Deadly Class 1x06 “Stigmata Martyr“

"Baby's Day Out" - Rafe Cameron x Trophy Wife!Reader

a/n: @howyouloveyourdragon and @aemonddtargaryen keep encouraging my rafe obsession so dedicating this to them, ya nasties 🩷

Summary: Rafe loves it when you get pretty for him. He just doesn't love that it involves you being away from him.

Word Count: 2,560

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, breeding kink, baby trapping, mirror sex, soft dark!rafe, possessive/toxic rafe, jealousy, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex, creampie, unprotected sex

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

Rafe Cameron knows he isn’t the best at making decisions. No, he wouldn’t admit that to anyone on the planet, but deep down, he knows it. The best decision he’s ever made, however, one that he knows he’ll never regret, is marrying you. His adoring little wife. High school sweethearts, he made sure to lock you down the moment your father gave him permission to propose. The two of you were practically Outer Banks royalty, the king and queen of Figure Eight.

He adores you. He loves showering you with affection and gifts, spending on you lavishly without a care in the world. And you? You return that affection to him tenfold, something he’s never experienced in all his life. No one has ever loved him the way you do, made him feel wanted or needed the way you do. His pretty baby girl, his darling wife. The only thing that irks him?

The fact that you have a life outside of him.

Rafe is possessive. He knows he can take it too far. And he often does. He hates whenever another man so much as looks at you, hates when you show anyone attention or affection other than him. He tries so goddamn hard to be good for you and not let it show, but his blood boils at the thought of someone stealing you away. Today is no exception. He’s just gotten back from playing a round with Topper at the Island Club, only to see you getting ready to leave the house, looking like a fucking five course meal in those tight little pink yoga pants that hug your ass, your thighs. And that matching sports bra that your gorgeous tits are almost spilling out of. You have your Chanel sunglasses on your head as you apply that Dior lip oil that always has your plush lips looking so kissable, rushing over to him when you hear the door shut.

“Rafey!” You coo, embracing him and then moving to pour him a glass of lemonade, “Have a good game?”

He nods, grinning at you, “It was great, baby, just wish I had my favorite little cheerleader there.”

You giggle, leaning against his palm when he strokes your cheek, “You know me. I don’t like being perceived before ten in the morning. And I hate outdoor sports,” you wrinkle your nose in that way he finds absolutely adorable, “You have to get all sweaty and hot and disgusting.”

“I could get sweaty and hot and disgusting for you,” Rafe smirks, his hands moving to grab at your hips, pulling you flush up against him, only for his jaw to drop when you squirm out of his grip and tell him that you can’t right now, “Wha- What do you mean? Where are you going, baby?”

“I have my pilates class and then I’m going shopping and to the spa with Wheezie,” you chirp, hanging your purse on your shoulder, quickly applying another coat of lip oil, “Remember, I told you about this yesterday?”

He knits his brows together, knowing you probably told him and that he was too busy either fucking you or thinking about fucking you to pay attention. He lets out an annoyed little huff, grumbling to himself, asking if you really have to go.

“I wanted to spend time with my wife. Wanted to have a little fun with you,” Rafe moves to grab at your ass, squeezing your soft flesh in his hands, making you shake your head, pecking his cheek.

“You’re always in the mood. Love ya, bye.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Rafe shakes his head, pulling you back toward him, his lips grazing against your shoulder blade, “You smell nice.”

You giggle at the feeling of his hands tracing your upper arms, holding you so tight, “I know. It’s Chanel. You bought it.”

Rafe bites down on your shoulder, grinding his cock against your ass, groaning at the feeling of your body against his, “Worth every penny. You smell fucking delicious. Don’t want anyone smelling you like this, baby.”

You roll your eyes, turning to face him, arms wrapping around his neck as you smile, “Rafey, don’t be all jealous. I’m gonna get waxed and my nails and hair done, get a massage and all exfoliated for you,” you coo, batting your lashes at him, “Don’t you want me to look good for you, Daddy?”

“So you’re getting everything done,” Rafe questions, raising a brow, leaning in to whisper, “Including the…”

“Brazilian? Of course.”

Your words go straight to his cock, mind running wild with visions of you and him after your little spa day. Rafe lets out a quiet groan before nodding, allowing you to squirm out of his arms, fixing your clothes.

““Fuck, fuck, okay. You… Fuck. Text me when you get there,” Rafe demands, watching you walk out toward the pink Mercedes he bought you for an anniversary present, “And send me pictures of your nails! You know I like seeing them!”

“Yes, Daddy,” you giggle, blowing him a kiss as you drive off, only to squeal with delight when you see the bouquet of pink roses on your passenger seat, “Rafey!”

He chuckles, waving you off, watching as you speed toward the Island Club, already missing you something terrible.

Rafe knows it’s ridiculous, but he checks your location on Snapchat every two goddamn seconds. He can’t lose you. You’re the only good thing in his life and he’s going to keep you with him no matter what. He’s not the only one who sees your value. He knows that. He’s the one who put a ring on your finger, but that doesn’t stop assholes like JJ or John B giving you an appreciative once-over whenever they see you. He fucking hates it. He sees that you’ve posted a selfie on your instagram at your pilates class, looking like a fucking model. And, of course, JJ, Pope, and John B have all commented on it.

It takes every inch of self restraint in Rafe not to throw his phone across the room. He inhales sharply through his nose, pacing across the room. Why would you post a selfie before texting him? Shouldn’t he be more important than posting a thirst trap on your fucking instagram? That’s when his phone goes off and he sees he has a new message on Snapchat from you. His jaw drops slightly when he opens the image, seeing you posing in the mirror of the Island Club’s shower room, your tiny little towel barely covering anything, blowing him a kiss.

“Showering then heading to the mall. Love you xoxo”

He quickly screenshots the image, adding it to his steadily growing album of sexy little pictures you’ve sent him, palming at his cock, wishing that you were here to take care of his raging hard-on instead. He’s going to fuck you so good tonight that you’re going to be screaming his name. Everything’s going to be different tonight. He’s decided that there’s only one way to prove to the assholes who lust after you that you’re his and only his.

He wants them to see you with a cute little baby bump. He wants them to see that he’s the only one you’re ever going to fuck, the only one who you’re ever going to love. Rafe knows you wanted to wait a couple of years, but surely you won’t care? He’s always complaining and making you feel guilty about how uncomfortably tight the latex condoms you use feel on his cock, so he’s sure with a little coaxing, you’ll let him fuck you raw. You don’t have an IUD and you aren’t on birth control, so all he needs to do is “forget” to pull out.

It’s the perfect plan.

You send him a text an hour or so later with a picture of your shopping bags, his lips twisting into a smirk at the one from Agent Provacateur. Oh, you’re definitely getting bred tonight, he can already imagine you bent over on the bed, his hands in your hair as he fucks you mercilessly, your new lingerie lying on the floor.

And then? A picture of your nails. The text along with it?

“They match your tip xoxo”

Fuck, how the hell is he supposed to wait this long? He needs you right now.

Your biweekly day out with Wheezie is both his favorite and least favorite day of the month. By the time you get home, still chattering away to her on your phone, shopping bags on your arm, looking like a million bucks, Rafe can barely resist running after you and humping your leg like a bitch in heat. He wraps his arms around you from behind, kissing the nape of your neck, snatching your phone from you and tossing it aside, ignoring your protests that you were still talking to Wheezie.

“I said to get off the phone,” Rafe says firmly, turning you around to face him, gripping your jaw in his hands.

You bite your lip, gazing up at him. He knows you love it when he gets like this. All dominant, reminding you who your daddy is. He watches as you shift slightly, pressing your thighs together as you nod.

“‘M sorry, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he replies with a smirk, “Now show me what you bought, baby.”

You immediately begin showing him all of your shopping excitedly - items from the Chanel spring collection, a few Dior pieces, some macarons from Laduree, and then? Finally? The item he’s been waiting for. Rafe eyes the pink set with no small amount of greed, his mouth watering.

“Go put that on for me, baby girl. Wanna see you in it.”

“Don’t you want me to heat up dinner?” you ask, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“No, I want to feast on that delicious little body of yours, baby.”

Rafe watches you strut off toward the massive walk-in closet in the bedroom you share, trailing after you, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. He waits, drumming his fingers against his thigh, anticipation building as he imagines how fucking good you’re going to look in the sexy little number you’ve bought.

When you finally walk out of the closet, wearing those cute little white thigh high stockings with the pink ribbons at the top, a pair of pink Versace platform high heels, and the lacy bra and panties with a garter you bought, all pink of course, his jaw drops. You’re a goddamn vision, prancing around the room, twirling for him. You cover your mouth and giggle, wiggling your ass a bit.

“Do you like it, Daddy?”

He nods, licking his lips and stalking over toward you, pressing you up against your dressing table, “You’re fucking gorgeous. I can’t wait to tear that off you-”

“Nooo,” you protest quickly, shaking your head, “No tearing! Rafey, this is couture!”

“Fine, fine,” Rafe rolls his eyes, running his thumb along your lower lip, “You’re such a little tease, you know that?”

“Am not,” you pout as he turns you around, making you face the mirror, “Daaaddy…”

“You are too,” he chides, moving your hair off your back, trailing kisses along your skin, “You love to flaunt your sexy little body but never let me have too much at once.” Rafe presses himself against you, whispering in your ear, lips ghosting along your neck, “You know what I want from you, baby. Be a good little girl and give it to me.”

You finally seem to realize that the two of you are in front of the mirror. You look at his reflection and pout slightly.

“Raaafe, not in front of the mirror. You know I don’t like looking at myself when we…”

“But Daddy wants you like this, baby,” he purrs, nipping at your earlobe, hands moving around to the waistband of your panties, snaking inside to rub at your clit, loving the way your face twists in pleasure, “Just look at how fuckin’ sexy you are.” You moan his name softly as he kisses your neck, his other hand moving up to cup one of your breasts, squeezing it, “Yeah, baby?” Your head falls back against Rafe’s chest, your gaze half-lidded as you watch his fingers push your panties down and tease your wet pussy. “God, I love it when you let me touch you like this,” he grunts, pumping his fingers in and out of you, crooking them and watching you squirm, “You’re mine, baby. Nobody gets to touch you but me. You understand?”

You nod, your voice coming out in breathy pants, your hand moving to rest on top of Rafe’s, urging him to move faster, “Uh huh…”

“Uh huh who?” he demands, pinching at one of your nipples, grinning as you whine, “Use your words, baby. Or am I fucking you too stupid with my fingers? Did you forget who this pretty little pussy belongs to?”

You whine as he pinches at your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, “Y-yes, Daddy. Belongs to you.”

“That’s a good girl.”

You roll your hips in time with his fingers, confessing as he kisses your neck, marking your skin, “Been thinking about you all day.”

“Have you?” He whispers back, feeling you squeezing around his fingers, knowing you must be close, “What’d you think about, baby?”

“When you came home from golf all sweaty,” you admit, lashes fluttering, “Mmm, your fingers feel so good, Daddy… Need you…”

He chuckles, groaning as you rub your ass against his cock, his self restraint leaving him bit by bit when he feels you, “God, my little princess is demanding today. I like that.” He feels you reach your peak, soaking his fingers with a cry of his name. Rafe keeps eye contact with you in the mirror as he licks them clean with a moan, “Get on the bed on all fours.”

You immediately do as he asks, stripping out of your bra and panties, but leaving the stockings and heels on. Rafe unbuttons his pants, removing his clothes in a hurry, letting them join yours, giving his cock a few quick tugs. He presses his chest against your back, burying his cock deep inside your wet folds. His hand moves to squeeze at your throat as he fucks into you, his balls slapping against your ass, the feeling of him taking you raw being more intimate, letting him fuck you deeper than ever before.

“Daddy, no condom?” You ask breathlessly, though you make no effort to pull away.

“I’ll pull out, baby. Don’t worry.”

Too drunk on him, on your shared pleasure to care, Rafe continues slamming into your tight little cunt over and over again, one hand on your throat, the other groping at your tits as he gets closer and closer to his end, your walls pulsing around him over and over as he fucks into you with abandon. He hears you cry out his name, your whole body going lax as he gives one more, two more, three thrusts, cumming deep inside you, his hot spend seeping out of you. But he just pushes it back in with his fingers, ignoring your little whimper, pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently.

“Take a little breather, baby girl. I’m not done with you yet.”

rafe and reader fucking next to rafes (passed out) girlfriend

(optional: the gf is readers best friend)

🎶

What do you think? 💦

Your best friend was passed out right next to you, wine drunk off too many glasses. She had always been a heavy sleeper and it had annoyed you how hard she was to wake up. That was before you had her boyfriend’s huge dick inside you. It almost hurt how big he was, stretching your cunt out as his massive hands guided your hips up and down.

“That’s a good little slut. How does that big dick feel?” Rafe’s voice low as he looked at you with blue eyes that were completely darkened. You knew this was wrong, you were being a terrible terrible friend. This man though had a chokehold on you though.

“So-.. so big.” You whimpered, your pussy soaking his cock.

Chucking darkly, he slid his hands down to your bare ass. “I’m about to show you how big your best friend’s boyfriend’s dick is.” He whispered, holding you tightly as he started to thrust up into you. You wanted to scream, his massive length hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You bit your lower lip, tucking your head into his neck as he leaned in towards your ear. “Fucking you raw right next to your best friend. Hmm.. she doesn’t even get that.”

His words were dirty. Wrong as you should feel, all you could think about was how you were about to cum all over his dick. If your best friend didn’t hear the sounds of skin slapping and heavy breathing, she was sure to hear the sounds of your wet cunt.

“I’m a-about.. to cum.” You moan into his neck with a whine to your voice as this man had no signs of slowing down. His pants in your ear, low growls had you clenching down onto his cock.

“You might have to tell your best friend that you are knocked up with my baby.” Rafe’s voice still in your ear as you felt his cum shoot inside you.

pink sundress

dark!rafe x innocent!reader

based on: this ask!!!

cw: rough p in v sex , fingering, manipulation/coercion (DUBCON), slight sir kink (GOODBYE I HAD TO), degradation (rafe calls r a slut like twice), i think that’s it??

a/n: ok everyone please be nice bc this is my first time writing smut😭😭 i think it’s goooooood though and i’m excited to hear what y’all think! i actually worked really hard on this (like i deadass did research😭😭) and also got a bit carried away bc it’s 1.7k words but i’m very proud of it so i hope u all enjoy!!! anon bae i hope u love it and thank u so so much for ur request <3!!!!! and @sugarcoatedstarkey THANK YOOOUUU for helping me when i got stuck and for beta reading🥹💐💐💐<3

you swiped one more layer of chapstick on before turning your car off and hopping out. you walked through the front door of tannyhill, slipped your shoes off, and made your way up the stairs and into rafe’s bedroom. 

he met you at the door, opening it swiftly just as you were going to knock. 

“hey angel.” he pulled you into a hug and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, making you giggle.

“hey rafey.” you smiled as he stepped back to admire you. it was a particularly hot day in the outer banks, so you decided to wear the pink sundress rafe bought you recently. you loved the way it fit and how good it made your boobs look without a bra. 

by the way he was scanning over your body, almost hungrily, you could tell that rafe liked the dress, too. 

“do you like it?” you asked, gesturing to yourself with a smile. “it’s the one you just bought me.” 

“i-um-yeah.” rafe cleared his throat before he continued talking. “yeah baby, looks good on you.” 

a blush crept onto your cheeks as he pulled you in again, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck. 

his hands roamed all over your body as he kissed you. he slipped his hands under your dress and squeezed your hips harshly before moving up to cup your breasts. you gasped when you felt his rough hands on the soft skin. 

“rafe!” you tried to pull away, but he quickly moved his hands back to your hips and brought you closer to him. 

he walked you backwards to the bed and laid you down, his blue eyes growing dark as he towered over you. 

“come on, angel. you’ve been making me wait for months, and then you show up to my house, when its just us, wearing this?” rafe leans back, his eyes hungrily scanning over your body before leaning back in. you gulp at the feeling of his breath fanning your face. “and you think i’m just going to let you? that i’m not going to make you wish you’d worn something else?” 

“I…I…” you place both hands on his chest and try to push him off of you, but its no use. rafe is much stronger than you and his body is practically pinning you to the bed already. he laughs lowly and, before you know it, he’s got both of your wrists in one hand and raises them above your head. 

his grip is tightening and you’re squirming underneath him with tears slowly streaming down your face, but, again, he doesn’t budge. 

“hey, hey, stop.” rafe looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, like he can’t believe you’re actually fighting him-fighting this. “i do so much for you. i buy you anything you want. i take you on all these fancy dates and trips, and you can’t give me this one thing?” he drags his hand up your thigh, bunching your dress at your hip, before he speaks again. “don’t you want to make me happy? make me feel good?”

your mind raced as you thought about what he was saying- what he was asking of you. he did spoil you to no end, buying you whatever you wanted and letting you take his card when you went shopping with your friends. he did take you to the fanciest restaurants and he’d even taken you to his family’s house in the bahamas. he’d never asked for much in return, just for you to love and be loyal to him, and, of course, this. 

and, when you thought about it, was it really that much? after all he’s done for you, was it really too much for rafe to ask you to give yourself up to him? to let him be the one to take your virginity? 

you sniffled before answering him. “of course i do-”

“so give me this. show me how much you love me.” 

“i’m just…i’m scared, rafe, and i don’t know if i’m ready.” 

“nothing to be scared of, baby girl.” 

before you could object further, rafe was kissing you roughly and snatching your panties down your legs. 

his lips moved from your jaw to your neck, nipping harshly at the sensitive skin. 

while rafe’s mouth was busy peppering kisses up and down your body, his hands were hiking your dress up and over your head. he paused briefly once you were completely naked, his dark eyes raking over your bare figure 

he knelt inbetween your legs and hooked his arms around your thighs, snatching you towards him. before you could process what was happening, rafe buried his face in your already dripping cunt, his tongue devouring your clit like man starved. 

your back arched off the mattress as you gasped with pleasure. when you felt him insert a finger into you, your heels dug into his shoulders- the overwhelming feeling causing you to subconsciously move away from him. 

this only caused him to grab your hip with his free hand, dragging you back to him. 

“don’t fucking run from me.” he growled against your clit, the vibrations forcing a moan from your lips. 

“r-rafe, ‘s too much.” tears were streaming down your face as you spoke. 

he chuckled as he finally pulled his face away from your throbbing heat. 

“baby, we’re just getting started.” he returned to his position, his fingers and tongue making you dizzy. 

‘just getting started?’ you thought to yourself. if this was just getting started, you weren’t sure how you’d react to whatever else he had planned. your head was already spinning just from his fingers and mouth. 

“i’m-ah-’m…rafe!” you whined as the coil in your stomach strained tighter and tighter, waiting to be released. 

“yeah? you wanna cum?” he spoke, his raspy voice sending you into orbit. 

you nodded furiously. “yes! p-please!” 

rafe pulled his face away from you, his dark eyes staring directly into yours as he spoke. “hmm, i dunno, baby. you don’t really sound like you want to. why don’t you beg some more?” 

his fingers curled inside of you while he watched you, waiting to hear you beg for your release.

“please, rafe! i-i’m so close!” your back arched off the mattress again as his fingers worked their magic inside of you while he rubbed circles on your clit with his thumb and palmed himself through his shorts with his free hand. 

“come for me, princess. come on my fingers.” 

one more harsh rub on your clit and you came completely undone- your body jerking and your legs shaking as you came on rafe’s fingers. he fingered you through your orgasm, his dick growing painfully hard in his shorts at the way your walls squeezed his fingers. 

your mind was still racing when rafe stood up and placed his fingers in your open mouth while using his free hand to slide out of his shorts and boxers. he knelt in between your legs again and, without even giving you time to breathe, your legs were thrown over his shoulders and his hips slammed against yours as he rammed his dick inside you. 

you gasped at the sudden intrusion and your hands flew to his back, your freshly manicured nails searing into his skin as he thrusted into you. 

“fuck..” rafe threw his head back, groaning at the intense pleasure he was feeling between your pussy clenching around him and your almond shaped nails digging into his back. 

“this was what you wanted, huh? showing up in that tiny dress- practically begging me to fuck you like the slut you are.” 

“i…” you couldn’t find the answer he was looking for, as his pace had your mind all foggy, your vision blurry with tears. 

“answer me.” he grabbed your jaw roughly, forcing you to look at him as his hips rutted into yours- the sound of panting and skin slapping together filling his large bedroom. 

“yes! god, yes! y-yes sir!” your eyes rolled back in your head, too caught up to notice the way he twitched inside of you after calling him that. 

that, along with the way you were taking him so well and squeezing around him, your body telling him that you were close, was enough to give him the adrenaline boost he needed, picking up speed as he fucked you deeper into the mattress. 

“ra-fuck-” you breathed out. “rafe, i’m-”

“you wanna cum again, princess?” he asked, his fingers now digging into the soft skin on your hips as he held himself up. 

“mhm..” you moaned out. 

“come on then. be a good girl and ask me.” his eyes met yours, almost causing you to come undone immediately. his ocean blue eyes were now black and a thin sheen of sweat covered his skin, sticking his hair to his forehead. 

“rafe, please!” 

“yeah, come on, doll. make a mess all over my dick like the slut you are.”

and make a mess you did. your back arched off the bed, toes curling as you screwed your eyes shut. 

“uh uh, look at me. look at me while you’re cumming so you know it’s me whos making you feel this good. me, my dick, that’s ruining this tight pussy.”

you opened your eyes and held eye contact with rafe as he fucked you out of your high and into his. he let out a string of breathy “fuck”s and “Y/N”s as he released thick ropes of cum into you. once rafe finally rode out his orgasm, he pulled out of you and flopped onto the bed beside you, pulling you on top of him. 

your chests seemed to move in sync as the two of you struggled to catch your breath. you rested your head on your hands as you looked at rafe. he brushed your hair away from your forehead and planted a soft kiss to your lips. when he pulled away, he simply stared at you for a minute, causing you to giggle. 

“what?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. 

“gonna buy you that dress in every fucking color.”

Based on the tweet below. Unedited. FLUFF!!

Romantic Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader - (Teen Wolf). Ft. Noah.

Imagine... In which, friends don't usually make eachothers heart rate go up as you do, for Stiles.

"Dad, no, I'm meeting Y/n. I don't need that..." Stiles shook his head, refusing the bracelet.

"Like, hell you do!" Noah took no for an answer, slapping the bracelet on his wrists, and securing it. "You heard your doctor... all that werewolf-demon hunting, or whatever, you get Scott into--" Stiles scoffs at that, "has put stress on your heart and you need to keep an eye on it."

"But--"

"No buts." Noah gave him a stern look, "now go, enjoy your date! And dont take that off! I'll know if you do."

Noah sent him off, keeping an eye on him as he went. Making sure Stiles didn't take it off as soon as he stepped out the door.

Rolling his eyes as Stiles mumbled an unconvincing, "it's not a date, we're just friends..." under his breath.

"Yeah, right..." Noah scoffed, "Friends my ass."

//

Beep.beep.beep.

"Mm, wait--" you pulled back with a pop, lips chapped, "what is that?"

Beep.beep.beep.

"What's what?" Stiles asked, not caring. Lips pursed and waiting for more.

Beep.beep.beep.

"That!" You exclaimed, bringing him out of his state of bliss and causing him to slap a hand over his wrist, embarrassed, "Stiles, what is that noise?"

"Uhhh, the... oven?" He pouted, cutely, squinting his eyes. A tell of his. "Yeah! I, uh, I left it on." He slaps his forehead with an open palm, "stupid me."

Shaking your head, amused by his antics. You teased, "Stiles... we've been best friends for years and not once, have I known you to cook."

"You don't know that!" He slapped the hand, equipped with the watch, to his chest, appalled. Before slapping it back down, realizing he might've given himself a way. Nonetheless, he didn't relent, still playing into the lie. "I could've taken up baking for all you know."

"Yeah, maybe..." You shrugged, "But we're also miles from your house, remember?" Your words have him surveying the area, to which, he found you to be telling the truth. You both sat on the hood of his beloved Roscoe (something he'd let absolutely no one else but you do) and looking over Beacon Hills.

Gasping dramatically, he let out a cute, "ha! Would you look at that...you can hear my oven all the way from up here," He gazed back at you with a smirk before giving in with a sigh, at the look you gave him.

He didn't say anything, he just dropped his wrist into your lap, preparing for the unlimited teasing that was gonna ensue.

"Aww, is the little puppy excited?" You laughed at the way he turned his head. Pouting like the overgrown puppy that he is.

Leaning over to place a delicate hand on his jaw, you motioned for him to look back at you so you were face to face, noses just touching, "well, I think its cute."

"Yeah?" He nudged his nose against yours, all resolve falling at the attention you gave him.

"Yeah..." You leaned in closer, lips pressing deliciously into his and causing the beeping to increase significantly. Damn near breaking it and allowing him to see the truth in his fathers words...

Yeah... we're definitely not 'just friends'.

Written & Posted by @noonesgoneuntiltheyregone on: 17/10/23. Likes, feedback and reblogs are extremely welcomed!!

DON'T COPY OR REPOST MY WORKS!!

rafe perving on his step mom since like forever and he knows ward is out of town and catches step mom off gaurd by jerking off in ward/readers shared bed when reader gets out the shower

this is something i’ve been wanting to write but i’ve been lazy LOL

dis was hottttt 🤭 (tw masturbation, stalking/creept/pervy behavior from dark!rafe, reader is much younger than ward and prob less than 10 years older than rafe, shhhh just act like it makes sense ok)

leaving the door to your ensuite cracked was a mistake you would’ve corrected if you realized your step-son was going to be home today.

the sound of the water trickling down from the faucet and landing on the shower floor had drowned out any sounds rafe made when he crept into your room, dropped his pants and sank down onto the bed you shared with his father. he planted himself in the perfect spot, offering him a view of you behind the steamy shower glass through the cracked door.

the lotion in his palm was smoothed over his dick, which was already standing straight up at just the thought of his step-mother’s naked body on the other side of the steamed glass.

rafe pumped at his shaft gingerly at first, easing his hand over his tip and twisting it up and down his length until he started to get into a good rythym, then his hand picked up its pace.

he continued like this for minutes, hunched over the edge of the bed, free hand alternating between gripping the side of the sheets that you slept on and massaging his balls when they felt tight.

rafe’s so caught up in his sick deed that he doesn’t even hear the water shut off, doesn’t hear you pull the door open and step into the large room.

but he can’t miss the startled scream you let out, and his eyes flutter open to find you standing in the doorway, clutching your towel to your wet body as your breathing picked up.

rafe wasn’t nearly as freaked out as you were. in fact, your step-son seemed eerily calm, like he hadn’t just been caught jerking off in his father’s bed, the same bed that you slept in.

“are you kidding me?!” you brought a hand up to shield your eyes from the sick sight in front of you. “you’re digusting! get the hell out of my room!”

the boy only let out a long sigh of frustration, rolling his eyes and reluctantly dragging his boxers back up his legs, containing his still prominant erection back in the thin fabric. “relax,” he slurred, “quit freakin’ out.”

“quit freaking out?” you repeated his words in disbelief, “get out!” when the blonde simply sat and stared at you, you nodded your head and turned back towards the bathroom. “i’m just gonna call your father.”

the threat pushes rafe to his feet, and he’s easily able to clear the space between you two in seconds.

he stops you with a tight grip on your wrist, taking you closer to him. “yeah, i don’t think you wanna do that,” he spoke so lowly, and you felt so uncomfortable being this close to rafe. he looked even scarier towering over you, and your uneasiness was elevated when you tried to tug your wrist free from his grip, to no avail. “y’think i dunno what happened to wheezie’s little secret stash?”

you swallowed hard at that, clutching your towel tighter to your chest, and rafe smirked. “yeah, gotcha there, huh? you might have my dad fooled… but you’re not foolin’ me, sweetheart.” you cringed at the petname, futilely attempting to tug your arm away from your step-son again.

“you tell my dad about this, and i’ll tell him about his gold-digging whore of a wife stealing money from his own daughter. your choice.”

{ send me your dark!rafe ideas and don’t hold back!!! }

Best Friends Club

summary: prompt fill. Wally's been your best friend since the Grade 4 puppet show. a disaster that brought you together for life. only now, years later and months away from graduation, Wally needs to get something off his chest. he just...didn't exactly plan to do it this way... (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. friends to lovers. protective behavior. AU. silliness & fluff. Simon and Wally are bros (fight me).

bon reading, frens

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Best Friends Club

Wally's chatting with Maddie and Charley before school, has his arm around your shoulders as you focus on your phone, laughing and joking and smiling wide until:

"Holy crap, Jake Tremblay just asked me to go out Friday," You announce, pretty eyes wide, blinking in shock at everyone.

Wally goes still, smile sliding off his face as his stomach drops and his heart ups and lodges itself in his throat. God, this hurts.

See, the thing is, you're Wally's best friend. And while he has his arm around you—is always reaching for you, hand on your back, arm, shoulder, whatever—it's never been anything but friendly. Best friendly. Because you and he are f r i e n d s. And it sucks. Royally.

Why? Yeah, no one needs three guesses to figure out that Wally's been in love with you since Grade 4. That massacre of a puppet show the kids put on for their parents during Spirit Week. You and Wally spent the entire performance using sock puppets to have a dialogue about who'd win in a fight: Goku or Sailor Moon. Didn't even notice the blood vessel about to pop in Mr. Toast's temple when things really started to spiral.

Wally only comes down to earth when you say his name for what must not be the first time, everyone's eyes on him. Yours, especially, beautiful and concerned as you stare at him expectantly.

"What was that?" He asks, feeling simultaneously dumb and unable to function.

You repeat, "I asked you what I should say..." and turn to face him fully. Still close enough that your body heat soaks through his hoodie. Fuck, how can he say anything negative when you're giving him that sweet, earnest expression? Seeking advice from someone you trust implicitly.

Against his better judgment—or maybe for it—Wally slaps on a smile and says, "Yeah. You should go for it."

This isn't the first time you've been asked out. Of course, those last few times you didn't look so keen on accepting the offer. When you turn back to your phone, Wally's face immediately falls. He doesn't look at Maddie or Charley, can't handle the pity he knows he'll see in their eyes.

Everyone in the circle knows about Wally's crush on you (fuck, it's so much more than that), but apart from insisting he talk to you, no one points it out. You're the only one who hasn't caught on, Nicole having informed Wally that you giggled over popcorn, what are you talking about? Wally's always like that, when everyone was at the APEX for a midnight screening of some scary movie Wally couldn't have cared less about.

And, sure, Wally is 'always like that': Goofy, charming, flirtatious; standing in line at concessions for you and holding your bag when you go to the bathroom... What you don't seem to grasp is that Wally isn't like that with anyone else. And now you're saying 'yes' to Jake Tremblay and Wally has to muster the strength not to punch a wall.

‗•‗

Simon closes his locker only to jolt backwards. Wally appeared out of the fucking ether, what the hell? He has his forehead pressed against the locker beside Simon's, shoulders slumped, looking all-in-all miserable to exist.

"Yoouu okay?" Simon ventures, raising a brow.

Slowly, Wally turns his head and nothing else, eyes puppy-dog sad and lower lip pursed in a pout, "No." And then, after turning to face the locker again, "She said yes to Jake Tremblay."

"Dude, I've told you a thousand times, talk. to. her." Simon says like a mother insisting Wally clean his room.

Pointed, "Oh, you mean like you talked to Maddie?"

Simon takes a moment to reevaluate his life before, in a placid, neutral tone, declares, "I regret this friendship."

"No you don't." Wally says, but he's still glooming into the locker. "What do I do?"

"Aside from talk to her?" Simon shrugs helplessly. How's he supposed to know? He and Wally have been paddling the same sinking boat for approximately the same number of years. "Do you...wanna threaten Jake?" Simon asks in a pitch similar to that used when asking children if they want to go for ice cream after a tantrum.

Wally seems to seriously consider it but glumly decides, "No. I want her to be happy." A heavy sigh. "Even if it's not with me."

"This isn't going to make you some kind of martyr, you know."

"I know."

Simon doesn't think Wally does know, but fine, he'll play along. "Maybe it'll go so bad that she swears off dating forever."

"A guy can dream," Wally mumbles as he straightens, and, Jesus, he looks like every puppy in the world just got kicked and he was forced to watch.

Simon can see beneath Wally's utter despair to the gears turning in his brain. Can sense what ill-advised plan Wally is cooking up (because this isn't the first time he's done something stupid to ensure you're safe). In an effort to, a) avoid criminal charges and, b) make Wally feel better:

"What if I happen to be in the same place at the same time? I could keep an eye on things for you." Simon suggests and he already wishes he didn't say anything.

Wally brightens, "You'd do that for me?"

"Apparently..." Simon says, questioning himself. "Look, better me than you, right? Otherwise, it'll be exactly what it is and she'll never talk to you again."

"Why? What would it be if I do it?"

"Stalking, Wally," Simon states as he heads into History, Wally at his heels.

"Hey!" Wally protests, "It's not like that!"

Taking his seat, Simon just gives Wally a pointed stare, "Buddy, I know you read those BookTok romances, but following your BFF on her date with another dude isn't a romantic gesture. It's creepy a-f."

"But...you'll do it for me?" Wally wants to confirm, his eyes all wide and pleading.

Simon sighs, thinking this is a terrible idea, but seeing Wally so sad breaks Simon's heart and he can't bring himself to take back the offer. "...Apparently."

‗•‗

Friday comes. It's all you've been talking about since Monday and Wally has had it up to here with Jake This and Jake That, and if he hears one. more. thing. about Jake, Wally's going to burst into a million pieces of ragehate and take the whole school with him.

But he smiles and nods and teases you like he would in any other situation, bumping your ass with his hip when he finds you at your locker at lunch. You don't even need to look to know it's him, simply continue to shove your backpack in your locker and grab your jean jacket.

"Diner?" You give him a sunshine smile that Wally returns, almost forgetting about your date and Jake and how you're not actually Wally's girlfriend.

Not in this lifetime, his brain reminds him bluntly.

His blood stings.

Over lunch at the diner down the street, you outline exactly what Jake has planned. Dinner at the Italian place beside the Arcade (it's fucking Olive Garden, Jake, do better) and then—Jesus, really?!—stargazing on the roof of the old cigarette factory. An organized thing. The planets will be in some kind of super rare alignment or something, and local enthusiasts have banded together to share their telescopes.

"No offense, but since when do you care about the planets?" Wally wonders as he dips his fries into your ketchup.

You shrug, "I mean, it's something to do, right? And you're always telling me to 'branch out and try new things, dorkface'," You exaggerate the last part in a parody of Wally's voice before continuing as yourself, "so, why not astronomy?"

"Because it's outside and you hate outside things before May." Wally chuckles and shakes his head, "You're gonna get cold and complain and steal Jake's hoodie like you've stolen five of mine."

Wally loathed the idea of you stealing another guy's anything, but he smiled through the jealousy. Perhaps a little too intent on smearing more fries through your ketchup as his knee bumps the underside of the table in quick, nervous intervals.

Oh, he is not doing well.

He instantly notices how you've gone still, how you're studying his expression, words, behavior like a zoologist at the gorilla enclosure because Wally can't fucking keep his cool when he's forced to think about you being cozy and cute for someone who isn't him-shaped.

Wally keeps his eyes on his plate for a few moments; long enough that you gracefully change the subject and ask Wally what his plans are for tonight. As if they don't involve hanging out with his phone while he obsessively waits for Simon's updates throughout the course of your date.

"Nothing special," He says, patting himself on the back for keeping his voice even, "just hanging out at home."

‗•‗

It's 8:43PM when Wally's phone lights up with a call. As promised, Simon kept Wally abreast of every. single. thing. you and Jake did on your date. From flirty conversation over unlimited breadsticks to shifting to one side of the booth to split dessert.

It's only been an hour and a half since you and Jake were seated. What on earth could Simon have to tell him that couldn't be texted?

"Don't freak out—" Wally promptly freaks out "—but something happened."

Wally shoots up in bed, where he's been whiling away since he got home from school, and is immediately on alert. Heart pounding, blood pumping, ready for war.

"What's going on? Is she okay?"

"Oh. She's fine." Simon reports. He sounds like he's hiding, voice a harsh whisper just loud enough for Wally to hear. "Jake might be in a permanent body cast for the rest of his life, but she's totally fine."

Wally breathes a sigh of relief, although he's still confused, "What happened?"

Simon clears his throat, "She's probably going to call you in, like, a minute, so you have to act...just...be cool, okay?" And then, finally, he reveals, "Jake tried to stick his hand under her skirt. And I mean, he went for it. Full grope from behind."

At that moment, Wally sees fucking r e d. He's off the phone and in his car faster than a bullet, tearing out of his parents' driveway with a screech. Burns rubber around every corner; breaks several traffic laws; and pulls up just as you're about to get into an Uber. There's no sign of Jake. Unfortunate, since Wally has a surplus of adrenaline thrumming through his veins, and the only cure is beating the guy's face to a fucking pulp.

You look confused for all of a second before your face crumples. Wally shoots out of the driver's seat and hurries toward you. Gathers you in his arms as soon as you're within reach, and holds you as you shake. He rubs your back, soothes you with soft words; managing to simultaneously shoo the Uber driver away with a polite nod and a gesture.

"Are you okay?" He asks after a minute. "Do I need to kill him?"

"...No," You mumble into Wally's chest. "I already did that."

Wally grins, though it's sad at its edges. You shouldn't have had to.

"That's my girl," He murmurs into your hair after he places a comforting kiss on your head. "Come on. I'll drive you home."

You go without resistance, even allowing Wally to fuss over you and buckle you in. As he settles behind the wheel, he glances at you again and realizes, "Whose jacket is that?"

You press your lips together and stare at your lap, "I got cold... Besides, after what he did, I think I earned it." You end firmly, folding your arms.

"Did you take it before or after you kicked his ass?"

"After, duh." You say like it's so obvious, "We were inside before. But I didn't want to wait for my Uber in front of everyone who saw what happened. So...I made him give it to me."

Wally barks a laugh as he takes your hand, holding it in that platonic way, fingers not laced how he wants them to be, but he'll take what he can get. Your knuckles are scraped where they made impact with whatever part of Jake you punched. Wally smooths the pad of his thumb over them. Gentle. Loving.

"Where to, sweetcheeks?" He asks, "Home or ice cream?"

"Home." You decide with finality which makes it hard to swallow around the lump of disappointment in Wally's throat.

Call him selfish, but he hoped you'd want to let him comfort you. Regardless, he does as he's told and pulls away from the curb, pulling a uey to head toward your house.

‗•‗

On Monday, Wally finds Jake in the boys' locker room after swim practice, his black eye looking like it needs a twin. Wally punches Jake hard enough that even he sees circling birdies.

He shakes his hand as he leaves without a word, hardly feeling the pain through the smug satisfaction warming his belly.

‗•‗

It's the next weekend when you invite Wally over for a casual afternoon kick back. Games and snacks and Domino's on the menu for dinner. You're feeling better; spent the week oscillating between tense and weary, but that sweet sunshine glow you normally have is back when you answer the door for Wally.

You lead him to the basement, everything already set up: coffee table pushed aside for the nest of blankets and pillows on the floor, bags of gummy worms and twizzlers (Wally's favorite) and those Canadian chips you like piled on the floor beside cans of Dr. Pepper and Coke Zero.

Wally wore his cleanest sweatpants for the occasion, matching your chill vibe. And damn those low-slung yoga pants and that fucking tight-as-sin tank top, no bra because you love to drive Wally crazy.

"Ready to have your ass handed to you again?" You joke as you get comfortable on your side of the nest.

Wally claps back, "Hah! You haven't won in three months, sugarlips, what makes you think today's the day?"

You just smirk and hand Wally a controller, "I have a plan." And that's all there is to it. You don't elaborate, don't hint, don't give Wally any indication whatsoever what this plan might be.

Fishy...but effective. You're already in Wally's head. Hmm, maybe that's the plan? Wally shakes himself to attention and starts the game, grinning like a shark as he gets the lead right off the bat.

Just as he's about to cross the finish line, "So much for your pla—" when the world suddenly tilts sideways. He can't finish his thought, barreled over by your weight crashing into him as you grab the controller right out of his hand.

You squeal victoriously, the sound rebooting his brain, and he realizes what just happened.

"Hey!" He tries to grab the controller, but you hold it up and away from him, big smile on your face as the screen announces Wally came in dead last after his car smashed a wall he could've easily avoided. "Not fair!" He wraps his arms around you and flips you onto your back; presses his weight into you as he uses the advantage of his longer limbs to snatch the controller back.

Apparently not taking this lying down, you band your legs around his waist then surge up, somehow summoning the strength of five Wallys and rolling him onto his back again. Stunned, he stares up at you as you wave the controller victoriously.

"You were saying?" You chuckle, smug as ever, slightly out of breath.

Oh, but Wally isn't done yet, miss ma'am. He snaps his hands up, clamping his fingers for the controller which you arch your back to hold away from him, crying out when he takes advantage of your off-balance position to knock you backward. Once more, he has you squirming beneath him.

He grabs one wrist and then the other, transferring both into the grip of one of his large hands while he plucks the controller from you with the other. That's about the moment he realizes, uh-oh, he can feel your breath on his lips. Your face is such a beautiful shade of pink, and your thighs are on either side of his hips. Wally's body is completely flush against yours. All of him. Every. Last little bit. of him.

Wally should move. Definitely. He should move right now; just get off you and pretend everything's normal and you're not gazing up at him like that and his lips aren't so fucking close to yours, and the air hasn't been sucked out of the room that no longer exists around you and him because there's only you and only him and fuck. Shit.

"Wally~?" You say, voice a whisper tinged with something that makes Wally's cock twitch. Heat, maybe. Or need. You swallow, the sound audible, and, oh fuck, Wally watches your eyes flicker to his mouth then back, like you're finally on the same page, like you want it, too.

His hand flexes around your wrists, body settling more firmly on yours, and he stares at your face as he rocks his hips, just once, experimental, just to see what you'll do. He knows you can feel him, stiff and hardening further, all his inches against the heat of your pussy through your thin as fuck yoga pants.

Your reaction almost explodes Wally's brain. That sweet little whimper, how your eyes glaze over and your lips part; how you mimic the action with one of your own, sending sparks of electricity through Wally's nervous system.

"Fuck," He chokes out, grip loosening around your wrists, but not letting go. He drops the controller. Instead uses that hand to brush his fingers across your cheek and down the slope of your jaw. His breath mingles with yours, the heat in him rises, his heart beating a frenzied tattoo in his chest. Is he really going to do this?

"Please," You say, so soft, so perfect, that, yes, Wally is absolutely going to do this.

He gently bumps the tip of his nose against yours, smiles in wonder that this is really about to happen, and then slowly, to give you a chance to turn away if you don't want this, he leans in, stopping only to tease, "One more time, princess." His voice low and husky.

He feels you tense and then release before whispering, "Please, Wally..."

That's all he needs to lean in and kiss you for the first time, his lips capturing yours with years of hunger and desire and fucking love. So much love it threatens to go nuclear if Wally doesn't share the burden right this minute.

He moans, grinds his hips against yours, his cock throbbing against you, God, he needs you so badly. Has needed you so badly since he first discovered how his dick works and probably even before then. He lets his hand roam down down down, then up under your tank top, fingers caressing the soft shape of your breast.

You keen and arch into the touch, and, holy shit, he can't do this slow. Next time—please Jesus, let there be a next time—he'll do this right. He'll do candles and rose petals and Barry Manilow, but right now, he has to know what it feels like when you come around his cock.

His kisses turn urgent, his movements more hungry, and you match his crazy like a mirror. His shirt first, thrown behind the TV, then yours, tossed somewhere near the coffee table. Wally takes a second to admire your bare chest, licks his lips, and then descends, starving for a taste. He sucks your nipple, twirls his tongue around it, moaning as if it's the best thing he's ever had in his mouth.

Which, as soon as he peels your yoga pants off and resituates himself between your spread-wide thighs, he knows isn't true. This is the best thing he's ever had on his tongue. He spears it in and out of you, moaning and panting as he kisses your pussy deeply, brings one, two fingers into the mix; pumping into you over and over until you shake and beg and arch so fucking pretty for him.

"Fuck, baby, I need to feel you come," He groans, shoving his sweatpants and boxers off and throwing them somewhere to find later.

You agree enthusiastically, reaching for him as you hook one leg over his hip, the other over his shoulder—fuck, were you always this bendy!?—and cry out like a heavenly chorus when he drives his cock into you. Fuck, God, his eyes roll back in his skull, it's the most incredible feeling, an indescribable euphoria flushing through him from scalp to soles.

"You feel so...big, Wally, oh my god," You gasp when he begins to move, and doesn't that just rub his ego the right way?

He genuinely can't even find the brain cells to reply, too busy losing himself to the sensation of being inside you, finally, so much more intense than any and every fantasy he's had of you and him entwined like this.

"Baby," He moans, hips pumping faster, fat tip hitting your sweet spot over and over and over until he feels you tighten around him, hears you gasp, and then moan in ecstasy.

He wishes he could last, that he could keep going until you come again, again, again, but he's waited so long for this and it's overwhelming, he can't do it. With one, two, three more quick thrusts, Wally tenses and then groans, grinding his release into you; leaning down to take your lips in a feverish kiss.

As you and he recover, he rests his forehead against yours, releases your wrists—oops—and cradles your face in one hand, his most precious girl a vision in the afterglow. You shift, your hands on his jaw, and you're looking at him like the sun, moon, and stars.

"How long?" You eventually ask.

Wally doesn't need you to clarify. He knows exactly what you mean.

"Grade 4." The confession is terrifying and freeing at the same time.

He watches you absorb the information, nod, and then your eyes meet his when you make your own confession, "Grade 3. Ms. Houette's class. You made a joke about seagulls that was so lame it was funny."

Wally about short-circuits. He begs your finest pardon, but what was that? "Grade...3?"

"Grade 3."

"...are you saying that I could've been loving on you—" He emphasizes with a roll of his hips, winces from oversensitivity, "—since before I even understood what that meant?"

"I'm saying I've had a big, stupid crush on you since Grade 3." You say, innocent and solemn, "You take that however you want."

Wally chooses to forego the existential crisis and simply enjoy that he has you under him. There's a lot of time to make up for and a lot of fantasies Wally wants to bring to life, which you and he do with gusto until your parents get home and call down a hello.

It's only later, after stammering greetings and life updates over pizza, when you're snug as a bug in Wally's arms on the couch in the basement, dozing to the third Harry Potter movie, does Wally begin to mentally prepare for the speech of a lifetime that he knows Simon is going to deliver.

He already hears Simon's voice in his head: "I told you to talk to her—"

And Wally huffs a quiet chuckle, strokes your hair back, and kisses your forehead. Because, yeah, he should've. There would've been no pining, no pseudo-martyrdom, no Jake Tremblay.

It really is invaluable advice.

If only Simon would take it himself...

fin.

☄️___________________________

also on AO3!

Order Up! MASTERLIST

if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Marshmallow Miles.

a cutie-smut-lite oneshot wherein Wally wants to celebrate your birthday away from Split River. Because he can.

Off to the Races

Stepfather!Rafe Cameron x Stepdaughter!Reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Masterlist

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Local legend and former playboy Rafe Cameron is winding down and now ready to settle down. Older, maybe wiser, extremely wealthy and definitely fearing the ticking of time. He meets his wife and marries her quickly —a socialite not too much older than him. Ready to give her his heart, soul & build a life with her in his former home of Tannyhill. That was until her young daughter came bounding into his life… captivating him in every way. Settling her spot in every fiber of his being & replacing the love Rafe has for her mother every single day with only thoughts of her… now he’s sure his wife isn’t the one he wants —but her daughter. Both of them cut from the same cloth and destined to be together. They’ll do anything to end up with one another… no matter who they hurt or what it takes.

warnings: smut / fluff / angst. pseudo / stepcest. dd/lg dynamics. infidelity. toxic / violent / abusive behaviors (gaslighting, manipulation, verbal, etc). power imbalances. dark themes / adult content.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ navigation. ੈ✩‧₊˚ main masterlist

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Chapter i

Chapter ii

Chapter iii

Chapter iv

Chapter v

Chapter vi

Chapter vii

© 2024 | rafesplaymate

Ride

Ryan Baker x Fem!Reader

Summary: A year after the chaos at Rightmart, you find yourself locked in a supply closet with the one person you hate the most.

Warnings: 18+, dry humping, enemies, slight edging, pure smut w/little to no plot.

a/n: you guys asked, and I delivered ;).

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The sound of your feet slapping on the linoleum floors echoes off the walls of the dimly lit hallways. Your lungs burn, your feet hurt and your throat is raw from screaming. Every time you breathe in, it sends bursts of pain through your chest, leaving you whimpering. But you know you can’t stop. 

For the past 10 minutes, you’ve been swerving through the halls of your high school, trying to escape from the wrath of a killer. Plymouth, Massachusetts very own, John Carver. 

Well, not actually John Carver. Exactly a year after the ‘incident’ at Rightmart during Black Friday, a psychopath decided to dress up in a plastic John Carver mask and go on a spree. He’s already claimed 2 victims in the past week alone. And, unfortunately, you’re next on his list. 

His victims (so far) were each featured in the video your dumbass friend, Evan, posted online during the incident. He stood on a cashier counter and recorded the chaos of the shoppers around him, killing each other over 20% off waffle makers. Of course, you had your very own cameo. That video alone might earn you an axe in the head.

You turn a corner, skidding to a stop as the sound of the killer's footsteps completely ceases. The school is eerily quiet, the only sound you hear is your own blood pumping loudly in your ears.

Just as you begin to relax, assuming he left, a hand wraps around your hoodie, pulling you into a dark closet.  A sharp gasp slips from your lips, filled with surprise and fear, but it's abruptly stifled as a strong hand clamps down over your mouth. Your eyes squeeze shut, worried if you open them the first thing you’ll see is the cool metal of an axe pummeling towards your face.

Instead, as you muster the courage to peel your eyelids apart, the world slowly comes into focus, revealing Ryan Baker mere inches away from your face. Seeing how close he is, you’d honestly rather take the axe.

It has been a year since Ryan abandoned you in Right Mart, a day that still haunts you. You still remember the cold tile beneath you as you sat, paralyzed, while screams echoed around you and chaos unfolded. Ryan, your ‘best friend’, vanished when you needed him most, leaving you shaking on the cold floors, blood pooling around you. So, you vowed to never speak to him again, let alone look at him.

You try to fight against his hand, but he pushes it further against your mouth, his leg trapping you against the wall. He looks through the slit in the door, and you squint, following his line of sight. Footsteps echo past the door, the sound of metal scraping against the wall vibrating through the thick wood. 

The realization hits you like a semitruck. Ryan just saved your life. The killer must’ve turned the other way and looped around. Had Ryan not pulled you into the closet, you would’ve run headfirst into the man. 

The footsteps disappear, and the only sound you can hear is the front door to the school swinging open and slamming shut. The fear and anxiety bleeds out of you once you know you’re safe, those feelings being quickly replaced with anger. Your hand finds his and you pry it off your mouth, taking a deep breath. 

“Why are you sitting in a closet like a creep?” 

He scowls, genuinely appalled at your lack of thankfulness. “I just saved your life and that’s all you can say to me?” 

With an exaggerated sigh, you roll your eyes in a mix of annoyance and reluctant acceptance, knowing he’s right.

“Would've been nice if you did that last year.” You reach for the doorknob, fingers wrapping around the cool metal. The knob doesn’t turn, instead, it makes a horrible grinding sound that reverberates through your bones. Ryan doesn't seem to notice, instead opting to run his mouth like usual. 

“Are you seriously still fuckin’ mad about that? I already told you why I left-“

“Ryan-“

“No- I’m talking! You’d be fucking dead-“

“Ryan! The door is stuck!” You yell, stopping his rant.

He finally pauses, and glances over at the knob. He turns it, the grinding sound filling your ears, making you wince. His eyebrows furrow in frustration as each turn of the knob brings the same conclusion. 

He throws his shoulder against the sturdy door repeatedly, each hit resonating with a mournful groan. Despite his efforts, the door remains in place, holding its ground.

Fuck.

────────────

He’s way too close to you. The closet is small and stuffy, leaving both of you barely any room to move. Ryan is sitting across from you, his knees pushed against yours. After sitting on the hard concrete floor for what feels like hours, you begin counting the different things that line the shelves. 27 toilet paper rolls, 18 paper towel rolls, and 3 dirty rags...  A mop, 2 brooms… Okay, you’ve officially gone off the deep end. 

Your train of thought is interrupted by Ryan. He hasn’t even moved, nor made any sounds in the past 10 minutes. It's his cologne. It fills the small space, and it makes you dizzy. The fragrance is expensive, musky. Fucking intoxicating. 

Right now, when you’re supposed to hate him, it just makes you fucking furious. He has no right to smell like that... And look at you like that. And look like that. God, why does he look so good? 

He clears his throat, his eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Scoffing, you pull your knees closer against your chest. “Because I’m mad at you!”

Ryan runs his hand through his thick brown hair, a few strands falling in front of his eyes. Shaking his head in frustration, he lets out a laugh. “I can’t believe you’re still mad about that! You’re so dramatic.”

Your face drops, and you stare at him blankly. His audacity is genuinely astounding. “Are you serious?”

Ryan opens his mouth for a second, his voice dying in his throat as you interrupt him. “You abandoned me in the middle of that fucking store. You- You left me to die, Ryan!”

The boy shakes his head, laughing bitterly again. God, he’s infuriating. “You know what? You seemed pretty protected already,” He scoffs, resting his arm on his knee. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what the hell he was talking about. Countless times, you’ve argued with him over this. It was always the same excuse: “I couldn’t find you in the crowd, so I left.” But, this? This was new.

“The fuck does that mean?”

He pauses, seemingly recounting that night. “Bobby. He was all up on you. You seemed fine, so I left,” he mutters, his voice laced with bitterness and… Jealousy? Something you can’t place.

Utterly dumbfounded, you laugh in surprise, fingernails digging into your palms. “Are you fucking kidding me? Bobby?!” It was the lamest excuse you have ever heard. Last year, he abandoned you in the middle of the purge for god's sake, because he saw Bobby ‘Golden Arm’ Di Stasi breathe within 2 feet of you.

Ryan scoffs again, his 20th within the hour. “I don’t get why you care so much! You’re fine! He seemed to have it all covered.”

“Because I wanted you there! Not fucking Bobby!” You yell out, voice reverberating off the walls.

Startled, Ryan recoils, eyes widening in shock. A brief flash of guilt crosses his face before he quickly hardens his resolve, transforming that guilt into a simmering anger. “You seemed pretty fuckin’ comfortable, princess,” he volleys back, voice laced with venom.

“I’m sorry he was actually there for me, unlike you! Seems to me that someone got jealous because they saw an attractive guy on top of me,” you blurt out.

Ryan’s face twists into purse disgust. “Attractive?? Stop dick riding for one fuckin’ second!”

“What’s with you and dicks? You wish it was you?” In all your years of being friends, you never were at the point of making sex jokes with him. Now, they seem to keep spilling out.

“I don’t know, you seem to know a lot about them!” He leans against the cool surface of the wall, tension radiating from his posture. His eyes, sharp and narrow, pierce through the dim light, filled with accusation.

“God, fuck you!” You let out a derisive laugh, a sharp sound that hangs in the air, as you avert your eyes from him.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He leans forward, his voice getting deeper. You still refuse to look at him. “Me taking you, right here in this closet?” His tone is teasing, dark. It’s meant to be a joke, played off as something just to get under your skin. But his eyes gleam with challenge.

You turn your head back to Ryan, your lips almost brushing against his, the tension heavy. He slid closer during the chaos of the fight, his body trapping you in. Cologne envelopes you like a blanket, your heart hammering in your chest.

“And what if I did?” For just a split second, Ryan’s eyes widen, his pupils blowing.

Just as you’re about to fight your own words, you suddenly feel the warmth of his lips pressing against yours. A firm hand grips your waist, drawing you closer until you find yourself nestled between his legs. Instinctively, your hands push against his chest, seeking balance as your heart races. The kiss breaks, and his eyes meet yours—glossy and unfocused.

You’re nestled between his legs, the warmth radiating from him grounding you as your fingers rest gently on his broad chest. His hands cradle your face, thumbs brushing softly against your skin. “Shit—I'm sorry—” he stammers, just as shocked as you are, even though he’s the one who started it.

Confusion swirls within you as you try to grasp the reality of what just happened. Your eyes search for answers, but all you find is a wide-eyed stare that mirrors your own bewilderment. His lips part slightly, as if he might speak, yet silence continued to hang heavily between you.

Within a few heartbeats, you pull his lips back towards you, teeth hitting his. The kiss is all teeth, desperate and intense. He gasps against you, hands wrapping around your waist to steady your body against his own. Underneath you, he crosses his legs, pulling you into his lap, causing you to yelp.

Hands finding the back of his neck, you tangle your fingers into the thick hair at his nape. He groans softly, tongue flicking across your bottom lip, seeking entrance. Obliging, you part your lips, inviting him in. With another groan, his tongue finds yours, tasting toothpaste and something sweet.

You whimper softly, eyebrows pulling together. He pulls at your hair, giving himself access to the side of your neck. Tongue sliding against your jaw, he peppers kisses along the sharp bone. Shaky breaths escape your lips with each press of his lips. For years, a part of you wondered what the curve of his mouth would feel like against your neck.

But, now, in the present? It was better than anything you could ever conjure up in your head. A nip of his teeth at your pulse point pulls you out of your thoughts. “Fuck…” Soft whines and whimpers leave your throat, matching the rhythm of Ryan’s lips against you.

All of your movements cease as he wraps your legs around his waist, pressing his hips against yours. You pull back, blinking down at him. Through all the fabric, you feel something pressing against your core. Your gaze is drawn to where your bodies meet, as you gape at the noticeable bulge in his jeans. 

“See what you do to me?” Ryan groans out, grinding his hips up slowly, the friction making you bite your lip. In real time, you can feel him harden beneath you. Despite your many fantasies, you’d never imagined this. Ryan was just your best friend. The kid who used to bathe in pink bubbles. Never once did the thought that he even had a dick crossed your mind.

Now, sitting right on top of him, knowing you did that to him, your brain goes fuzzy. All thoughts are thrown out the window, your head filling with pure lust. Testing the waters, you grind against his jeans, watching each twitch of his face. 

Large hands slide down your body, grabbing a handful of your ass. Ryan pulls you harder against him, guiding your hips with his hands. Each movement causes fabric to rub against your clit, your fingers digging further into his bicep. He readjusts, spreading his legs apart for you, his hand bracing on the floor behind him. 

The feeling in your stomach tightens with each calculated roll of his hips. As much as you want all of him, the feeling is intoxicating. Neither of you can bring yourself to stop—even to strip. Ryan’s groans fill the closet, mixing with your escalating whimpers. The coil within you twists into knots, your hips jerking with each movement.

Ryan keeps you steady, making sure he’s hitting all the right spots. You feel your panties sticking to you, soaking straight through your too-tight shorts. Looking down, you see the denim on Ryan’s jeans darken. He doesn’t seem to mind, instead nipping at your collarbone.

“Ryan- Please,” you whimper, legs beginning to tremble softly. He leans back to look at you, grunting as he rolls his hips harder.

“Please what? You wanna come, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice mocking. All his movements stop, his fingers digging into your ass. You sneer at him, your eyebrows knitting tightly together in frustration. Heat throbs uncomfortably at your core. “Use your words.”

“Fuck you!” You spit venom at his face, your forehead pressed against his as your chest heaves. A low chuckle rumbles in Ryan’s throat, his fingers squeezing your hips. His bruising grip foils any attempt to move. 

“Come on, I know you have it in you,” he urges, rolling his hips slightly, bringing you teetering over the edge. Whimpers leave your lips, frustration bubbling deep within you. He wants you to beg? Fine, you’ll fucking beg.

“Please,” you breathe out softly, biting your lip, eyelashes batting. Ryan shakes his head, seeing right through your little act. He holds you still for what feels like hours, not satisfied with any of your answers. You can tell he needs a release too, but it’s obvious how much the ‘sick fuck’ is enjoying it.

“Please, Ryan,” you whimper, desperation leaking into your voice. Your resolve crumbles as you lose yourself in a blind desperation.

“Please, please…” you repeat, over and over, pure lust crowding your vision. Never in your fucking life–especially not in the last year–did you expect to be pleading with Ryan Baker to make you come. But here you are, panties soaked, face painted with crimson, planted right on top of his dick.

Finally, he deems your pleading good enough and he continues his movements, this time moving deeper. Slower. Within a few moments, your legs tighten around his waist almost painfully. You throw your head back, your mouth open in a silent scream. He watches you tremble with a smirk on his face, your body jerking on top of him violently. 

Obviously, his teasing was too much for you. Each time he brought you close to the edge, it just increased your sensitivity. Still, he rides you through your orgasm, his hips chasing yours, seeking his own release. Face twisting, he bites down on your neck, marking you as his. As he bites down, he groans through his teeth, hips jolting up. Wetness spreads beneath your ass, the evidence of his orgasm clear, even through his jeans.

You pull back to look into his eyes, still catching your breath. In the dim light of the closet, he looks fucking gorgeous. Strands of thick black hair fell over his forehead, his lips plump and smeared in lip gloss. Inside the walls of the closet, it’s only him. No Rightmart, no Bobby, no John Carver. Just him.

Basking in the moment for just a second, you press your lips softly against his. Maybe you’ll never forgive him, but as your legs continue to tremble, your feelings inevitably begin to change. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, sneakers slap on the floor just outside the closet.

Both your heads snap over to the door, pure fear cascading down on you, pulling you out of your fantasy. The doorknob twists, the harsh sound reverberating deep in your soul. Neither of you makes an effort to move, frozen in fear. What can you do? Beat him with a wet mop?

Suddenly something snaps and the door swings open, causing the person on the other side to stumble slightly. As the fluorescent light pours into the stuffy dimly lit room, your eyes widen. On the other side, your entire friend group gapes, way past dumbfounded.

Jess stares down at you both, her jaw hanging open. There was no getting out of this.

Eyes flicker over Ryan’s tousled hair. His lips, glistening with Cherry gloss, draw attention like a magnet before the group's gaze settles on the large damp patch spreading across the fabric of his jeans. As if your being caught sitting on his fucking lap wasn’t damning enough, they continue to stare blankly at you both, inspecting you like Sherlock fucking Holmes.

In a few heartbeats, chaos erupts. 

“Ew! What the fuck!” Gabby yells, her voice rising by almost 4 octaves.

“I thought you hated him!” Jess says, tearing her eyes away, obviously too uncomfortable to even process what’s going on. “Does getting chased by a fucking serial killer turn you guys on?!” Evan runs a hand through his hair, genuinely shocked, a state you’ve never seen him in before. “Y’all are fuckin’ freaks!” Scuba laughs wildly, clapping his hands as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen.

Yulia just stays silent. You knew always liked her the best for a reason.

As your friends continue to hound you both, you slowly stand up, Ryan following suit. He follows behind you like a puppy, earning a clap on the back by Scuba. Jess shakes her head at you, too lost to even be disappointed. 

You both do the walk of shame through the hallway, pants uncomfortably soaked through. As you shuffle your feet, your friends laugh and elbow you in the ribs. Ryan steals a few glances, sporting a smug smirk.

Dick.

Still, you can't help but smile back.

hiii, could i request reader pranking rafe/drew? Maybe telling rafe/drew that she got waxed by a guy or pretending to be on a call with a friend and telling her friend ways to cheat? It’s up to you, thank you soooo much!!

possessive!rafe(?), illusions to sex

“babe, im home!” you announced entering the house, the door swinging shut as you kicked off your shoes.

you made your way into the kitchen where your boyfriend was preparing lunch, his eyes falling on you with a smile.

“how was it?” he asked, wiping his hands on a towel before coming over to wrap his arms around your waist, bending down to give you a sweet kiss on the lips.

“good! it didn’t hurt as much this time,” you responded, watching as he hummed before turning back to finish his lunch, a small smirk making its way on your face.

“he was really nice as well, gave me a discount-”

“pause-” rafe cut off, whipping his head around with wide eyes, almost as if he didn’t hear you the first time.

“he?”

you pretended to act confused, slowly nodding as you shrugged your shoulders, “it was this new guy, but he did a good job.”

“y/n what the fuck- slow down-” he said, bringing his hand up to run through his hair before he let out a huff, “you let a guy wax you?”

“mhm,” you nodded, “what’s the big deal?”

his jaw dropped, completely flabbergasted at the way you were responding to all of this.

“he waxed your vagina!”

you nodded once again, keeping up the act of pretending to be confused as he stalked closer.

“you let another guy look at what’s mine?” he asked, voice low and breathing slow as he brought his hand up to hold the side of your face.

you could genuinely see the hurt in his eyes, deciding to stop the prank as you let out a small giggle, causing him to look at you in confusion.

“im just joking rafey,” you laughed, taking his free hand and holding it up to your lips to give his knuckles a kiss, “i had a girl do it, like it’s always been.”

“god woman,” he groaned, stepping away from you to run his hands over his face as you couldn’t help but giggled.

“you’re in for it now,” he said before taking you by the waist and hurling you over his shoulder, a squeal leaving your lips as he took you upstairs.

let’s just say, lunch was forgotten about.

wisdom teeth

words: 1.1k

warnings: dentist, blood

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

“ma’am?” the voice rings through the waiting area. your head shoots up, realizing that she must be talking to you.

“hi, how is he?” you question, slinging your purse over your shoulder and pocketing your phone.

“the procedure went completely fine. we are trying to place the gauze in his mouth now but he keeps insisting on seeing you.” the receptionist says, a slight blush to her cheeks.

“oh!” you say, eyebrows raising. 

“follow me, please.” she says, leading you back further into the building.

“he’s being quite rowdy, isn’t he?” you ask, able to hear through the shut door the incessant questions, asking where you are, asking why you aren’t with him.

“some patient react differently to the anesthesia. it’s nothing we haven’t seen before, so don’t be embarrassed, doll.” the receptionist assures you, opening the door and letting you into the post op room.

“baby! there’s my baby!” rafe says, his hair a mess over his forehead, blood dry and crusted on his chin.

“hey, rafey.” you say calmly, hoping your relaxed attitude will influence him to calm down. “i’m right here, honey.”

you cross to his bed, glancing briefly at the dental assistants, one who looks annoyed that their clean up is taking so long, but the other gives you a sweet smile.

“you’re so pretty.” rafe slurs. “i love you.”

“i love you too, honey.” you coo, taking his hand, still slightly limp, in yours. “you have to let the nice women help you though. they’re here to clean you up for me.”

“you gonna kiss me when im all clean?” rafe asks, his lower lip pouting out.

you nod. “gently though, baby.”

“what did they do to me?” rafe questions, now sitting still as the nurses wipe away the blood on his chin.

“they just took your wisdom teeth out. they were hurting you but you’ll feel all better now.” you explain softly, petting his hand and arm to calm him as the nurses continue to rub at the dried mess.

“open your mouth.” the mean looking nurse says, her voice too stern for your liking, but before you can speak up, rafe turns to her, a look of fury in his eyes.

“i will not open my mouth for you. i only do what my baby tells me to do, so fuck off.” “rafe, oh my god!” you shout as the sweet nurse cracks up. “watch your language.” “i’m sorry, but this girl was trying to flirt with me! she wanted me to open my mouth for her, can you believe that?” rafe asks, his eyes flickering between looking softly at you and glaring at the assistant.

“they just want to put some gauze in your mouth. open up and let them, sweetie.” “fine.” rafe hums, his brow scrunched together as he turns back to the nurse. “i will because my baby asked me to, not for you.”

you shake your head but smile when rafe opens his mouth, allowing them to finish cleaning up. you stay next to his bed, holding his hand firmly in yours.

“can i be alone with my baby now?” he asks them as the nice assistant tells rafe he can close his mouth now.

“we recommend waiting at least a half hour until the anesthesia wears off a bit more before trying to get him out to the car. we can leave you two in here, but try not to let him talk too much, it’s only going to cause his mouth to bleed more.” “that’ll be hard, but i’ll try. thank you.” you nod to them as they leave the room.

“rafey, be quiet for me, okay baby?” you tell him, sitting down on the side of the bed, stroking your hand through his hair to smooth it out over his forehead, back in its proper place on either side of his part.

“but i want to tell you how beautiful you are and how much i love you and how much i wanna marry you one day and how much i lov-” “thank you, rafe.” you cut him off. “you can tell me all that real soon, but for now you have to be quiet so your mouth can heal, mmkay?”

“fine, i’ll stop talking. but you did promise me a kiss.” rafe says, and then dramatically shuts his mouth before puckering his lips.

“a gentle one.” you remind him, leaning forward and pressing your lips as softly as you can against his, putting your hands on his chest to stop rafe from leaning forward and deepening the kiss.

you pull away, but before rafe can open his mouth to complain, you kiss along his cheeks, then forehead, covering his face in soft presses of your lips to keep him happy and calm.

you tuck your chin into the crook between his shoulder and neck, stroking your hand over his chest as you cuddle up to him. “i’ll talk to you to keep you entertained, yeah?” rafe nods, nuzzling into your hair. you begin to whisper stories into his ear, anything you can remember to pass the time. tales your mother told you when you were little, or recapping movies that you’ve watched enough times to remember the plot clearly.

theres a knock on the door as you straighten up, calling out for the assistant to come in. she enters the room with a wheelchair. “time to go!” “yes.” rafe says, pumping his fist in excitement. “did you here that baby? its time to go.”

“i did, rafey. remember we are supposed to be quiet though.”

“thats right.” rafe nods. “im letting my mouth heal.”

the nurse laughs gently, wheeling the chair towards the bed. rafe is able to get into it pretty much without your help, but sends the assistant a glare when she tries to push the wheelchair.

“you’re gonna take me someplace without my baby again?”

“no, honey, she’s just helping us get to the car. and then i’m gonna take you home.” you explain softly, moving to walk ahead of the wheelchair so rafe can keep you in his sight.

“we live together?” rafe asks as you help him into the passenger side seat of the car.

“we do.” you remind him, taking the buckle and strapping it across his chest. you thank the assistant, who tells you again what rafe can and can’t do over the next 24 hours, before bidding you both farewell. 

you carefully shut rafes door before rounding the other side of the car. you lean over to press a kiss to his cheek before putting the car into drive, thankful that its a short way home so you can get rafe laying and relaxing again soon.

you click the radio on, but rafe frowns and shuts it off. 

“whats wrong baby?” you question. “don’t want to listen to music?” “no.” rafe shakes his head, an adorable pout on his lips. “i want to hear more of your stories.”

you let out a soft laugh before conceding. “of course baby.”