xio🌙

Rafe slammed the front door behind him, the sound echoing through the quiet house like a thunderclap. It had been one of those days; endless meetings with contractors, dealing with his dad's constant nitpicking over the latest development project, and traffic that felt like it was designed to test his last nerve. All he wanted was a cold beer, a shower, and to collapse into bed with you curled up beside him, your soft presence chasing away the chaos.

He tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter, rubbing the back of his neck as he headed toward the bedroom. "Hey, baby? You home?" he called out, voice rough from the day's strain. No answer. But the door was cracked open, soft lamplight spilling into the hallway. He pushed it open, stepping inside, and froze.

There you were, on the bed, on all fours. Your back arched just slightly, the curve of your spine elegant and inviting under the dim glow. You wore nothing but thigh-high lace socks, the delicate white fabric hugging your legs like a second skin, ending mid-thigh in a pretty bow. Your hair fell over your shoulders, and when you glanced back at him, your eyes were wide and innocent, lips painted a soft pink that matched the color of your nails gripping the comforter.

But it was the sparkle between your ass that hit him like a punch to the gut; a jeweled butt plug, nestled snugly in place, catching the light as you shifted your weight.

Rafe's brain short-circuited. He stood there, mouth parted, heart slamming against his ribs. He'd never brought it up. Not once. Anal had always been one of those things he kept buried deep; every girl before you had shut it down hard, calling it gross or painful or just not their thing. He'd assumed you felt the same; you were so soft, with your lace and perfumes and the way you melted under his touch like you were made for gentle things. But here you were, presenting yourself like a gift, waiting for him.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, voice hoarse. He took a step closer, eyes locked on the plug, then up to your face. "What... baby, what is this?"

You bit your lip, a shy smile tugging at the corners. "Surprise," you said softly, voice like silk. "I know you had a long day. Thought I'd make it better."

He swallowed hard, heat flooding through him as he reached the bed. His hand trembled slightly as he trailed fingers up the back of your thigh, over the lace, up to the curve of your ass. "You... you didn't have to— I mean, I never said anything. Thought you'd hate the idea."

You shook your head, holding his gaze over your shoulder. "I wanted to. For you. I've been thinking about it... practicing a little." Your cheeks burned deeper.

Rafe's breath caught. "Fuck, you're perfect." He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the small of your back, then another lower, his hands gripping your hips. The sight of the plug up close made his dick twitch painfully in his pants. "You sure about this? We can stop anytime."

"I'm sure," you whispered, arching a bit more. "Please, Rafe... take it out. I want you."

His control snapped like a taut wire. With one hand steadying your hip, he gripped the jeweled base of the plug, twisting it gently before pulling it out slowly. You gasped sharply, then whimpered—a soft, needy sound that went straight to his dick—as it slipped free, your body clenching around nothing.

"Shh, baby, I've got you," he murmured, voice low and rough. He set the plug aside, then dipped his head, unable to resist. His tongue traced the sensitive rim, lapping at you with hungry strokes, tasting the faint hint of lube and your natural sweetness. You moaned, pushing back against his face, and he groaned in response, delving deeper, eating your ass like he was starved for it. His hands spread you wider, thumbs teasing the edges as he worked you open with his mouth, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room.

"Rafe, oh God," you whimpered, fingers clutching the sheets.

He pulled back just enough to shed his clothes, his dick springing free, hard and aching. He grabbed the lube from the nightstand and slicked himself generously, then coated his fingers too. Positioning himself behind you, he pressed the tip against your entrance, teasing the tight ring.

"Tell me if it's too much," he grunted, voice strained with restraint.

You nodded, breathing heavy. "Do it. Please."

He pushed in slowly at first, inch by inch, the tightness gripping him like a vice. You gasped, body tensing, but he soothed you with a hand rubbing circles on your back. "Fuck, you're so tight, doing so good for me, baby." Once he was halfway in, the passion took over; he thrust deeper, rougher, hips snapping forward until he was buried to the hilt.

You cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure, but arched back for more. Rafe moaned low in his throat, grunting with each powerful thrust, rough because the sight of you like this had him feral, but passionate, every movement laced with need. "That's it, take my dick," he growled. "My good little slut, surprising me like this, fuck, you feel amazing."

His free hand slipped around to your front, two fingers plunging into your dripping pussy, curling deep while his thumb circled your clit. The double sensation; his dick pounding your ass, fingers fucking you relentlessly, had you trembling, whimpers turning to sobs of pleasure.

"Rafe its too much- gonna—" You shattered, squirting hard around his fingers, soaking the sheets as your body convulsed.

He grunted through it, hips slamming harder, chasing his own release. "Fuck, yeah, come for me, baby." His moans grew louder, ragged, until he thrust one last time, spilling deep inside you with a guttural groan.

He stilled, breathing heavy, then pulled out carefully, watching his cum leak from you. "Shit, baby... You okay?"

You nodded weakly, collapsing onto your stomach. Rafe was there in an instant, scooping you up gently and carrying you to the bathroom. He ran a warm bath, easing you into it before joining you, pulling you against his chest. His hands were soft now, massaging your shoulders, pressing kisses to your damp hair.

"You were incredible," he murmured, voice tender. "Didn't hurt too much?"

"A little, but it was worth it," you whispered, leaning into him.

But he listens. Groaning like he’s too sore for this, Rafe shifts onto his back, broad chest rising and falling as you straddle his waist. His hands go to your thighs immediately, but you push them up and away.

“Uh-uh,” you say, gently guiding his arms over his head, fingers trailing up his thick forearms, until you lace your fingers into his.

“You’re bossy tonight,” he mutters, breathless, jaw tight as he watches you take control.

“You’re bitchy tonight,” you giggle back, all sweet and smug.

“Watch your mouth,” he smirks. “You like pushin’ me, huh?”

“More like love, but yeah,” you taunt, leaning in close, brushing your lips over his jaw. “Let me take care of you, baby.”

You reach across the bed and grab your pink lace panties—discarded in the chaos. Rafe clocks what you’re doing a second too late. His head tips back into the pillow, throat bobbing as he watches you loop them around the headboard, knotting them tight around his wrists.

“Wait—hold on,” he breathes. “You’re actually—”

“Quiet,” you whisper, pressing your finger to his lips. “You keep hurting yourself. You don’t listen. So now? You don’t get to be in charge.”

You shift down his body, soft lips trailing over his stomach, tongue teasing his V-line before your mouth dips lower, nuzzling between his thighs.

“Fuck,” he groans out as your tongue flicks over his balls, warm and slow. You take one into your mouth, then the other, stroking his cock with your hand while you suck. “Jesus Christ, baby—gonna make me lose it.”

“How many times?” You ask fast, breath fanning over his spit-soaked skin, balls tightening, cock twitching in your grip.

“Brat,” he huffs. “So what?” He murmurs, eyes flicking down to you. “You gonna tie me up and just—use me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” you breathe as you crawl back up his body slowly, your fingers skimming the sculpted ridges of his abs, up over his muscular chest, watching his chain sparkle when he sucks in a breath. “You’re so fucking hot, Rafe,” you whisper against his lips. “All beat up; bruised, bloody.”

He groans deeply, like he doesn’t know what to do with the way you’re talking to him—the way your wet pussy’s pressed up against his cock. “Baby…”

Your eyes trace the line of his jaw, the bruise blooming near his cheekbone, the split in his lip. “All fucked up and still the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. It’s disgusting.”

“Disgusting, huh?” He drawls, his voice low and hoarse with it.

“Your greed sickens me, Cameron.”

“Cameron?” He scoffs. “The fuck you callin’ me that for?”

Your mouth curls into a wicked smile, riding high off the control, feeding off the desperation of the beautiful man below you who always seems to have the upper-hand in situations like this.

“Talk to me nice,” he mutters, low and warning. “Talk to me like you love me.”

“I do love you, bitchy.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, dragging the words like they physically pain him. “Bitchy? Bitchy, my ass—” He starts to tug at the restraints, but you shove his chest, pushing him down again.

“Down,” you bite, shoving his chest again for emphasis.

“You hear yourself,” he mutters, eyes glinting as he smirks, tongue darting out to soothe the sting of his broken lip. “Talk. To. Me. Nice. Don't fuckin’ call me Cameron, alright? You’re not my boy—”

“Handsome?” You hum, tracing a finger lower.

“Better,” he mumbles.

“Baby.”

“Even better.”

“Daddy.”

“Fuuuck,” he exhales, hips lifting. “That’s a good one. Sir too—”

“Sir?” You giggle as your fingers wrap around the thick base of his dick, his eyes flutter shut, bruise pooling at his cheekbone. “Seems like quite the title for a man with my panties around his wrists and my fist around his dick?”

“Fuck you.” He growls through a grin.

“Bitch Cameron over here.”

“Suck my fuckin’ dick.”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper through a devilish smile as you move between his legs, smirk dying on your lips as your mouth parts, that dangerous look still dazzling in your eyes as you lick a slow line up the underside of his cock, following a vein, watching his biceps flex as he tests the panties holding him in place.

“You done this before?” He mutters, breath hitching as you swirl your tongue over the tip.

“Done what?” You whisper.

“Tied anyone up.”

“Just you.” You run a line of spit down to his throbbing head. He shivers, feeling it roll down the slit, gliding down the side.

“Fuuuckkk,” he groans, head slamming back into the pillow. “Yeah… that’s it, baby.”

Your lips stretch around his cock, eyes flicking up to watch his reaction. Rafe’s blue eyes flutter shut, mouth falling open, chest lifting as you sink down again. You moan around him, letting the sound buzz up his spine.

“So fuckin’ good,” he pants.

You wrap one hand around the base, slick with spit, and stroke as your mouth works the head, flicking your tongue along the ridge. He groans again—deep and filthy—his fists clenching above his head.

“Shit. Shit—fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he grits through his teeth, muscles locking under you. “Gonna cum in that pretty mouth—”

You pop off his cock with a wicked glint in your eyes, licking your lips. “I’m gonna spit it into your mouth.”

“The fuck you are.” He lets out a low, stunned chuckle. “You wouldn’t.”

“I’ll let you spit it back in mine,” you purr.

Rafe grins, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “Fuckin’ freak, baby,” he chides you. “Nah, pretty. Swallow every damn drop, alright.”

His whole body coils tight, muscles carved like stone, head thrown back into the pillow as you take him back into your mouth; sucking, slurping, gagging, throating his length as he fights back his pleasure.

A loud moan breaks past his lips, filling the room. He hisses out a breath as he feels the sharp sting, bottom lip trembling. “You're killing me. God, damn—just… You’re…” His voice cuts off, too far gone to finish as a spit bubble pops between your lips and the thick length of him—too much for you to take, but you’re trying anyway.

Rafe pitches his hips, meeting you stroke for stroke, eyes pinched as his thigh muscles tremble.

“Fuck me” he whines as he empties into your throat, cock throbbing while his voice breaks into a sobbing, pathetic laugh. “Jesus—oh my god—fuck—” He chokes on his words, hands twisting into fists.

You pull off him slow, kissing his swollen, pulsing tip. He throws his head to the side, pressing his mouth to his bicep, shuttering out a pathetic breath as you kitten-lick his cock; body jumping with each cruel flick.

“Pussy,” he mumbles, voice slurred. “Give it to me—fuckin’ need it, alright?”

You bite your lip, holding back a smile as you crawl up over him—tits brushing his chest, his face flushed, eyes glassy, chest heaving—you wrap your hand around him again, pumping slow as you guide him toward your soaking cunt.

He’s still recovering when you line him up, circling your hips just enough to tease the head against your slick folds.

“Mpfhhh” he mutters, eyes rolling back. “Oh my fucking god, baby—” You slide down on him, hands pressing against his chest, feeling his heart bang like a drum underneath.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you whine as you drag your hips. His eyes lock on the wet place where you connect, lips parted like he's trying to think of something to say but it never comes.

He tugs at the panties roughly, brows pinching, lips snarling as he forgot for a second he was tied up. You giggle meanly, lowering yourself to his mouth.

"Can’t even slap your fuckin’ ass—” CRACK! Your hand smacks against your own skin, cutting off his complaint, and he groans against your mouth like he's getting some sick secondhand pleasure from it. “Bounce for me,” he whispers, and you push off his chest.

Your hands slap down on the metal rail above his head and his eyes snap back.

“Oh—” He gasps. “Shit, pretty.” Your pussy swallows up the length of him, hands braced on the bed frame between his—like you own the room. Like you own him. “Fuck, you're so bad—” His praise slips as you drop, grinding slow as your pussy squeezes around him; thighs quivering from the effort. He groans, louder now, voice breaking as he throws his hips up to meet you, making the whole damn bed creak.

The heat in your belly builds—your heart fluttering in your chest. “You better cum like this—using me. Just do it,” he grits.

Your pussy pulses with your heartbeat, wild and quick as you cum around him; Rafe fucking you so deep your vision blurs.

“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he whispers, the tone of his voice proud like he knows you won't. He knows you're nowhere near done. Nevertheless you slow down, smiling down at him and his lips tug at the corner. “Bitch.”

“Bitch?” You breathe as you stall out completely, cunt dripping down his fat balls making him suck his teeth. “Talk to me nice, Rafe,” you echo, throwing his words back at him. He fights the restraints—the lace tearing slightly.

“Thought you were taking care of me,” he pants.

“I am,” you smile as you start to grind again, nice and slow, swirling your hips.

“I’m hurt… S’only right you let me cum,” he mumbles.

“I don't think you're ready,” you whisper as you reach down, thumb brushing along his lip, smudging a little tear of blood along his chin.

“I could get outta here if I wanted, you know. Lucky I’m playin’ nice.”

You lean down, pressing your lips against his in a searing kiss, pulling back, watching as he chases your lips, hungry for more. “Do it.” —SNAP!

“Shall we begin?” Drew asked, quirking a brow as he looked over at y/n. Y/n nodded excitedly before reaching for the bowl of flour. She took a pinch before spreading it out over her and Drew’s pizza pans. At the same time, Drew grabbed the two portions of dough that sat out in front of them, handing one to y/n.

“Would you guys consider yourself cooks?” The interviewer asked as the two of them began to work the dough between their hands.

“I think so? I like to cook, I don’t know if I’m any good.” Y/n chuckled as she took a ball of dough. Drew’s mouth fell open as he let out an exaggerated scoff.

“Uh, you are definitely a cook. A very good cook.” Drew said. “Definitely a lot better than me. I mean, you remember what happened the last time I tried to cook pizza.”

Y/n gasped before throwing her head back and letting out a laugh at the memory. As she leaned back, her hand instinctually shot out to grasp onto Drew’s arm, leaving a floured handprint on the sleeve of his shirt. Drew grinned, chuckling at the genuine laugh from y/n and entirely ignoring that his arm was now covered in flour.

“Oh my god, how could I forget!?” Y/n cackled, composing herself with a long exhale before turning to the camera. “Drew almost set our apartment on fire cooking a pizza.”

“Like, fire alarm going off, smoke filling up the kitchen, our apartment smelled like burnt dough for a month.” Drew explained as he kneaded his ball of dough. Y/n nodded along as she worked her dough out.

“Do you guys know any pizza-tossing tricks?” The interviewer asked. Y/n scoffed, shaking her head before looking over at Drew who, apparently, had already taken that as a challenge and had begun to stretch his dough out on his finger tips. Drew tossed the dough up a fraction-of-a-fraction-of an inch before looking over at y/n with his mouth agape.

“D’you see that, baby?” Drew said, his voice full of almost childlike excitement. Y/n grinned, her cheeks warming at the use of the pet name. Even though they’ve been together for years, y/n always felt a special rush when Drew would casually drop the name, especially in such a public environment.

“I did,” y/n giggled, “it was very impressive, Drewseph.”

Drew turned towards the camera, wiggling his eyebrows before putting his dough back down on the pan with a cocky shrug. Y/n could see a little flush of pink in his cheeks as Drew smiled to himself as he pressed the dough out.

“What’s your favorite pizza spot?” The interviewer asked.

“Ooh, that is tough.” Y/n said, dusting her hands off on her apron before propping them on her hips. She let out a long exhale, tapping her foot as she thought. She looked over at Drew, who let out a low hum as he thought with an equal intensity.

“There’s a lot of really good places in Charleston…” Drew began, chewing on his bottom lip, “but I think I’m going to have to pick… Vinny’s.”

“Oh, Vinny’s! Yes!” Y/n said, clapping her hands together. A bit of remnant flour came off, a poof of flour dusting the front of y/n’s apron.

“The pizza is amazing,” Drew explained as he drizzled a bit of oil atop his pizza dough, “and we just have so many memories going there with friends and family.”

“The best. But,” Y/n said before pointing to the camera, “you better not blow it up.”

Drew laughed as he handed the oil off to y/n who took it before drizzling a bit on her own pizza dough.

“Yeah, please don’t make it impossible to get a table there.” Drew chuckled as he cleaned his hands off on his apron.

“Ok, I think it’s sauce time?” Y/n asked, turning to Drew.

“Sauce time.” Drew nodded. Y/n grabbed the jar from her side of the counter. She twisted the jar, the stubborn lid not moving even a bit. She wiped a hand on her apron before trying again, putting her whole body into it just for it not to budge again. Before she could even turn to ask Drew to open it, his hand was already outstretched. With a sigh, y/n gave him the jar.

Drew opened it without even flinching.

“Okay, Hercules, thank you.” Y/n scoffed as she took the jar back from Drew. He just grinned to himself, leaning against the counter in a way that subtly flexed his large biceps and, not so coincidentally, made y/n’s cheeks warm.

“It’s part of my job to open jars for her whenever she needs me to.” Drew explained as he watched y/n spreading the sauce atop her pizza dough.

“Your job as a man?” Y/n questioned with a bit of a teasing smirk.

“No, no. Of course not.” Drew chuckled nervously. “As a husband.”

“I know, I was only teasing.” Y/n said, elbowing him playfully before handing him the pizza sauce. Now, as Drew carefully spread his sauce atop his pizza, y/n began looking through the spread of pizza toppings laid out in front of them.

“Do you think pineapple belongs on pizza?” The interviewer asked. Y/n and Drew both looked up from their respective tasks in almost perfect sync, making eye contact with the camera before turning to each other.

“Obviously.” Y/n said.

“Absolutely not.” Drew said at the same time.

Their eyes both widened.

“What?!” Y/n scoffed.

“It’s a fruit!” Drew chuckled, putting the spoon he was using to spread the pizza sauce down and propping a hand on his hip.

“It’s good!” Y/n said with a smile, holding her hands up in faux innocence.

“It’s… wrong.” Drew said, looking down at y/n with a tiny smirk on his lips.

“This is crazy!” Y/n laughed, folding under Drew’s gaze. “I just can’t believe this has never come up in the, what, six years we’ve known each other?”

“Seriously.” Drew grinned. “I had no idea I was married to someone who likes pineapple on pizza.”

“Hopefully you don’t want a divorce now.” Y/n joked with a raise of her brows.

The smile fell from Drew’s face, his head cocking to the side as he looked at y/n with a small frown.

“No, never.” Drew whispered as he reached out to tuck a piece of y/n’s hair behind her ear. “Don’t joke, baby.”

“I know, sorry, darling.” Y/n said with a small pout before leaning onto her tip toes to press a kiss to Drew’s cheek before returning back to her pizza. The smile on Drew’s face returned, along with a slight pinkness in his cheeks.

“While shooting Outer Banks, was there ever a time you guys couldn’t stop laughing?” The interviewer asked as the two of them began picking out toppings for their pizzas.

“I feel like there was never a time we weren’t laughing.” Y/n giggled as she added a tomato slice to her pizza.

“Seriously,” Drew laughed as he popped a pepperoni into his mouth, “it was kind of a problem… we got in trouble a lot.”

“Yeah.” Y/n nodded, smiling at the memories of pranks on set or taking an insane amount of takes to get a scene right because something was just that funny.

“But, I do have one in particular that stands out. To me, at least.” Drew said. “It was during season one at Midsummer.”

“Oh my god, yeah, that one was bad.” Y/n laughed as she added a last sprinkle of cheese atop her pizza.

“It was just so late and everyone had been… drinking.” Drew added with a low chuckle. “So everyone was just dancing and laughing— I mean, we were fully just having our own party— so when it came time to actually shoot scenes, we were really struggling.”

“I vividly remember dancing on the dance floor and—” Y/n let out a sputtering laugh. “And somehow ending up face first and Drew’s armpit and both of us just laughing and falling into each other.”

“I got caught in your dress— it was a catastrophe.” Drew chuckled, dusting his hands off. He looked over at y/n, who grinned at him before dusting her hands off as well.

“Ok, now we’ve got to get these things in the oven.” Y/n said. “Hopefully that is not a catastrophe.”

“Yes, hopefully not…” Drew said, “because I am very hungry.”

“Even after eating all those pepperonis?” Y/n teased. Drew rolled his eyes playfully as the two of them carefully put their pizzas into the oven.

“While your pizzas are cooking, could you help us make ‘The World’s Most Famous Sourdough Starter’?” The interviewer asked.

“‘The World’s Most Famous Sourdough Starter’?” Drew asked. 

“Well, now I’m intrigued.” Y/n said as one of the producers brought out a jar holding the sourdough starter accompanied by the small glass of water and a dish of flour.

“We’d love it if you pour in the water and flour and give the starter a bit of… encouragement.” The producer said. Y/n and Drew shared a quick glance before giving it a shrug and turning to the jar in front of them. Y/n picked up the jar of water and leaned in close to the jar.

“Well… uh, Mr Sourdough,” y/n began, “you’ve got this and… you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Oh, that was good.” Drew whispered, leaning in next to her. “Keep up the good work buddy… you’re doing great.”

Y/n let out a coo, leaning to rest her head on Drew’s shoulder before the two of them pour the flour and water into the jar. Drew gave her hip a small squeeze. A few moments later, the timer from the oven went off and the two of them perked up.

“Oh no, I’m scared.” Y/n said as Drew opened the oven.

“Don’t be, baby, I’m sure yours will be delicious.” Drew said as he took both of their pizzas out of the oven. He carefully transferred them back to their spots on the countertop, y/n immediately beginning to cut into them with a pizza cutter. Drew closed up the oven before returning to his spot by y/n’s side.

“You’re not gonna let them cool down?” Drew asked, watching the steam rising off of the pizzas as y/n cut them.

“You said you were hungry!” Y/n laughed as she finished cutting the last of Drew’s pizza. “... and I am too.”

Drew laughed as he carefully picked up a piece of his pizza. Y/n grinned as she took a piece of her own.

“Cheers?” Drew said, holding his slice out to y/n.

“Cheers.” Y/n chuckled, touching her slice against Drew’s. The two of them took big bites of their respective slices… before promptly letting out high pitched squeals as they burned the roofs of their mouths from the extremely hot pizza. Behind the cameras, the production team chuckled as y/n began fanning her mouth with her hand, Drew letting out a long exhale before he began fanning her with his own hand.

“So, how is it?” The interviewer asked.

“Hot.” Drew said as he finally swallowed his bite. Y/n nodded, grimacing as she swallowed.

“Hot,” y/n repeated, “but very good!”

“Kinda like you.” Drew said. Y/n rolled her eyes, hitting at Drew’s shoulder playfully. He just grinned, taking another bite of his pizza.

“Enough with the flirting,” Y/n said with a wink. “Thank you for having us New York Times!”

“Fank you!” Drew said with a mouthful of pizza before waving to the camera.

He looked like a Roman God with how the amber glow of the fire cascaded across the room, making his skin appear to be shadowed with liquid gold; in more ways than one he looked exquisitely delicious. As sweet as honey.

In one hand; his wand hand – Mattheo spun a thick, oversized candy cane between his fingers; twirling it around whilst mumbling beneath his breath ridiculous ideas for christmas spell incantations like ‘christfringo’ and ‘levisnowsa’. You couldn’t help but chuckle at how absurd and silly he sounded and shook your head as you finished hanging some tinsel Pansy had earlier insisted you finish before heading to bed – discretely glancing over at him as you had been all evening.

Okay – stop; correction. You hadn’t been glancing at Mattheo all night; you’d been eye fucking him. That with the combination of brushing your hands oh so innocently over his thigh during dinner, ‘accidently’ pressing your tits against his arm while hanging ornaments and whispering filthy suggestive promises to him when no one was looking hadn’t made life easy for either of you.

Finishing up with the tinsel, you spun towards him; skirt flirting with your thighs as you paced over to where Mattheo was sitting. Glancing up; those melted chocolate irises of his were blown into trouble as he pat his free hand firmly against his lap and you straddled him without the need for further encouragement.

Fifteen seconds is all it took for him to ruck your skirt up around your waist; let his gaze paint over your silhouette and have his thumb skim across your underwear. It was drenched – something you both knew, but still hadn’t expected. Resting your palms firmly against his chest to push Mattheo back against the couch, you wrapped one hand around his wrist holding the candy and brought the cane in line with your face, dragging it slow across your bottom lip before your tongue flickered out to taste it’s minty sweetness.

Mattheo’s pupils blew double their size.

“You’re playing with fire, Princess..”, he growled; letting you grab hold of the candy cane as both hands moved to grip at your ass; hard enough to leave a bruise.

“Good”, you whispered in reply; sliding the candy cane into your mouth, sucking it deep like you would his cock – hollowed cheeks, plush lips, a soft moan of his name vibrating around it before pushing it in and out of your mouth a few times and pulling it out with a wet pop as your lips and it both glistened with spit. “Felt like burning tonight.”

That was enough for Mattheo to snap. He ran both hands up your sides, cupping your tits for a cheeky squeeze before they travelled upward, curling around the back of your neck to pull you down into a filthy kiss. He shoved his tongue into your mouth with waiting – tasting peppermint mostly and raw desperation with no mercy. You began to grind down against the hardening bulge in his trousers, feeling his cock begin to throb against your core – he was already leaking pre-cum through the dark fabric.

“Mhhm I’ve been fuckin’ hard for you all fucking night”, he snarled against your throat; teeth scraping across that sensitive bit of skin that hid your pulse. “Every time you bent over in this tiny fucking skirt, every time your tits squeezed up perfectly when you were hanging decorations, ever time your head tilted to the side pathetically when you laughed at another guys dumb joke – just wanted to drag you under the trees near the stairs and fuck you raw regardless of the audience.”

You laughed breathlessly, because it was all you could do; hands dropping to rip open the rest of his shirt causing buttons to pop and scatter. Dragging the slick candycane down his chest, you circled a nipple teasingly before sucking the sticky trail off of his skin and biting down hard until he hissed.

“Off”, you ordered, half shifting up as you tugged at his belt. “Want your cock in my mouth before I ride you into this fucking couch.”

Mattheo groaned, lifting his hips as he fumbled and you assisted in yanking his trousers down; boxers following too. Red with tiny Santa hats printed on them. Oh – that was too fucking cute. You’d have to tell Theodore in the morning to help you make fun of him.

Mattheo’s cock sprang free – 7 inches of thick, flushed glory, dripping at the tip. You didn’t hesitate. Dropping to your knees, you wrapped your lips around him; tongue swirling the head to savour the beadings of precum he offered before taking him deep; letting his tip hit the back of your throat as you hummed the tune of ‘we wish you a merry christmas’ against him. The leftover tease of peppermint the walls of your mouth made him buck up into your mouth wildly.

“Fuck--.. feels good”, he panted; fingers tangling into your hair to guide you faster, deeper, rougher. You gagged whenever he hit the back of your throat, the sounds that of every boys dreams and he drooled at the way spit fell from your lips and ran down your chin; only causing him to thrust harder and curse beneath his breath.

Pulling your mouth off of him with a gasp; a string of saliva connected your lips to his cock and right now, Mattheo thought you looked heavenly. “Oh my little angel – so pure she should be perched on top of the tree.”

Grinning at his comment, you spun the candy cane in your palm, hooking it’s curve around his cock so that the half melted candy could be stroked up and down his shaft, coating Mattheo with a delicious sugar. His head slammed back against the couch. “Fucking Salazar..”

Licking him up from base to tip with a flat tongue, you traced along every vein just for fun; lapping at the sweet mess that you’d made and sucked off the peppermint flavour that was mixing with precum until Mattheo was shaking; his hips jerking, his hands clawing at the soft leather of the couch as he began to beg desperately in broken whimpers.

“P-please – fuck – need.. -- to be.. inside of you.”

How could you deny him? It was Christmas eve after all.

Standing just long enough to shove your soaked panties to one side; you positioned yourself over his tip in his lap; sinking down onto his cock in a single, brutal slide. The stretched burned perfectly; his cock filling you so deep that you saw stars even whilst indoors.

“Fuck.. Matty”, you moaned; eyes rolling back as you raked your nails down his chest and began riding him. Hard. Why bother with soft and sweet. Lifting yourself up a few inches, you slammed your hips down every opportunity you god; taking him to the hilt time after time after time. The couch creaked beneath the weight and actions of you both; the sound of skin on skin echoing obscenely in the empty common room.

Mattheo’s hands dropped to grip at your hips; bruising in touch as he guided you down faster and faster. “That’s – oh.. fuck that’s it. Such a good girl. Fuck yourself on my cock like the dirty fucking slut that you are.”

You moaned and tossed your head back; as a finger of his found your clit to tease. “Been dripping for this all night, haven’t ya? Bet you’ve been wanting me to fuck you stupid.”

“God.. oh – fuck.. yes..”, you moaned; trying to move his hand out of the way to circle at your clit a little faster but he wouldn’t let you. Instead, Mattheo picked up the pace of frantic tiny circles and pressed down hard enough it caused your whole body to shake.

“You gonna come on my cock, Princess?”, he demanded with an answer and all you could do was babble out an incompressible yes as he thrust into you viciously, hitting that spongey spot inside of you that made you scream. “I wanna feel this tight little cunt milk me.”

Oh, that was it. You shattered – walls clenching around him so hard that Mattheo’s back arched off the couch as you came with a choked sob; dripping all over his cock and your thighs – juices mixing with his cum to soak his lap. Mattheo followed right after you slamming you down one last time on his length as he spilled deep inside you with a guttural, “Fuck.. take it.”

Hot pulses painted your insides and filled you as he continued to come; hips stuttering against your own. His hands found their way down to your lower back; pulling you in close as he choked on a few breaths; hands dropping so that he could again, dig his fingertips into the peachness of your ass like he’d never let go.

You collapse against his sweat slicken chest; both of you panting; his cock still twitching inside of you and your thighs sticky with melted peppermint, sugar, spit and well.. him. Pressing a messy kiss into the crook of your neck; Mattheo let his fingers knot into your hair as he kept you close. So close; for the first time ever after sex you could feel his heart beat.

“Merry fucking Christmas to me.”

Oh – that made you smirk. Clenching one more time around Mattheo deliberately, you felt his whole body groan. “We’re just getting started Riddle. I’ve got a half box of candy canes left back in my dorm.”

the familiar rumble of his truck on the gravel driveway was the only sound that mattered. it was a sound you’d dreamed of for five long months, a sound that signaled the end of lonely nights and the start of having your other half back where he belonged. you heard the car doors open, the excited yapping of your two dogs, and then the unmistakable sound of your children’s joyful shrieks.

“daddy’s home! haddy’s home!”

you wiped your hands on a dish towel, your heart hammering against your ribs. you took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

you’d been planning this moment, this little surprise, for weeks. it was a welcome-home gift, one just for him.

the front door swung open, and there he was. your husband.

somehow more imposing than the man who’d left. the tan he’d picked up overseas was dark against his sand-colored camo uniform, his hair cropped short, those blue eyes sharp and scanning the room until they landed on you.

“baby,” he breathed out.

you were moving before you even realized it, your bare feet flying across the wooden floor. you launched yourself into his arms, and he caught you effortlessly, lifting you off your feet.

he buried his face in your neck, his arms a steel band around your waist, holding you so tight you could barely breathe.

“fuck, I missed you,” he growled against your skin. “missed this. missed you.”

“missed you too, soldier,” you whispered, your hands tangling in the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

he set you down but didn’t let go, he leaned in to to give you a kiss before a small cough broke the spell. You pulled back to see miles and zara staring up with wide, adoring eyes.

“hey, my little monsters,” rafe said, his voice thick with emotion. he knelt down, and the kids swarmed him, a tangle of limbs and happy tears. he hugged them both, kissing the tops of their heads, murmuring how much he’d missed them.

after a few minutes, he stood, ruffling miles’s hair. “why don’t you two go tell the horses goodnight? mama and i need a minute.”

they didn’t need to be told twice as they took off running towards the stables.

after they were out of sight, he turned his full attention back to you. the look in his eyes was primal, a hunger that had been building for months.

“c’mon baby. let’s go upstairs.”

you led the way, your hand in his and once the bedroom door was shut, he was on you again, backing you up against the wood until it hit the wall with a soft thud. his hands were everywhere, tugging at the simple t-shirt you wore

“need to see you, baby,” he rasped, his lips trailing fire down your neck.

you let him pull the shirt over your head. you hadn't bothered with a bra, knowing this moment was coming. the cool air hit your bare skin, and you watched his face as his eyes dropped to your chest.

he froze.

his hands, which had been moving to cup your breasts, stopped mid-air. his gaze was locked on your nipples, now adorned with small, silver barbells. the tiny jewels glinted in the soft light of the room.

his brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion, and then something intense.

he slowly raised a hand, his calloused fingertip tracing the curve of your breast before hovering just over the new piercing.

“you…” he started, his voice barely a whisper. he looked from your chest back up to your eyes, his own wide with a mix of shock and raw, unadulterated lust. “you got your nipples pierced?”

you just nodded, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across your lips. “a welcome-home present.”

a low, dangerous chuckle rumbled in his chest. “jesus woman.”

he finally let his thumb brush against the metal bar. the coolness of the metal contrasted with the heat of your skin, and you couldn't stop the sharp gasp that escaped you. the sensation was electric, sending a jolt straight down to your core.

his eyes darkened at your reaction. “it’s sensitive?”

“very,” you breathed.

“fuck me.” He leaned down, his warm breath ghosting over your breast. he looked up at you one last time, a silent question in his eyes, and you gave him a slight nod.

that was all the permission he needed.

his tongue darted out, swirling around the peak, deliberately avoiding the metal. you whimpered, your hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into the thick fabric.

he was teasing you, testing the new territory. then, he gently closed his lips around the piercing, sucking softly.

“rafe,” you moaned, your head falling back against the door. it was a different kind of pleasure, sharp and intense and so fucking good.

he released you with a wet pop. “you have no idea what you’ve done, do you, mama?” he moved to the other breast, giving it the same agonizingly perfect treatment. “no fuckin’ idea.”

he straightened up, his hands going to the buckle on his belt. The metallic clink was loud in the quiet room. He stripped off his uniform with methodical speed, his eyes never leaving yours. When he was naked, his cock stood proud and thick, the tip already glistening.

he grabbed you, lifting you again as if you weighed nothing and carried you to the bed, tossing you down onto the soft quilt. he followed you down, covering your body with his, his weight a familiar comfort.

“gonna take my time with you,” he promised s his breath ghosted against your ear.

a/n; mind u… they kids still outside and they fuckin 😞

©luvelola. do not plagiarize or repost any of my work as your own.

military!rafe taglist:

what you didn't realize was that the lazy smile on your lips that made your eyes crinkle in the corners struck him like the lightning outside.

"what can i get for you?" you asked, cocking your head to the side, forcing rafe to get his mind out of the gutter as he cleared his throat, blinking abruptly as he sat next to you, "uh, whatever's the best."

"everything's pretty much just mediocre." you laughed, "earl's kind of a crap cook. i haven't seen you around before, and... you don't really look like our usual clientele, i can't lie." you nodded your head towards the trucker, "what's your name?"

"i'm rafe. rafe cameron. just... coming here for a holiday." you smiled softly, telling him your name and stretching your hand out, "nice to meet you, rafe."

"nice to meet you too." rafe cleared his throat, "what are you reading?" "oh, don't even get me started." you laughed. the two of you talked until the closing hour, even as everyone else in the diner left, both of you nearly dead on your feet by the time the storm started to ease up.

"looks like this is where we separate." you smile, taking your umbrella out, "have a safe trip home."

"you too. where's your car? let me walk you to it."

"oh, i came by a bus, it should be here in thirty minutes." "what? no, no bus. i'll give you a ride home." "you don't have-" "i'm giving you a ride home. come on."

the boy held out his hand for you, and for a moment, you thought about all the warnings your mother gave you about strangers; to never give them your personal information, to never get in a car with them... but you'd gotten to know him for the past few hours. technically, he wasn't a stranger. and you always carried pepper spray.

"alright." you chuckled, taking his hand, tucking the umbrella under your arm, the two of you rushing to the bmw that was parked just across the street, but no matter how fast you ran, when you got to his car, both of you had still gotten soaked.

and as soon as you were inside the car, both of you burst into laughter.

you two talked throughout the entire drive to your house, and once rafe pulled up in front of the small home, you found yourself not wanting to leave the warmth of his car, not wanting to leave his company.

"do you... wanna come inside? you can dry out a bit, and i can make you some tea, or coffee." "i'd love to, but i should probably be heading to where i'm staying." "oh, alright." you chuckled softly, "well, i hope to see you around, rafe." "i'm sure you will."

little did you know, was that you'd see the man much sooner than you expected.

the next day, as you walked in through the back door of the diner for your afternoon shift, taking your coat off and putting it into your locker as rita walked to the back with a mischievous grin on her lips, "what's going on?" you asked, furrowing your brows, "the guy from last night is here. he's been here for the past hour."

"alright." you laughed softly, "what does that have to do with me?" "don't be daft! he's obviously here to see you." "don't be ridiculous." you laugh softly, feeling your cheeks warm up, "then why did he ask you if you had a shift today?" you bit down on your lower lip, "he did?" "go on! see for yourself."

when you walked to the front of the diner, you spotted rafe sitting on the same stool he'd been sitting on the night before; this time, instead of wearing a suit, he was wearing a sweater, looking much more comfortable and casual than he had, his fingers gliding over a laptop keyboard, a cup of coffee sitting next to him.

you walked up to him with a perky smile, leaning on the counter right next to his laptop, "you know, if you're gonna keep sitting there all day, i'm gonna have to charge you rent. this isn't a library."

rafe let out a soft chuckle, closing his laptop and narrowing his eyes, "if it means i get to look at your face all day then let me sign a lease."

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the warmth in your cheeks, "that was incredibly cheesy. what were you working on?" "just some work stuff. boring stuff." "i thought you were supposed to be on holiday." "i am. unfortunately running your own company means you kinda gotta be available for work even during holidays." rafe clears his throat, "what time do you get off of work?"

"at six. why?" "i wanna take you out. let me." you raised your brows, standing up straight, "aren't you supposed to ask me?" "i'll pick you up at six." rafe grinned, taking a money clip out of his pocket and placing a hundred-dollar bill on the counter and grabbing his laptop, "for the coffee." he grinned.

"okay, show-off." you laughed softly, watching as rafe walked out of the diner with a wave of his free hand and you placed the bill into the tip jar.

rafe picked you up from in front of the diner after you'd changed into a change of clothes you kept in your locker, and you were now sitting on his passenger seat, fidgeting with your necklace, "where are we going?"

"i didn't really think about that. haven't been here in years." "you used to live here?" "yeah, i grew up here. but when i still lived here, there wasn't anyone as pretty as you here. when'd you move here?" rafe grinned, "there you again, being cheesy." you laughed softly, "i moved here a few years ago to take care of my grandma." "was she sick..?" "she was." you gave him a tight-lipped smile, and rafe nodded, understanding what you were trying to convey.

you pursed your lips in thought, before turning to rafe, "i have an idea for what we can do."

rafe sat on a picnic blanket in your backyard, watching as you hung up a large, white sheet on a rope tied between two trees, a projector set up behind him.

you hopped off the stool you'd used to hang up the sheet, settling down on the blanket, next to rafe, pressing a few buttons on your computer, the intro to the movie starting to play.

you dug through a cooler, grabbing two beers and handing one to rafe, the man uncorking it with a grin, "are all your dates this fancy?"

"date? who said anything about a date? i just agreed to go out with you, and we're out." you nudged him teasingly, moving closer to him as you pulled a knitted blanket over you. "god, you break my heart." rafe exclaimed dramatically, and you winked in response, resting your head on rafe's shoulder.

for the next week, rafe came to the diner every day. the only thing he'd order was a cup of coffee, insisting on you telling him what time you got off work, then telling you that he'd pick you up at that time, leaving a hundred-dollar tip and walking out, and he wasn't even a minute late, even once.

you spent your moments away from the diner walking around parks, eating in small, quaint cafés, watching movies in your backyard... you occasionally hugged, sometimes you'd intertwine your fingers as you walked under yellow streetlights, your head would rest on his shoulder while you would watch movies, but you'd never kiss.

there were moments when you were close to kissing; when the movie was over, and you'd lift your head up, your eyes almost drawn to his blue ones until they flickered to his lips, rafe's eyes doing the same until he'd turn his face away and clear his throat, or when you'd get whipped cream on your nose from the hot chocolate you'd order and rafe would lean in to wipe it away with a chuckle and a roll of his eyes.

usually rafe was much more talkative, but during your drive to a cliffside that looked over parts of the island, he seemed to be doing nothing but letting out hums of agreement and nodding at whatever you said, and even now, as you sat on the hood of his car, he was quiet.

"rafe?" you tilted your head, trying to seek eye contact, "is everything alright?" "hm?" rafe turned his head from the sky to you, nodding. "yeah, everything's alright."

"are you sure? you've been kind of quiet." "i've just been in my head. y'know, i've had a great time with you the past week."

"you know, that sounds eerily like the start of a cheesy 'it's not you, it's me', type of break-up monologue despite us not dating." you laughed softly, rafe letting out a chuckle of his own as you took a sip of the beer rafe had stashed in his backseat, "nah. but it is sort of a... goodbye speech." "a goodbye speech?"

"yeeeah. i'm gonna be going back to new york. just had some stuff to work out with my dad here." rafe cleared his throat, taking a chug of his own beer, "getting to spend time with you has definitely been the highlight of my trip."

"yeah, i mean, hanging out with you has also been alright, i guess." you shrugged, making the man roll his eyes, "so, tonight's your last night here, then?" "yeah. i'm heading out in the morning."

you smiled, your warm hand going to rafe's chin, turning his head so he was facing you, eyebrows raised in curiosity, "then i think we should make it count."

before rafe could utter another word, or before he could try to turn his head away from you, you'd brought your lips to his, kissing him slowly, savoring the time you had left, rafe's hand on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him.

you ended up in the backseat of rafe's bmw, your body under his, your panties in the pocket of his discarded jeans, your legs wrapped around his body.

"fuck, rafe..." you moaned, as he thrust into you, his lips on your neck, your back arching off the leather underneath you, his warm hands exploring you're body.

"you're so beautiful..." he whispered breathily, snapping his hips forward in a way that made you dig your fingernails into his skin; every single thrust of his hips felt like a love poem just for you, and rafe seemed to interpret each roll of your hips as a response to them, your bodies chasing ecstasy.

until eventually, once you'd both come down from your respective highs, and you rested your head on rafe's chest, listening to his heartbeat, tracing the muscles on his abdomen.

afterwards, rafe drove you to your house in comfortable silence, your hands together, your fingers intertwined. you let out a sigh when he parked in front of your house, bringing his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"are you sure you don't wanna come in? you could sleep over and leave from there?" "i wish." rafe chuckled, brushing a strand of loose hair behind your ear, "but i shouldn't. dunno if i could get out of bed if i get to sleep next to you."

"there you go again, being cheesy." you laugh, "i should've demanded five bucks from you every time you say something cheesy that would make a romcom lead swoon over you. you're lucky i'm more of a final girl, or else you'd be in trouble."

rafe grinned, "lucky me."

"this was a great week. you should let me know if you're ever in town again. i might carve a few minutes of my time out of my schedule for you." "i will."

you pressed a small kiss on rafe's cheek, taking your hand from his, "until next time." "until next time."

rafe watched as you got out of his car, skipping up the steps leading to your door, turning his way one more time and waving your hand at him, the man repeating the gesture, but once you disappeared behind the door and it closed behind you, he let out an exasperated sigh, watching as lights turned on in your window behind sheer curtains.

"what are you saying? he just left?" rita asked next day at work, her hands on her hips, "after you spent the whole week together?" "yes." you shrugged, wiping down the counter. "he texted me a few hours ago telling me he was on the road."

"oh, sweetheart. i'm sorry. i know you really liked him." the older woman said, the tone of her voice screaming pity. "and he really seemed to like you."

"it's not that deep." you rolled your eyes, "we just knew each other for a week. nothing special. he was a nice dude, but he lives hours away. it's cool."

"mmhm." rita nodded, her eyes narrowed.

you'd been on the closing shift, and by the time you'd locked up the diner, it was raining and the sky was pitch-black, and as you ran to the bus stop, you couldn't help but reminisce about the day you'd met, the way you both had burst into laughter once you got to his car, realizing that neither of you had been spared from getting wet no matter how hard you'd tried; now you stood under the glass-roof of the bus stop, bursting into laughter all by yourself.

once you got home, you changed out of your wet clothes into a large, warm sweatshirt, drying yourself with a towel, resting it over your shoulder when you spotted the black jacket on the back of your sofa. you smiled, lifting it to your nose and inhaling, a small smile taking over your lips as you recognized the smell of his cologne.

"you gotta try this!" you lifted up your ice cream cone towards rafe, who in turn held his out for you, "only if you try mine." he'd grinned, the two of you swapping ice creams. you took a small bite of his, humming before you switched back, "i definitely prefer mine." "yeah, i think i prefer yours too." rafe grinned.

but once you'd finished eating the ice creams, a cold shiver ran down your spine, goosebumps appearing on your skin, "are you seriously cold?" rafe laughed, "i told you that it was a terrible idea to get ice cream this late into the year."

"but ice cream's good for you, no matter the season."

"i think you just made that up." rafe laughed softly, pulling his suit jacket off, wrapping it over your shoulders, "you know, if i was a romcom protagonist, i'd tell you that you don't have to give your jacket to me, but you'd insist, but i'm too comfortable in this to do that." you grinned up at him.

you were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell ringing, your brows knitting together in confusion as you looked to the clock; it was already a little over ten. placing down the jacket, you made your way to the door, pulling it open.

rafe stood at your door, pushing back his wet hair, a distressed look on his face.

"rafe?" you furrowed your brows, "what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be in new york?"

"i was halfway there." he spoke over the pouring rain, "but then i thought of you and what a great week i had with you, and how much i hate that it had to end so soon and i just fuckin'... i don't know, i just turned around."

"that is a totally cheesy romcom move." you raised your brows, "i know." rafe grinned, "but i have a theory." "oh yeah? and what's your theory?" "you secretly love when i say something cheesy. you just like pretending that you don't."

"you know you need to have evidence for your theory to stick?"

"then let me prove it to you." rafe mumbled, before pulling you to him by your waist, pressing his lips on yours.

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the air smelled of the farmhouse smelled of coffee and the sweet, buttery scent of the pancakes rafe was flipping. 

he was shirtless, a pair of old sweatpants slung low on his hips, his dog tags resting against the hard planes of his chest. 

you watched him, a contented smile on your face, as you sipped your coffee. this was your favorite version of him: completely at home in his kitchen, focused on the life he has in his room. 

“these are almost done, baby,” he said, his voice a low, affectionate rumble. 

he slid a perfectly golden pancake onto a plate and set it in front of you. “made ‘em just how you like ‘em.”

you leaned over the counter, grabbing the bottle of syrup and your fork. “you’re too good to me, cameron.”

he smiled in your direction, grabbing the roll of napkins by the cabinet to rip you one. “just tryin’ to keep my best girl happy.”

and you were happy. blissfully so. with the kids at your mom’s for the night, the farm was your own private paradise.

“alright,” he said, moving around the counter to give you a peek on the cheek. “i’m gonna go check on the horses in the east pasture. fencerow looked a little loose yesterday. you think you can handle the goats?” 

“i think i can manage the goats,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “i’ve only been doing it for, like, six years.”

“i know, i know,” he chuckled, grabbing his flannel shirt from the back of the chair. “just be careful with the mineral feed. the new bag came in yesterday, it’s the high-copper blend for the does. don’t let the bucks get anywhere near it.”

“yes, sir,” you grinned as he shrugged on his shirt and headed out the door, his boots crunching on the gravel. 

you watched him go before you finished your coffee and cleaned up the kitchen, so you could head out to the barn. 

the goats were bleating, their eager faces pressed against the gate of their pen. 

you grabbed the feed scoop and the new bag of mineral blocks, your mind already halfway through your to-do list for the day. 

you remembered his warning about the bucks, they were in a separate pen, thank god, but you were so used to the routine, so confident in your knowledge, that you didn’t double-check the label on the bag. 

you just tore it open, scooped out the powdery feed, and spread it in the troughs for all the goats, does and bucks alike, before moving on to your next task. 

it was a small mistake, a moment of carelessness born of comfort and routine. 

a mistake that would have serious consequences.

an hour later, you were weeding the vegetable garden when you heard rafe shouting your name. it wasn’t his usual call, the casual sound that often carried across the fields. 

this was sharp, frantic, and filled with a kind of panic you’d never heard from him before.

you dropped your trowel and ran towards the barn, your heart hammering against your ribs. 

you found him standing in the goat pen, his body rigid with fury. 

one of the younger bucks, a typically feisty boy named bo, was lying on the ground, his body twitching, his head tilted at an unnatural angle.

“rafe, what’s wrong?” you cried, rushing to his side.

he didn’t even look at you. his eyes were fixed on the suffering animal, his face a mask of cold, hard fury. 

“what’s wrong? what’s wrong?” he finally turned to you, and the look in his eyes made you flinch. it was ice. 

“i told you to use the high-copper feed for the does only. i told you not to let the bucks near it.”

your blood ran cold. you looked from the distressed animal to the empty bag of feed lying on the ground, the bold words “HIGH-COPPER FORMULA” screaming at you from the plastic. 

copper toxicity. 

the words from the farming manual you’d read years ago flashed in your mind. fatal in bucks. 

“oh my god,” you whispered, your hand flying to your mouth. “rafe, i… i didn’t… i wasn’t thinking. i just grabbed the new bag.”

“you weren’t thinking?” he repeated, his voice rising to a volume you’d never heard him direct at you. it wasn’t just loud; it was laced with a steely disappointment that cut deeper than any shout. “jesus christ, y/n! this isn’t a game! this isn’t like forgetting to buy milk! these are living creatures, our livelihood! how could you be so careless?”

his words were like physical blows. you had never seen him like this, never been on the receiving end of this kind of anger from him. 

he was always so patient, so gentle with you. to see him look at you with such cold, undisguised fury was devastating.

“i’m so sorry,” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. “i swear, i didn’t mean to.”

“‘sorry’ doesn’t fix this!” he roared, gesturing wildly at the suffering goat. “‘sorry’ doesn’t stop him from dying! i can’t… i can’t even look at you right now.”

he turned his back on you, his shoulders rigid as he knelt beside the buck, his voice low as he tried to soothe the animal, a stark contrast to the rage he’d just unleashed on you. 

the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, hot and silent, as you turned and fled, not to the house, but to the fields, needing to put as much distance between you and the crushing weight of his disappointment as possible.

you didn’t see him again for hours. you hid in the old tool shed, your face buried in your knees, letting the grief and guilt consume you. 

you weren’t just upset over disappointing rafe but you had been the reason that one of the lives you had been in charge of, was threatened because of your lack of attention.

by the time the sun began to set, painting the sky in strokes of orange and purple, you finally made your way back to the house. the lights were on, and the door was unlocked. 

you found him in the living room, sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. the fury was gone, replaced by a deep, profound sorrow that was somehow even worse.

he looked up when you entered, his eyes red-rimmed and shadowed. “he didn’t make it,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“i’m so sorry, rafe,” you whispered, standing by the door, too afraid to come closer.

“i know,” he sighed, rubbing his face. “i know you are. and i’m… i’m sorry for how i talked to you. there’s no excuse. i was scared, and i took it out on you. that’s not who i want to be. not with you.”

he held out a hand to you, a silent invitation. 

you hesitated for only a second before you crossed the room and took it, letting him pull you down onto his lap. 

his arms came around you, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe, and you buried your face in his neck, inhaling his familiar scent of hay and sweat.

“i’m so, so sorry,” the guilt breaking free again.

“shhh, i know,” he murmured, his lips pressing against your head. “it was an accident. a stupid, terrible accident, but it was an accident. we all make mistakes, baby. i shouldn’t have… i never should have raised my voice at you. i swear, it’ll never happen again.”

you pulled back, looking into his eyes. they were full of a desperate, aching love that washed away the last of your fear. 

you saw the regret there, the self-loathing for his own actions.

you leaned in and kissed him softly which was meant to be a gesture of forgiveness, of reconciliation, but it ignited instantly. 

rafe responded with a groan, his hands gripped the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a desperate, searching hunger.

he stood up, lifting you with him as if you weighed nothing, and carried you to the bedroom, his mouth never leaving yours. 

he laid you down on the bed gently, as if you were made of glass, and then he was over you, his body covering yours, his weight a comforting, familiar presence.

his kisses trailed from your mouth down your jaw, to the sensitive skin of your neck. 

he wasn’t in a rush. he was savoring you, rediscovering you, as if it had been years instead of hours since he’d last touched you. his hands roamed your body, reacquainting themselves with your curves, his touch both worshipful and possessive.

he slid your shirt over your head and reached behind you to unclip your bra, his eyes darkening as they took in the sight of your breasts. he lowered his head, his warm, wet mouth closing over one pebbled nipple. 

you gasped, your back arching off the bed as a jolt of pure pleasure shot through you. 

he suckled gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak, his other hand coming up to knead your other breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over the nipple. 

he worshipped your breasts with focused intensity, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to drive you to the brink of madness.

“rafe,” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to you. “please.”

he lifted his head, his eyes burning with desperation and aching need.

he shed his clothes quickly then pressed his naked body against yours. 

he kissed you again, deep and slow, as his hand slid down your stomach, his fingers dipping between your thighs to find you slick and ready for him. 

he groaned into your mouth as he slid one finger inside you, then another, his thumb circling your clit with a perfect, maddening pressure.

“i need you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i need to be inside you.”

you didn’t have to be told twice. you rolled him over, straddling his hips, taking control. 

you reached between you, gripping his cock and guiding him to your entrance. 

you sank down onto him slowly, taking him inch by inch, your eyes locked on his. you both moaned as he filled you completely. 

you began to move, a slow, rolling rhythm as you braced your hands on his chest, your hips swaying, taking him deep inside you over and over again. 

his hands were on your waist, guiding you, his thumbs stroking your skin. he watched you, his eyes dark and hooded. 

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky. “riding me like that. fuck, i love you.”

“i love you too,” you whimpered, your pace quickening as the pleasure began to build. 

you leaned forward, pressed against his chest as you kissed him, a messy, desperate clash of tongues and teeth. 

his hands moved from your waist to your ass, gripping you hard as he thrust up to meet you, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding.

the angle was perfect, hitting that spot deep inside you that made your toes curl. 

the pleasure coiled in your belly, tight and hot, and you knew you were close. 

rafe could feel it too.

“that’s it, baby,” he grunted, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. “come for me. let me feel you.”

his words were your undoing. with a cry you shattered. 

your orgasm ripped through you, a powerful, all-consuming wave of ecstasy that left you shaking and breathless. 

rafe followed you over the edge a moment later, his body tensing as he emptied himself inside you with a guttural groan of your name.

you collapsed against his chest, your body limp and sated, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ear. 

you stayed like that for a long time, your bodies tangled together, your breathing slowly returning to normal.

he rolled you over, tucking you into his side as he got up and made his way into the bathroom to grab a rag, but not before kissing your forehead and lips. 

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what you didn't realize was that the lazy smile on your lips that made your eyes crinkle in the corners struck him like the lightning outside.

"what can i get for you?" you asked, cocking your head to the side, forcing rafe to get his mind out of the gutter as he cleared his throat, blinking abruptly as he sat next to you, "uh, whatever's the best."

"everything's pretty much just mediocre." you laughed, "earl's kind of a crap cook. i haven't seen you around before, and... you don't really look like our usual clientele, i can't lie." you nodded your head towards the trucker, "what's your name?"

"i'm rafe. rafe cameron. just... coming here for a holiday." you smiled softly, telling him your name and stretching your hand out, "nice to meet you, rafe."

"nice to meet you too." rafe cleared his throat, "what are you reading?" "oh, don't even get me started." you laughed. the two of you talked until the closing hour, even as everyone else in the diner left, both of you nearly dead on your feet by the time the storm started to ease up.

"looks like this is where we separate." you smile, taking your umbrella out, "have a safe trip home."

"you too. where's your car? let me walk you to it."

"oh, i came by a bus, it should be here in thirty minutes." "what? no, no bus. i'll give you a ride home." "you don't have-" "i'm giving you a ride home. come on."

the boy held out his hand for you, and for a moment, you thought about all the warnings your mother gave you about strangers; to never give them your personal information, to never get in a car with them... but you'd gotten to know him for the past few hours. technically, he wasn't a stranger. and you always carried pepper spray.

"alright." you chuckled, taking his hand, tucking the umbrella under your arm, the two of you rushing to the bmw that was parked just across the street, but no matter how fast you ran, when you got to his car, both of you had still gotten soaked.

and as soon as you were inside the car, both of you burst into laughter.

you two talked throughout the entire drive to your house, and once rafe pulled up in front of the small home, you found yourself not wanting to leave the warmth of his car, not wanting to leave his company.

"do you... wanna come inside? you can dry out a bit, and i can make you some tea, or coffee." "i'd love to, but i should probably be heading to where i'm staying." "oh, alright." you chuckled softly, "well, i hope to see you around, rafe." "i'm sure you will."

little did you know, was that you'd see the man much sooner than you expected.

the next day, as you walked in through the back door of the diner for your afternoon shift, taking your coat off and putting it into your locker as rita walked to the back with a mischievous grin on her lips, "what's going on?" you asked, furrowing your brows, "the guy from last night is here. he's been here for the past hour."

"alright." you laughed softly, "what does that have to do with me?" "don't be daft! he's obviously here to see you." "don't be ridiculous." you laugh softly, feeling your cheeks warm up, "then why did he ask you if you had a shift today?" you bit down on your lower lip, "he did?" "go on! see for yourself."

when you walked to the front of the diner, you spotted rafe sitting on the same stool he'd been sitting on the night before; this time, instead of wearing a suit, he was wearing a sweater, looking much more comfortable and casual than he had, his fingers gliding over a laptop keyboard, a cup of coffee sitting next to him.

you walked up to him with a perky smile, leaning on the counter right next to his laptop, "you know, if you're gonna keep sitting there all day, i'm gonna have to charge you rent. this isn't a library."

rafe let out a soft chuckle, closing his laptop and narrowing his eyes, "if it means i get to look at your face all day then let me sign a lease."

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the warmth in your cheeks, "that was incredibly cheesy. what were you working on?" "just some work stuff. boring stuff." "i thought you were supposed to be on holiday." "i am. unfortunately running your own company means you kinda gotta be available for work even during holidays." rafe clears his throat, "what time do you get off of work?"

"at six. why?" "i wanna take you out. let me." you raised your brows, standing up straight, "aren't you supposed to ask me?" "i'll pick you up at six." rafe grinned, taking a money clip out of his pocket and placing a hundred-dollar bill on the counter and grabbing his laptop, "for the coffee." he grinned.

"okay, show-off." you laughed softly, watching as rafe walked out of the diner with a wave of his free hand and you placed the bill into the tip jar.

rafe picked you up from in front of the diner after you'd changed into a change of clothes you kept in your locker, and you were now sitting on his passenger seat, fidgeting with your necklace, "where are we going?"

"i didn't really think about that. haven't been here in years." "you used to live here?" "yeah, i grew up here. but when i still lived here, there wasn't anyone as pretty as you here. when'd you move here?" rafe grinned, "there you again, being cheesy." you laughed softly, "i moved here a few years ago to take care of my grandma." "was she sick..?" "she was." you gave him a tight-lipped smile, and rafe nodded, understanding what you were trying to convey.

you pursed your lips in thought, before turning to rafe, "i have an idea for what we can do."

rafe sat on a picnic blanket in your backyard, watching as you hung up a large, white sheet on a rope tied between two trees, a projector set up behind him.

you hopped off the stool you'd used to hang up the sheet, settling down on the blanket, next to rafe, pressing a few buttons on your computer, the intro to the movie starting to play.

you dug through a cooler, grabbing two beers and handing one to rafe, the man uncorking it with a grin, "are all your dates this fancy?"

"date? who said anything about a date? i just agreed to go out with you, and we're out." you nudged him teasingly, moving closer to him as you pulled a knitted blanket over you. "god, you break my heart." rafe exclaimed dramatically, and you winked in response, resting your head on rafe's shoulder.

for the next week, rafe came to the diner every day. the only thing he'd order was a cup of coffee, insisting on you telling him what time you got off work, then telling you that he'd pick you up at that time, leaving a hundred-dollar tip and walking out, and he wasn't even a minute late, even once.

you spent your moments away from the diner walking around parks, eating in small, quaint cafés, watching movies in your backyard... you occasionally hugged, sometimes you'd intertwine your fingers as you walked under yellow streetlights, your head would rest on his shoulder while you would watch movies, but you'd never kiss.

there were moments when you were close to kissing; when the movie was over, and you'd lift your head up, your eyes almost drawn to his blue ones until they flickered to his lips, rafe's eyes doing the same until he'd turn his face away and clear his throat, or when you'd get whipped cream on your nose from the hot chocolate you'd order and rafe would lean in to wipe it away with a chuckle and a roll of his eyes.

usually rafe was much more talkative, but during your drive to a cliffside that looked over parts of the island, he seemed to be doing nothing but letting out hums of agreement and nodding at whatever you said, and even now, as you sat on the hood of his car, he was quiet.

"rafe?" you tilted your head, trying to seek eye contact, "is everything alright?" "hm?" rafe turned his head from the sky to you, nodding. "yeah, everything's alright."

"are you sure? you've been kind of quiet." "i've just been in my head. y'know, i've had a great time with you the past week."

"you know, that sounds eerily like the start of a cheesy 'it's not you, it's me', type of break-up monologue despite us not dating." you laughed softly, rafe letting out a chuckle of his own as you took a sip of the beer rafe had stashed in his backseat, "nah. but it is sort of a... goodbye speech." "a goodbye speech?"

"yeeeah. i'm gonna be going back to new york. just had some stuff to work out with my dad here." rafe cleared his throat, taking a chug of his own beer, "getting to spend time with you has definitely been the highlight of my trip."

"yeah, i mean, hanging out with you has also been alright, i guess." you shrugged, making the man roll his eyes, "so, tonight's your last night here, then?" "yeah. i'm heading out in the morning."

you smiled, your warm hand going to rafe's chin, turning his head so he was facing you, eyebrows raised in curiosity, "then i think we should make it count."

before rafe could utter another word, or before he could try to turn his head away from you, you'd brought your lips to his, kissing him slowly, savoring the time you had left, rafe's hand on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him.

you ended up in the backseat of rafe's bmw, your body under his, your panties in the pocket of his discarded jeans, your legs wrapped around his body.

"fuck, rafe..." you moaned, as he thrust into you, his lips on your neck, your back arching off the leather underneath you, his warm hands exploring you're body.

"you're so beautiful..." he whispered breathily, snapping his hips forward in a way that made you dig your fingernails into his skin; every single thrust of his hips felt like a love poem just for you, and rafe seemed to interpret each roll of your hips as a response to them, your bodies chasing ecstasy.

until eventually, once you'd both come down from your respective highs, and you rested your head on rafe's chest, listening to his heartbeat, tracing the muscles on his abdomen.

afterwards, rafe drove you to your house in comfortable silence, your hands together, your fingers intertwined. you let out a sigh when he parked in front of your house, bringing his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"are you sure you don't wanna come in? you could sleep over and leave from there?" "i wish." rafe chuckled, brushing a strand of loose hair behind your ear, "but i shouldn't. dunno if i could get out of bed if i get to sleep next to you."

"there you go again, being cheesy." you laugh, "i should've demanded five bucks from you every time you say something cheesy that would make a romcom lead swoon over you. you're lucky i'm more of a final girl, or else you'd be in trouble."

rafe grinned, "lucky me."

"this was a great week. you should let me know if you're ever in town again. i might carve a few minutes of my time out of my schedule for you." "i will."

you pressed a small kiss on rafe's cheek, taking your hand from his, "until next time." "until next time."

rafe watched as you got out of his car, skipping up the steps leading to your door, turning his way one more time and waving your hand at him, the man repeating the gesture, but once you disappeared behind the door and it closed behind you, he let out an exasperated sigh, watching as lights turned on in your window behind sheer curtains.

"what are you saying? he just left?" rita asked next day at work, her hands on her hips, "after you spent the whole week together?" "yes." you shrugged, wiping down the counter. "he texted me a few hours ago telling me he was on the road."

"oh, sweetheart. i'm sorry. i know you really liked him." the older woman said, the tone of her voice screaming pity. "and he really seemed to like you."

"it's not that deep." you rolled your eyes, "we just knew each other for a week. nothing special. he was a nice dude, but he lives hours away. it's cool."

"mmhm." rita nodded, her eyes narrowed.

you'd been on the closing shift, and by the time you'd locked up the diner, it was raining and the sky was pitch-black, and as you ran to the bus stop, you couldn't help but reminisce about the day you'd met, the way you both had burst into laughter once you got to his car, realizing that neither of you had been spared from getting wet no matter how hard you'd tried; now you stood under the glass-roof of the bus stop, bursting into laughter all by yourself.

once you got home, you changed out of your wet clothes into a large, warm sweatshirt, drying yourself with a towel, resting it over your shoulder when you spotted the black jacket on the back of your sofa. you smiled, lifting it to your nose and inhaling, a small smile taking over your lips as you recognized the smell of his cologne.

"you gotta try this!" you lifted up your ice cream cone towards rafe, who in turn held his out for you, "only if you try mine." he'd grinned, the two of you swapping ice creams. you took a small bite of his, humming before you switched back, "i definitely prefer mine." "yeah, i think i prefer yours too." rafe grinned.

but once you'd finished eating the ice creams, a cold shiver ran down your spine, goosebumps appearing on your skin, "are you seriously cold?" rafe laughed, "i told you that it was a terrible idea to get ice cream this late into the year."

"but ice cream's good for you, no matter the season."

"i think you just made that up." rafe laughed softly, pulling his suit jacket off, wrapping it over your shoulders, "you know, if i was a romcom protagonist, i'd tell you that you don't have to give your jacket to me, but you'd insist, but i'm too comfortable in this to do that." you grinned up at him.

you were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell ringing, your brows knitting together in confusion as you looked to the clock; it was already a little over ten. placing down the jacket, you made your way to the door, pulling it open.

rafe stood at your door, pushing back his wet hair, a distressed look on his face.

"rafe?" you furrowed your brows, "what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be in new york?"

"i was halfway there." he spoke over the pouring rain, "but then i thought of you and what a great week i had with you, and how much i hate that it had to end so soon and i just fuckin'... i don't know, i just turned around."

"that is a totally cheesy romcom move." you raised your brows, "i know." rafe grinned, "but i have a theory." "oh yeah? and what's your theory?" "you secretly love when i say something cheesy. you just like pretending that you don't."

"you know you need to have evidence for your theory to stick?"

"then let me prove it to you." rafe mumbled, before pulling you to him by your waist, pressing his lips on yours.

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so when he finally has you, sprawled out on his bed begging for his cock? he's not stopping til the gorgeous lady under him cries and begs (consensually, of course).

so, theoretically, you could be fucked out, cock drunk, still coming down off what feels like your millionth orgasm and rafe could be getting hard at the sight of you, spreading your legs for round 1,000,001