This Vibe Or Nothing.

My chest literally hurts every time I think about Maddie leaving Wally. Fuck this show has me down bad. I feel like a kid.

Thinking about the first time you call Steve daddy….

You don’t mean to say it so soon, it just slips out in the moment. 

Your thighs are burning from riding him, but your determination to keep going is driving Steve insane.

You’re huffing out the softest mewls, and whines into his shoulder, practically drooling against his skin while the tip of his cock punches your insides. Steves hands tight on your hips to keep you steady.

It’s when you lean back again, in your attempts to take back control, hands holding onto his shoulders for support to help lift yourself up and down.

But it’s hard, and every bounce has your body aching, and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes and you whimper out a small “Daddy”

You don’t realize you’ve said it until Steves small thrusts stutter and his grip on your hips somehow gets even tighter. 

“Daddy huh?” he says while lifting his hips up into you, taking over for you and your body almost immediately goes slack. 

“I-I, I didn’t mean-” you panic, trying to think of something to take back what you said but Steve doesn’t let you.

“Shhh baby, s’okay, daddys got you yeah?” he pulls you back down against him so you’re chest to chest as he picks up his pace. “Don’t worry baby, daddy will do all the work for you, just a tired little bunny huh?”

his tone is slightly mocking but you can’t help the way your cunt clenches around him. 

“Yeah of course you like that shit, you just sit pretty on daddys cock and he’ll make you feel so good”

And from that day on, Steve had you calling him daddy everyday until you couldn’t say anything at all. 

I need more Wally x Reader immediately

18+

wally clark that’s a little very obsessed with his girlfriend. wally clark that gives off pure golden retriever energy until someone looks at you a few seconds too long and suddenly he’s all over you, gripping your waist from behind and burying his face in your neck. wally clark that can’t keep his hands off you at the best of times, his hands finding their home on your hips in particular or the back pocket of your jeans.

wally clark that gazes down at you with a grin when you’re trapped between him and the mattress, that goddamn gold chain dangling in front of your face. “you look so fucking pretty under me, baby”. wally clark that’s like a completely different man behind the safety of a locked bedroom door, fingers leaving marks on your waist from his tight grip, mouth staining any part of you he can reach a dark purple. “what’re you gonna tell your friends when they ask what happened?” “gonna say it was you” “you’re fucking right you will, baby”

cop!rafe gives dumb!reader a warning (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

summary: officer cameron has had quite the uneventful night. he’s told to park on a quiet backroad to speed trap, but ends up making a stupid girl give him head instead of making her pay her ticket!

cw : smut, 18+, flirting, teasing, breast play, blowjob, reader is stupid and flirty, she’s a bad driver, lots of ‘like’

a/n : cop!rafe has a 70’s porn stache and that’s final! also i didn’t proof this very well sooooo sorry. also send me hc’s for cop!rafe and dumb!reader if you like them paired together!

officer cameron’s mouth opened wide as he yawned, rubbing his face with his hand. earlier that night he was called to bust a group of teenage delinquents that were t-p’ing their teachers’ home. ‘just go home, guys’ he told them, hands positioned at the top of his vest—and anticlimactically enough, they did, without much fuss.

his second dispatch of the night was at a run-down gas station just outside of town. the cashier, an older, frail-looking man had called 911 in hopes for the cops to detain the homeless man that was loitering out front. rafe explained to the clerk that he wasn’t able to arrest the homeless man because he wasn’t technically doing anything illegal.

“sir, in the state of north carolina its not illegal for him to sit outside a public building. unless you have a no loitering sign posted out front, which,” he glanced toward the two double, glass doors for a moment, “…it looks like you don’t have.” the older man gave him a glare and muttered, “ain’t no wonder why crime rates is goin’ up—they got pretty boys who don’ know nothin’ ‘bout anythin’…”

that was 2 hours ago.

rafe had been told to ‘speed trap’ on a dark, secluded backroad just north of town. he’s been sitting in his black suv for two hours doing absolutely nothing because no one comes down this road anymore. he was most-likely going to bust a couple of horny high-schoolers who parked on the side of the road to have sex—that’s probably about as entertaining as his night will get.

‘there’s jack shit goin’ on…’ he thought to himself before his tired eyes fluttered shut and the back of his head hit the seat. the soft singing voice on the radio was like a lullaby to his exhausted mind, as his breathing slowed and head began to droop to the side.

CLUNK!

the car jolted foward.

“what the fuck!—“ he shouted, his hand already gripping the handle of his door as he twisted around to look behind him. the red glow of his taillights illuminated the sleek, white bmw that had just plowed into the back of his suv. shoving the door open, he stepped out into the warm september air, his boots crunching against the gravel shoulder as he stomped toward the offending vehicle. he barely had time to process his frustration before he was knocking on the driver’s side window, his patience already worn thin.

“roll down your window.” his tone was sharp, authoritative—ready to chew out whatever dumbass had just rear-ended a cop car in the middle of an empty road. the window lowered with an soft-sounding hum, and rafe’s planned berate died on his tongue as he saw the woman behind the wheel.

big, glossy eyes blinked up at him, framed by your thick lashes. plush, overlined lips wobbled into a pout. long, perfectly curled hair cascaded over your bare shoulders, the strands catching the faint glow of his headlights like spun gold.

you were stunning.

you also looked like you were about to cry.

and the first words out of your mouth?

“omg, i think my car is broken?!” you squealed in a high, valley-girl like voice. rafe exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. it was clear to him that it was going to be a long night.

rafe stared at you, blinking slow like he needed a second to process what the hell he just heard. her car was broken? he resisted the urge to laugh. not because it was funny—because it was so damn stupid that it almost knocked the anger right out of him. almost.

his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he tipped his head toward the crumpled front of your clearly expensive bmw. the left headlight was completely busted, shards of glass littering the pavement, and the front bumper had a nice little dent where it had kissed his suv.

“yeah,” rafe deadpanned, arms crossing over his broad chest. “that tends to happen when you slam into a parked car.” your plump lips parted in an exaggerated gasp, manicured fingers flying to your chest like he’d just accused you of murder.

“i did not slam into you mister,” you insisted, shaking your head, curls bouncing with the motion. “like—ugh! i barely tapped you. my car is literally so sensitive.” you flailed her hands toward the bmw, like it was some fragile piece of art instead of a luxury car you clearly couldn’t drive. “i barely even touched the gas, i swear.”

rafe’s patience was hanging on by a thread.

“you were going fast enough to knock my car forward,” he muttered, glancing back at his own vehicle, which had very much been affected by your little “tap.”

you didn’t acknowledge that. instead, you let out a dramatic sigh, you gaze flickering to him like you’d just now noticed he was wearing a police uniform.

“wait—are you, like, a cop-cop?” you voice was drenched in the kind of obliviousness that only came from never having to deal with consequences. you batted your thick lashes, glossy pink lips curving into something dangerously close to a smile. “oh my god, that’s so funny, i thought you were just, like… a guy in a police car.”

rafe shut his eyes for a second. breathed. counted to three.

it didn’t help.

“license and registration,” he gritted out, reaching for the notepad in his belt.

your face fell.

“wait, no.” you reached out, lightly slapping his forearm with both hands like you were scolding him. “you don’t have to do all that. i mean, look at me!” you gestured to yourself, blinking up at him with glassy, bambi-like eyes. “do i look like a criminal?”

rafe arched a brow. “you look like someone who just crashed into a cop car.” you huffed, crossing your arms in a pout, your cleavage very much on display in the low-cut, hot pink crop top you were barely wearing.

“this is actually, like, so sexist of you,” you announced, twisting a loose strand of your hair around your finger. “you’re totally, like… abusing your power or whatever. just because i’m, like, a girl, and i might’ve, like, barely hit you, you wanna give me a ticket?”

rafe had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“license. and. registration,” he repeated, his voice low, firm.

you groaned, throwing your head back dramatically before shifting in your seat, digging through the mess of designer handbags, receipts, and random makeup products littering your passenger seat.

“ughhh, fiiiine. but, like, can i just say—this is actually so embarrassing for me right now?” you tossed a loose curl over your shoulder, sending him a look. “you’re, like, totally ruining my night.”

rafe exhaled a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “same to you, honey.”

officer cameron waited, watching as you dug through the mess in your passenger seat, tossing aside random receipts, lip gloss tubes, and what looked like a small, sparkly dog sweater.

he was this close to losing it.

finally, with a triumphant little gasp, you pulled out a thick booklet and shoved it toward him, flashing a proud, dead serious look.

“is this it?” you asked, nearly pouting.

rafe stared at the object in your hands.

the car manual.

he dragged a slow hand down his face. fuckin’ hell.

“no.” his voice was flat. so, so flat.

your perfect brows furrowed, lips pushing into a pout as you flipped the manual open, like you were actually about to prove him wrong.

“are you sure?” you flipped another page, scanning it with intense focus. “because, like, it totally has stuff about the car in it. like, see?” you turned the booklet toward him, pointing at a diagram of an engine. “that’s my engine.”

rafe let out a slow, controlled exhale through his nose.

“that’s the manual. i need the registration.”

you blinked up at him. “okay, well, what does that look like?”

his patience snapped. “you don’t know what a registration looks like, but you had this ready to go?” he tapped the thick booklet still clutched in your manicured hands.

you huffed, rolling her eyes. “well, yeah. it was, like, in the glove thingy. and it’s literally about my car, so—why wouldn’t that be it?”

rafe tipped his head back, staring at the sky like it might grant him the strength to deal with this girl.

you were still flipping through the damn manual, nodding like you’d just cracked a code. “oh! maybe it’s this part. it says ‘registration’ right here—”

he glanced down.

you were pointing at a section about registering the fucking bluetooth.

rafe actually laughed this time—a sharp, disbelieving sound as he braced both hands on the edge of your window, leaning in a little too close, his eyes burning into yours.

“you’re kidding,” he muttered. “you have to be kidding.”

you looked up at him, wide-eyed, genuinely confused. “why would I be kidding? i literally don’t joke about stuff like this.”

of course you didn’t.

rafe’s jaw ticked as he straightened up, rolling his shoulders back. this was a waste of time. he should’ve just written you up and sent you on your way—but something about you? it was entertaining. infuriating. and maybe, just maybe… kind of fun.

“move over,” he ordered.

you blinked. “huh?”

rafe gestured toward the passenger seat. “move. i’ll find it myself.”

your lips parted in outrage. “you can’t just, like, get in my car!”

he smirked, slow and lazy, hands braced on his belt. “i can when the driver is too incompetent to find her own registration.”

you gasped, offended. “did you just call me incompetent?”

“yeah, sweetheart.” he opened the door. “now, move.”

rafe barely had the door open before you huffed dramatically and shimmied over to the passenger seat, arms crossed tight over your chest. the movement made your light gray sweatpants ride low on your hips, the little rhinestone “JUICY” across the back catching the glow of his headlights. your hot pink crop top clung to you like a second skin, dipping low enough to keep rafe’s eyes very distracted—not that he’d ever admit it.

you popped your gum, blowing a big, obnoxious bubble before snapping it back between your teeth with a loud crack.

rafe clenched his jaw.

this girl was going to kill him.

sliding into the driver’s seat, he scanned the absolute disaster zone that was your car. the smell of vanilla body spray and expensive leather filled his nose as he shifted through the chaotic mess of designer bags, old coffee cups, and random beauty products littering the center console.

“fuck,” he muttered, pushing aside a half-empty bottle of baccarat rouge 540 like it was a crime scene. “you live in here?”

you gasped like he’d just insulted your entire bloodline.

“excuse me?” you whipped around in your seat, long hair spilling over your shoulder. “this is, like, so rude. my car is literally clean.”

rafe held up a crumpled chick-fil-a bag he’d just unearthed from under a louis vuitton tote.

you waved a dismissive hand, chewing your gum even louder. “okay, well, i got that, like, yesterday.”

he arched a brow. “so?”

“so, that means it doesn’t count.”

rafe exhaled through his nose, deciding not to engage in that particular brand of insanity.

instead, he yanked open the glovebox and—finally—there it was. the damn registration. crinkled, barely legible, but it was there.

he snatched it up, flashing it in your face like a trophy. “this. this is your registration.”

you blinked, blowing another big, dramatic bubble before snapping it again.

“okay, well, like, how was i supposed to know that? it literally looks like all the other papers.”

rafe let out a slow, painfully controlled breath, gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles went white.

with a sharp exhale, he exited your vehicle and stalked back toward his suv, pulling the driver’s side door open with more force than necessary. sliding into his seat, he braced his elbows on the center console, rubbing a hand down his face before flipping open his ticket book. the dim glow from his dashboard illuminated the small slip of paper in his hand as he scribbled down your information. his pen scratched against the ticket book, each stroke slow and deliberate—not because he needed extra time, but because he knew you were waiting.

and you were impatient.

he could see you through the rearview mirror, still sitting pretty in your tiny pink crop top, tapping your long, manicured nails against the steering wheel. every few seconds, you’d huff, shifting in your seat, chewing your gum obnoxiously loud.

rafe smirked.

you were so fucking bratty.

finally, he tore the ticket from the book with a slow rip, taking his time as he slid out of his car and made his way back to your open car door.

you immediately perked up, your big doe eyes locking onto him as he leaned down, leaving his right hand on the top of your car.

“ugh, finally,” you groaned, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “i thought i was gonna like, die of boredom.”

rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “tragic,” he murmured, then held out the ticket. “here. make sure your daddy’s card doesn’t decline.”

you snatched it from his hand, rolling your eyes—but when you looked down at the amount, your jaw dropped.

“wait—WHAT?!” you screeched, shaking the paper in his face. “you’re, like, literally joking. there is no way you’re charging me this much!”

rafe just smirked, leaning in closer.

“speeding, reckless driving, and hitting a cop car?” his voice was low, smug. “sounds about right.”

you huffed, your nails scraping against the paper as you dramatically threw your head back. “ugh! this is sooo unfair!”

then, suddenly, you paused. your lips pursed, eyebrows furrowing—and rafe could see it happening. that little spark of mischief, the way you scanned his face, glossy pink lips slowly curling into a smug little smirk. you had an idea.

“you wouldn’t want my daddy to be mad at me, right?” you said sweetly, biting your lip, lashes fluttering up at him. “‘cause like, that’d be really bad of you.”

your fingers toyed with the hem of your crop top, pulling it down ever so slightly—just enough to make his gaze flicker, just enough to remind him how tight it was stretched across your perfect, perky tits.

rafe exhaled slowly through his nose, his jaw tightening. “you really think that’s gonna work?” he muttered, though his voice was noticeably rougher now. your smirk only widened. you leaned in, so close he could smell your sweet perfume and the bubblegum on your breath.

“can’t i, like…pay for this in a different way?” you murmured, your voice dripping with fake innocence, fingers trailing up the front of his uniform, playing with one of the buttons.

rafe’s gaze dropped to your lips—your glossy, plump, parted lips—and for a split second, he let himself imagine it. you, on your knees. looking up at him all needy and desperate, your bratty little attitude gone as you sucked his hard cock, choking as he forced you to deepthroat him.

“you’re out of your damn mind,” he muttered, eyes still maintained on your lips.

despite every reason to shut this down—your spoiled attitude, your blatant bribery, the fact that you’d just crashed into his damn car—he found himself rooted in place, his pulse thudding a little too hard, a little too fast.

your fingers were still playing with his uniform buttons, long nails scraping just lightly enough to send a chill down his spine. you knew exactly what you were doing.

your lips parted as if you were going to say something else—maybe another whiny complaint, maybe another suggestion for how you could make this ticket disappear—but before you could get the words out, he reached up, gripping your chin between his fingers.

the playful smirk vanished from your face. your lashes fluttered, lips parting slightly as you stared up at him, your usual bratty confidence flickering under the weight of his stare.

“sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, just barely grazing your bottom lip. “you crash into a cop car, you pay the fine,” rafe continued, voice low, gravelly, his blue eyes darkening as he tipped your chin up further. “that’s how it works.”

you swallowed, your throat bobbing under his grip. then, suddenly, you let out a soft giggle. you tilted your head, nipping at the tip of his thumb before flashing him a sly, knowing smile

“or,” you whispered, your voice breathy, tempting, “you could just let it slide…” your giggle was soft, sweet—too sweet.

rafe went still. for a split second, he just stared at you, his grip tightening around your chin as the words sank in. you were bratty. you were spoiled. just so damn obvious.

and yet, he could feel the heat creeping up his neck, the urge to call your bluff pressing down on him like a weight.

his jaw ticked, his eyes flickering to the empty road, the pitch-black stretch of kildare that nobody ever drove down this late. the only sound was the soft whistle of the crickets in the distance, the occasional whisper of wind through the trees.

nobody was around.

nobody would see.

his eyes snapped back to you.

before you could react, rafe’s hand dropped from your chin, and instead, he began undoing belt. “better get to fuckin’ work then, hun.” he muttered, voice heavy with lust.

you gasped, eyes widening at the sight. his thick, hard cock sprung out of his trousers, now eye-level with you.

rafe just stared down at you, his chest rising and falling. he gripped your jaw and brought it towards his red-tipped dick, pressing it onto your glossy lips.

rafe swore he’d seen the smallest smirk on your lips before your mouth parted, inviting him in. his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as your hand came up to hold him steady at his base, cock going deeper into your throat with every lick.

gaining confidence, your movements became more fluid, bobbing your head onto his length with ease—like you were a pro at this, giving cops head to avoid paying tickets.

“fuck.” rafe groaned, throwing his head back in bliss, guiding the back of your head with his left hand. his right hand came down to your tube top, forcing it down to reveal your tits. you giggled on his cock, using your free hand to make a show of squeezing and playing with your boobs for him to watch.

“you’re such a fuckin’ slut…. givin’ a cop head so you don’t have to pay for ticket…” he humorlessly chuckled, gripping your hair tighter as he thrusted into your mouth faster.

spit bubbles were falling from the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the white leather of the drivers seat. he leaned down, grabbing a handful of your tit, massaging it as he groaned.

you stared up at him with doe-like eyes, silently begging for his cum. he recieved the message, grabbing your face with both of his hands, fucking your mouth at a fast pace.

gulg gulg gulg

your mouth made the explicit noise as you impulsively moaned around his member, scratching at his wrists, almost at your limit.

“shit—gonna cum all over that pretty face—“ rafe moaned, pulling out of your throat, jerking himself off, other hand forcing your mouth open wide.

his hot cum spurted out in white ropes, landing on various places of your flushed face. his movements on his cock slowed, as he gained his sense of reality back.

he looked down at your cum-cover face—laughing when he saw the bimbo-like look in your eyes.

“well,” he started, putting himself back into his trousers, grabbing a couple of napkins from the inside of your door. he wiped his white semen off of your face, making you giggle. “i guess i could let you off with a warning, instead.” he smirked, giving your red face a light slap.

<3

psst.. i heard there was a sleepy girl out there that wanted her panties pulled to the side

This. No notes.

Do it

Blood splattered Rafe 😍

Hi can you do a Rafe smut where him and reader “hate” each other and they are at a party. While reader gets a drink a random dude starts harassing/annoying her and he does something that makes her punch him in the face. She runs away while the dude chases after her and she spots rafe. She hides behind him and he’s like “wtf” but then sees the guy coming behind you. Then you tell him what happened and rafe beats the shit out of the guy and takes you upstairs for some sexy time😫🙏🏻

God i love this one

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x You

Warnings: Smut (18+), rough sex, possessiveness, violence, jealousy, language, choking, spanking, unprotected sex, toxic dynamics.

You wanted to believe you hated Rafe Cameron. You really did. It was easier that way—easier to pretend like you didn’t feel his eyes on you every time you walked into a room, easier to act like you didn’t think about how good he looked with his sleeves rolled up and his jaw clenched. Easier to ignore the way your body reacted when he got close, the heat that burned beneath your skin when he muttered something cocky under his breath just to piss you off.

And you were sure he felt the same way. That was how it always had been between you two—pure hatred, always at each other's throats. You swore you could kill each other any second.

But tonight, everything changed.

The music was loud, the party buzzing with energy as Kooks filled the massive beach house. You were perched at the bar, sipping your drink, already regretting coming. The only reason you stayed was because you refused to let Rafe’s presence ruin your night. You weren’t about to leave just because he was here, brooding in the corner like he always did, looking too damn good for his own good.

Then, the creep showed up.

You hadn’t even noticed him at first, too busy nursing your drink and trying to drown out the annoyingly catchy music blasting through the speakers. But the second he sidled up next to you, his cologne too strong and his grin too cocky, you knew he was trouble.

“Didn’t take you for a girl who comes to parties alone,” he mused, eyes dragging over your body in a way that made your skin crawl.

“I didn’t,” you muttered, hoping he’d take the hint.

He didn’t. Instead, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping an octave like he thought it was seductive. “Bet you just haven’t found the right company yet.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not interested.”

But he didn’t back off. If anything, he got bolder, his hand brushing against your arm as he chuckled like you had just played hard to get. “Aw, don’t be like that, baby—”

Before he could finish, his hand landed on your ass, a firm slap that sent a wave of disgust rippling through you. Your entire body tensed, blood boiling as you turned and smacked him across the face without thinking.

The crack echoed over the music, and for a split second, everything went still.

Then, his expression darkened. His jaw clenched, and his eyes flashed with something dangerous.

“Bitch,” he spat, taking a step toward you.

Panic flared in your chest. You knew that look. He was pissed, and you had no intention of sticking around to see what he’d do next. Your heart pounded as you spun on your heel, pushing through the crowd.

But he followed.

You could hear him behind you, his footsteps heavy, his breathing ragged with fury. Your stomach twisted, your skin crawling as you shoved past drunken partygoers, desperate for an escape.

Then, you saw him.

Rafe.

He was standing near the stairs, a beer in his hand, mid-conversation with Kelce. The second your eyes landed on him, you didn’t think—you just moved.

Before you knew it, you were behind him, gripping the back of his shirt like your life depended on it.

“What the fuck—?” Rafe turned, his brows furrowing as he looked down at you in confusion. “What are you—”

But then, his gaze lifted, and he saw him. The guy.

And Rafe immediately understood.

His whole demeanor shifted. His grip tightened around the beer bottle, his entire body going rigid. “He bothering you?” His voice was low, dangerous.

You swallowed hard, nodding. “He—he touched me.”

That was all it took.

Rafe saw red.

He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t ask for details. He just acted.

The bottle dropped from his hand, shattering on the floor as he launched himself at the guy. It happened so fast that you barely had time to react. One second, Rafe was standing in front of you. The next, he was on him, fist colliding with his jaw so hard that you swore you felt it.

People gasped, parting like the Red Sea as Rafe unleashed hell. His knuckles cracked against the guy’s face over and over, blood smearing across his skin.

No one tried to stop him. They knew better.

By the time Rafe was done, the guy was out cold on the floor.

His chest heaved as he straightened, fists clenched, rage still burning in his blue eyes as he turned back to you. “You okay?”

You were staring.

You couldn’t help it.

He looked—fuck.

Blood speckled his sharp jaw, his hair disheveled from the fight. His hands were bruised, knuckles split, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

And you wanted him.

Bad.

You didn’t even think. You just grabbed his wrist, tugging him through the party without a word.

“Where the fuck are we going?” he grumbled, confused.

You ignored him, pushing open the first empty door you found, pulling him inside, and slamming it shut behind you.

The second the door slammed shut, you barely had time to process what was happening before Rafe was on you. His hands were everywhere—gripping, grabbing, pulling—like he needed to touch every inch of you at once. His mouth was hot and demanding against yours, tongue sliding between your lips in a kiss that was all teeth and hunger. You gasped when his hands found your thighs, gripping them rough enough to bruise as he hoisted you up.

Your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, and your back slammed against the door, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“You like that, huh?” Rafe growled against your mouth, his teeth dragging over your bottom lip before biting down, just enough to sting. “Watching me fuck that guy up got you all wet?”

Your only answer was a moan as he rolled his hips into yours, pressing his hard cock right against your aching core. You were still wearing your dress, but it did nothing to dull the sensation of how thick he felt against you, how ready he was to wreck you.

“Fuck, I knew you were dirty,” he muttered, his hands sliding up your thighs, shoving your dress higher. “Knew you needed someone to put you in your fucking place.”

Before you could snap back, his fingers found your panties, pushing them aside. His thumb swiped through your wetness, and he let out a deep groan when he felt how soaked you were.

“Jesus. You’re dripping, baby,” he mocked, voice dark with amusement. “Bet you’d let me fuck you right here against this door, huh? Let everyone at this party hear how desperate you are.”

The thought sent a rush of heat through your body. You wanted to tell him to shut up, to slap that cocky smirk off his face, but when his fingers pushed inside you—two at once, stretching you—the only sound you made was a pathetic whimper.

“Fuck,” you gasped, head hitting the door.

Rafe pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had your thighs shaking around his waist. He was teasing you, taking his time, knowing damn well how much you needed him.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” he taunted, his teeth grazing your jaw as he kissed down your neck. “Look at you—so fucking needy.”

You whined, bucking your hips against his hand, but he pulled his fingers away. Your whimper of protest was swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you hard, reaching down to undo his belt.

Then, he flipped you around.

Your hands caught against the door to keep yourself upright, but Rafe didn’t give you a second to process before he was yanking your dress up and dragging your soaked panties down your thighs.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” he growled, his hands gripping your ass, spreading you open. “Make sure you never look at another guy again.”

You barely had time to breathe before he was shoving his cock inside you, hard and deep, stretching you to the point of pain. You let out a strangled moan, your fingers digging into the door as he bottomed out in one rough thrust.

“Fuck—”

Rafe groaned, his forehead dropping against your shoulder for a second as he gritted his teeth. “So fucking tight.”

He didn’t start slow. He didn’t give you time to adjust. He just started moving, fucking into you with deep, bruising thrusts that had you crying out.

His grip was rough, fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you back onto his cock, forcing you to take every inch. You could hear the wet, filthy sounds of him slamming into you, feel the way your walls clenched around him, your body struggling to keep up with how hard he was fucking you.

“This what you needed?” he gritted out, one hand wrapping around your throat from behind, squeezing just enough to make your vision blur at the edges. “Needed me to fuck you like a slut?”

You moaned in response, too far gone to be embarrassed about how wrecked you already sounded.

“Say it,” he demanded, tightening his grip.

You gasped, your head spinning. “Y-Yes.”

“Yes, what?” He slowed his thrusts, just enough to drive you crazy, just enough to make you squirm.

“Yes, I needed it,” you admitted, voice barely a whisper.

He groaned, his free hand coming down on your ass with a sharp slap that made you jolt. “That’s right,” he muttered, snapping his hips forward again. “Bet you’ve been waiting for this. Fucking brat.”

You felt yourself getting close embarrassingly fast. The way he fucked you—deep and rough, owning every inch of you—had your entire body burning with pleasure. His grip was relentless, fingers pressing into your skin like he wanted to leave marks, like he wanted you to remember this every time you moved.

“You gonna come already?” Rafe taunted, noticing how tight you were squeezing him. “Jesus, you’re fucking obsessed with me.”

“Shut up,” you panted, nails scratching against the door.

He chuckled darkly, hand wrapping in your hair, yanking your head back so his lips were right against your ear. “Make me.”

And then he fucked you even harder.

Your orgasm slammed into you so fast and so intense that your knees buckled, but Rafe didn’t let up. He kept fucking you through it, kept fucking you past it, his pace ruthless as he chased his own release.

Your overstimulated whimpers only spurred him on. His thrusts got rougher, more desperate, his groans turning into curses. “Fuck—”

Then, with one final thrust, he buried himself as deep as he could go, his entire body going tense as he came inside you, filling you up with a low, guttural groan.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Your body was limp against the door, your breathing ragged, and Rafe was still pressed against you, his forehead against your shoulder, both of you spent.

Finally, he let out a breath, his grip loosening. “Jesus Christ.”

You swallowed hard, still trembling. You felt him pull out, his hands gently dragging your dress back down, as if he hadn’t just fucked you senseless against a door at a party.

When you finally turned to face him, his blue eyes were dark, filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

Then, that cocky smirk returned.

“Still think you hate me?”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ answer the call

pairing: bsf!reader x rafe synopsis: rafe fucks his best friend while she's on the phone with her boyfriend. warnings: smut, piv, MDNI!! wc: 1k a/n; originally posted 11/14/2024

rafe had you on all fours on your canopy bed, holding onto one of the posts for dear life as he pounded into you, the bed swaying every time he thrust his cock into you, one of his hands gripping onto your hair while the other rested on your ass, occasionally giving it a sharp smack, causing you to let out a noise that was between a gasp and a yelp.

"aww, look at you." rafe cooed mockingly with a tug at your hair, the blonde panting behind you "so fucking desperate for me to fuck you. bet your little loser boyfriend can't fuck you like you need to be fucked, hm?"

you hated the words that were leaving his lips, but you couldn't deny that he was right; your boyfriend definitely couldn't satisfy you the way rafe always seemed to be able to do, he couldn't hit that spongy spot that caused you to curl your toes, or rub your clit in the way that caused your back to arch off the bed. not like rafe did.

"say it," rafe commanded, "say that he can't-"

rafe let out an annoyed growl when he was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing on the nightstand. his initial plan was to tell you to ignore it, but when he saw who it was, he got a whole new idea, a grin taking over your lips.

"answer it."

"w-what?" you looked back at rafe with furrowed brows, thinking that he must be joking, but as he continued to pound into you, there was no sign of hesitation on his face, only a wide, cruel grin.

you reached for your phone from the nightstand, rafe slowing his pace as you looked at the caller id with widened eyes, almost waiting for it to change into something else, but clear as day, there was your boyfriend's name, along with the contact photo you set for him, a picture of you two taken at a carnival.

"do it before i do it for you." rafe mumbled as he bent to press a small kiss to the back of your neck, grabbing your ass roughly. and hesitantly, you pressed the green button visible on the screen as rafe pulled out of you.

"h-hi, babe." you said, trying your best to steady your breathing as rafe teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, the hand that was in your hair just moments ago going down to rub your clit.

"hey, everything good?" the voice on the other line asked, and you had to hold back a moan by biting down on your lip as rafe's middle finger brought some of your arousal to your clit, starting to slowly rub the puffy bud.

"yeah, everything's good." you chuckled, "i was just working out."

when you said that, you felt rafe's tip slowly starting to enter you, stretching your walls as you tried not to let out any noise, your boyfriend going on a tirade about something that you honestly couldn't give two shits about at that moment.

rafe continued moving in and out of you, at first at a slow pace, slowly building it up; all the while your boyfriend was talking, and you occasionally let out noncommittal hums and 'mmhm's, but the harder rafe was fucking you, the harder it was to concentrate on anything other than him, and trying to keep quiet felt like rocket science at that point, and you were starting to taste blood in your mouth from how hard you were biting down on your lip.

"i-i gotta go." you said into the phone, nearly panting, "i'll see you later." you said, hanging up before he could even get a word in, feeling the band in your stomach getting closer and closer to snapping, letting out a moan you'd held in for too long the moment that you were off the call as rafe started pounding into you relentlessly.

"say it." rafe commanded behind you, your eyes squeezed shut, your mind hazy with pleasure, confused as to what he was talking about. "say that your boyfriend can't fuck you the way i fuck you."

you were a panting mess as he continued hitting the spot inside of you that only he seemed able to reach; a part of you didn't want to say it, didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but the moment the palm of his hand landed on your ass, you yelped, the pleasure almost overwhelming.

"h-he-"

"nuh-uh. your boyfriend."

you let out a small whine when he corrected you, trying to steady your erratic breathing as he continued thrusting in and out of you.

"m-my boyfriend... can't fuck me the way you do..."

"atta girl." rafe chuckled behind you, and the way his fingers continued circling your clit while he pounded into you from behind was getting almost overwhelming, and rafe could tell that you were getting closer by the way you were starting to clench around him, the blonde letting out a groan, "gonna come in this pretty pussy..." he mumbled, "she's practically begging me to... wants me to show her who she belongs to..."

a part of you wanted to protest, but you were so close that your mind was clouded by all the bliss he was making you feel, the world around you getting so hazy that you couldn't bring yourself to care as long as you got to come.

and as soon as you felt the band in your stomach snap, rafe's cock buried deep inside of you, he couldn't help the almost animalistic groan that left his lips, warm pumps of cum filling you up

Loveeee

Boyfriend Simon Elroy (NSFW)

prompt fill. (request)

Simon Elroy x fem!reader

___________________________🌰

Simon is exactly the type of romantic who takes your favorite color or favorite movie or favorite holiday very fucking seriously. Everything you tell him, he commits to memory. Tattoos it on his brain so he'll never forget. You only eat the green M&Ms? He'll pick them out of every bag and hand them to you like treasures. You hate it when the sauce touches your spaghetti before you can mix it yourself? He'll replate everything over and over again until you smile. And he does it all like it's no big deal, nothing to see here; mid-conversation, making a joke, totally whatever.

Simon is exactly the type to be sarcastic, wields his dark sense of humor like a test—none shall pass—but knows when to brighten himself up if you need a boost. He'll defend your honor against anyone, disguising sharp remarks behind a smile as he cuts down the passive-aggressive idiots who try to make you rethink your values. He's soft words in harsh tones; observations collected over hours spent together; always studying you, always learning, always finding new ways to make you feel like the sun.

Simon is exactly the type to keep a hand in your back pocket and kiss your neck after he walks you to class. Yeah, he knows you're independent, but he doesn't give a shit, gimme your bag, babe, or suffer the consequences. He isn't into soft affection for the sake of it, but he'll find reasons to touch you. Funny enough, despite that quirk, he does like to roughhouse at the drop of a hat. Grab you around the waist and bodily move you where he wants you. Throw you over his shoulder when you suffer decision fatigue and have been standing in front of the squishmallows for twenty minutes.

Simon is exactly the type to make the little moments significant. Celebrates every achievement like it's the cure for cancer. He'll put together backyard picnics under the stars because he can't afford a restaurant. He'll set up a blanket fort around his bed to watch scary movies in the dark after you admit you've never seen The Ring. Even secretly calls your phone right as the end credits start to roll and cackles when you jump a foot in the air. Bundles you up and rocks you, kisses you until you say you forgive him.

But Simon is also the type to get obsessed. He isn't controlling, just wants to make sure his girl is okay, taken care of, happy at all times. Because if she isn't, there will be hell to pay and Simon will gleefully be the one to unleash it. He would go to the ends of the earth for you, no questions asked. You want sushi from that place in Milwaukee—an hour and a half away, and closed on Sundays—Simon WILL make that happen. He's the first one there and the last to leave, helps clean up the basement after everyone exits Game Night. Doesn't expect anything in return. You know that if you get hurt, he'll nurse you back to health, a bit of a helicopter mom, and that he'll also fucking murder whoever's responsible. (You've never seen the school patch a crack in the pavement so fast...)

Simon is also the type who doesn't get jealous. He isn't territorial. He doesn't worry about you if another guy decides to make his move; watches in amusement because he knows dickhead Dom Sawyer can't do what Simon does for you. He simply raises a brow at the guys who try to pretend Simon doesn't exist. It's only if and when you get uncomfortable that Simon intervenes, "You okay, beautiful?" and extricates you from the situation, a protective arm around your waist.

Simon is exactly the type who makes promises he doesn't break. If he swore to make you scream his name, that's exactly what you'll be doing, no matter how long it takes. "Come on, beautiful, I know you can be louder than that..." He's methodical, thorough, has done the research and gathered the evidence, your honor, this is what word to spell with his tongue to make you squirt. And Simon loves to make you come as many times as you can take, groaning as he tastes you, his lips and chin dribbling, his eyes rolled back in his head as he tries to get his tongue deeper. He listens to you, knows your limits, won't cross them even when his curiosity is begging him to. Giving you pleasure gives him pleasure, and sometimes he won't even have to fuck you to get off. He doesn't get embarrassed, is sure of himself, just gives you a wolfish smirk and starts all over again. Makes you taste yourself on his tongue before he decides to use his fingers this time. "You want to come again, love? Say it. Tell me what you want."

Simon is definitely the type to fuck slow when he does have you beneath him. He's traditional in some aspects. Prefers missionary to anything else because he needs to see your eyes, to gaze deeply into them as he rocks into you, angled perfectly to tease you. "You feel amazing, beautiful girl," he murmurs as he kisses your neck and pinches your nipple. "You're so perfect, fuck, I'm so lucky." And then, finally, he'll position himself just right to hit your g-spot, ram into it until you and he come together.

Simon isn't vanilla. He'll secret you away to a bathroom at the arcade or have you ride him behind the Peddie's barn when there's a tailgate. He just knows what he likes and that's all there is to it. But if there's something you want to try, he's more than willing, "Anything for you, love."

Simon is exactly the type who knows how to laugh during sex. He's silly and doesn't take himself too seriously. Honestly, he just loves the way you sound when you giggle, he doesn't care what's happening when you do. Simon doesn't get drowsy after, either. He gets hype; wants to play; loves to tickle you into submission and then snuggle the shit out of you as he talks to you about plans he's made for you and him to travel to New York Comic Con. He tucks your hair behind your ear, blushes at his own gesture—like he can't quite believe he's allowed to be that intimate—and then smothers you in kisses so you won't notice how red his cheeks are.

🌰___________________________

also on AO3!

thinking about… rafe putting a remote control vibrator in your pussy then forcing you to go shopping with him.

CW: 18+ only! use of a vibe in public, rafe is cocky, strong language, some making out in a dressing room.

note: i wrote this at 11:40pm, so don’t judge if it sucks just randomly thought of this lil concept and yeah, this came to be!

daydreams

“c’mon baby, it’ll be fun…”

those were the words rafe used to convince you to let him shove a small silicone vibrator up your pussy before the two of you went out to shop for the day.

at first you’d thought, ‘sure why not, it couldn’t be too bad.’

but now you’re eating your words as you try and keep your composure in front of the saleswoman who’s going through an abundance of dresses with you.

“i think this one matches your skin complexion, the color would just pop against your skin! it’s also got this sexy little slit the runs up mid-thigh—”

her words are cut short when you gasp loudly, squeezing your thighs together as you grip the dress rack.

the woman gives you a concerned look, asking if you’re okay. you nod your head before you slowly drag your gaze up from the floor, finding rafe sitting on a small couch pushed against a wall, his tongue pressed firmly against his cheek as he smirks back at you, clearly amused by the entire situation.

“i— oh, god.. i agree with you c-completely.” you stutter out, legs wobbling as another orgasm washes through you. your skin is on fire, a flush creeping up your chest and to your face. “i’ll go try this one on, thank you!”

you quickly grab the dress, stumbling toward the dressing room and leaving the poor saleswoman to stand confused by the rack of dresses.

once inside the safety of the dressing room, you drop onto the bench, pulling your skirt up to the tops of your thighs, sliding your thong to the side and going to remove the damned toy rafe put there.

you’re just about to pull it out when the vibration frequency is upped, a knock on your dressing room door making you jump. you know it’s rafe, the fucker probably wants to come in and tease you, probably tell you you’re not allowed to remove the toy, well fuck him.

you stand off the bench, letting your skirt fall back down before unlocking the door and swinging it open, finding a very amused rafe standing on the other side. he pushes you back into the room, stepping into the small space, shutting and locking the door before his tall frame towers you, backing you up against the mirror.

“and just what do you think you’re doing, huh?” he asks, his voice low and demanding, sending a shiver down your spine.

you shove at his chest, “i’m taking this stupid thing out. i’ve not been able to concentrate in one fucking store, rafe. not one! you’re.. god you’re so infuriating sometimes.”

rafe laughs, the sound deep and rich, sending butterflies erupting in your stomach. he reaches into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone and stopping the vibrator. you sigh in relief at the loss of stimulation.

he grips the back of your neck, turning your head up so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. his head dips down, nose brushing against yours as he kisses the corners of your lips.

“you’re not taking it out, sweetheart. you’re gonna be a good girl, and keep that shit in the entire time we’re out,” he pauses, turning your head to the side so your neck is exposed to him. he leaves gentle, wet kisses along the side of your neck, his teeth nipping the front of your throat before he pulls back. “if you’re good, you’ll be rewarded for it when we get home, i promise.”

you’re panting, desperate to get this toy out of you but also desperate to be good for rafe, to be rewarded for listening and doing as you’re told. your lips part, a small squeal escaping you when rafe tightens his hold on the back of your neck, craning your head back and pressing his lips firmly against yours. his kiss is hard and possessive, hot and needy.

his tongue slips past the seam of your lips, tangling with yours as he presses the front of his body firmly against yours. you grip his hips, pressing him harder into you and moaning against his lips when you feel the outline of his hard cock pressing against your stomach. rafe deepens the kiss, one hand still firmly gripping the nape of your neck while the other makes purchase on your hip, squeezing tightly as he rubs himself against you.

small whimpers and whines escape you, rafe swallowing every single one of them as he continues to claim your mouth— licking, sucking, biting, claiming you.

he finally breaks away from you, breathing as heavily as you while his forehead rests against yours. his blue eyes search your face, a small smile tilting the corners of his lips before he leans in to press one more soft and gentle kiss to your lips.

finally releasing you, he steps back, adjusts himself then looks at the dress you have hanging on the hook in the dressing room. “i love that one, lets go pay for it and move on to the next store, i’m ready to get you home now.”

tagging some mooties: @quinnsbabygirl @yourlocalangeldoll @nemesyaaa @rafesheaven @rafesthroatbaby @maybejj @memoirofasparklemuff1n @rafesbabygirlx @rafescvntyclubgf @hauntedfawnn @dementedkittenribbon