I’ve Been Considering Writing Some Because The Lack Of It Is Tragic.

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?”

So, I started trying to write this ages ago and now suddenly there is a blurb? Idk how it happened either.

18+, MDNI 1.5k

cw: smutty smut, oral (m!receiving) dom-ish!eddie (he’s back to being a docile puddle by the end, dw), spit and tears and cum (oh my!), face fucking, but make it ~*~romantic~*~

There wasn’t a single part of you that didn’t hurt.

The hinge of your jaw aching from being stretched open, your numbed legs tingling from being folded underneath you, your knees stinging from the scratchy carpet fibers digging into them. Even your hips and shoulders were growing tight from trying to keep your back straight.

Your tired muscles screamed out for relief, for a second of respite—but they wouldn’t be getting it anytime soon. Not when the reason for their pain was so delectably and deliciously handsome.

“How’s that, sweetheart? You like that?”

Eddie’s voice was low and rumbly, emanating from deep in his chest. Just the sound of it made your center spasm and flutter, thighs clenching together in spite of them having fallen asleep.

The only noise you could make was wet gurgles and glucks that barely resembled actual words. You kept your head tipped back so he could watch your eyes fill with tears you could hardly see through. You didn’t need to see to know how gorgeous he looked, though.

Standing over your kneeling form as you gazed up at the soft planes of his torso and tattooed pecs; the barely-there pudge of his belly dusted with his happy trail that grew thicker and darker the further down it traveled; his chest that heaved in time with the persistent rock of his hips.

“Poor baby,” he tutted from overhead. “Can’t say anything with your mouth so full of my cock, huh? Can’t even tell me how much you like it?”

Sympathetic as his words were, his voice was anything but. There was a mocking edge to his tone and a glint in his dark eyes that was almost mean as he stared down at you. He gripped the side of your head, his strong fingers curling around the back of your neck to hold you in place as you received the brunt force of his thrusts. Every stroke was steady and even, his pace never wavering. You sucked in a big breath through your nose and swallowed in response to his question, drawing him deeper into the embrace of your throat and whining softly around him.

“You don’t have to tell me, sweetheart—I know you love this cock. That’s why you let me do this, right? ‘Cos you love it so much?”

You swallowed again, his tip inching down your throat with the motion. It made his brow pinch—just for a second—and his lips part in a breathy gasp he scrambled to hide. But he was too slow, and he felt the hum of pleasure you let out that threatened to unravel him completely.

Those fleeting seconds were the ones you lived for—the briefest flashes of your sweet, soft boy showing through the cracks in his facade when his domineering mask slipped ever so slightly.

As much as you liked this guy, that one was the one you loved. The only one you’d let do this.

“You know my favorite thing about this?” he asked, his grip tightening as his pace started to pick up, his domineering tone getting even lower and more leading, thick and dripping lewdly.

Trying to regain his upper hand.

As if he could ever lose it with you.

Your head shook as best it could with him buried in the back of your throat, and Eddie’s mouth split wide in a crooked smile, almost laughing as he continued in a deep burr.

“It’s that you can’t even argue with me when I tell you how well you’re doing.”

His words washed over you like an unrelenting wave of arousal. Your eyes bulged wide in your skull and you felt your spine go slack with the shivers that rippled down your back. Your head practically hung limp, only making it easier for Eddie to thrust freely until you were gagging.

The pool of spit that had collected in your mouth spilled past your lips and dribbled down your chin, your tongue sliding out of your mouth to lay flat as Eddie’s cock glided over it unforgivingly.

He was at full speed now, barely pulling his cock back before it was ramming back into your soft palate. The wiry hairs at his base tickled your nose and cheeks with each pass and you literally felt yourself sinking beneath his influence, turning liquid and pliant, almost soupy with lust.

“That’s right, baby,” he went on, “you can’t do anything but sit there and take it…”

The tears that had begun to well in your eyes flowed freely now. You blinked rapidly, squishing your lids together trying to clear your blurred vision, the mascara clinging to your lashes likely leaving behind those mottled black trails Eddie loved to see running down your cheeks.

Your chest burned, seizing in anticipation.

Eddie knew this about you, knew how your need for praise and approval was constantly at odds with your inability to accept it. You and he had talked at length about how you loved the rush of having someone compliment you, but it was consistently followed by an equal and opposite   rush of shame. Feeling like you must have tricked or fooled them somehow into saying it.

His grin was triumphant when enough tears had trickled down your cheeks for you to see his face clearly, his plush lips spread wide in a wicked grin.

Eddie was so quick to compliment you, to ply you with talk that was as exalting as it was filthy. 

He was your biggest cheerleader—determined not to let you think for a second you were anything less than the talented, intelligent, kind, complex, hilarious, fucking ravishing creature he saw when he looked at you. But it was difficult, particularly in this area, for you to take his words to heart. To not immediately think he was just getting swept up in the moment, that he didn’t mean any of it. That he was just playing the part, saying his lines as scripted.

“Jesus, you’re so good at this,” he groaned. “I’d fuckin’ live in this throat if I could. You take it so… fucking…well…”

The last few words he punctuated with a punch of his hips. Your throat spasmed with it and your gag reflex made you sputter around his length, drool now running in rivulets down your chin.

“Goddamnit, I love you so much,” he gritted out, his voice cracking slightly as his mask started to slip again the closer he got. “Can’t believe I get to do this, can’t believe you let me—”

It’s the reverence in his tone that gets to you every time. You’d had men tell you before how they couldn’t believe you ‘let them do this’ and it always sounded so incredulous. Like it was dirty and disgusting, and like they were getting away with something. Not at all how Eddie says it.

He says it like it’s a gift. Like it’s the only thing he has ever wanted, and you’re the one offering him his dream come true. Like he isn’t convinced it’s real, or that it’s not something he’s dreaming.

“Oh, you’re fucking everything, you know that?” he asked, looking down at you with his own wet, glossy eyes, “you deserve everything, m’gonna give you everything…”

Your thighs clench again and you can feel your own arousal as it squishes in between your legs, your clit and cunt pulsating in time with the rapid beating of your heart. The tingling in your limbs has spread all over your body, distinctly more pleasurable than the pins and needles.

If you were ever going to cum untouched, it would be from this. No doubt about it.

Blinking through the last of your tears, you stare at Eddie raptly. He’s fucking gorgeous like this, all his muscles pulled taught, tensed and flexing and so close to snapping. His eyes are pinched shut, not quite closed like he doesn’t want to stop looking at you for even a second.

“F-fuck me, m’so close, baby. M’so fucking close, I’m gonna—ahh!”

His voice cracks along with his mask, his domineering tone crumbling into a needy and plaintive moan. With one final thrust, he pulls out of you and wraps his fist around his cock that’s soaked in your spit. You gasp, taking the first full breath you’ve had in ages and stick your tongue out, flattening it against your chin and tipping your head back as far as it will go.

It doesn’t take but a few quick strokes for his warm, salty spend to splatter across your tongue. His expression is almost pained until he sees the look of relief that washes over your face.

Only then does he permit himself to feel the full sensation, to revel in your mutual pleasure.

He drops to his knees, practically collapsing, and throws his arms around your shoulders to pull you into him. His chest heaving against yours while he comes down, he buries his face in your neck and clutches at the back of your head to hold you to him as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispers, words tumbling out of him, “I love you so much.”

You swallow thickly, his cum still warm on your throat as it slides down it. Your head turns to kiss the side of his face and whisper in his ear, voice coming out hoarse but no less adoring.

“I love you too,” you mewl, more tears welling behind your eyes. “Thank you.”

All my love for indulging me — love you, mean it! 📸

Why is this so hot??? 🥵

AN ANGEL d.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 4.5K

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - You're nervous to lose your virginity, Dean shows you everything that you've been missing out on.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, dom!dean, sub!reader, nervous/shy!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, p!v, teasing, loss of virginity, fingering, hickeys (r.recieving), size kink, praise kink, dean is experienced, reader is inexperienced, (1) thigh slap, big dick!dean, boob fondling, boob sucking, reader is smaller than dean, illusions to past masturbation, reader blushes, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

dean liked having you sat in his lap.

this wasn't the first time, your legs stretched around his waist while your hands scrunched idly at the black shirt he'd been wearing, your lips against his own. making out with you had to be possibly the best thing he'd ever done. it was like getting sent to heaven and back, between each breath he damned the gods that disallowed him to press his lips against yours for forever.

but you were new to all this.

he had to be gentle.

dean was the first real relationship you'd ever had. and if he was being honest, you were sort of the first real relationship he'd ever had too.

he used to hop from girl to girl, bed to bed and not think twice about it. you were the absolute opposite. you were the type of girl that didn't speak unless spoken to, you kept your head down and got through everything without so much as letting your imagination wander with what it would feel like to be with a man.

then you met him.

his hands were pinching at the fat of your thighs, he found it hard to keep his hands to himself when you were like this. between kisses, he could hear the shakiness in your breaths, it drove him unbelievably mad.

you felt almost sorry for dean, knowing it'd taken this long to get comfortable enough to even make out with the man. you knew his history and how he wouldn't go longer than a week without someone in his bed. now he'd went more than three months with you like this, aching for more.

and it wasn't like you didn't want more, believe me, you'd been aching just as horribly.

you were just... scared?

deans hands moved harshly against your skin, right hand coming down to gently slap your thigh before gripping it once again. the feeling prompted a low whimper to leave your lips.

dean almost groaned. he could get used to hearing noises like those.

when the man pulled away from your lips, heavy breaths still leaving his own, you swore you could have whimpered again just from the loss of contact.

he looked down at you, eyes all blown wide, lips slick and swollen, it was a sight he hoped was never erased from his memory. he wanted to remember this forever. "y'so needy." he had that cocky grin on his lips, cocking his head to the side as he viewed you as a whole, all his, right in his lap for the taking.

you felt your cheeks get hot at the sentence, eyes immediately darting anywhere other than his face. "don' be mean." was the mumble you let out, eyes adverting and voice lowering. you weren't able to talk to him, not when he got like this, all 'bigger' than you, it made you feel small, it made you feel wet.

"'m not, 'm not." he spoke with a low chuckle, one of his hands raising to meet your face, you felt the padding of his thumb wipe across your hot cheeks, he could tell you were nervous. then again, you were always so nervous. "i think it's cute."

again, your face got increasingly hotter but dean didn't leave you any room for words, dipping his head so his lips could meet your neck.

there was something so surreal about being like this, your hands gripping at his shirt, top lip clamped down on your bottom as he kissed against the skin of your neck.

again, this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. makeouts and hickey-leaving was getting more and more natural in your relationship, common, even.

he'd come home from his hunts with sam and all he'd want was you either below or on top of him, his lips against anything they could reach.

you felt his lips part, sucking against your neck as one hand ran up your back, the other cupping the back of your hair. once he sucked, his tongue would smooth over the skin, pleasure to ease the pain. and he'd go again, gradually moving to different places on your neck. marking you.

your own lips were strewn shut, you were hoping and praying on every star that you didn't let a noise slip from you. you were too nervous, too embarrassed but the whole point of this was to feel good, wasn't it? so why did you feel so embarrassed to show him how good it felt?

your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling suddenly overwhelming.

you didn't register the move of your hips until his lips left your neck and his hands clamped down on your waist, low grunt leaving his mouth.

you stared at him with those big eyes and he swore he was gone. "y'can't do that, sweetheart." despite his words, his tone was gentle. "can't start something if you don't want to finish it."

he knew how inexperienced you were, he thought you wanted to hold off on losing your virginity which is why he'd never made such a move but by the way you were looking at him now, he swore you wanted nothing more than for him to take you.

and he'd gladly do so upon your command.

"i do..." you uttered. ".. want to." the words made your insides twinge, made your nose scrunch and your lips purse.

you were too nervous, shaking like a leaf on top of him. even so, with so much anxiety bottled into a human, dean made no movements of caution.

you sort of liked that dean wasn't as awkward or nervous as you were. dean was confident, that much was for sure. but being so confident also gave him this openness, seeping comfort into your veins as his large, warm hands trailed up and down your thighs.

"yeah?" his voice was breathy and his smile had left his features. he didn't need to be so teasing now, he knew you would simply burst of shyness. and he didn't want you in a position of uncertainty. "what d'you want?"

he wasn't trying to tease you, though he knew his fingers that began to dance against your skin were doing nothing to calm your nerves.

he just needed to hear you say it.

you planted your face into his chest with an incoherent mumble, cheeks alight as flames.

dean could have laughed at you but he didn't want you thinking you'd done something wrong. on the contrary, he found it downright adorable how shy you'd been getting. but you couldn't help it, this was such an unfamiliar feeling bubbling in your stomach.

"can't hear you, sweetheart." his head came down to sit atop yours, his voice a gentle whisper. "i need you to tell me what you want, okay?" his free hand tipped your chin upwards to look at him, those pretty green eyes held so much sincerity. "use your words f'me, baby."

words felt stuck in your throat, you couldn't seem to get them out. but dean didn't want to let this get away from him, he steadied your chin between his fingers.

"i want..." your voice was all breathy, all needy. it had dean reeling. "i want you to touch me."

and as the words passed your lips, you swear all the air was knocked from your lungs. listening to yourself talk had made your head feel fuzzy. before dean, you couldn't have even imagined such words leaving your lips.

dean was struggling to compose himself but nonetheless, he did. his lips quirked into this proud yet sly smirk as his fingers ran up and down your thighs. "where, angel? here?" he practically mocked, fingers against your knee.

at this point, dean had never seen an angel, he didn't believe in them. but he was sure that if angels did exist, you had to be one of them.

you could have corrected him verbally, told him to stop teasing or even scolded him for mocking you while you were all worked up like this. but instead, you chose to grasp his bigger hand in your own and trail it towards your core.

as your hand cupped his own, he could feel them shake, he almost cooed at you but he didn't want to make you more nervous than you already were.

but when his hand finally reached your clothed core, he couldn't help but let out a groan.

it didn't take longer than a second for dean to have you flipped over with your back against the mattress of the bed. a noise left your lips as he towered over you, that infamous smirk etched to his lips.

but a type of seriousness washed over him. "are you sure you want this?"

you knew he wasn't asking you to tease you or make you wait, he was being sincere and you couldn't have been more sincere back by bucking your hips with a low whine of the word, "yes." quickly followed by a "please."

"so needy." he mumbled back, lips moving to your neck while his fingers fumbled at the cotton material of your baby blue sleep shorts. he hooked his fingers around the waistband and tore it off skilfully.

he supposed his experience was paying off.

you didn't have any time to counter what he'd said, too focused on the feeling building in your stomach. much of it was worry, anxiety even but the majority of it was this foreign, amazing feeling.

"fuck." his ring clad fingers circled against your panties. you were suddenly hyper aware of how worked up you'd gotten while making out with him, a blush creeping in on your face as you turned away from him.

dean all but tutted, dragging your face back.

"don't get shy on me now, sweetheart. This wet for me, the least you can do is look at me." he had that empowering stare that told you he was in charge here, it had you shrinking further into the mattress.

but dean wasn't demanding, sure he was dominating but he didn't make you uncomfortable. truthfully, you'd been rather scared of getting this far with anybody but you were sure that if there was anybody you wanted it to be with, it was him.

his hands toyed at waistbands of your panties. "this okay?" his eyes were glued to your face, trying to watch every way your face contorted, making sure you were okay.

believe it or not, there was a lot one could tell from just looking at someone.

you nodded your head briskly, darkened and bitten lips parted slightly, covered in the slick left behind from your tongue. your cheeks had turned a darkened colour too, blush spreading across your face.

there was something so surreal about looking at you like this, knowing nobody else ever had. he pulled the panties down your legs, watching you steadily with his own lips parting open. his eyes moved from yours to trail down your body, landing on your sopping core. he couldn't help but breathe in a breath.

"you're so pretty, angel." he moved his hand upwards again, closed fingers gently toying with your clit, which earned a soft gasp from you. his lips quirked as he brought his hand away, using the other to slip off his ring. he took your wrist, holding it up gently. "take care of this for me, yeah?" you nodded as he slipped the ring onto your thumb, seeing as your other fingers wouldn't fit it. "good girl." he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

he was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you were a virgin.

now, dean wasn't necessarily put off by the fact that you were a virgin. dean couldn't have cared less what you were. but he needed to make sure he was gentle, more so than any other time.

because he was the first, the one you'd remember forever.

though, he intended to be your very last, too.

his fingers trailed across your pretty tank top, down to your hips and finally edging between your legs. he peppered kisses against your face and down across your jaw, finally landing on your neck, fingers pushing your legs apart with ease.

as shy as you were, you didn't hide from him, you allowed him to part your legs, his hand was against your inner thigh, softly soothing up and down against your skin.

but he had to make sure, before he touched you. "sure this is okay? not having second thoughts?"

of course dean wanted to but he only wanted to if you wanted to. but you nodded anyway, swallowing though your mouth was dry anyway. "'m just nervous." you admitted softly.

it was no secret to dean that you were a nervous creature already. he knew this was all new to you but he didn't want you to feel shy around him. "you don't need to be." he pressed a kiss against the supple of your cheek, hand moving further as you let out a shaky breath. "not with me." as the whisper left his mouth, his hand came up to touch your hot core.

the noise that left your mouth should have embarrassed you but right now, you couldn't think of anything other than the feeling of his hand right where you needed him.

he collected your wetness onto his fingers, spreading it up and down your folds, two fingers parting from the rest as he gently eased them into your hole.

heavy breaths suddenly left you, chest rising and falling while dean's face was practically hidden in your neck, peppering kisses, sucking and licking against the soft skin while his fingers settled inside of you.

he gave you hardly any time to adjust to the feeling, pulling them out and then thrusting them right back into you. "you're so warm, sweetheart." he mumbled in slight awe. suddenly, the image took over his mind, the image of him inside of you. he couldn't seem to wipe it away.

he knew that giving yourself to him even just like this was a lot for you, he didn't want to push you any further than he already had tonight.

however, the image still tainted his memory.

as the speed of his fingers increased, so did the volume of your noises.

a sticky, wet sound bounced from wall to wall, causing your cheeks to warm incredibly further. you flushed, your own hand coming up to cover your mouth, suddenly aware of how loud you'd been.

a coo left his lips, free hand coming to drag your wrist away from your mouth. "wanna hear every noise you can make, angel."

and his words alone made you whimper.

the palm of his hand bounced against your clit with every thrust of his hand, emitting these noises from you that you'd never been able to draw from yourself.

"y'sound so pretty, you know that, baby?" you made a noise to show you were listening, though all it told dean was that you felt good. "look so pretty too. so beautiful. all mine."

dean couldn't keep his hands to himself.

his free hand dragged against your skin, pushing at it as if trying to get closer to you in any way possible.

against his fingers formed a creamy ring. he looked down at his digits sliding in and out of you, wetness surrounding you both, keeping you together by a wet string.

he let his thoughts wander.

as evil as it was, he simply couldn't think of anything else, he imagined it was his dick sliding in and out of your hot, wet hole, the noises you'd make would be so much louder, you'd be so much fuller.

then he was suddenly aware of your experience once again.

you were tight, incredibly tight which only made him scissor his fingers. if you were going to take his dick, he needed to stretch you out first.

"dean!" you spluttered out as he scissored his fingers inside of you. "c-cant."

your hips bucked backwards, as if you were trying to tell yourself to stop, but it felt too good to stop.

and dean knew your body well, more than you knew it apparently for he only tutted, holding your wrist in his free hand. "you can take it baby, there you go." and he must have known what was happening because your insides were turning to mush.

you'd orgasmed by yourself before but this? this was true bliss.

he held your waist down to the mattress as your body squirmed, head falling back into the pillows as his name fell on your lips, moans and whines blissfully leaving your slick lips.

"good girl." he mumbled, pressing kisses anywhere his lips could reach. "you're so good, there you go. atta girl."

his words of praise fell on your lips, only making you squirm impossibly more. but nonetheless, he kept up his pace, fingers moving to help you ride out your high.

dean swore he'd never seen something so beautiful.

he watched in awe, staring at the way your face scrunched up, pretty lips parted and your eyes screwed closed, though he could only imagine you were seeing stars behind your lids, not that he was being cocky or anything.

the sight was pure bliss, angelic, even.

he swore he'd been to heaven and back, just watching your face contort.

and he'd watch it forever, if he could.

he was suddenly aware of how tight his jeans felt.

"i need to fuck you." he was mumbling with a slight neediness in his tone, kissing up and down your throat, his hand only coming to a halt when your own practically pushed it away, the overstimulation becoming too much. "can i?" a beat passed. "please?"

his face rose to meet yours and you stared at him, all blissed out. you swore that his fingers were the most skilled, pleasurable feeling you'd ever felt, much better than to how it felt when you'd done it by yourself. your lips were glossed over, heavy pants leaving your chest. huge eyes and flushed cheeks.

almost a whine of the phrase, "uh-huh." passed your lips.

and it was enough for him.

his lips crashed into your own, kissing you ever so softly, though there was passion hidden somewhere between your heavy breaths.

needy hands pawed at the end of his black shirt, his own hands reached down to cup yours, helping you tear it off of his body. his amulet dangled downwards, just below your face and he was suddenly very aware of the fact that your top was still on. he supposed he'd been too focused on making you feel good to realise.

his hands reached the end of your own top, helping you push it over your head.

no words left his lips but they parted, tongue passing over the bottom one as he stared.

your pink bra was so pretty on you he almost had to think to decide whether or not he wanted to keep it on. but he decided with the latter, hands unhooking your bra skillfully, as if he'd done it a thousand times before.

he hardly got to see your boobs, for his hands cupped them as soon as they were let out of the bra. he cursed out a grunt under his breath, one hand leaving your breast so his mouth could replace it.

against the mattress, your back arched, stomach against his own while you bit back the pretty whimpers which he yearned to hear. his mouth worked against you, rolling his tongue back and forth, practically flicking your nipple in his mouth making you unable to contain the sounds you so desperately tried to keep back.

"d―dean!" you spluttered, eyes fluttering shut. his own eyes looked up at you, watching your face contort once again.

he had to have you.

as his face left your chest, a string of spit connected your boobs to his lips.

he wiped it away, though nothing could wipe away that smut smirk he held. nonetheless, he helped himself to shimmying out of his jeans, taking his boxers off with it.

it wasn't until he took everything off that reality set in. you stared, eyes blown wide, he was, well... big. and it was sort of hard not to get nervous, even with the fact that his fingers had just been stuffed inside of you, you weren't so sure it was going to fit.

"you okay?" he leaned down, towering over you. he realised your eyes hadn't moved from his dick, pulling your chin up with his two fingers. "are you sure you want this?"

you nodded your head, thoughts a mere muddle of clouds. "i just... 'm nervous." you admitted, feeling your stomach fill with this fuzzy feeling that you only got when you talked to dean.

"you don't have to be nervous, sweetheart, not with me, okay?" the palm of his hand rested on your face. "do you want this?"

"yes." you answered without a beat.

"promise?" you could have melted right then and there. dean winchester was of many things but above all, he was gentle.

"promise." you mumbled, finding yourself relaxing just at the mere sound of his voice. his hand trailed up to find your own, fingers interlocking yours. his free hand moved down to his dick, pressing it in his hand.

you watched with curiosity yet also nervousness. you'd never seen this done in real life, so the shyness was creeping in as you watched him move his hand up and down his shaft, dragging it towards your wet hole. instantly, a sound left your lips, blush instantly creeping in as your eyes snapped up to him. he only smiled gently at you, finding your shyness rather adorable.

the head of his dick slowly pushed inside of you and that alone had you feeling awfully stretched. he wasn't just long, he was thick too meaning he stretched you out completely. "okay?" you nodded at the sound of his question, the feeling of his lips on your cheek moments after. "'s gonna hurt a little, alright?"

you nodded your head, eyes shutting closed as you braced yourself.

you weren't an idiot either, you knew first times were supposed to hurt but luckily for you, you had dean right there, holding one of your hands tight in his own, soft whispers and kisses against your skin.

what more could you really ask for.

he slowly eased himself inside of you, worried he was hurting you. then again, there wasn't really any other way to get inside without hurting you. he watched as your face contorted, a gentle whimper leaving your lips but he knew it wasn't one of pleasure, more of pain, actually.

he mumbled gentle apologies and left a trail of them in kisses from your neck to your cheeks.

finally, he was in completely and he couldn't help the string of curses that he mumbled under his breath.

dean stayed as still as he could. worry set in, he didn't want to hurt you, not when you'd been so nervous in the first place. he'd been with many girls but you were a tight fit around him, swallowing his dick whole. he couldn't help but almost coo at the way your hole clenched around him.

he felt your hips shift, and he knew you were ready. "can i―fuck, sweetheart, can i move?"

again, you nodded with a subtle whine that told him in other words, yes, he absolutely could move. and that was exactly what he did.

he slowly pulled his dick out from inside you then suddenly slammed his hips back in, his dick hitting the spot deep inside your walls. instantly, he was met with a mewl.

"shit." he uttered, wanting to draw as many sounds like that out of you as he could. his two hands now rested on yours tightening his grip as he placed them over your head so he could gain better access. "oh, fuck, sweetheart, you're so fucking pretty."

it seemed as though dean had the mouth similar to a sailor when put in a position like this.

but he couldn't help it, you were staring at him with those doe eyes, pretty noises falling from you. his hips moved with ease, slamming in and out of you, it didn't take him long to pick up the pace either.

your legs lifted to surround his waist, moans leaving the two of you as his hips slammed inside of you.

"shit, you're so good for me." he was a mumbling mess, he meant every word of what he said, though he wasn't too sure what was leaving his lips as of now. "oh, my sweet girl, thaaat's it."

he tipped his head forward, connecting his forehead to your own. your whimpers and whines were swallowed by a kiss, gentle yet so full of neediness, it was exactly what you wanted.

"feels..." you mumbled once your lips had parted, though you were sort of dazed, not all the way there. "feels so good."

"good girl, 's it, take it all." you felt his hand suddenly trail down, fingers soft against your clit while his dick still hot between your gummy walls. "'s okay, you're okay."

you shook your head, swallowing thickly as your hips bucked. "'s―'s too much!" you panted out, moans leaving you as if you couldn't keep them inside.

"you can take it, baby, know you can." but he could tell by the way your face twisted again, you were close.

and so was he.

"you gonna let go f'me? huh?"

at this point, your eyes had fluttered shut and you lips were parted as you nodded, brows strewn together. "gonna... 'm gonna cum, dean."

"that's my girl." he answered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "cum all over my dick f'me, sweetheart."

you supposed you were more obedient than you thought.

dean watched as you squirmed and moaned, eyes screwed shut as you finally let go around him. he could feel your gummy walls squeezing him tighter, a ring of slick had formed at the base of his dick. the mere sight, his dick still stuffed inside your cunt and you, cumming all over him.

well, it was enough to have any man weak.

which was why he'd finished so quickly, too.

after all, he'd been holding on since you were sat on his lap.

and that one feeling, cumming in your wet, hot walls and watching you with that pretty, stricken and worn out face as you came on him too... he swore he had really been to heaven and back.

when you both rode out your highs, he laid himself on the bed next to you, watching as you reached your hand up, playing with his silver ring that sat on your thumb.

he swore he was staring at an angel.

main masterlist/dean's masterlist

It’s giving Babygirl

Blorbo

This is so precious and accurate?

Simon being all big and tough and mean and noncommittal…

But if you ride him good enough?

You’ll catch this motherfucker moaning louder than a siren, saying all kinds of whack shit like, “I love you,” “you’re perfect,” “fuck, you’re all I need”

Make him blow his load good enough, and you might even get this wild card.

“Marry me,” he says, still panting on the mattress. Meanwhile, you’ve got semen dripping down your leg, your panties halfway up your thighs. Your hair is a rats’ nest in the back, and you trip over the leg hole of your underwear when you hear what he says.

“What?” You stutter out.

“I want you to marry me,” he states in the calmest, most bored voice you’ve ever heard. Hell, he’s still wiping cum off of his stomach, staring down at his wet hands like it’s just a normal Tuesday.

Simon’s weird. He’s abrasive, inconsistent, and generally not romantic at all.

But when a car’s headlights shine through the blinds…you can see it.

His face, bright pink. Fingers twitching against his naked chest. And it’s then that you realize it.

Holy shit.

Simon is being romantic. Like, actually, genuinely, beautifully romantic.

When you start crying, he complains about having to comfort you. Yet, the water gathering around his lash line says otherwise.

Long story short, you’ve got a nice little ring on your finger by the end of the week…

That, and Simon manages to ask you out to dinner. For the first time ever. Since, y’know, you’re his fianceé now.

(He’s already thinking about what your baby’s name will be.)

I need 💨 🍆. IMMEDIATELY

omggg i need rafe x stoner gf who comes home high nd needy🙂‍↔️

lamy's notes: i hope you like it!!

the door creaks open, and you stumble inside, still wrapped in the hazy warmth of your high. the world feels softer, edges blurred, your skin tingling like it’s alive, aware of every sensation. your laugh is low, quiet, spilling out like a lazy stream as you toe off your sneakers.

“rafe?” your voice is sing-song, a little slurred, dripping with sweetness as you call for him.

he appears from the kitchen, his frame backlit by the soft glow of the under-cabinet lights. arms crossed, his sharp features pull into a knowing smirk the moment he sees you swaying slightly, your eyes heavy-lidded and glassy.

“jesus,” he mutters, but there’s no judgment in his voice, only amusement—and something darker, something that sharpens when he looks at you like this. “how high are you?”

“mmm… like… a lot,” you admit, giggling as you close the distance between you, your fingers reaching for him instinctively. “but, baby… you have no idea how good i feel.”

you’re in his space now, your hands sliding up his chest, your body leaning into his. rafe’s arms come around you almost reflexively, steadying you as you nuzzle into his neck. you’re warm and soft against him, and your scent—a mix of whatever you’d been smoking and the faint sweetness of your perfume—wraps around him, intoxicating in its own way.

“i missed you,” you mumble, your lips brushing his skin with every word. “like… so much.”

“you were gone for, what, two hours?” he teases, though his voice drops, deepening as his hands settle on your hips. you’re swaying slightly, and he keeps you anchored, his thumbs stroking small circles into the fabric of your leggings.

“felt like forever,” you counter, pulling back just enough to look at him. your eyes meet his, and there’s a spark of mischief in your gaze that makes his grip on your hips tighten. “i was just sitting there, thinking about you. about us.”

he quirks an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “yeah? and what were you thinking?”

“you wanna know?” you ask, your voice dropping, playful and suggestive. your fingers toy with the hem of his t-shirt, slipping underneath to brush against his warm skin.

“tell me,” he says, and there’s an edge to his tone now, his patience fraying.

“i was thinking,” you start, dragging your nails lightly up his stomach, “about how good you feel. how good you make me feel.” your lips curve into a slow, lazy smile, your hands wandering higher. “and how much i want you right now.”

he exhales sharply, his hands flexing on your hips as he fights for control. “you’re unbelievable,” he says, his voice low, thick with amusement and want.

“mmm,” you hum, leaning up to kiss him, slow and teasing, your lips brushing his but never quite pressing fully. “please, rafe… i’ve been so good.”

“good, huh?” he asks, his voice dipping lower as he crowds you against the wall, his body pressing into yours. his knee nudges between your thighs, and you gasp softly, the sensation sending a fresh wave of heat through your already buzzing body. “you think you deserve a reward for coming home stoned out of your mind and throwing yourself at me?”

“yes,” you answer without hesitation, your lips brushing his jaw. “please?”

he groans, low and guttural, before capturing your mouth in a kiss that’s anything but teasing. it’s hot, demanding, his hands sliding lower to grip your ass, pulling you tighter against him. you whimper into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, your body arching into his as the room spins pleasantly around you.

“bed,” he mutters against your lips, his voice rough. “now.”

you’re grinning as he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist, your laughter mingling with his groan as he carries you down the hallway.

he lays you down gently, but the weight of his body pressing into yours makes your breath catch. his mouth is everywhere—on your neck, your collarbone, the curve of your shoulder—leaving a trail of heat that has you squirming beneath him. his hands are no less insistent, tugging your shirt up and over your head before palming your breasts through your bra.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, his voice muffled as his lips drag lower, over the swell of your chest, down your stomach. he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down slowly, savoring every inch of skin he reveals.

“rafe,” you breathe, your voice shaky, needy.

“i know, baby,” he says, his eyes dark as they flick up to meet yours. “gonna take care of you. promise.”

his mouth moves lower, and when his tongue flicks over your clit, your back arches off the bed, a soft cry spilling from your lips. he hums against you, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through your body as he works you with a precision that leaves you breathless. his hands grip your thighs, keeping you open for him, his movements relentless as he draws moan after moan from your lips.

when you’re trembling beneath him, teetering on the edge, he pulls back, his lips glistening, his smirk downright sinful. “not yet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

he rises, shedding his shirt, his jeans, until he’s bare before you, all lean muscle and raw intensity. he covers your body with his, his hand sliding between your thighs, his fingers teasing, testing, until you’re writhing against him, desperate for more.

“rafe, please,” you beg, your nails digging into his shoulders.

he doesn’t make you wait. he pushes inside slowly, his forehead dropping to yours as he lets out a guttural groan. the stretch is exquisite, every inch of him filling you, making you gasp. he stills, giving you a moment to adjust, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s surprisingly tender.

“you okay?” he asks, his voice rough, strained.

“yes,” you whisper, your hands tangling in his hair. “please, move.”

he does, starting slow, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one sending a wave of pleasure crashing over you. his name falls from your lips like a prayer, and he answers with your own, his voice low and wrecked as he murmurs how good you feel, how perfect you are.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, his voice tight, breath hitching with every roll of his hips. “you feel so fucking amazing. taking me so well.”

as his pace quickens, the room fills with the sound of your shared breaths, your moans, the soft slap of skin against skin. every nerve in your body is on fire, the intensity building with every thrust until you’re shattering beneath him, crying out his name as you fall apart.

“that’s it,” he growls, his voice thick with need. “let go for me, baby. wanna feel you.”

he follows seconds later, his release a low groan against your neck as he buries himself deep, his body trembling above yours.

for a moment, neither of you move, the only sound your ragged breathing. then he shifts, rolling to the side and pulling you with him, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

“you’re trouble, you know that?” he mutters, his lips pressing to your temple.

“but you love me,” you tease, your voice soft, drowsy.

he chuckles, his hold on you tightening. “yeah,” he says, his voice low, tender. “i really fucking do.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs

The possessiveness of this. 🤤🤤🤤

Alphabet Soup

summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.

pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating. egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🧿

Alphabet Soup - G

G is for all the good, great, god-praising methods Wally weaponizes to distract you from the details outside the arrangement between you and him. Like Janet, for example, and the arrangement Wally has with her. The one he insists isn't more than a mutual (non-physical, non-emotional) ploy to secure their positions as Split River High royalty. It's true, after all, that Wally couldn't give two fucks about her. But their gamble paid off and Wally's riding the gravy train through senior year, so it isn't something he can just end because it makes you grumpy to be a secret.

"C'mon, baby," He says, caging you in, big hands on either side of you on the kitchen counter. You reached for a glass and Wally took advantage while you didn't notice his proximity after demanding he never come near you again. His lips graze your neck, his breath ghosting your skin—a tingle up your spine—and he guides you to face him. "Don't push me away," He implores, featherlight fingers sneaking under the hem of your shirt, "You're the only good thing I have, baby. I need you."

Part of him hates how true that's starting to become. How he can't think of anything else except your laugh, your touch, your scent, your eyes, your lips, your perfect, sweet pussy. Wally's breath catches then stammers out, face so close to yours, a narrow thread between your body and his. His fingers breeze from your hips to the underside of your tits, his gaze holding yours like something precious.

"I'm never letting you go, baby," Brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, flicks his tongue against your bottom lip, "You're mine." And he's greedy as fuck with his things. Selfish. Possessive. Doesn't let anyone within a mile radius of what's his unless he's supervising. He takes your wrist and guides it to the front of his sweatpants, sets your palm firmly on the outline of his hardening cock, "You're the only thing that gets me like this..." His other hand trails down down down, fingertips brushing under the waistband of your sleep shorts as he releases and insists pressure against the back of your hand to grind himself in to.

You're as intoxicated by him as he is you, and Wally knows it. Sees it in how your pupils blow; hears it in how your breath catches; feels it in how fucking wet you are for him from a few delicate strokes of his fingers.

"That's my good girl," He praises, voice chocolatey and low, when you set the glass down and place your hands on his body. "Let daddy show you how good I treat what's mine..." Your whimper is like music to his ears.

Janet's at the nail salon, your mom and stepdad are out for the day, only due back for supper, and Wally was explicitly told to make himself at home while he waited for Janet to return. Something he intends to do with the added bonus of proving how important you've become to him.

Gluttonous, savage, he grabs you under the thighs and carries you to the kitchen table, sets you down only to spin you around and bend you over it. Dropping to his knees, Wally takes your shorts and panties with him before he eats you out from behind, hands groping your ass, tongue-fucking you until your juices dribble down his chin. And, God, there is nothing better than this.

After he fucks you until you're dizzy and spent; after Janet gets home and finds him innocently on the couch (alone) on his phone; after he spends the evening charming your mom and stepdad; after all that, he parks around the corner and texts you:

I miss your taste already, baby. You gonna spread those sexy legs of yours and give me more? xx

Break up with Janet and I'll think about it,,,

He doesn't text you back, doesn't bother since he's at your window in record time, face between your thighs, reminding you exactly what being a brat and getting fussy will get you.

And, shit, Wally smirks against your pussy, was that the game all along?

🧿___________________________

MASTERLIST

also available on AO3!

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Rafe fucking Cameron

₊˚⊹♡ BRATTY DIARIES

a bitchy!kook!reader mini series by rafesangelita ©

ENEMIES TO NSFW TUMBLR MUTUALS??? no one does it better than these two. in an attempt to remain anonymous, both bitchy!kook!reader and rafe decide to make nsfw tumblr blogs as a way to seek balance in both their social, and, sex lives. while rafe wants to reclaim his power, bitchy!kook!reader wants to surrender hers. it isn’t long before these two find each other and decide they are exactly what they’re looking for. all it takes is one follow and a dm in order for them to fall down a whirlwind of endless sexting exchanges. all is going perfect until one night rafe asks for your phone number and realizes your area code matches with his own.. did i mention you two hate each other and can’t stand to be in one another’s presence in real life??

all rights reserved. i do not allow any of my work to be copied, translated, or reposted on any third party site such as wattpad and/or ao3. violating this will result in you being blocked and restricted from my blog, along with a plagiarism submission.

₊˚⊹♡ ONE

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

SUMMARY: not only is rafe cameron your mortal enemy, but he’s also, unknowingly, your nsfw tumblr mutual??

₊˚⊹♡ TWO

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

SUMMARY: when a double date with rafe leads to him feeling a sense of familiarity + you may have revealed your biggest secret yet..

₊˚⊹♡ THREE

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

SUMMARY: what happens when the man you’ve been having anonymous phone sex with asks you to come over to his place so you two could have a date of your own?

₊˚⊹♡ FOUR

WORD COUNT: 3.0k

SUMMARY: rafe accidentally puts barry on speaker..

₊˚⊹♡ FIVE

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

SUMMARY: standing in front of rafe’s door after everything that transpired was the last thing you thought you’d do.. yet here you were. luckily for you, rafe has no intentions of ever letting you leave him again.

getting pounded into the mattress until i’m crying then being babied after would cure me i think

fictional men who get heart eyes the first time they fuck you because it's the best pussy they've ever had