. Your fingers curled around the hem of his underwear. Earning a low groan and some soft muttering from him.
Your panties landed on the floor, his boxers followed seconds after.
You tangled your fingers in his hair, arching into him with a moan as he finally pressed into you. He groaned, forehead pressing into yours as your hips rolled up to meet his, creating a beautiful rhythm between the two of you.
Your hands traced down his back, nails scratching slightly drawing sighs and moans from his lips as he moved inside you with precision, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.
His mouth found yours, tongue slipping inside, earning a soft moan from you as the tension grew tighter and tighter in your stomach.
– "You close yet?" He murmured against your mouth, hips moving just slightly faster.
You nodded, too caught up in the moment to be able to speak. His hand slid between you, fingers finding your clit and you came with a cry, hips bucking as he kept moving through your climax, searching for his own release.
When he came he kissed your neck, sucking gently on the skin as his hips still moved. – "Oh fuck you feel so good baby" he groaned.
– "Mmph I love you" you murmured, finally being able to form a whole sentence again.
✎ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: What do we think of this then? I can't decide if it's good or bad or something in between like wtf? Once again THANK YOU for all the love i've gotten on my recent posts it means the world to me !!
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summary: rafe got a buzzcut and calls you to show you
warnings: none
a/n: this is a very short one guys, i’m sorry 😔
-> dividers credits: @bhavihelps & @anitalenia !!
part 2!! :)
rafe went with topper and kelce to topper’s right after he got his new haircut. he was very much pleased with his new look, but he was lowkey nervous about your reaction. but just a little bit.. he knew he looked good.
"have you told her?" topper said while he was busy playing a video game. kelce was sprawled on the couch while he stared at rafe and waited for his answer. rafe simply shook his head before he took his phone out of the pocket of his shorts.
"it’s a surprise." rafe smirked and unlocked his phone. "you’re so screwed." kelce chuckled out before he sat up so he could take a sip of his beer. rafe rolled his eyes and kelce smirked. "you know how girls are." topper agreed. "sarah cried when i cut my hair."
kelce pointed at topper. "see?" rafe groaned. "that’s ‘cause topper’s dating a bitch." topper shook his head. "hey, don’t call your sister bitch man." rafe chuckled and smirked when he finally got to find your number and started calling you.
"you’re about to be single or.. you’re about to have the best sex of your life." kelce mumbled quietly and rafe shook his head at his comment with a small smile spreading on his lips. "you’re stupid."
then you finally answered. "hii!" rafe’s smile got wider thanks to hearing your voice. "hey baby."
meanwhile you, on the other side, were just laying in your bed, watching a movie. "what’s up? are you still at topper’s?" rafe cleared his throat. "yeah. i uh.. i have to show you something."
you raised your eyebrows at that. "show me what?" he rubbed his freshly buzzed hair and smirked wider at her reaction. "i’ll facetime you, okay?" you smiled in confusion on the other side. "sure."
rafe quickly did what he said but purposely turned his camera off. he smiled when he saw your face. "i can’t see you." you said with a small chuckle. he wasn’t chronically online as you so you thought he was just dumb and accidentally turned his camera off.
"oops.. my bad." he teased and turned his camera on. your eyes widened but you stayed silent.. he was like 10 times hotter than before.. HOW was that even possible. your lips parted a bit as you kept staring for like a minute.. in silence. he chuckled with a smirk. "do you like it?" he turned his head to the side so you could see it better. you snapped back to reality. “mhm?"
"do you like it?" he repeated. you nodded with this shy but also teasing smile. "like it? i love it." he smirked and looked at kelce & topper, giving them a knowing look. he knew you’ll love it.
he couldn’t help but smirk wider as you admired him, not even saying anything. "cat’s got your tongue, baby?" he teased and you couldn’t help but smile back. "what? i can’t stare at my boyfriend?"
"oh of course you can." he got up and just walked away from his two friends so you two could get more.. talkative.
"no but seriously, it suits you so well." you genuinely meant every word. he literally can pull off anything. he smirked softly at you. "thanks, baby." your eyes landed on his face again.
"how much longer are you staying at topper’s?" you shifted on your bed slightly, you could feel you got wet already just from looking at him. jesus, you felt pathetic but damn.. he looked insanely hot.
he smirked before he licked his lips. "why?" you shrugged before you ran your fingers through your hair. "just.. i’m home alone tonight."
drunkenly ranting to a frat guy about how much ex!rafe sucked, only to realize halfway through the conversation that the stranger listening to every word is rafe himself.
“you sound familiar,” she laughs, words slurring slightly as she leans against the sticky kitchen counter. the frat house is loud, bass shaking through the floorboards, but his voice cuts through it anyway.
“do i?” he asks.
“mhm.” she squints at him, pointing lazily. “you’ve got the same voice as my ex boyfriend. which is unfortunate for you because he was literally the worst person alive.”
he chokes on his drink a little. “damn. harsh.”
“no, you don’t get it.” she grabs his arm like she’s telling him a secret. “rafe thought he was so charming. all backwards hats and stupid smirks. god, i hated him.”
“sounds like a dick.”
“exactly!” she says, delighted he understands. “wait—” her eyes narrow again. “you even laugh like him. that’s freaking me out.”
“maybe everyone in fraternities is the same guy.”
she gasps. “that’s so deep.”
he laughs harder this time, and she groans, covering her face. “stop doing that. it’s actually scary.”
“sorry.”
“whatever. at least you’re nicer than he was.” she pokes his chest. “rafe used to disappear at parties and leave me alone.”
his smile fades just slightly. “yeah?”
“yeah.” she looks down at her cup. “i think he loved being loved more than he actually loved me.”
for a second, he just stares at her. then quietly, “you really think that?”
she shrugs. “doesn’t matter now.” another crooked grin spreads across her face. “besides, i’m talking to you. frat boy clone number six.”
“number six?”
“maybe seven.” she tilts her head. “wait.”
his heart jumps. she steps closer, eyes scanning his face with drunken concentration. “oh my god.”
“what?”
“you even have the same cologne.”
there’s a long pause. then she bursts out laughing. “if you turn around and tell me your name is rafe i think i’d actually throw up.”
“…that would be pretty bad.”
“right?” she says, missing the way he’s already smiling. “anyway, what’s your name?”
he looks at her for a long second, like he’s debating whether to ruin the moment. then, “matt.”
“matt,” she repeats suspiciously. “that’s such a frat guy name.”
“you’re at a frat party.”
“fair.” she sways a little, nearly losing balance before he catches her elbow automatically. she blinks up at him. “see? rafe never caught me when i almost fell.”
“maybe rafe sucked less than you think.”
“absolutely not.” she points at him again. “don’t defend him. that man ghosted me for twelve hours during formal.”
“i was throwing up behind the hotel.”
“he didn’t even text me!”
“my phone died.”
she narrows her eyes. “you are weirdly invested in this story, matt.”
“just trying to see both sides.”
“there were no sides,” she insists. “he was terrible and i was adorable.”
“that part’s true.”
she freezes for half a second at the easy way he says it. “you flirt a lot,” she mumbles.
“only with girls who compare me to their ex boyfriends.”
“well maybe i have unresolved issues.”
“maybe.”
she studies him again, slower this time. his face is half-shadowed by the shitty colored lights strung across the ceiling, but something about him keeps tugging at her memory. “have we met before?” she asks softly.
his expression shifts. “i don’t know,” he says carefully. “have we?”
“your eyes are familiar.”
“that so?”
“mhm.” she steps closer until she’s practically pressed against him, squinting with intense drunken focus. “and your nose.”
he laughs under his breath. “my nose?”
“don’t laugh.” she reaches up and touches the bridge of it lightly. “i know this nose.”
his hand catches her wrist gently, mostly because he thinks his heart might actually stop. “you’re really drunk.”
“a little.” she looks at him through her lashes. “you’re really pretty.”
that catches him off guard enough that he actually looks away. she smiles triumphantly. “ha. made you nervous.”
“impossible.”
“matt,” she says seriously, “if you end up being secretly evil i’m going to be devastated.”
“what if i said i already know you?”
“i’d say that’s creepy.”
“fair.”
she tilts her head again. “wait.” there it is. that same almost-recognition. his stomach flips. “oh my god,” she whispers.
“yeah?”
“you stole rafe’s face.” he stares at her. then she frowns. “that sounded smarter in my head.”
he laughs so hard at that he has to look away and that’s what does it. the laugh. not the voice, not the eyes, not the stupid cologne she kept noticing — the laugh. the exact same laugh that used to wake her up at 2 a.m. in his dorm room when he was watching dumb videos with the volume too loud.
her smile slowly drops. “…rafe?”
his laughter dies immediately. around them, the party keeps moving. somebody yells from upstairs, music rattles the walls, cups clatter in the kitchen sink. but suddenly it feels weirdly quiet. she stares at him like she’s trying to sober herself through pure force. “oh my god,” she says again, except this time it comes out horrified.
“hey—”
“you asshole.” she smacks his arm hard enough to make him wince. “you let me talk shit about you for, like, twenty minutes!”
“in my defense, it was kind of entertaining.”
“rafe!”
“okay, yeah, i deserved that one.”
she covers her face with both hands. “i told you you were pretty.”
“still thinking about that part, actually.”
“i’m going to kill you.”
he grins despite himself. “you also said you were adorable.”
“because i am.”
“true.”
she groans loudly and leans forward until her forehead hits his chest. he catches her automatically, hands settling at her waist like muscle memory. that makes both of them go still. she notices it first, probably. the way he still holds her like nothing changed. like they didn’t spend months pretending not to exist to each other on campus. quietly, muffled against his shirt, “you really threw up behind the hotel?”
he snorts. “violently.”
she starts laughing before she can stop herself, shoulders shaking against him. “you could’ve texted me from the bathroom, idiot.”
“i know.”
“i thought you were cheating on me.”
his smile disappears. she lifts her head enough to see his face properly then, and the guilt there hits harder than she expects. “i never cheated on you,” he says softly.
the drunken haze in her brain dulls around the edges. “i know that now.”
for a second neither of them says anything. then, because she can’t handle sincerity for more than ten consecutive seconds, she pokes his chest. “still can’t believe you introduced yourself as matt.”
“panicked.”
“that’s not even close to your name.”
“could’ve been worse.”
“what, chad?”
“i could pull off a chad.”
she laughs again, and he swears it feels exactly like getting something back he thought he lost for good.
asking military!rafe if he ever wishes he was taller 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚
you were filming. obviously. you had your phone in your hand and the most fake sweet tone in your voice.
“babe?” you called, curled up on the couch with your fuzzy socks on, mug of hot cocoa in your lap and a little too much mischief in your eyes.
rafe—six foot five, 300 pounds of combat-trained, broad-shouldered, terrifying military man—turned around halfway through folding a giant stack of laundry in the kitchen.
he looked like he could break the couch in half if he sat too hard. like his arms didn’t fit in regular shirts. like he’d bench press your car for fun.
“yeah?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. domestic. relaxed. soft for you.
you blinked innocently. “do you ever wish… you were tall?”
the room went silent.
his whole body stilled.
you saw the confusion pass over his face like a storm front. he stared at you for a full three seconds. blinked twice.
“…what?”
you bit your lip, holding in your laughter. “like. taller. do you ever think about that?”
he dropped the towel in his hands and tilted his head. walked very slowly toward you.
you were already giggling when he crouched in front of the couch, forearms braced on his knees, voice low.
“you think i wanna be taller?”
you shrugged, eyes big. “i mean… you’re kinda short.”
he scoffed. scoffed.
“sweetheart, i’m six-five. i can barely fit in our damn bed.”
you sipped your cocoa. “still.”
his mouth twitched. “still?”
you nodded.
he exhaled through his nose and stood up to his full height—towering over you. shadow cast over the couch. you immediately shrank down a little, lips twitching.
“yeah. laugh it up,” he muttered, already picking you up with one arm like you weighed nothing. “real funny coming from the girl who uses my chest as a pillow and cries when i’m gone for more than two days.”
you squealed as he tossed you over his shoulder. “rafe—!”
“short?” he mocked, smacking your ass once, hard. “short? sweetheart, you need a stool to reach the cereal.”
you were giggling and kicking while he carried you upstairs like a sack of flour, he paused halfway.
“wait,” he muttered, “you were filming that?”
you went quiet.
“…no?”
he reached for your phone in your hoodie pocket without missing a beat, pulled it out, flipped the camera toward you.
“say it again,” he said.
you buried your face in his back. “nooooo.”
“say it,” he ordered, grinning now. “say you were lying. say your husband’s the biggest man you’ve ever seen.”
you were giggling into your palm. “fine! you’re so big,” you teased, wiggling. “you’re sooo tall and sooo scary and sooo big and strong.”
he hummed.“damn right.”
and then he turned the camera on himself.
“six-five, three-twenty,” he said to the camera. “bench press a moose. don’t play with me.”
