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hellomynameisells · 1 month

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strawberry

Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader

summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.

He’s fucked you plenty of times before.

But never like this. No, never, ever like this.

He’s relentless.

His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.

It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.

Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.

No, he was pushing you past your limits.

Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.

“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”

“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”

Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.

“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”

You had been so certain that you could.

Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”

Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.

You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.

His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.

You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.

Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.

“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”

His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.

The man you belonged to, the man you loved.

Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—

“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”

Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“But Daddy, I just can’t—”

You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.

And you really, really can’t.

He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”

“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”

“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”

It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”

Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.

“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”

“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”

Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.

“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”

“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”

In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.

“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”

“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”

“For using the safe word—”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”

Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”

“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”

“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”

You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”

“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”

“Really? You promise?”

Joel holds up his pinky.

“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.

“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”

You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”

“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”

“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”

You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”

Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.

You trace his collarbone with your index finger.

“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”

“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”

“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”

He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”

You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”

There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.

Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”

The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.

My good girl.

My perfect girl.

I’m s’proud of you.

I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.

After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.

“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”

You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”

“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”

“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”

Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.

He knows that. Of course he knows that.

It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.

You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.

“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.

“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”

“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”

You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.

“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.

“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.

“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”

You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.

“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.

Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”

You stop him and point to the empty bowl.

“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”

He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.

“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.

“Too late.”

divider credit to @saradika 🍓

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hellomynameisells · 1 month

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this is so perfect

distract me | joel miller x reader drabble

It was the same dream you had been having for months. And though you knew what was coming, it never dulled the pain you felt when you saw a limp, lifeless Joel laying before you. You could never find the strength to tear your gaze from the horrible, brutal violence. Blood and bullets and spores and Joel. You sobbed and screamed, reliving the thought that he had died until real-life Joel pulls you up and out of your anguish.

“Shh shh shh,” He whispered while rubbing soft circles into your back, anchoring you back to him and the warm bed. When your eyes finally snapped open, you wanted to feel relieved, but it was just another reminder that every day in this world might be a day closer to a very possible, very real nightmare.

“Hey,” He breathed into your hair, “I’ve got you, darlin’, I’m here.”

Keep reading

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hellomynameisells · 1 month

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You’re My Home

WC: 190

Type: Fluff, Imagine,

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader

The radio hums softly; the old tune comforting, despite you not having heard it before.

You sway slowly, nestling yourself against Marc’s chest as you both move in sync to the music. His calloused, warm hands are wrapped around your waist, while your arms are draped around his neck.

Nothing about right now is rushed. It’s patient. It’s romantic in every aspect of the word.

It’s lovely, this small moment. You breathe in his essence, faint pine and cinnamon. You lift yourself up on your tip toes to drag your nose along his jaw, savoring him. You leave a tentative kiss there, purposefully letting your lips linger for a second longer than needed.

A small huff leaves his lungs as he pulls you in closer. You barely make out the way his lips quirk upwards in a smirk before he’s smothering you in his arms.

“I missed you,” Marc sighs tiredly, speaking his mind for once. You let your head rest against his chest once more.

And you allow yourself to smile for the first time in weeks.

You truly missed this. The intimacy. The closeness.

”I missed you, too.”

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hellomynameisells · 1 month

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Cry (MK Spring Bingo #1)

Marc Spector x Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: panic/anxiety attacks, possibly inaccurate description of an emergency room visit (i don't remember the exact process i borrowed from my own experience bc i was sick… in the ER…), no use of y/n

wc: 1,356

fic summary: Three times Marc told you it was okay to cry, and one time you returned the favor.

A/N: Finally got around to writing something for someone besides jake lockley, bless. once again this is self-indulgent, but if anything hits home for you i'm glad <3 (based on Adam Melchor's "Cry" , which is the most marc-coded piece of music i've ever heard. in this essay i will)

_____________________

The first time came out of nowhere.

Nothing was wrong per se; no major injury or crisis had come up. All you knew was that you were frozen in the corner of your room, hot tears streaming down your face as your mind raced between a million different things.

“Sweetheart, have you seen my–” Marc’s request stopped the moment he saw you frozen in the darkened room, gripping the sleeves of your shirt as you bit your lip so hard you risked giving yourself another reason to cry.

“I just need a minute,” your voice came out trembling and heavy, as if too many syllables would cause the tears to fall with greater force. Not that you knew how to stop them, or how they even started.

Quick strides across the room brought Marc to your side. His warm hands wrapped around yours, cold and losing color from digging into your arms.

Words were never his strong suit; Marc’s a man of few, usually letting his presence and actions suffice. So when faced with consoling you against some invisible threat, he could almost hear the sound of his own heart breaking in tandem with your staggered breath.

So he stood there. Until your fingers relaxed and entwined with his, he stood there until he could guide you to the floor. Arms wrapped around your shoulders, he cradled you as you continued to cry.

“This is so stupid,” you groaned as you wiped your face with your sleeve. “So fucking… ugh.”

“Hey,” he shushed you. “Not stupid. You’re feeling what you’re feeling.”

“But I don’t know why,” you choked out. It was hard enough being so distraught; not having a valid reason for it made everything hurt more.

“You don't have to justify it. Don't have to do anything but just… be here.” A hand to your temple eased your head against his chest. “I'm here, as long as you need me to be.”

This was all the permission you needed to let another rush of tears spill down your cheeks, soaking his shirt. He didn't mind.

___________________

The second time was in the emergency room.

You'd never struggled to catch your breath like this before; a common cold turned south and triggered long-dormant childhood asthma, making your lungs betray the rest of your body. Marc drove you to the ER when your hollow coughing didn't let up for the third day in a row. Head spinning and chest aflame, you were rushed to the back as soon as Marc told them you couldn't breathe.

“You've got to breathe steady, honey.”

“I'm trying,” you muttered around the medicated tube in your mouth. It had to be almost 3 in the morning; your body ached like crazy and you didn't catch a word of what the nurse told you to do with your medication. All you knew was that you were cold, exhausted, and grateful to have Marc there to time your breathing.

But even with his hand holding yours, you still felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Every inhalation brought medicine to your airways, but the ragged sensation resonated through your chest and made your body ache more.

“I'm so tired,” you finally said around the device. With that, your tears fell faster than you could swipe at them. Your frown pushed the device from your mouth, but you didn't care.

Marc sprang up, catching the equipment when your grip faltered. He said nothing; instead, he climbed onto the bed with you, leaning your back against his chest and taking your hand in his once more, bringing the medication back to your lips. You let him bear your weight, immediate relief washing over you as he took over keeping the device steady with one hand and gently dabbing a tissue at your cheek with the other.

“Nothing wrong with a few tears, honey. Means you’re alive.”

When you finally went home, the fire in your lungs extinguished, he held you again until you fell asleep.

_____________________

“.....The movie just started.”

(The third time was on the living room couch.)

You had finally talked Marc into watching La La Land with you (with the promise of his getting to choose the next movie night film, of course). You were barely 30 seconds into the opening number when you'd started crying, eyes glued to the screen as dozens of up-and-comers danced and sang about their dreams to make it in the industry.

“They haven't said anything.”

“They're saying everything.”

“He's dancing on a car.”

“Because he's excited!”

“Why did they stop traffic to dance?”

You didn't hear the rest of his quips, too engrossed in the scene. The colors, the music, and the highly impractical interstate choreography had a way of getting to you ever since you first saw this movie. Meanwhile, Marc sat with his arms crossed and eyebrows knit together as he tried to follow along.

When you noticed his body language, you reached for the remote and paused the movie. “Do you… want to watch something else?”

Marc's face fell when he realized this new batch of tears wasn’t because of the movie, but because of him. The thought of making your cry hit like a punch to the gut.

He took the remote from you, moving closer to your side. “Nice try, but you're not getting out of it that easily. I need your commentary if I'm gonna keep up.” He hit play and choked down every criticism as he saw your face light up, tears of joy brimming during the remaining 2 hours of the film.

The next morning, while making breakfast, you could have sworn you heard Marc humming Another Day of Sun under his breath.

_____________________

As you'd grown closer, you began to know Marc as your rock, your steady landing place when you had thoughts and feelings too big to deal with on your own. He never had to say much to be there for you. He kept you tethered and together, happy to be of service no matter how ugly your hardships felt.

It was only a matter of time before you saw a crack in his foundation.

You got home late one night, a thunderstorm hot on your heels. You had shrugged off your coat and shoes, calling out to Marc to see if he was home. No response.

You checked each room diligently, until you found him sitting on the corner of the bed.

“Marc?” You asked softly, walking toward him. You knelt in front of him, and the sight of his face twisted into an unfamiliar expression, a steady stream of tears spilling from his reddened eyes, was more than you could bear.

The first time came out of nowhere.

“Can you give me your hands, Marc?” He complied, his breath short and his eyes fixed on the storm pelting the window with sheet after sheet of rain. His vision darted between drops of water and streaks of lightning. The room shook with the echoes of thunder as the worst of the storm hit.

“Hey,” you urged him. “Just be here. With me.” Your thumb traced his wrist as you tried to stay calm. “Can you breathe with me, Marc?” You sat up on your knees. He nodded, slowly but surely matching the pace of your breath.

You didn't know what was on his mind, only that it was racing. You couldn't tell what had him so worked up, only that his breath escaped him even as you counted to ten again, and again, unrelenting in your focus on him. You had no idea what made your rock, your anchor, cry like this.

Maybe he'd tell you later; maybe it'd remain a mystery. None of that mattered in the moment. All that mattered was the rhythm of your breath as the rain let up; the way his tears drenched your sleeves when you dabbed at his flushed cheeks; the steady thrum of his heart as his body relaxed beside yours. All that mattered was how, with your chest pressed to his back as you lay on top of the bedspread, he let you hold him for a change.

_____________________

event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added/taken off this wee tag list)

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hellomynameisells · 1 month

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Salt & Pepper

Moon Knight System x GN!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: rated T for teasing, domestic fluff, author does not condone touching people's hair without permission, no use of Y/N

wc: 1,078

fic summary: Marc, are you familiar with the term "silver fox"?

A/N: i might have a problem lol

_____________________

“Put. It. Down.”

Marc Spector does not startle easily. So when he nearly falls from his perch beside the bathtub, you’re surprised you have to steady him.

“Jesus, where’s the fire?” Marc picks up the towel and small cardboard box he’d dropped because of your outburst.

Shifting your focus, you zero in on the latter: hair dye, just as you’d suspected.

“So this is what you get up to when I’m away?” You tut, cradling his temples and shaking your head. "What happened to you?"

"What? Nothing, I'm-"

"-I wasn't talking to you," you sigh, resting your forehead against the crown of his head. "How long has he been treating you like this, you poor things?"

“Ha-ha.”

You release his face to study it. "But seriously, how long have you been dying your hair?”

“... For a couple of years. Started to turn gray from stress a while back, and I guess it never stopped.” He fidgets with the loose edge of the container.. “You really never noticed?”

You take the box and set it beside him. “You hid it well.”

You’re not judging him for dying his hair, it’s just… surprising. Marc’s never been one to fuss over his appearance, as far as you could tell. When you first saw his closet, you’d half expected it to be lined with the same outfit ten times, like in a cartoon. Most days, “dressing up” means adding a jacket or blazer.

“Since when do you care? About your hair, I mean.”

He shrugs. “I’m not gettin’ any younger, honey.”

“Neither am I.” You kiss the bridge of his nose. “You got a problem with that?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. Goes double for me, don’t you forget it.” Leaning in, Marc tries for another kiss, but you duck and grab the hair dye before turning away with a mischievous smirk.

“Gotta keep you honest,” you wink and dart out of the room before he can catch you.

_____________________

"Love?"

"Hm?"

"Might fall out if you keep playing with it like that.”

You’d been standing behind Steven for the past couple of minutes, meaning to check in on his preparations for his morning tour but had gotten distracted. Very distracted.

“Sorry,” you sigh, your fingers leaving the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck and trailing down to his shoulder. “It’s just… hm.”

Your conversation with Marc must have taken root: over the past few weeks, you’ve noticed the hair that had been dangerously close to another round of boxed dye abuse steadily turning lighter. A subtle blend of silver strands mix with the darker curls that frame his face, making his hair shine a bit brighter in the light of the desk lamp.

“It’s like starlight,” you finally state, leaning in to rest your head against his.

Steven sputters and puts his book aside. “Starli- that’s a bit much, yeah?” His brow furrows, but there’s no denying the smile tugging at his lips.

“Not if it’s true,” you contend. You adjust the reading glasses that had slid down his face and tuck a stray curl behind his ear. “It’s a good look on you.”

There’s no denying the heat rising to his cheeks when you talk. “This– you don’t–” Steven caves and sets his book down, hopelessly flustered. “Either go away or get over here. Cheeky.”

He makes room for you to settle into his lap, which you giddily accept. Your hands sink back into his curls and he shivers as you scratch his scalp.

“Did I ever tell you I had a thing for my professor, once upon a time?”

“Oh my days–”

You’re not sure who kisses who, but you’re certainly not complaining. Neither is he.

_____________________

The time apart has been agony.

You check your phone for the fifth time this evening. They’ve been gone for what feels like months (it’s been weeks) handling some business in California, of all places. Marc said he’d call when they were on their way home, meaning no news is sad news.

You’re pulled from your pity party by a knock on the door. It’s late, and you’ve already signed for your dinner delivery. Slowly, you get up and grab the bat you keep by the entrance (with a sock slipped over the end per Jake’s advice).

The knocking continues, getting more urgent. You take a deep breath and look through the peephole. A large brown eye stares back and you yelp, dropping your bat. The unmistakable boom of Jake’s belly laughter mocks you from behind the door.

“You’re hilarious,” you groan, standing the bat back on its head and unlocking the door.

You’re ready to lay into him when you open the door, but you’re stunned into silence. Jake’s smile is highlighted by silvery stubble, dusted with black. He adjusts his cap as his dark eyebrows raise in mock surprise.

“What, no hello?”

You tear your eyes away from his jaw. “Hm? Oh. Hi.” You open the door wider for him to step in. “Marc said you’d call first.”

“No fun in that, is there? Besides, you looked ready to handle some trouble.” he shrugs off his coat as you lock the door behind him.

“Trouble, yes. Nuisance, debatable.” You sidle up to him and drape your arms around his waist. You place a kiss on his cheek; it’d be impossible for him to not notice how you let yours drag along the rough line of his jaw.

“I missed you too,” he laughs again. “But man, is it warm in here…”

He tosses his cap and it takes everything in him to not lose it when your eyes widen at the sight of his hair, now more gray than black and curls longer than you’ve seen them before. You’re too enraptured to be embarrassed at your obvious loss for words.

“Your hair…” You reach up to touch it, but Jake grabs your wrist.

“Tsk, tsk, you threaten and barely say a word to me, then go straight for the goods without so much as a ‘please’? What happened to decorum, hm?”

“You fucking tease,” you huff. “...please?”

“Well, since you asked nicely–” Jake can barely finish his thought before your lips are on his, your hand tangled in his starlit hair as soon as he lets go.

“I take it we should cancel Marc’s haircut?” he murmurs as you catch your breath.

Your free hand grazes the scruff on his cheek and you grin. “I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

_____________________

A/N: marvel you cowards give us gray-haired moon knight

ty for reading <3

event tags:@moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro @queerponcho (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

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hellomynameisells · 1 month

Text

LOST & FOUND || Joel Miller x f!reader || 3,8k

pt 2 of Perfect Strangers || can be read alone

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, a bit of angst, infidelity, unspecified age gap, unprotected piv(wrap it up), f!oral, soft!joel, cum eating, swearing, Joel can pick up reader, reader wears a dress

Summary: you meet Joel by accident at a party and fall for the charm of the handsome stranger again.

A/n: thank you to @noceurous for the ask and motivation to continue the story. Hugs and kisses to @missannwinchester and @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and editing🌸 Hope y’all enjoy!💖

Part 1 || Masterlist

*****

It was a sunny spring day but you were sad and angry . Not only did you have to spend this Saturday with your boyfriend’s colleagues at his boss's birthday party but you also had to wait for him there because he was stuck in a traffic jam. You’d have rather waited in the car but he said it wasn’t polite to be late and asked you to explain the situation.

You did and now you had to endure the torture of small talk with people you hardly knew, only meeting them twice a year at their work parties.

You were standing on the patio with Karen or Carol listening to her yap about one of her kids.

You were about to die of boredom when you felt someone’s eyes on you. You looked back, searching through the crowd of guests in the backyard. The people were chatting quietly, drinking and waiting for the celebration to start when your gaze stopped at a man facing away from you. You saw a broad back clad in a white shirt and a head full of dark curly hair. His hands were shoved in the pockets of black pants and he was talking to someone you didn’t know.

Your eyes must be deceiving you, was your first thought. It couldn’t be him! But when the man turned his head slightly to the left to greet another person joining them, your heart burst with excitement, fear, joy, your stomach jumped, fell and swirled around and you felt like you were going to either faint or puke all over the nice lawn.

It was him, no doubt, the stranger who had fucked you on Valentine’s Day in a dark alley by the restaurant while his wife and your boyfriend were waiting for you two inside.

Although you couldn’t call him a stranger anymore. After making you come on his tongue and his cock, he had left you a card with his name and a phone number. The name, Joel Miller, had been swirling in your mind all those couple of months, and you had read his phone number so many times that it was imprinted in your memory.

You had never called him though, scared of pursuing a relationship with a married man and being afraid to break up with your boyfriend who was a nice guy with good husband potential.

The only time you let yourself see Joel was in your dreams and your fantasies- when your vibrator was pressed tightly to your clit or when your boyfriend was fucking you. At first you felt bad for imagining another man but Joel’s face behind your eyelids and the memory of his cock sliding in and out your tight channel made your orgasms so much harder that you’d given up and let yourself have at least that.

You were watching Joel from across the backyard and couldn’t help but feel his hands on your body. His hair was shining under the bright afternoon sun, and you wished you could run your fingers through it.

Suddenly he turned in your direction and in panic you quickly swirled around, excused yourself and rushed to the open back door. You almost ran through the kitchen and to the bathroom. You needed to be alone with your thoughts and to decide what you were going to do. The possibility of sitting at the same table with your boyfriend, Joel and his wife made your heart freeze with fear.

As soon as you locked the bathroom door, you hurried to the sink ready to puke your guts out. Trying to calm your nerves, you took a deep breath and your scared face with wide eyes and trembling lips told you that there was only one option - you needed to leave. As soon as possible.

You took out your phone and were about to text your boyfriend that you had the worst period pains, (period talk always made him uncomfortable for some weird reason), when you heard a quiet knock on the door.

“Occupied,” you said loudly and began writing the message.

There was another knock and your breath hitched. Your trembling legs slowly carried you to the door and you unlocked it with shaky hands before taking a step back.

The door slowly opened revealing Joel standing in the hall.

He smiled at you, looked around and quickly entered the bathroom. Then he locked the door and turned to you.

The room that was spacious just a second ago, now felt small and suffocating. You were hardly breathing.

“Hey,” Joel said, his gaze sliding up and down your body. “Didn’t believe it was you first. But it’s you.”

His eyes were warm but the longer you stared into them the more heat you felt in his darkening irises. Your dress suddenly felt too short, the neckline too revealing.

You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Was nice seeing you again…I need to go.”

You took a step towards the door trying to squeeze past him when he stretched out his arm stopping you.

“Hey!” You exclaimed furrowing your brows at the man.

“Let’s talk. Give me five minutes,” he asked softly, with a trace of plea in his voice.

You needed to leave but his scent, his presence, the memory of him touching you made you pause and breathe out a quiet “okey.”

He was too close to you, the warmth of his body heating up your skin, so you returned to the sink and leaned against the counter.

He gave you a wide charming smile and was about to come up to you but stopped in his tracks.

His face fell a little when he asked,

“Why didn’t you call?”

You heart sank when you heard the question that you had asked yourself many times since that night in February.

Averting your eyes from him you mumbled,

“You’re married.”

The sadness in your voice was evident so he took a step closer. And then another one.

You felt his big warm hand on your naked shoulder and looked up into his sad puppy eyes quickly getting lost in them. You felt tingling between your legs and scolded yourself inwardly for being so weak.

“Are you here with your boyfriend?” he asked, gliding his hand down your arm, from your shoulder to your elbow. Your skin erupted in goosebumps and you moved away a little and hugged your middle.

“Not yet… he’s late,” you replied, your gaze downcast, and added in a seemingly nonchalant tone, “is your wife here?”

“Will it turn you on if I say ‘yes’?”

Your stomach made a flip and you swallowed loudly. His words hit you right in the pussy. A light tingling turned into a scorching fire. The sensations, phrases, feelings of that night rushed to you with a new force.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice serious. He wasn’t pleading anymore, he was telling you what to do. Commanding you.

‘How dare he?’ you thought and glared at the man.

“What do you want, Joel?"

To your surprise he gave you a little smile.

"Love hearing my name out of this pretty mouth." He leaned closer and brought his hand to your face. His thumb brushed against your lower lip and your pussy fluttered. “I wonder what else you can do with it.”

The ache for him was getting unbearable and you tried to leave but he stepped in front of you not letting you through.

“I’m sorry. I won’t touch you again.” He said, hands raised, his gentle voice returning. You felt sadness when you heard his words.

“Unless you want me to…,” he added and you both smiled. The tension between you was dissolving and you perched your ass back on the counter.

“My wife’s not here, but …fuck,” his hands fell at the sides and he was clenching and unclenching his fists. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You were staring at him with wide eyes, not saying anything, afraid to hear what he wanted to say but wishing for it so hard you held your breath so as not to spook it.

“I tried to find you. Went back to that place but they wouldn’t give me your name… well, your boyfriend’s name…But you’re here now and … don’t you think it means something?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, “Don’t tell me it’s destiny, Joel,”

He huffed a sad laugh, “I know it sounds stupid. But I see the way you look at me,” he inched closer to you, “I see your eyes. I see the way your body reacts to me…what are we going to do about it?”

Your eyes were locked, faces so close that you were breathing each other’s air.

Like that night he waited for you to take the first step, to give him permission.

You thought about all the nights you had dreamed about his hands on you, his lips trailing kisses along your neck, his cock splitting you open and the desire won over reason once again.

You tugged him closer by the collar of his shirt and pressed your lips to his. Like the first time his arms immediately embraced you and he answered your kiss with hunger and vigour.

He was holding you tight as your hands were roaming his back, so strong and broad under your touch, until he parted from you.

“I’m not making you do this, am I?” He asked through heavy breaths.

“No, I want it. I want you,” you assured him looking into his blown eyes. His happy smile warmed your heart and you hugged him and pressed your cheek to his warm chest peeking out from the shirt. You felt him plant a kiss on the top of your head and your eyes welled up with tears. You realized that you missed not only his body, you missed him, the way he had made you feel that time, the warmth he had given you.

You sniffed and he bent his legs at the knees lowering himself and searching for your eyes.

“Hey, hey, what is it, baby?

“I’m really happy to see you.”

He smiled and took your face between his warm palms before pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m happy too,” he whispered and you stood like that for a few moments, quietly enjoying each other.

Soon it wasn’t enough and you started to make out. Joel grabbed your ass cheeks and squeezed them with his big hands. You pressed your hips to him and felt him grow harder with every stroke of your lips against his.

“Fuck me, Joel,” you whimpered and he growled before looking around the bathroom.

“C’mere,” he said, pulling you to the toilet. He put the lid down and sat on top of it.

You immediately straddled his lap and your lips found his again. He was caressing you with his tongue while you were grinding your pussy against his stiff bulge. His pants were thin so you felt his cock perfectly.

His hands were kneading your ass cheeks before they sneaked under your dress and the sensation of his skin on yours made you gush into your panties.

“Wanna ride me, baby?” He asked and you nodded eagerly, your pretense having already crumbled.

You got off him so he could tug his pants along with his boxers down to his knees. They pooled around his ankles on the floor. You saw his long thick cock and your mouth watered.

Still standing in front of him you hiked up your dress revealing your lacy panties and he cursed under his breath. You softly gasped when he leaned towards you and pressed his lips to your covered pussy. His hot wet tongue licked over the material applying pressure to your clit and you moaned his name.

“Fuck.. again,” he commanded pulling your panties to the side and exposing your pussy, “Say my name like this again.”

You followed the command breathing out a sultry “Joel” and he groaned as his mouth latched to your cunt. His tongue slid between your folds and he began eating you out, holding you tight with his thick fingers digging into your ass cheeks.

Soon you came whimpering into the back of your hand.

Not giving you a respite Joel pulled you down to straddle his naked thighs. His cock looked painfully hard and drops of precum landed on your skin with each harsh movement.

His lips and chin were shiny with your slick and you licked it off him before kissing him again. His hands pulled the neckline of your dress down along with the cups of your bra and he cursed staring at your breasts.

His hands darted to knead them.

“Fuck, they are gorgeous,” Joel mumbled before taking a nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hard nub.

You loved him playing with your tits but you needed more. So you lifted your hips, took his hard cock and guided it to your crying entrance.

Joel parted from your breast, looked down and leaned back slightly to watch his cock disappear inside your little hole.

“Oh, yeah…” he moaned and you echoed him while your walls were parting, welcoming his length.

You locked eyes with him, watching pleasure paint his face as you were sinking on him inch by inch.

You moaned loudly when you bottomed out.

“Naughty girl, want everyone to hear you? Maybe you want them to watch you bounce on my dick too, huh?”

You pussy clenched around his thick cock and you fluttered your eyes shut, almost coming just from hearing him.

“Yeah, that’s my little slut,” he praised you and thrust up harshly into you. You opened your eyes and gasped as his tip hit your cervix.

You began rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his member.

His hazy gaze was sliding over your heated face, bouncing breasts and glistening pussy which was tightly enveloping his cock.

Joel’s soft growls and curses filled the bathroom while you were mercilessly biting your lip trying to keep your whimpers from escaping.

Suddenly you heard a short buzz coming from behind you. Your phone. Probably a text from your boyfriend. To be honest you forgot about him as soon as Joel’s tongue slid into your mouth. He had probably arrived at the party and the thought of him catching you and Joel in the act skyrocketed your arousal. You couldn’t deny that it was hot. So you kept riding Joel and he was helping you, with his hands on your hips.

Then you heard the buzzing again and now it was continuous. He was calling you.

“Answer it,” Joel said, making you stop by putting pressure on your hips.

“Fuck, i don’t know…let’s keep going,”

“I said answer it,” Joel repeated, his fingers squeezing your flesh, not painfully but enough to show you that he was serious.

With a wicked smile you reached behind still sitting on his cock and took your phone off the counter.

You swiped the button to the right and answered the call.

“Hey,” you said trying to sound normal and felt Joel’s hands moving your hips on his lap. He was slowly massaging his cock with your tight pussy while you were talking to your boyfriend.

“I’m here. Where the hell are you?”

His voice was worried and frustrated and you felt a little bad but the guilt was completely overshadowed by the sensation of Joel’s cock dragging in and out of your channel, his hands gliding over your thighs, ass, chest, his eyes devouring you.

A little smile was dancing on Joel’s face as he slid his hands under your thighs and started bouncing you on his cock, his fat head hitting your cervix with a delicious ache. You gasped and tried to stop him but the arousal was clouding your mind making you pliant and obedient to Joel’s desire.

“I’m in the bathroom. Aaahh,” you moaned after a particularly hard thrust and hastily put a palm over your mouth, eyes wide and scared. Joel’s smug grin told you he was enjoying himself too much. You tried to collect yourself.

“Sorry, my period started…it hurts.”

“Shit, really? Will you be out soon?” He whispered into the phone.

“N-no… ehm.. it’s big.. I mean it’s bad,” you stammered when Joel took your nipple in his mouth and started sucking and licking it, his strong hands still moving you on his thick cock. His dark eyes were looking up into yours and you felt yourself on the edge of climax.

You heard a frustrated groan in your ear. You replied with another whimper.

“I’m dripping everywhere,” you whined, fluttering your eyes shut with pleasure and heard Joel curse against your breast.

“Do you need help? I can come there,” your boyfriend offered unsurely.

“No, no, I’m managing it… aah.. i'll see you at home. Bye!”

You quickly ended the call and threw the phone back on the counter.

“You’re horrible,” you whined nuzzling Joel’s neck and kissing his skin there.

“I’m horrible? You were moaning on my cock talking to your boyfriend, naughty girl,” he purred against your temple, thrusting up into your pussy with added vigour.

His fat tip was grinding against your soft spot with every thrust, your clit was rubbing deliciously on his soft lower belly and when he kissed you, your pussy began contracting around his cock.

“Here we go… good girl,” Joel praised you, watching you unravel in his arms, rocking his hips into you.

“Joel…” you moaned a little too loud and his palm covered your mouth. You were whimpering into his hand, eyes shut, while his strong arm was holding you close.

When the spasms ended you slumped into his embrace and he let you rest for a minute or so before you felt him gently move his hips again.

After your climax the affection for him overwhelmed you. You wished to give him everything, every tiny bit of yourself. So you started riding him, whispering his name, knowing the effect it had on him.

“Joel…Joel… Joel..”

He dropped his head back, mouth slack and eyes hazy, and his ecstatic expression made your chest flutter with pride.

Then he brought his lips to your ear and whispered,

“You little minx… I’m gonna blow my load right into your slutty pussy if you don’t stop...”

“I want your load…”

“Where, baby?”

“Inside,” you replied and his thrusts became fast and erratic.

“Fuck, really? Want me to pump you full?…make you leak all over your thighs?.. ‘m gonna ruin your pretty dress.. gonna be all covered in my cum.” He was growling through gritted teeth, fucking up into your cunt fast and hard, making your whole body bounce on his lap.

Then he stilled with a pained moan, his face pressed to the crease of your neck and began pulsating inside you. You felt the warmth of his seed filling you up as his arms were squeezing you so tight you could barely breathe.

Every jerk of his body marked another rope of cum painting your walls.

When his body relaxed, you two didn’t move. Joel was nuzzling your neck trying to catch his breath while you were running your fingers through his curly hair, slightly damp with sweat.

Your stomach started churning with fear and worry. He used to be a stranger haunting your wet dreams and invading your fantasies. But that day every thrust of his hips, every kiss was turning him into someone else, someone too important for you to lose, someone impossible to forget. That realization scared you to the core and you hastily got up from his lap. His cock slipped out of your pussy, making his cum leak all over your inner thighs but you didn’t care. With your heart gripped by fear you stepped back to the counter.

He looked up at you, startled by the sudden change in your mood, got up too and pulled his boxers and pants back on.

After adjusting his clothes he took a cautious step towards you and raised his brow waiting for you to talk.

“We can’t do this anymore, Joel” you mumbled, as your eyes stung with tears.

He sighed, took another step and opened his arms to you. You hesitated for a moment but his magnetic pull made you press your body to him, with your cheek on his chest wetting his shirt. He planted a kiss on top of your head and his embrace, warm and comforting, somehow made your fears dispel and you took a deep breath feeling yourself calming down.

“I need to go,” you whispered and left his embrace with reluctance.

“Just one second, baby,” he said before lifting you by the waist and setting you down on the counter, making you gasp in surprise.

Joel dampened a hand towel and asked you to lift your hips. You did and he slid the soaked material off your legs. Then he cleaned you up, his touch gentle and soft and you let him take care of you. When he finished, he stood between your legs, hands on your waist, his forehead pressed to yours.

“Wanna ask you something,” he whispered and you hummed, waiting for him to continue.

“Don’t let him fuck you, baby, please.” His hand sneaked under your dress and he gently stroked your folds with his thumb, “This pussy’s mine now. Fuck…already miss being inside you.”

You moaned hearing his words and reached for his lips. His possessiveness and the kiss you were sharing made your core ignite again and you hastily parted from him, afraid not to be able to leave. And you needed to leave. To gather your thoughts, to decide what to do next.

You took your panties and your phone off the counter but he grabbed it from you.

“Not so fast, little girl.”

“Joel!”

You stood up, about to protest.

“I won’t let you disappear this time.” He put your phone in front of your face and unlocked it.

You saw him dial a number, his number, and press Call. When you heard a buzz in his pants he gave you your phone back with a pleased grin.

You were happy and a little scared that he had your number too.

“Good bye, Joel,” you said, smiling back but feeling a pang of sadness in your heart about leaving him.

You hopped off the counter and headed for the door but suddenly Joel grasped your wrist and spun you around. You giggled, blinking away the whiplash. With your face between his big palms Joel gave you a farewell kiss and then looked deep into your eyes.

“I’ll see you soon, baby.”

Before leaving you brought your lips to his ear and told him something that made him beam. It was your name.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌸

Your comments make me very happy and reblogs help to spread my work♥️

Part 1 || MASTERLIST

Tag list💖 @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess

Also tagging lovely people who showed interest in pt 2: @survivingandenduring @akah565 @untamedheart81

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future fics💕

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hellomynameisells · 1 month

Note

Omg I just adore your writing!! I hope you're having a great day

I just read one of your gym bro!Rafe fics and I just can't help but think about reader helping him with his workouts by being on his back while he does pushups or letting him use her for his bench presses instead of the weights and she's js giggling and happy to help

Also could I be "🌺" annon if not taken!

ahh thank u so much darling!! my day has been amazing, hope urs has been too!! 🤭 (sorry this took so long)

rafe resisted the urge to roll his eyes as you continued to wheedle at him through batting lashing. he sighed, fingers combing through sandy locks in exasperation. "nah, not today kid, you’re just gonna distract me.”

your eyes widened, expressive balls pooling with despair. “distract you? no, promise I won’t, just wanna spend time with you, pleaseee."

"yeah, that so? wanna remind me what happened last time?" (the time in question when you ended up in the locker room with your back and legs pressed against the dewy shower walls...)

"mhm, I'll be good this time, promise."

rafe usually wasn't one to entertain your antics– tearing out any sign of bratty behaviour by the root before it could sprout into an even greater annoyance–but with the way your voice came out softly muffled, nuzzled into his thick bicep with that adorable pink dress that was a personal weakness...how could he refuse?

it was peak hour at the gym, a time in which both the most aspirational people you’d ever meet could be found at the same spot as the laziest motherfuckers in existence. a crease formed in rafe's brow followed by a curt scoff. you attention was piqued, ears poking up as you asked: "wha's the matter?"

rafe's piercing glare remained on the moron who sat within the barbell rack, fingers tap tap tapping against his phone as he nodded away to the music blasting through his headphones— completely unaware and ignorant.

rafe had half a mind to approach the guy with his fist, but he was snapped out of his darkening thoughts by your sweet, anchoring him back to reality.

his blue orbs flitted down to your form. your gaze turned questioning when his face contorted into a mischievous grin, "looks like I might have a use for you after all."

you squirmed, adjusting your position on the blondes back with a small giggle. his chest vibrated as he huffed out in response, “you comfy up there?”

“mhm!”

shortly after his arms began to shake, shallow breaths increasing in a way that sounded uncomfortable. “ah—shit ok, off off.”

you slid off the broad expanse of his back, hoping one foot to another as you waited for his next instruction. “how long was that?”

your pause said it all, mouth falling open into a dumb little gape. “um…”

“can’t even handle a simple instruction,” an amused snort slipped past his lips and he flicked your temple, “a’ight, next ones up. this time keep your brain runnin’ yeah?”

you nodded slowly, pretty eyes falling to the matted floors shamefully.“‘msorry for being useless, promise ‘m tryin’”

rafe lips cracked into a smile as he cupped your jaw, calloused thumbs rubbing over your delicate skin. “oh I know, kid, I know.”

sincerely ~ 🦓༝༚༝༚

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hellomynameisells · 1 month

Note

hiii request for when rafe tells reader he loves her for the first time! i feel like it would be so sudden like ..

is 🎀 anon taken? :3

got mildly carried away with this one!! hope you like it!! and no it’s not 😊😊💌💌

rafe’s hands squeeze into fists at the sound of your giggles behind him. he hears the low buzz of the hair clippers behind him, feeling your hands as they brush against his head, “what’s goin’ on back there doll?”

you’re giggling again, running the clippers along his scalp and watching as his beloved bangs fall to the ground, “m’just thinkin’ about your new look s’all” you answer honestly. you weren’t sure if you would like it at first, but with every pass of the clipper you feel the idea growing on you.

he smiles to himself at your high pitched laughter, “alright just keep your eyes on my head, don’t need you messin’ this shit up”

you salute him even though he can’t see you and get back to work. before long, rafe has lost the entirety of his hair—and you have named yourself his new hairstylist, dragging him to the bathroom to show him his new look.

you’re standing in front of him in the mirror, the two of you observing his his head intently.

“i think i like it” you announce, giving him a big toothy grin in the mirror.

he flips you around, large hands gripping your waist to place you atop the counter, “well that’s good, because i can’t get it back honey”

you nod, doe eyes staring up at him with the most intense gaze he’s ever received. it should make him nervous, the potency of your eyes on his, but instead it soothes him.

rafe’s spent a lot of years with eyes on him. mean ones that form thin lines, gazes filled with disgust, with anger. rafe’s used to evoking these feelings, but your’s are different.

you look at him like he hung the moon. big pupils that he can see his reflection in, accompanied with the sweetest smile he’s ever encountered.

it’s not often he’s relaxed, in fact, he beats himself up often for his inability to live life. but here with you right now, your eyes make him feel at ease.

“i love you”

your eyes widen in tandem with rafe’s, the two of you processing his words together, “damnit, forget i said that”

but you’re immediately mushy, body sinking into the counter like a puddle of honey, small arms snaking around the boys large frame, “you love me bear? like you really mean it?”

and he’s blinking at you, running a large hand down his face in distress before mumbling out a secure response, “i do.”

the smile that appears on your face is dazzling, and rafe fights the matching one that threatens to appear, “i love you too.”

he’s smushing his tongue into his cheek, nodding at you with a pleased smirk. meanwhile you’re elated, arms thrown around him and voice carrying throughout the room, “you love me! you love me!”

he’s hiding a smile behind you, “yeah don’t wear it out, kid”

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hellomynameisells · 1 month

Text

Needy

wc: 1.4k

pairings: college!Miguel x Virgin!Fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, dry-humping, Cursing, y/n used once, lmk if i missed any pleasee

Summary: A heated make-out with Miguel turns into something more

halfway proofread

masterlist

"Miguel, stop lying." You deadpan.

"What?! I'm not lying its true!" Miguel says in defense as you two are walking to your last lecture for the day.

"There is no way you have never tried Arroz con Leche. I refuse to believe you Miguel! With how much your mom cooks I find that hard to believe," You made a mental note to take Miguel to your parents house so your mom could make him rice pudding.

"I guess my mom just never had the want to make it? She never really made desserts often. When she did she usually made flan," Miguel shrugs.

"You are going to try Arroz con leche. You'll love it I promise," You guys stop outside the lecture hall and you look up at Miguel lovingly.

"I'm sure I will, Mi alma," He steps closer to you and pulls you in for a quick, but steamy kiss. His lips felt like pillows against yours and you melt into the kiss as his hands wander to your waist to pull you closer.

"mmm, I love your outfit today," He whispers against your lips before dipping his head to train kisses along your neck and shoulder.

"Always so beautiful," Miguel whispers against your skin. You quietly moan at the contact. Miguel's touches start to become less innocent, and the feeling of his plush lips dragging along your skin while he whispers praises in your ear makes your brain short circuit.

You shake your head and realize your location.

"Miguel, stop, we have to go inside." You laugh softly, trying to pry his head away from you. Miguel groans in defeat.

"This isn't over hermosa," Miguel whispers seductively into your ear which makes you regret pushing him off so soon.

You guys walk into class and you put your head down to avoid the judgmental gaze from the people who witnessed borderline porn in the hallway.

You find the empty seat next to Miguel as you take all your supplies for class out of your bookbag.

A few minutes into the lecture, you were taking notes until you saw your phone vibrate next to you. You look at the locked screen to see a text from Miguel that reads:

My place after class?

You furrow your eyebrows, wondering why he couldn't have just told you since he's right next to you. You look over to him to see him with a stupid smile on his face.

You nod a simple 'yes' to him before continuing your work.

For the rest of class you kept zoning off, thinking of all the things Miguel plans to do with you when you got back to the dorms.

You and Miguel usually only made out here and there but you guys never went further than that. You told him that you wanted to wait a bit until you were ready. He agreed, and tried his best to keep his hands to himself, though sometimes it got pretty heated with clothes being thrown around the room.

You thought back to the hallway incident and realized that Miguel had been a little more touchy than usual. You realized that he's become more needy and you cant help but squeeze your thighs together at the thought of Miguel being needy for you.

After class you and Miguel walked back to his dorm while linking your pinkies together.

once you got to his room, you kick off your shoes and plop on his bed, sighing loudly.

Miguel took off his shoes and crawled on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight.

You giggle, "Miguel, get off your too heavy!"

He humms 'no' before snuggling closer to you. You laugh and pet his head. You hear him groan in pleasure, the rumble of his chest reverberating throughout your body.

He trails his hands lightly, up and down your arm and you cant help but laugh and yank your arm away.

"That tickles..." You say to him softly.

"Oh yeah?" He sits up more and starts tickling you on your stomach and your armpits.

You start laughing uncontrollably, as you squirm and kick your feet.

"MiGUELLlll!! STAWPP-P-P-P- HE-HE-HE-he-he!" You yell out. Miguel keeps tickling you while laughing along with you, looking at you with so much love and adoration. You smile makes his stomach all warm, and he cant help but stop and admire your pretty face.

"Hey...why'd you stop?" You pout slightly.

"Thought you told me too," He chuckles.

There is a comfortable silence between you two as Miguel pulls you to straddle his lap. He holds your face in both of his hands and just looks at you.

Yup.

He just stares.

For a good five minutes.

And you just sat there. Awkward...

Miguel finally spoke up after a million years and whispered, "So beautiful."

He gave you a small kiss on the nose, before kissing you on the cheek, then your forehead, then your other cheek, and then your chin.

Finally, very gently, almost not even there, he gave you a kiss on your lips, so slowly as if you were small clumped up ball of sand that looked like a rock and he didn't want to shatter it because it was just so delicate. (why tf didn't I just say glass?)

He kissed you again and you reciprocated, except more passion, and love put into it.

The kiss started to get more heated and Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer so you were seated on his crotch.

You experimentally rocked your hips and Miguel groaned lowly.

"Y/n, stop." He groaned with his head thrown back as you kept rocking.

"Stop what?" You said innocently.

"D-don't, I dont wan't t-to.... You said-" He stuttered as he tried to get his words out. He was slowly losing his restraint with every rock of your hips.

"S'fine Miggy. I want to..." You whine in his ear as you feel a growing bulge beneath you.

You rocked you hips harder, feeling his tip rub against you clit, making you both shudder.

"Mmmm, fuck yes, mi amor do-don't stop..." Miguel moaned, his eyes hooded as he helped guide your hips against his.

Miguel started guiding your hips faster, making you grind harder on him. You felt wetness pool in your core, seeping through your underwear and onto your pants.

You whined and moaned in his ear as he moan into yours. Your breaths getting heavier and you head spinning even faster. Miguel started tugging at your pants.

"Take em' off," He all but whined into your ear. it took you a second to process what he was saying. You took your pants off, leaving you in your underwear, and Miguel took his off as well. You could see his print through his boxers, leaving little to the imagination.

You got nervous as you saw his size, and Miguel noticed this. He guided you back on his lap and gave you a passionate kiss.

"S'okay baby. We don't have to go all the way right now, okay?" Miguel whispered against your lips. You nodded impatiently, feeling the ache and tingling feeling in your core.

You continued grinding onto him, his hands roaming all parts of your body now. The sensation was even better due to the fact that the only thing separating you two was you guys' undergarments.

You moaned louder into Miguel's neck, and he silenced you with a passionate kiss. You dragged your fingers through his locks, pulling him closer while grinding faster.

"Mi-Miguel i-i'm gonna cum." You whine.

"Cum for me, amor." Miguel rasped into your ear.

Yours and Miguel's movements became more desperate as you were chasing your release.

You felt white hot pleasure crawling up your spine and pulsing throughout your body as you climaxed. Miguel started overstimulating your poor clit, now using you to chase his release.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, dame todo, d-dame todo," Miguel moaned loudly while begging in your ear.

He halted his movements abruptly and he groaned loudly as he came, drenching his boxers, the wetness seeping into your underwear.

"Fuuuuuuuck." He threw his head back and arched his back as he came hard.

You both were panting and moaning still as you came down from your highs. The slipperiness of Miguel and your release made it all the more pleasurable when you kept lightly rocking your hips.

Miguel finally groaned and stopped you from overstimulating him.

Miguel looked into your fucked out eyes and pulled you close.

"You okay, baby?" Miguel stroked your back, soothing your shaking body.

You nod, your brain evaporated from the intense amount of pleasure you received.

Miguel chuckles slightly at this and holds you close for a little while longer, whispering how much he loves you before cleaning you both up so you can sleep the rest of the day away.

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hellomynameisells · 2 months

Text

rafe cameron x quiet!reader

Sitting on the couch next to Rafe while he was on the phone. Your legs draped over his lap as you lean your head on his arm, resting your body on his. You've brought his arm into your lap, fiddling with his hand. Tracing the lines on his rough palm, up and down. Messaging his fingers and hand. Feeling the veins that go up his arm, feeling relaxed. Completely oblivious to the argument he's having on the phone.

You were snapped out of your trance, Rafe abruptly sitting up straight and yanking his hand away as he yells at the man on the phone. "That wasn't the deal man!" Unfazed, you bring your knees to your chest, resting your head on your knees. It was a bit strange to most people but no matter how loud Rafe got you could just be by him and stay relaxed. Unless he was yelling or talking to you, you were in your old little world and Rafe loved that about you.

Noticing his interruption, he leaned back into the cushion. Allowing you to go back into your cozy position and play with his hand. He gently leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your head. Apologizing to you, "I'm sorry sweet girl, didn't mean to scare you." Then focusing back to the man on the other line.

Rafe knew he didn't scare you by jumping up like that. Rafe knew he never really scared you ever. No matter how aggressive he got towards people. You just needed to be close to him and he knew that. It made him feel needed, wanted even. Bringing a sense of comfort to his chaotic life. You two just needed each other.

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hellomynameisells · 2 months

Note

idk what this but reader has a collection on panties and Rafe goes crazy for it.😶

rafe is such a loser when it comes to lingerie lol

you were not shy about showing off your body. you loved wearing obnoxiously mini micro-skirts and skin-tight low rise yoga pants, you especially loved the slight peek of the waistband of your panties that shined through. sometimes, you’d even allow the ridiculously thin band of your thong to sit a bit higher on your waist. you felt a light need to show off your underwear, mainly due to just how expensive the flimsy fabrics were. rafe didn’t mind swiping his card, if it kept you dolled up and content, he was also secure enough with himself to where a swell of pride who burst in his chest whenever you’d bend over and your lace panties would come into view.

dressed in your plush robe, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you struggled to choose which pair of panties you would wear for the day ahead. your wispy eyelash-clad doe eyes widened at the wide array of thongs and panties that filled the shelf of your dresser. you loved accessorizing and contrary to popular belief, your selection of underwear was, in fact, an accessory. with a defeated sigh, you licked over your pouty lips, “papi, can you help me with something?” you called out, huffing with a frustrated pout as rafe’s heavy footsteps grew closer and closer to you.

acknowledging you with a chaste kiss to your temple, rafe snakes a toned arm around your waist, leaning his chin on your shoulder as his gaze followed yours, “y’having trouble picking one?” he questioned, earning a nod from you as you wordlessly pulled away from him, taking a seat at your makeup cluttered vanity, mentally checking out of the frustrating, yet feeble task. rafe was quick to scan the nearly full drawer, the wide array of pinks, lace, and silk underwear causing him to swallow thickly — he needed to see you in every single one. “what about this one, mama?” he held up a baby pink thong with black lace trimmings.

with an annoyed roll of your eyes, you shrugged, “i already wore those, papi — i don’t even want to go out anymore,” you whined, tears of frustration glazing over your usually bright eyes. there goes your spoiled little girl peeking through. “nothing in there looks pretty,” you continued your rant, your words falling deaf to rafe’s ears as he sifted through the drawer, licking over his dry lips as the varying underwear, his mind focused on how he’d push the expensive panties to the side as he fucked you.

rafe’s bright blues widened as his finger hooked into the baby pink a white thong that was adorned with an embroidered pink ‘R’. completely dismissive of your whiny rant, rafe dropped the dainty material atop of your vanity, “put that on, then show me how it looks — m’gonna be doing some work in the office,” he spoke sternly, lightly nudging your chin with his finger, silencing you as you parted your swollen lips to speak. truthfully, rafe didn’t have any important duties to tend to, he simply needed to get away from you before you could see his already tenting hard-on.

you were quick to comply, allowing your robe to carelessly pool on the polished hardwood floor as you stepped into the thin material, gently sliding the thin waistband to sit comfortably on your hips as you your plump lips expanded into a knowing smile at the sight of the baby pink ‘R’ that was sewn into the thong, covering your pussy. your stomach turned with a blushing embarrassment at how giddy the panty made you. crossing your arms over you fully exposed breasts, you scurried out of your bedroom. rafe’s harsh typing pattern can be heard throughout the hallway as your pranced into his office.

rafe raised his head from his laptop with a stoic expression written on his handsome face as he watched you stand awkwardly on your tippy toes, your arms concealing your supple breasts, “don’t do that shy shit, mama — i’ve seen it before,” he sighed — running hand over his shaven face as he laid back in his leather chair, spreading his legs as he shifted his hips. catching just how shy and coy you were being, rafe shut his laptop, pushing it to the far side of his desk.

he’d be damned if you felt anything less than his pretty girl.

“c’mere,” he huffed, his eyebrows furrowed as you walked towards him, your arms remained crossed over the swells of your chest, a slight smile prodding at your swollen lips as rafe gently grabs ahold of your arms, pulling them away from your chest, “there y’go — y’so fuckin’ pretty,” rafe ogles shamelessly, earning a ticklish laugh from you as he pressed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your tummy, causing your hands to softly cradle his head. rafe continued kissing your abdomen, his lips stretching into a knowing smirk as you threw your head back, sighing as rafe brought his lips to the thin strap of your waistband, tugging on it with his sharp teeth.

allowing the strap to snap back against the skin of your hip, a shocked squeak left your swollen lips as rafe’s eyes became hooded, his pupils dilating as he pulled away from you, “get on the desk, keep your legs open,” your doe eyes flickered with confusion as you quickly complied, keeping your shy gaze on rafe as you walked towards the desk, a soft gasp leaving your lips at the feeling of the cold and sturdy wood biting at your plush skin of your ass. with a shaky breath, you leaned back on your forearms, keeping your legs spread as your feet dangled off of the edge of the desk.

“those pretty fuckin’ panties — gonna keep ‘em on while i fuck you, mama,” rafe sighed, his eyes handing now as you lick over your swollen lips, humming sweetly as rafe unbuttons his slacks, pulling his briefs down just enough to free his hard cock, “y’already fucking ruined ‘em, so fuckin’ wet already,” he adds, rubbing his swollen tip up and down against the dampened spot of your panty, pressing his tip against your clothed hole, eliciting a desperate moan from you.

“papi, please fu—” you whined, biting down into your bottom lip as rafe waved a silencing hand, before pulling your panty to the side, his eyes greedily drinking in the slick glisten of your wet folds and puffy clit.

sliding his thick cock into you, with ease, rafe leaned down, one of his arms flexed as he held himself up on the desk, while his free-hand cradled your head, pushing your forehead flush against his. rafe couldn’t help but smile at the way your doe eyes stared dreamily at the way his hips rolled against yours, your lips parted as you struggled to get any words out, aside from a few gritted moans.

parting his lips as means to mock you, rafe’s eyes gazed into yours as he watched you fail to say anything coherent, the sound of your soppy pussy squelching pathetically with each lewd thrust, leaving you a cock-drunk mess, “c’mon, mama — spit it out,” rafe teased, nodding as you simply blinked at him.

swallowing thickly, you let out a shaky breath, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you wrapped your arms around rafe’s warm neck, whimpering into his collarbone.

“can’t even fuckin’ talk, huh?” rafe chuckled, a low groan leaving his pink lips as he brings his arm around your back, relishing in your sweet moans and whines as he fucked his hips into you, “i know, mama, let it out,” he cooed, his thrusts remaining quick and firm as you cried into his chest, your wet pussy squishing and squelching as you sucked in a sharp breath.

“hmph! s’too sensitive, papi,” you shuddered, pulling your head away from rafe’s neck, your jaw slack open as you stared down at your conjoined hips, your wet eyelashes batting as your watched rafe’s pelvis grow sticky and shiny from your creamy wetness.

pushing your head to lean back against his chest, rafe’s thrusts became hard and deep, earning a high-pitched yelp from you as his hips harshly slapped into yours, “y’can fuckin’ take it, baby — fuck, be a good girl and take it.”

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hellomynameisells · 2 months

Text

They call you the clueless pogue. The pretty one.

You don’t care much either way—that comes from years of being Kiara’s best friend, she’s taught you well on how to ignore what other people think and say about you. Maybe you would care more, you think one day, watching JJ and Pope drive each other crazy while trying to fix something that’s inexplicably gone wrong with the Twinkie. John B is swinging in the hammock, eyes closed, empty beer in his hand that is soon replaced with a fresh one by Kie. She drops the old can into a bin that has the recycling symbol drawn on with a sharpie, her own creation. She walks towards you with a can of fruity seltzer since it’s well known with your new friends that you refuse to drink beer—and it all feels very domestic.

You might care about what other people say if you didn’t love your friends so much.

You are a little clueless though—at least the boys think so. They wouldn’t dare to say anything when your protective best friend was around, but when it’s just you and one of them, or all of them, it comes out a little more.

You wear the kind of clothes that they wouldn’t let a sister of theirs be caught dead in. They never used to care about stuff like that, not until you started hanging around more often. It was the result of absent parents that were only on the island a few months out of the year. The rest of the time you had free reign, and an unlimited credit card that often funded their adventures—gas for the Twinkie, beer for the night, a new outfit to wear to the party.

JJ gets into a fist-fight with a guy who keeps offering you a drink from the keg, not listening no matter how many times you refuse and grabbing the short hem of your yellow dress to yank you back. JJ doesn’t mean to knock him out—it’s just like instinct, he explains later that night to John B and Pope while you’re sound asleep on the pull-out with Kiara—the way he feels protective over you.

“Are you okay?” Kie asks, and you smooth out your dress from where that guy had grabbed it.

“Only because JJ saved me,” you say, looking at him with big doe eyes and fluttering eyelashes. He swallows uncomfortably.

“No biggie, princess, I mean you know me, I’m a big damsel-in-stress kinda guy-” Kiara rolls her eyes and brings you inside, and he’s left standing there with pink-tinged ears.

He doesn’t tell them about how you were looking around for someone, anyone to help, how scared you look when he touched you, how your face visibly eased when you locked eyes with JJ, how you held a bag of frozen peas to his black eye and kissed his cheek before going back to find everyone earlier. He decides to keep that for himself.

You don’t keep an eye out for your surroundings when you tag along on their adventures either. That’s pretty much John B’s responsibility now, walking towards the back with you. You often start looking around, head in the clouds, staring at the trees and sky and walking right into a pile of mud or a puddle.

“Wow, the air is so clean out here,” you comment while taking a deep breath. It’s said quiet enough that only he can hear you.

“Yeah, pretty girl, that’s because of all the trees.” You laugh and shove his arm, because duh, but you can’t respond because the others are yelling for you two to catch up.

He doesn’t let you lead—you’ve cried over too many ruined shoes for him to risk it anymore—instead he holds onto your hand firmly, gripping tight when he needs you to slow down and pulling gently when it’s okay to proceed. It’s his job to make sure all the bugs are out of the way, that you’re not walking into a spiderweb or running after a butterfly or pretty bird. The others tease you two and laugh, but you still thank him with a tight hug, the thin material of your sports bra not really hiding much, murmuring something about no signs of mud on your new sneakers.

“Yeah, anytime,” he breathes after you’ve already walked away. You turn back to smile at him, adjusting your ridden-up tennis skirt you’d sported today. “Wouldn’t wanna dirty those shoes.”

You make Pope feel like the smartest guy in the world sometimes, without even trying. It’s not like you’re stupid, because he knows you’re not, but when you bite your cheek and tap his shoulder to ask him another question about whatever you were working on, your words start going to his head.

“So if I wanna save this and put them all together, I just use this program? And I just use the mouse?” you say thoughtfully, repeating his instructions back to him.

“Yes, sweetheart,” and he tries his best to make sure he sounds patient—he’s learned from experience you don’t react well if you even suspect he’s getting frustrated.

Pope watches you play with the thin straps of your shirt before the string idly falls off your shoulder, exposing a swath of soft, sweet-smelling skin to him. Staring at your bare shoulder, he thinks he could never get frustrated at you even if he tried his hardest. When you finish making your little vision-board on photoshop, you turn to show him proudly, and he is proud, with how well you followed his instructions and weren’t too shy to keep asking for his help. Later that night at the Chateau, you lean against his shoulder with his arm swung around you on the couch and explain what each of the images mean until you fall asleep.

They’re all playing a game of chicken—wondering which one will be the first to cross that line and suggest something more than just friendship to you. Through empty cases of beer and boys-only fishing trips they’ve briefly discussed to each other that they’re interested, but of respect—to each other, not really to you—they haven’t made the first move just yet. No matter how difficult you make it.

At the beach you help the boys wax their surfboards, taking turns with each one, floating around a little tipsy already from your fruity drink. They’re all talking, but you don’t really pay attention, eyes staring at something in the distance.

JJ covers his mouth, imitating a walkie noise.

“Hello, uh, earth to princess, over.”

You turn back to him and his board, dropping the chunk of wax and leaning in. He blanks for a second—your pretty face getting closer, an eyeful of your tits in the tiny bikini you’re wearing today making his head spin. And you’re infront of everyone, which is definitely not how he’d thought he would win this little competition.

“Do you see that pretty girl over there? Three o’clock?”

“I see a pretty girl right in front of me,” he says, and you laugh, pushing his shoulder. He doesn’t realize that you think he’s just joking.

“Jayj, seriously. See her?” He nods, but still doesn’t turn to look. “She’s been staring at you for, like, ten minutes. You should go over there!”

You’re smiling big, like the idea of another girl talking to him sounds fun. He pulls back from you, confused.

“I need another beer.” He stalks off, walking to the boys while you turn to Kiara.

“What did I do wrong? I’m trying to get him laid-” Kiara rolls her eyes. You turn and see the boys in deep conversation, occasionally glancing back at you and Kie.

“She just told me to go flirt with some girl, like, right in front of her. I mean is this some kind of test?” He takes a long chug of the beer, sounding about as stressed as Pope and John B have ever seen. “Do I fail if I hook up with some rando? Or do I fail if I don’t hook up? It’s Schindler’s cat, man-”

“That’s not-” Pope starts, before being cut off.

“Sorry, sorry. Schrodinger’s kids.”

“No, JJ-”

“What the hell does she mean? So she wants us to hook up with other people?” John B cuts in, looking back at you, but something else on the beach seems to have caught your attention.

“Woah, I’m not doing that, but you two are more than welcome-”

“Yeah, nice try, Pope. We get with some girl so you can tell her you stayed loyal and win her over? I don’t think so, genius-”

“Well, you’re the one she’s trying to set up so I think I’m pretty safe right now-”

“It’s not a reality show Pope, you can’t eliminate me.”

“Guys,” John B speaks up.

“If this was a show, I’d clearly be the fan favorite and the winner-”

“Uh, says who? I would so win, let’s do a poll right now and survey this beach-”

“Guys.” Louder this time, they listen to John. He doesn’t say anything, just stares into the distance and soon they join him, to see what he’s looking at.

“Y’gotta be fucking kidding me,” JJ says, watching you run into Rafe’s arms, swinging around before giving him a kiss. Rafe pulls away and looks straight at the three of them, while giving them a wave.

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hellomynameisells · 2 months

Note

can u do one where the reader asks rafe for smth he has already said no to right when he climaxes? like she’s on top and js tryna get the bag she rlly wanted or smth 💀

I LOVE THIS CONCEPT 🫠

When Rafe gave you one of his credit cards, he told you not to go crazy.

You didn’t exactly listen.

After a particularly ridiculous bank statement, your boyfriend decided he needed to cut you off. He had to physically take the card from you. That’s what it had come to.

“Rafe, please,” you whined, arms crossed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning your name in annoyance.

“You’re about to fucking max it out,” he muttered.

Since then, you’ve had to ask him for any luxury item you want and just hope he says yes.

You’ve had your eye on a Dior bag with a five-figure price tag for a while now, but every time you’ve asked Rafe to buy it for you, he gives you a firm “no, baby.”

Tonight, Rafe’s over at your place, and you’re straddling him while you make out on your bed, his tongue pressing and twisting against yours.

He’s hard under you, cock twitching in his jeans, desperately grinding up against you.

Rafe doesn’t do the whole slow undressing thing. When he wants you naked, he wants you naked now, so when you feel him slip a finger under the strap of your tanktop, you strip down for him within a minute.

Once his boxers are off, you gently push him back to lie down onto your bed. You take his cock in your hand and slowly start to rub his length. He tips his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow.

“Do I make you feel good, baby?” you ask.

Rafe can only grunt in agreement. This big, tall, tough man is fucking wrapped around your finger when you have him in this state.

You spit on the tip of his cock and roll your hand around his girth, earning a smile and a soft groan from him.

When you rest your hands on Rafe’s hard stomach and sink down onto him, his breath is shaky. He fucking adores the way your pussy hugs him, your core hot and tight.

The bed starts to squeak as you ride him, bouncing and rocking the way he likes. His lips are parted, his eyes shut, and you can’t help but smile at how much power you have over him.

“You like being inside me?” you ask.

“Fuck yes, baby,” Rafe groans. “Don’t stop.”

You roll your hips harder and his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs. He opens his eyes to look at your pussy taking him in.

“Shit,” he whispers.

You smirk, biting your lip over how nicely he’s filling you up.

“Baby?” you ask.

“Hmm?” he moans.

“You like to make me feel good, too, right?” You start to bounce harder, thighs flexing.

Rafe can only nod, chest rising and falling with fast breaths. You know that his panting gets rougher and his hips get stiffer when he’s about to come.

So, you wait. You writhe on him how he likes, getting him closer and closer.

“You know what makes me feel really good?” you breathe.

“What?” he rasps.

“Getting spoiled,” you say. “I deserve it, right?”

“Yeah, you do, baby.” Rafe’s voice is strained now, close to his peak.

“Can I please, please get that Dior bag?” you ask.

Blue eyes meet yours, lids heavy and cheeks flushed. He knows your game, but he’s too fucking weak for you now as you’re rocking on his dick, tits bouncing.

“Fu- fuck,” he stammers. His cock hardens inside you. “Fine. Yes.”

You smile at him, slamming down on him and feeling his cum flood you in hot bursts. Rafe’s face contorts in pleasure while he shakes beneath you.

He comes down from the high, staring at you with an expression of awe.

“You are…” He breathes. “You’re something else.”

“Love you, too,” you say with a smile, reaching for your phone to make the purchase.

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hellomynameisells · 2 months

Text

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

"my eyes burn,rafey..." you whine,tugging at his shirt while he sits on the couch,selling drugs you don't even wanna know about.

"I told you to not wear contacts tonight and you still went and did that,so I don't wanna hear anything." Looking down at the bands of cash as he counts them before putting them in his pocket. "but my head really hurts and the music Is loud-" "and what do you want me to do? tell them to lower it down cause the princess over here is sick?"

You hated when he got like this,way too mean after snorting coke all day long. "you're being mean...stop it." Searching through your bag for the tiny container of the contacts you pull it out, carefully wiping your hand with a wet wipe before removing the contacts from your eyes as you sigh in relief,closing the lids before throwing the container back in the bag; this time searching for your glasses.

"rafe,do I look stupid?" You ask,gazing at him with your glasses now sitting on top of your face and a small pout on your lips. "you don't look stupid,but you are for asking such a dumb question- you're the prettiest girl,yeah?" Tugging you closer with an arm wrapped around your shoulders,before pressing a kiss to your head.

"I'll finish selling and then we can leave if you really want to,okay? "okay..." Nodding at his words as you look around the party.

꒦꒷︶°꒷︶°︶₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶°︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦

A couple of hours later you find yourself in the bathroom of his room,wiping away your makeup off before proceeding with your skincare routine as Rafe stands at the doorway,only a pair of sweatpants on his body.

"feeling better,kid?" He asks,moving over you as he wraps his arms around your waist. "not really,Advil is not working." Turning around after you finish your rituals, you smile a bit. "hi daddy" "hi angel..." Pulling you closer as his chest flush against yours,grabbing your chin as he smirks "too tired tonight?" "a bit...don't feel really like doing anything crazy-"

"you're gonna let me eat it?" Gasping out loud you hide into his chest,giggling quietly. "yeah...fine,but nothing else-"

Making an instant move as he hoists you up in his arms,sitting you on the counter of the bathroom,pressing your lips together hungrily. "fuck,yeah yeah- just let me taste you" Running a hand over your cami top as he squeeze at your left tit,moving his mouth lower as he sucks on the skin of your neck. "you smell so good" "it's the perfume you bought me for valentine's day" Smiling as he pulls down your top,latching his mouth on your nipple as his other hand move slowly on your shorts,pressing on your clothed clit. "no panties right? you know I don't like those on when we're at home"

Shaking your head with a yelp,you grab his hair pulling a bit "rafe-" "I know I know...I got you darling" Pulling down your shorts he smiles,sitting on his knees on the cold floor of the bathroom as he grabs at your ass cheeks,bringing you closer to his face. "Bon appétit" He mumbles before diving in.

Pressing his mouth on you as he basically makes out with your heat, sneaking a finger into your needy hole as his mouth sucks on your clit. "fuck- rafe.." "yeah,I know I know baby,I got you." Adding a second finger as his tongue licks everything he possibly can,savoring your juices as he loudly slurps making you almost embarrassed if it wasn't for the fact he was giving you the best head ever. "you're gonna cum for me baby and you're gonna do it loud and hard" Nodding as you grind your heat on him,his nose bumping deliciously on your clit making you moan out loud,pulling at his scalp "daddy- fuck, right there"

Keeping his rhythm steady his fingers curls into your spongy spot, making your head tilt backwards as your hand blindly searches for your glasses "rayray...my glasses,wanna see you.." Looking up at you,he uses his free hand to take your glasses from the counter,not stopping any motion as he puts them on your face. "thank you" Fixing them a bit, you look back down at him as his hand moves back down your throat,squeezing a bit before stopping back on your boob,pinching at your nipple.

With the final stimulation you scream "m cumming,fuck fuck!" Pushing his face more into you,you cum loudly closing your eyes in pure bliss as he slows the movement of his fingers, pressing a final kiss to your clit before coming back up. Wiping the juice off his face with a hand before sticking the same fingers into your mouth,making you gag as you lick them clean. "how's that sweetie? your headache gone?" "what headache?"

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hellomynameisells · 2 months

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Yes, we’ve established Rafes dominant, but that doesn’t mean our man doesn’t like being praised!!!!

you can’t tell me this man doesn’t have a praise kink! Yes, he likes praising you—but oh my god, he LOVES when you praise him. Like yes! Please rake your nails through his hair and whisper to him how good he’s making you feel when he’s going down on you, he’ll actually cum in his pants! Knowing he’s making you feel good makes him feel 10x better, and he adores that you’re so verbal about it.

“you take such good care of me, Rafey. My big strong man, hm?” You’d mutter, your body flushed against his. And he’d smile, chest puffed out and smug cause yknow what? Yeah. He is your big strong man. He loves taking care of his pretty princess gf! Knowing that you feel safe, cared for, and protected by him makes his cold heart warm up just a little ;P a lot

rafe would also definitely love when you’re out in public and you initiate little things like grabbing his hand so you don’t get lost in crowds, or tugging on the hem of his shirt when he’s in conversation with someone and you feel uncomfortable. It just shows physically that you trust him enough with your safety and comfort n he just loves that so much cause no one else does!! You see the good in him, and that’s his favorite thing about you.

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @sapriao @parkbabyj @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived

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hellomynameisells · 2 months

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bambi eyes (1) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: My first Rafe fic :)

word count: 4.4k

In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

Rafe finally felt he deserved to be back at Tannyhill. The house had remained empty over the last five years, Sarah wanted little to do with her real family anymore, Rafe made the tough decision to send Wheezie to a boarding school in Georgia and now she was starting college there. Rafe had cleaned up his act and gotten clean, mostly clean, and managed to save Cameron Development from complete ruin.

As soon as the police were off his tail, and he’d brought back some legitimacy to the Cameron name, he could develop the true relationships he needed to become unstoppable. It started with Barry, then gangsters from the mainland, and then Rafe's gained connections with the cartels. He then rebuilt the empire the Camerons once had in the Bahamas and now he owned ten times the amount of properties they used to own there.

He could achieve everything Ward never could have. He could be better a man than his father ever could.

After half a year in Nassau, Rafe was finally back in Kildare, and he had plans to make Tannyhill the ultimate fortress. He had finally acquired the last missing piece of his American dream – you. He eyed you in his rearview mirror, passed out in the backseat of his truck, before parking in front of the huge, white house.

There were already white moving trucks parked nearby, men in black clothing unloading new furniture he’d purchased and “merchandise” he’d acquired from the Caribbean Don he’d been working with. That Don is who he purchased you from, picking you out in a lineup of twenty girls.

The Don clapped his hands together before he said, “Just tell me which ones you would like to have a closer look at. I’ll have them stand and turn for you. If you have something in mind — perhaps a certain skin tone, curviness, hair color, I can make a suggestion.”

Rafe responded that he didn’t have a preference and that he would know you were the one when he saw you.

Looking through one-way glass, Rafe noticed aspects of each girl, including the tiredness behind their eyes and the elegance at which each of them moved their bodies. The Don had each girl stand and spin for him. There was not a single falter or misplaced step until Rafe saw you. When it was time for you to spin, you almost tripped over your own foot. You fixed yourself quickly and fixed your gaze forward however, Rafe noticed your eyes began to wander. It felt like you were looking right at him. Like you could see him.

“One of my favorites,” He said in thick Creole, “She’s quite an angel if you’re looking for someone who’s a little tamer. Good hips, natural hair, the breasts and ass are real too. I’m sure you’ll notice. For you, since you’re a friend, fifteen thousand for the whole night.”

The Don wanted Rafe to become a new investor in his trade and possibly bring girls to Kildare in order to expand his clientele. He wanted to impress Rafe, and let him have a night with one of his well-trained girls, although Rafe was looking to make a final purchase.

He hadn’t had a real conversation with you yet, he was in such a hurry to get back to the States that he had to keep you drugged for the time being. It would be better this way, he convinced himself, since he would be able to have the house ready before you came to. He got out the truck before opening the back door. Although you stirred slightly in your sleep, Rafe knew he wouldn’t wake you as he pulled you across the seat and wrapped you in his arms. Bridal style, he carried you up the patio and through the front doors.

An elaborate security system now kept track of everyone coming and going from the house. He had so much more than his father ever would have, but that also meant he had so much more to lose. He was a different man than the last time he was here. Much more mature. He used to throw meaningless parties so he could appear well-known, favorited by all, and hook up with girls who only cared about getting free drugs from him. This time things would be different.

“Hey, hey, careful with that!” Rafe barked at one of the men carrying a white tea table that he’d spent thousands on. He was attempting and failing to carry it and the two matching chairs that it came with. Rafe should’ve known what quality movers he was getting when he let Barry put his men on the job, “You think I’m paying you to break my shit?”

Rafe carried you up the winding stairs of his childhood home, imagining you feeling like this place was yours, just as much as he did. He thought he’d feel slightly more melancholy, looking at the familiar yellow walls, the elegant chandeliers, and period furnishings. Instead, he felt a weight lifted off of him. Your bedroom was one of the old guest rooms, only a few doors down from the master, and unlocked with his fingerprint.

The large room was freshly painted white, a twin-sized canopy bed was placed on the farthest wall, and Rafe placed you on top of the cloud-like comforter. You were still wearing one of his button-ups and a pair of his briefs that fit you more like shorts, Rafe not having had the time to dress you in the way he actually wanted to.

“Put it over in that corner, carefully,” He spoke to the mover carrying the table, although his eyes were focused on you.

“Mr. Cameron-”

“You’re dismissed. Tell Barry I’m expecting him tonight at nine.”

As the man turned to leave, Rafe quickly followed to shut the door behind him. He took another glance around the room, deciding that the table set was the perfect edition. He could bring you your breakfast there in the morning and, who knows, maybe you’d come to like the expensive tea set he also bought you.

Rafe spent a good amount of time just watching you sleep and obsessively thinking about what might he say to you when you awoke. His anxious thoughts didn’t go away when he stopped doing drugs, they worsened in fact, but you were his new medium to focus on. You were healthy for him.

He spent all the time he had between his meeting with Barry, caring for you, “Daddy’s going to take care of you,” He brought you to the bathtub and gently scrubbed you clean, shaving all the areas he preferred to be hairless, even taking the time to braid your hair so that it was out of your face. He quite liked you like this, like his very own doll, someone he could mold into a perfect Kook princess. Women in the real world often perplexed him, especially women like Sarah, who took the luxuries they were provided for granted.

You’d appreciate everything that Rafe could offer you, he knew that, and you’d be obedient as well. He brought you back to the main room once you were dried, and clean and your skin was moisturized and scented with vanilla. He laid you on the soft carpet in front of your bed and dressed you in a white nightgown and then took his time rolling white knee socks up your leg.

He could take his time, pacing himself, as he ran his fingers over every inch of you. He’d been rock hard ever since he undressed you originally, and he debated whether to take a quick sample of you.

You have plenty of time, Rafe, he reminded himself.

His phone vibrated a short while later after he tucked you back into bed, and he clicked the notification. Video of the driveway appeared on the screen, and Rafe saw Barry climbing from his car, “Daddy will be back very soon,” He spoke although you couldn’t hear, placed a kiss on your forehead although you couldn’t feel it, and shut the door quietly although you wouldn’t wake.

As soon as Rafe opened the front door, Barry was already shouting, “Country Club! How you been, man?” Rafe’s hand was already out to shake his. Truthfully, and sadly, Rafe would consider Barry his oldest friend. “You happy about all the money I’ve been making you?”

“Thrilled,” Rafe spoke sarcastically, leading Barry to his father’s old office. He thought back to the days when he had to creep through this room and steal because Ward didn’t trust him. Now, it was all his, “Speaking of …”

Swiftly, Barry pulled a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and dropped it in Rafe’s hand. Leaning against the oak desk, Rafe began to count, “That’s what I got for the boats. Those cars are going to take a little bit longer to sell.”

“And why’s that?”

“Those cars are classics, man, so I have a little bit of a bidding war going on,” Barry explained.

“I said I wanted them moved quickly,” Rafe sighed. He needed to get rid of as many of his father’s old things as possible if he wanted this place to be really his.

“I’ll get you everything by the end of the week,” Rafe nodded, continuing to flip through the bills, although normally this would be about the time he’d throw a tantrum, “So … heard you got yourself a beautiful girl-”

“Your guys run their mouths.”

“But it’s true?” Barry flashed his gold tooth, “You whipped, Country Club?”

Rafe opened the safe behind the tall bookcases, punched in the code, and safely tucked away the twenty-thousand dollars.

“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her anyways.”

Barry scoffs, “That breaks my heart, Rafe. I’m tired of these Pogue girls and the mainland chicks are even worse. In the old days, we used to share. You won’t help a brother out?”

Rafe smirked, “Like you said, that was the old days.”

You felt weighed down by whatever you were lying underneath, your eyelids were so heavy it took you a full minute to blink them open. You moved each limb slowly, trying to get blood flowing through them again. You saw sunlight reflecting off porcelain walls and felt creamy soft blankets enveloping you. You should feel comforted.

Pushing away the blankets holding you down, you pulled yourself up, strong enough to get onto your hands and knees. You stepped off the platform, off the bed, touching your toes against soft carpet but quickly your legs gave out. You whined as your knees hit the ground, surely bruising your skin, and let yourself fall back on your bottom.

Something fell down with you and turning your head slightly you found a teddy bear. You grabbed it by its arm, examining its chestnut fur and the pink bow tied around its neck. What? That was the question forming in your mind. You looked back at the bed you’d fallen out of and your eyes darted around the room. Three doors, a wall with big windows and long curtains, a table with chairs, a toy chest, a tall armoire, and a bookcase. This room did not belong to you, even in your wildest dreams, you’d never been somewhere so nice.

You noticed details in the wallpaper; small pink flowers decorated each wall, and white trim lined all the edges. All the furniture was white as well with elegant designs, and your original thought was that you must be in a castle.

You attempted to stand again and managed to get straight up on your wobbling legs until there was a small click, and the door began to open. You quickly stumbled back before you were sitting back on top of the mattress.

“You’ll go with Mr. Cameron now. To America,” Master said, “And you’ll remember your manners, won’t ya? Don’t want to end up like your friend.”

Mr. Cameron stood in front of you now. You remembered him being tall, but you didn’t remember feeling so small in front of him. With hands holding a tray in front of him, his mouth parted as his blue eyes raked over your figure.

You gripped the comforter tightly as he stepped closer, “You’ll have to take it easy,” He said first, walking over to that small table and placing the tray down, “Let me help you.”

When he came towards you, he held out both of his hands. You felt like you usually did, terrified, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you to obey. There would be worse pain than a bruised knee if you didn’t do as Mr. Cameron said. You grabbed ahold of his hands, allowing him to help you up before his hands moved to your hips as he steadied you.

“How do you feel?” He asked, a genuineness in his tone that you weren’t expecting.

Your lips parted and you realized you hadn’t spoken in so long. You also hadn’t had anyone ask you that question in a long, long time, “I’m … okay,” You spoke quietly as he searched your face. He was staring so intently that you grew insecure, turning your eyes away.

“I brought breakfast,” He began to guide you over to the table. You took slow steps, one in front of the other, holding onto him tightly when you felt you might fall. He set you gently down in the chair before taking the seat opposite you. You could see out the windows from this seat, your eyes finding a long dock and the ocean. When he cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back to his, “I’m not much of a cook but there’s a lady who works for me …she makes great pancakes, french toast, anything you could want really.”

You stared down at scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and a pancake with a chocolate chip smiley face and a whipped cream nose. He started to pour you a glass of water, pushing it towards you, “Drink something,” He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

You were really thirsty, you realized, and you took the glass he poured for you. When he didn’t pour himself one, a question rose in your mind, “Will this … make me sleep again?”

He immediately shook his head, “No, no. Drink, please.”

You were thankful, welcoming the nourishment. As you devoured the glass of water, he began to cut up the pancake into small pieces. You watched his concentrated face as he meticulously poured the syrup. Your mind didn’t stay on his interesting behavior because you were focused on eating next.

“My name is Rafe,” He said, “But you’ll call me Daddy.”

You paused, your mouth full of pancakes, “Okay? Nod yes if you understand,” He added.

You nodded your head, starting to chew again, and a smile seemed to pull at his lips. That’s what he must like all his girls to call him. “Good, that’s rule number one …This is your room, from now on. I’ll show you around the house after you settle in more. For now, you need permission to leave this room. Yeah?”

Again, you nodded, before swallowing your food. Rafe reached across the table with a napkin, wiping syrup from your chin, “I’m sorry,” You said, feeling embarrassed.

“No need to apologize,” He assured you, “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”

Take care of you. You weren’t positive about what he meant.

Your hands moved to your lap, “Can I ask … how many girls you take care of?”

His head tilted, and he seemed amused, “Just you, sweet girl.”

“This whole room is just for me?”

“Yes, and this whole house will be just for us,” He answers, “Here, that reminds me. I was going to wait until dinner but . . . I can’t wait.”

You watched as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out a silver necklace with a beautiful, pearl pendant. Still, you found yourself struggling to wrap your head around what was going on. Rafe stood, coming closer in order to put the necklace around your neck. You heard a small click before Rafe pulled his fingers away. Your fingers reach up to feel the pearl, “You’ll always keep this on. Okay?”

You nodded.

“Tell me.”

“I’ll always keep it on … Daddy,” You remembered to add. Something lit up in his eyes, and he took your chin in his hand and tilted it up further.

“Smart girl, Bambi,” He stated, “That’s what I’ll call you.”

You nodded, although you weren’t sure why he picked it for you. It was better than “whore” or “slut” which seemed to be Master’s favorites. Bambi sounded … cute, which certainly wasn’t a way you would describe yourself, “Daddy … why …all of this, uhm, for me?”

“You’ll have everything I want you to have. And Daddy wants the best for you, understand?”

“Y-Yes, uhm … thank you.”

“C’mere, let me give you a tour of the room” He gripped underneath your arms, helping you stand. The human closeness, his warmness, wasn’t something you were expecting. You couldn’t fully let your guard down though, you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“It’s good to have, uh, a routine,” Rafe explained, before showing you every item in the room. He clearly had been involved in picking everything out which you didn’t expect, “You’ll wake up by eight, make your bed every morning. . . your dirty laundry will go here and all your clothes are in here, if I have something specific picked out for you to wear, I’ll hang it here, you won’t wear any panties when you’re dressing for bed …and here’s the bathroom,” When you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time, your eyes widened in disbelief. Your hair was neatly braided, white bows wrapped at the end of each braid, and the nightgown made you look like . . . a doll. In the mirror, you could see Rafe lean his mouth down to your ear, “Do you like what you see?”

“I look …I think I look pretty, Daddy.”

“You do, sweet girl; that’s why I chose you.”

This was right. Rafe couldn’t have made a better decision choosing you. He had more rules to introduce you to but didn’t want to overwhelm you. He left you to brush your teeth while he took your tray of food back to the kitchen. When he returned, he found you peeking inside the toy chest, letting the top shut a little too loudly after he seemed to frighten you, ‘It’s okay, all these things are for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what you might like.”

He kneeled down with you as you took a look inside. There were quite a lot of stuffed animals, some puzzles, coloring sets, and some dolls. “My, uh, my sister Sarah, she used to love American Girl dolls. Have you ever heard of those?” You shook your head, picking up one that was dressed like an 80’s aerobic instructor, “They have all types of dolls. I should order you one that looks more like you.”

Rafe noticed you perk up at that. “One that looks like me?”

Your reaction made him chuckle, “Yeah, why not? If you want anything at all, you can just ask me,” Rafe could tell you didn’t believe him, although you still nodded in agreement, “I know you can’t be entertained forever by these things, but it’s better for your brain than watching TV all day. And we can watch movies together.”

“That would be nice-” Rafe leaned in to kiss you, his intrusive thought winning after staring at your lips. Rafe was surprised by how gentle it was and how gentle he still wanted to be with you. You were reacting so well to everything, he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining this. When he pulled away, you immediately started to lift your nightgown, attempting to expose yourself to him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Rafe gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your dress.

“I thought you wanted me …”

“ I do, I definitely do,” Rafe laughed awkwardly, “Let’s wait a little while longer. I want to undress you myself.”

You nodded eagerly, “But I … I could use my mouth?”

Rafe couldn’t believe someone could sound so innocent even while they were offering to give a blowjob, “Not before I taste you first, sweet girl.” Sexually, Rafe liked to be in complete control. He’d decide when they were ready, what positions, and who tasted who. His mind was starting to wander a little too far. He needed to remain composed for the time being, “For now, I want you to play. I need to work for a few hours, but I will bring you lunch, and we’ll eat together, okay?”

“Okay…thank you, Daddy,” You agreed, and Rafe happily placed a kiss on your forehead.

“You’re welcome, Bambi.”

Rafe tried to concentrate on work, he had a million things to arrange now that he was back in Figure 8, but his eyes would wander to the live footage on his computer screen from Bambi’s bedroom. She spent a while going through the toys he bought for her, and then she neatly made up the bed, before deciding on the American Girl dolls. Next thing Rafe knew, he was in virtual meeting with his Cameron Development team but was actively scrolling through the American Girl doll website in another tab.

Like he promised, Rafe took a break in the middle of the day to each lunch with you. Lana, Tannyhill’s newest household manager, prepared grilled sandwiches. Rafe joined you by the window seat where you had made yourself comfortable with two of the dolls and your teddy bear. You asked about Figure 8, of course, and Rafe gladly gave you the basics.

That night, after dinner was enjoyed, Rafe laid beside you in bed. You chose a book to read together, a chapter book called Bridge to Terebithia, “I have to admit, I’m not much of a reader. But this should be easy enough, right?”

“When you were little, did you always have …this?” You asked, a few pages of reading later, “Books and clothes and seats by the window.”

“I guess I did, yeah,” Rafe answered, “It was not all rainbows and sunshine, though.”

“Your father, was he like Master?”

“Yeah, basically. He was not a good man,” Rafe closed the book, turning his eyes to you “And he’s not your Master anymore, okay? It’s me and you now. Just me and you.”

You tilted your head, nuzzling more into the pillow, “If I’m bad, you won’t send me back?”

“No, not ever,” Rafe said steadfastly.

“You’ll punish me?”

Your words made him pause, and he could sense your worry, “I’m not going to hurt you, not in any real way,” Rafe’s hands found your waist, he gripped the bare skin beneath your nightgown, before his fingers roamed over your bottom, “You know how to be a good girl, right?”

You nodded, staring back, “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Rafe kissed you again, this time deeply and with the purpose of fully tasting you. He squeezed your bottom tight, pulling your front further against him so he could buck his hips against you. The book fell unread and to the wayside as Rafe roamed his hands over you.

He should wait, he told himself. It was only your first day here, but you were all that he had been waiting for. The idea that he could have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wanted you excited him more. A moan escaped you, and Rafe knew you were overwhelmed with the sensations, but he liked the idea of you feeling too much. He wanted fear in your eyes, fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him, and then he wanted you to fully surrender to him.

Rafe buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking until you cried out. Rafe knew you were a good girl because you had obediently gotten into bed for the night without your panties. He wrapped a strong arm around your back, easily flipping you onto your back. Rafe pulled away, breathing heavily, as he looked down at you.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Rafe asked, noticing your eyes were still closed. As you nodded, Rafe said, “Open your eyes for me.”

Rafe parted your legs further, reaching down to feel between your lips. Gently, he stroked up and down, feeling wetness at your entrance, “Tell Daddy how you like it.”

“I . . .” As he dipped a finger inside, your eyes shut again, squeezing tightly. This was a look of pleasure, Rafe noted, “Daddy-ah!”

“I think you want it gentle, hmm,” His index finger moved in and out slowly as his thumb caressed your clit, “I can be gentle, don’t worry.”

Rafe moved painfully slow, watching how every movement of his would change your facial expression. Once you were squeezing around his fingers and soaking the sheets, Rafe pulled down his sweatpants. He pressed his length against your entrance, watching your face as he pushed inside. You took a breath of air, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he slowly eased his way in and out.

He pressed his body closer to you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his back, and he tucked his head beside yours, his breath caressing your ear. He was gentle like he said, but he had to test your limits and see how deep he could go. Your whimpers told him what he needed to know and he felt your nails begin to dig into his back.

“Daddy, d-daddy, daddy,” You moaned his name, sounding a bit delirious as you repeated it over and over.

Rafe rocked harder against you, “Tell me. Say thank you for saving me Daddy.”

“Thank you–” Your voice came out barely above a whisper but Rafe could hear your small voice in his ear, “Thank you for saving me, Daddy.” Your hips writhing beneath him, needing more of him, was the final thing that sent Rafe flying towards the edge of the cliff.

He wanted to focus, to make himself last longer, but he needed you in that moment. His thrusts became shorter, and he sank deeper inside of you as he reached his peak, “Jesus,” Rafe gasped as you squeezed him tightly, your warmness pulsed around him, “Fuck.”

He resisted his desire to stay inside of you forever, pulling out and slumping beside you. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a moment to process what happened.

“Was that . . . good?” Your voice brought him back down to reality.

“Perfect, sweet girl,” Rafe took you in his arms, and you cuddled into his chest. Again, he whispered, “Jesus.”

Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!

Part 2

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hellomynameisells · 2 months

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WHAT THE BUZZ! — RAFE CAMERON (smut 18+, mdni.)

pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: rafe returns home with a fresh new haircut, and you don't know whether to be mad... or turned on

warnings: smut 18+, mdni. fingering, oral.

it was a peaceful saturday afternoon in the outerbanks. the sun slowly setting over the horizon as it emitted a soft golden orange hue to the sky from your window.

you quickly flipped over the next page of your magazine, feeling the glossy pages between your fingertips.

you had to admit you really hadn't done much today. besides going out for lunch with your boyfriend before he dropped you off at your house because he was meeting up with his friend barry for the afternoon.

that gave you an ample amount of time to paint your toes a bright white and to change your bed sheets to your favourite cream set with little pink roses decorating the fabric.

now you were lying on your bed, clad in a matching pyjama and fluffy light pink socks, kicking your legs as you read a magazine filled with unnecessary celebrity gossip lying on your stomach.

rafe was due to be at yours any minute, hopefully arriving with his promise of ice cream for dinner.

you didn't make any attempt to move as you heard your front door lock click and the sound of heavy footsteps making their way towards your room.

you bit your lip in anticipation, hearing the sound of rafe making his way to the front of your open bedroom door and his body leaning up against the door frame.

you smiled and you rolled your body over, making your way to sit at the edge of your bed.

though, instead of your boyfriend standing at your door, there was a man. seemingly resembling your boyfriend.

the same clothes, the same bright smile, the same strong arms with veins running down to his hands, but with... a buzzcut??

"rafe! what did you do!" you jump up from your place on your bed, padding your feet over to your boyfriend. you reach your perfectly manicured hand up to his usually soft, golden mop of hair, only to feel spikiness under your fingers.

"what? don't like it baby?" he asked, painting a mocking pout on his face as he brought his hands to the sides on your waist. "no-no. i-i i like it, its just.. different" he sighed, standing back so you could get a better look at the man in front of you.

his bone structure could probably fit any haircut he had, this one being no exception. he was utterly beautiful.

and as much as you are going to mourn the loss of carding your fingers through his soft locks, you could get used to how this new haircut made him look. which was even hotter, in your humble opinion.

"b-but. how am i going to play with your hair?" he raised his brow at your phrasing of what he knew you meant was 'how am i going to tug on your hair as you're eating me out'

"hair grows, pretty girl. but you and i both know that you playing with my hair is not your only problem with this" rafe stated smirking, the cold metal of his ring making contact with the bottom on your thigh as he hoisted you up so your legs were straddling his waist.

you squealed at his movements, draping your hands over his shoulders and he carried you over to your bed, dropping you softly where your head hit the pillows.

"why didn't you tell me you were getting your haircut?" you asked, changing the subject as rafe planted kisses down your neck.

"barry did it, said it would be fun to see your reaction." he murmured, not lifting his head up from your neck. "you shaved your hair to get my reaction, rafe!" you scolded, playfully pushing his head away from you.

"kinda, and my hair kept getting in my eyes, disrupted me from eating my meals" he said nonchalantly as he swiftly pulled your red heart-decorated cream colored shorts down your soft legs.

"what do you mean?" you asked, staring down at him through your lashes as goosebumps appeared all over the skin of your thighs from his fleeting touches as he pulled your white lacy panties off slowly.

"you, baby." he states simply, running one slender finger through your wet folds. you hissed at his touch, lulling your head to the side as you rested on your plush bunny lying on your bed, discreetly turning it over so it was facing the covers and not witnessing your lewd acts.

he spread your thighs further apart, kneading the skin as he licked a long strip across your slit, making you jolt.

"it's ok baby" he said softly, grabbing your hand for you to have something to hold onto as he watched you grasp the air near his head, not feeling the normal soft locs you were used to due to his recent haircut.

he began to drape your legs over his shoulders, pushing them against your chest as you whimpered, looking at you sternly as he used his large biceps to keep you pinned down.

he bowed his head down, the sound of him spitting offensively making its way to your ears as he took his finger and spread his salvia all over your pussy.

he shushed condescendingly and he entered his first finger into you, watching closely as it disappeared in you. "good girl, you're doin' so good for me yea?"

you nodded quickly at his question, feeling him kiss your clit once before diving in and moving his tongue all around your pussy. he pumped his finger in and out and he collected all your juices, eating you out like a starved man.

"god i love this pussy, so good to me" rafe says to himself, pushing you down further as he pushes another finger into you, making you squirm.

the coil in the bottom of your tummy tightens, getting closer and closer to exploding as he keeps sucking on your clit. your legs shake over his shoulders, making him to chuckle against you, vibrations pulsating through you from his actions.

your eyes squeezed your eyes shut, bringing your hands up to his biceps and pushing your acrylics so hard into him they were sure to leave marks, but he didn't care.

"you gonna cum for me baby?" he asked looking up at you, his lips puffy and slick with your juices.

you bit your now chapped lips as you nodded eagerly, his fingers how speeding up inside of you.

"o-oh my god rafe" you moaned, trying to pull away from him subconsciously but his arms not letting you move an inch. "c'mon sweet girl, give it to me"

your eyes rolled back and you came, his fingers and tongue working you through your orgasm as you squealed, thankful your parents weren't home for the evening.

"so, so sweet. love the taste of this pussy" rafe sighed, not making a move to stop after you had came, causing fat tears to roll down your cheeks from overstimulation.

"how many more do you think you can give me ma?"

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