Dominant!reader - Blog Posts

Content warning; groping, reader has a potty mouth, traumatizing Rafe again, typical work day at the trailer, TENSION

A/n; Wolf of Wall Street reference if you squint

Word count; 1.2k

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"Hello again," you didn't have to look up to know it's Rafe again, trying to smother his heavy breathing with face paced steps in your direction.

It's his second time in your house in less than 12 hours, by enabling his poor habits you've been able to pinpoint his unscheduled appointments, usually within a three day period, meaning about 2-3 visits a week.

Money, drugs, transport, whatever Barry had to offer, but same day repeats were a huge no for Barry. Can't keep clientele if they're dead, it's his way of caring, unless they wave a couple bands.

But Rafe was special, you'll tell him no, no problem, and that's what you did. Even if you were actively spooning greens into thin cut rolling paper.

"Wha-, no, I'm not here for that," he huffed, even though he eyed the jar of rolled blunts.

"Why are you all sweaty and out of breath?" His shirt was dampened in the pits, easier to spot with how swamped he was everywhere else, his hair all sticking together, he looked good.

He stopped his movements, shooting you a squinted glare, lifting his hands above his head, resting them in his hair, "where is Barry?"

Where is Barry? If you had a dime every time he said that, you'd own that bar on figure 8, such a nice piece of land at the end of town, underfunded, partially developed, perfect.

Hello," he snapped, waving his hand in your face.

"Yo..." Barry's voice droned through the entrance, he sniffed, kicking aside your bra on the floor, tugging at his cargo pants, looking at the scene before him.

His eyes fell to you, on the couch, your bare legs parted, what visible part of your bottoms tucked just beneath your working hands, the rest disappearing beneath the half tied robe you're sitting in.

" 'Hell is this?" Mainly looking at you because when he left to go fool around in the makeshift shed out back you were reading a magazine that you had found tucked on his side of the bed.

Now it was open to a page of a girl bent over in a very skin tight skirt, looking back and in some stringy stilettos, her legs seemed infinite while her torso was buried beneath your station.

"I need a gun," Rafe interrupted the heated staring contest, watching as you reclined against the couch, kicking one knee up, the end of your robe hiking over your knee exposing your thigh, a sparkling pedicure gracing the cluttered table.

Barry's pupils voided solid for a second, his eyes flickering over to the kid. You really were distracting him.

But Barry obliged with the request, silently heading towards the bedroom, you giggled at the sound of his flipflops after him.

Rafe stayed in the living room, staring down at you. He's so tense, you wonder if maybe you can help with it.

More so leaning forward to roll a blunt, bringing the packed paper to your lips, looking through your lashes up at Rafe while keeping your head down, breathing on it gently, the tail of your tongue prodding through your lips, flicking at your project.

Delicate kitten licks, hardly even grazing the surface as you extended your foot to where he was standing, with the tips of your toes dragging them down against the fabric of his pants.

Barry came back in the room, holding a western revolver, jamming the loaded chamber back into place, holding it out for Rafe.

"Oh?" You hum, leaning forward, Rafe has more business to take care of than any responsible adult you know, which isn't many.

"You boys and your business," watching the quick exchange, seeing Barry also had a gun tucked in the waistband of his pants.

"Speaking of, what's all this?" the weed, the robe, looks like you in charge of this operation, that wasn't entirely untrue. "Restocking inventory."

"In a robe?" While you had a guest you were still in the comfort of your home, so if you decided to lounge around half dressed so be it. "I mean, I can always take it off," you shrugged, flipping the end up over your lap.

His hand swept over yours, pressing your hands firm in place in objection "you good."

Rafe watched in irritation as you two interacted, seemingly ignoring the urgency of his statement, glaring heavily at you.

It was you, not Barry.

You were a distraction, to him and Barry.

His glare had lessened when he felt the scrap of your nails against his thigh, followed by a heavier presence between his legs, bringing him back to present.

"Little boys shouldn't play with guns," your tone casual, but low, seductive almost. "But if you're all grown up," followed by a nice squeeze, squishing his balls against your palm, your lips curved into a sunken smile, you were enjoying this, "we won't have a problem...will we?"

A quick silence fell over the room, and then the faint whimper from Rafe, his knees bending as he was following the pull of your hands with his hips, he let out a strangled hum of acknowledgment and a haste nod making you smooth over your thumb over where you had been viciously tugging on him.

You kept him in your grasp for extra measure turning your predatory attention now on to Barry, first noticing his bottom lip tugged under his teeth.

You didn't have to look to know that turned him on, he kinda likes being told what to do, especially when you know what you want and how you want it.

"As for you," with your free hand you undid your robe, shrugging it back off your shoulder, showing the thin strapped tank you were wearing, fully giving away the curve of your breasts, "I'll remind you, they don't have this where you're going."

Something you liked to remind him of, if not daily, and it works every time.

Especially like now, when you've displayed your dominance even cornered by these two men, one in the palm of your hand and the other just as easily caving with the promise of your company.

He watched you cross your legs, pushing all other distractions aside as you drew attention to your unshielded figure. Even caught Rafe peeking, subtly.

"Fuck..." Your boyfriend muttered to himself, his eyes not at all leaving you.

Once you were satisfied with their response you let Rafe go, allowing him to stand still and process what had just taken place while you tucked a j in Barry's pants pocket, for good luck, you mouthed, intentionally squishing your breasts together as you did so.

It was enough to inspire good behavior.

Rafe elbowed Barry, nodding towards the door, hoping to escort him out of there before the plan got forgotten altogether.

The two damn near rushed out the door, Rafe following behind to make sure Barry made it, watching his disappear out front.

"Rafe," you called out, watching him slow to a stop, his head turned over his shoulder.

"You got a nice pair, keep it that way." He scoffed, flipping the end of his shirt up to tuck the gun in his waistband, resting it against his back as he walked out.