A/n; This Will Have A Couple Parts. I Haven't Finished Part One Of S4, But This Is Loosely From What

Ft OBX and the Bahamas finest

Barracuda wasn't that bad, but he's not good either.

Excluding Barry and Rafe, I will happily throw Topper and Kelce's irrelevant ass in next poll.

And Papa Heyward was the best

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

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

Word count; 1.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was you, not Barry.

You were a distraction, to him and Barry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was enough to inspire good behavior.

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

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

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

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

Content warning: Rafe being horny, little foreplay, lots of grabbing, kissing, takes place at your place, lots of teasing, established relationship, tit play

Summary: sexy time with a twist

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You were in the bathroom, hiking your favorite underwear up your legs, trying to capture the sensuality they do on screen when the doorbell rang throughout your living room catching your attention.

With one final draw up your thighs you pulled the waistline up, resting the elastic hem against your skin, twirling on the tips of your toes, looking back, giving your ass a little shake on the way out. You dropped the t-shirt from under your chin, smacking the lights with with your palm, entering the dark.

You skipped over to the door, careful to dodge an obstacles that may have been waiting for you. Successfully making it to the door, you twisted the knob to reveal in all his 6'2 glory, your handsome boyfriend leaning against the doorframe.

You flicked on the dull porch light just to see his face, his eyes trailing down to your shirt, noticing the faint presence of your breasts, your nipples poking at the fabric freely.

"Expecting someone else?" He asked, watching you acan him from head to toe.

"Just looking," you sassed, throwing your arms around him, the action further confirming his suspicion when he felt your chest press against him, your arms sweeping beneath his, connecting around his back.

His hands came to rest on your lower back, his fingers deafly sweeping over the end of your shirt.

You let go ever so slowly, retracing your action, but instead of letting go your pinkie slips through his index and you reel him in, pulling him toward you.

Your shirt swayed teasingly as you twirled keeping him locked in your grasp, the change providing a good view to the white panties outlining the curve of your ass.

Rafe's lip curled at the silent promise of a treat.

"Turn the light off behind you," you said, waving at the row of switches. He took his time, memorizing the art before him, one he wouldn't mind adding a couple more strokes to.

He did as told, letting the dark envelop the house once more, following you to your single bedroom.

He wasted bo time, shoving you on to your mattress, your instincts making sure you landed on hands and knees, ass up, facing him. Full access as he wanted.

"Wait," you exclaimed, crawling away from the edge of the bed, making room on the other side.

"What?" He questioned, his hands pulling at your comforter in an attempt to guide you back over to him.

He was so needy when he knew he was getting action. Sometimes he took his time, but any other he got right down to business.

You flipped onto your back, sitting up against the pile of pillows behind you, an iron grip fell on Rafe's collar, his stature falling level to you in seconds.

He was still tall, even on his knees, struggling to maintain his posture as you pulled him forward so you moved your legs making more room for him, your knees folded against his ribs as your lips connected.

Once he was steady he hooked his cool fingers beneath your knee, shifting the whole situation to have him beneath you while he selfishly tugged at your clothes.

Things got heated quick, shirts got removed, and mouths got to work, his tongue swirling around your sensitive stump, his warm mouth closing around, teeth sinking into the doughy flesh. His palm kneed the other pinching it, flicking his thumb to sooth over the stinging.

He was so entranced by you he cupped them in entirety and just squeezed, thrusting his erection further up, now digging into the damp cloth between your legs. When he pulled away from your tit he kissed the other, and lowered you to the mattress, following suit, his body cared yours.

"Is that.." kiss, "enough.." slip of the tongue tickling through roof of your mouth, "break?"

If you didn't combust right there, melting to the heat applied to all senses.

Finally he was moving where he really wanted, from your hardened nipples, down your stomach, feeling it tighten further down.

His index circled your waistline before he sank in, making you hiss at his cold ring dragging against your pelvic bone.

"The fuck are these?" He grumbled, curling the fabric around his finger, pulling it, letting it snap back against you making you flinch.

"Huh?" You were steadying yourself on your elbow, watching him pull at but not move the panties.

This wasn't the first time he had sex with you, and definitely not the first time he's had to strip you to get you where he wanted.

"the hell is this shit?" He repeated louder, repeating the motion of.

"Rafe, what?" You pulled away, scooted up into a seat, resting your knees to your chest and arms stacked to cover your partial nudity.

"That's not what you usually wear," "and that has what to do with this?"

In all honesty this wasn't where you thought it would end up going, and you're still unsure of how it got to this point.

"What is it?"

You're aware that his last relationships he's probably had girls dress up for him, and you do that occasionally, but Rafe doesn't usually care as long as he can relieve himself or you.

He's acting like a kid discovering porn, "comfortable is what it is."

"But why? You're young and pretty, don't you want to look like it?" He gestured towards the underwear. They were a little bigger than the average cut, they offered decent coverage and went high, and they resembled a diaper shape wise, but that shouldn't matter if they're coming off.

"What's wrong with these?"

"They're granny panties," you could hear the disapproval in his voice.

Did he want you to get rid of them or what? You only had one question, letting a silence creep between the two of you. They even have lace, not a whole lot, but enough.

"Are we still doing this or?" And he let your question linger, he shifted, his head shaking, hand coming to his face in contemplation.

You grumbled, swinging your feet over the edge of the bed, he sat up, still thinking to himself while you scooted off the bed.

He turned his head for a second, watching you gather your shirt and hold your breasts out of sight with an arm, pulling it over your head.

You slowed your movements hoping he gave you an answer of some sort, but he kept watch, so you left him in the dark, disappearing into the bathroom.

You closed the door behind you, turning the light on, Rafe heard you moving around and was drawn back your way by the creaky door.

Your hip leaned against the doorframe, your fingers pinching your shirt up to reveal you had changed into black lace, thinly cut that would potentially give you a wedgie.

He visibly perked up, tilting his head at you, itching to come forward.

You approached the bed, walking slowly, crawling towards him, stopping at his lap, you brought your legs beside him, straddling him, letting the rest of you relax against him.

"Let's try this again," you offered, delicately pecking his lips.

You let him undress you again, this time with the aid of the lace, he still slipped them down to your ankles.

"Thought you wanted those," you pointed out, finally feeling his fingers dig into your core.

"Eh," he shrugged, "visually."

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A/n; for a second you had him like...

The last one is debatable, but if majority wins...

Rafe is definitely tender-headed, but there was something irresistible about the way your nails sank into his scalp, desperately clawing at his hair that had him in literal tears.

He's a whimpering mess, hastily rutting into you, adrenaline coursing through him while you yanked at his dark strands, his face buried into your neck because he refuses to be caught crying as he empties himself into you.

His high fading with him rubbing his spent member on your sticky inner thighs, pressing stuttering kisses against your collarbone.

It was perfect, one of the best things about sex with Rafe, it worked every time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What do you mean you want to cut your hair?"

Your voice rang out through the speaker of Rafe's car, the bass was so loud you could almost hear your shock return through the stereo.

Rafe leaned his head back against the driver’s seat, a hand resting on the gear shift, the other running over his hair, a smile he tried to suppress cracking through as he heard you panic.

When he didn't respond back you switched the audio call to a video, the request popping up on his screen.

"Please tell me you're joking," you were unsure, seeing him snicker in the front seat, while he kept his eyes on the road.

Was he serious about that? If so, why?

He cleared his throat, fixing his eyes on you, paused in real time.

Your hair was wrapped, secure in a nice scarf, and you were in a white tee, your arms propping your head up, but also squishing your breasts together while the rested against the counter.

His tongue slides over his lower lip, pulling it back into a smile before he answered. "I wanna try something different," that answered about as many questions were asked, but of course you had more.

You were trying to get to the bottom of this because when he left that morning, literally two hours ago, that wasn't even on his schedule.

"You know what? I'm gonna see you when you get home," this had to be dealt with in person. "Mmhm, see you when you get here."

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"Why would you ever want to get rid of this?" Your fingers raked through sweaty locs, pushing stray stands out of his face, sweeping them back into a firm grasp.

He winced, a whimper rolling from his parted lips as he sheathed himself into you trying to find sanctuary in your gummy walls.

The pain shifted into adrenaline, and Rafe had that same look in his eye, when he's bordering tears, his irises darken, and his bottom lip get tucked between his teeth, doing nothing to hide his heavy panting letting you know he was close.

"Damn baby," he exclaimed, resisting your clutch, "you keep gripping my shit like that and I may not have to wait,"

And you did, your grip tightened when he threatened to wiggled free, but it was loosing traction when he latched his lips to your nipples, nibbling on them, and soothing it over with his tongue.

His strong arms dipped beneath you, stacking against your lower back as he pressed his face further into your chest, sinking his teeth into various spots.

He rutted his hips against yours feverishly, squeezing your body against his with every thrust while you worked to sooth the sting of your iron grip with kisses to his forehead. Sweet nothings whispered to him coaxing his climax as he pumped into you. Pushing you further into the mattress, arching your back against his arms, your legs around his waist, and his tall frame blanketing over you while his dick twitched against your folds, pumping himself inside you as he pulled out.

The two of you were a heated mess, Rafe holding one arm tucked behind you, the other came to rest on your stomach, staying between your legs, his elbow towards your hip, shallowly breathing against your skin, he hummed while you massaged his scalp, each delicate stroke a parting gift.

Last two are SERIOUSLY debatable, but peoples choice, so choose wisely.

Word count: 1402

A/n; I'm proud of this (hope I did this properly) tiny last minute editing.

Warnings; bad day, angst with a happy ending, Rafe being boyfriend material pet name (pretty girl) hurt x comfort

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Rafe Cameron, prideful, persistent, and above all punctual.

Admirable, aggravating.

When Rafe texted you and said he was coming by, you knew that meant 10 minutes max, before he would be knocking on your door.

You were paniced, reasonably so. You had just stepped out of what was supposed to be a relaxing shower, your skin pricked with goosebumps as the cold air hit your exposed skin.

10 minutes, and here you were debating if you wanted to respond or not, but anything was better than staying at that house any longer.

Love would not be enough restraint for you if you had to deal with another one of your family's feuds.

It soon hit you that time was ticking, your hands tossing your phone into the pile of pajamas you were in earlier as you quickly got to work dying yourself off.

As soon as he approached the porch you appeared in the doorway, a soft smile tugged at his lips seeing you standing there.

Hips leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, and your beautiful face staring expectantly into the distance.

Even still he walked up the creaky steps, hands open to relieve you, but when you remained planted, eyesight shifting towards his polo, the closed collar underlining his broad chest, and muscles caught your gaze.

He countered the hug within distance, slugging an arm around your shoulder, he leaned down, pressing his cold lips against your heated skin, causing your cheeks to bubble, lips pursing in a supressed smile. "Missed me didn't you?" He cooed, the keychain circling his index jiggled, the tip of his finger teasing the underside of your jaw.

You stiffened at the action, taking the first step forward, muttering a quiet 'sure'.

"Ahha," he chuckled dryly, following your lead.

Even if you didn't share the enthusiasm he was happy to see you.

You approached the car, Rafe cutting you off mid step to pull back the handle, the dark paint job facing you now as you scoffed playfully circling the door.

"After you milady," You rolled your eyes at his antics, kicking one foot into the car, the other followed by your chin pressing sharply into your chest as you ducked the roof of the car, settling side.

You wiggled in your seat, immediately reaching for the seatbelt, pulling it smoothly across your chest.

You let out a breath you were holding. Had it got stuck or you couldn't adjust it just right and you had to wrestle it, you'd scrap the whole car. Even if it wasn't yours, you were especially fragile right now.

Rafe got in the driver’s side, the engine roared to life at the twist of his hand, a triumphant grin crossed his face, his nose scrunching as he did so, looking at you excitedly.

Would it be rude to ask why he was so...energetic...today?

The answer?

He saw it.

Through his tinted shades currently sitting in his cupholder.

The attitude in your body language, the shift of weight from one leg to the other, the strain in your formerly guarded form, the unhappiness in your features, and especially the wrinkles siding beside the corner of your eyes. They weren't from smiles, but from heavy glaring.

And smiles would be evident in the way your cheeks pigmented a visible tone after long periods of laughter, and how puffy the corners of your mouth got.

It didn't at all sound attractive when he brought it up to you, but he explained his admiration for your joyous nature, and how when you smiled you smiled big.

And despite your objection in his words, your lips wavered, peeling back into the corners of your face, showing him just what he thought to be true.

"Did you..." You paused, his attention immediately turning on you. "Have you been hanging around Barry again?" Was the only respectful way you could ask.

He didn't take offense, instead braced his hands against the steering wheel, "No," he drew out, putting the car in reverse.

You nodded, awkwardly placing your hands in your lap.

At first being home free helped. Something about the drive around, loud music, and sea salt in the air had made you forget the knot swelling inside various places.

Just as progress was made a flip switched.

It was the song playing on the radio. Something you didn't care to remember because you felt it.

Those sick, unwell feelings form in the pit of your stomach at the words, and now more than ever a raw intensity pulling within you drawing you back to a place of anger.

A place of hurt.

Rafe noticed at first, it was subtle. The head nodding, rolling your eyes as he turned the volume up. He paid attention.

He knew these.

He knew you.

Then a couple miles down, you were singing along, looking as you did do, but he could feel you loosening up.

But just as fast as it appeared it stopped.

He turned the music down, hoping you would continue, but you didn't.

Back to silent nodding and now something else. Your eyes. They were blinking... rapidly.

Now he knew something was up. Something heavy.

Little did he know the events of the morning lingered a dense electric gray over your head, and rain would soon pour from your clouded irises.

"Did something happen? You're all sad and,"

"And shit," you responded, tilting your head back.

"Yeah... all sad and...shit," as you had not so eloquently put it.

"It's nothing," by now it was everything.

"That doesn't sound right," he countered, his foot applied pressure towards the break, the wind breaking acceleration had decreased to the speed limit at best.

And you held back a couple of tears, but that didn't stop strays, warm against your skin. You could feel a burning in the top of your nose, and a climbing temperature around your ears indicating you were about to cry.

"Do you want to talk about it? I can listen," he offered.

You simply sniffled, you palmed up, roughly pushing against your skin, wiping tears. "Do you even know where we're going? We've passed that same park like three times," you said referring to the open field with 101 benches placed too close together.

Sometimes your deflection could be ignoring his question, answering vaguely, or in this case, insulting his navagation skills.

"No, no," he played along, "That's the country club, it's got an expansion, pretty much every road has a view of it."

That actually makes sense now.

Still.

He continued to examine you, your body language.

It was just as tense as before, if not more.

Your little breakdown had only gone on for a quick minute and then you were back to being stone.

If only he could turn you into statue.

Unlike your earlier suggestion before you the dizzy world had slowed and vision returned.

Not before the sight of a concerned smile, his hand parked over the steering wheel, the other resting on the armrest, his torso twisted to meet you.

This time he didn't try to convince you, he let his sad, pretty eyes manipulate you into a sharing state.

"It's just not my day today," you confessed, a little bob in your head confirming that.

"Well, we can change that," his ringed fingers found there ways rubbing against your salted skin swiping tears.

He leaned forward, his lips pressing to your cheekbone, lingering over your skin, the edge of his nose rubbing up the bridge of yours, traveling kisses planted on you in various spots.

He made it to your hair, letting out a hum, tilting his head against yours, making himself level with you, you looked up through your eyelashes to find his comforting gaze on you already, promising better.

Amist the intimate gesture he leaned into it, his elbow honking against the wheel, a bold whistle vibrated through the car, making you jump.

You felt his long lashes tickle your cheek, an embarrassed sigh left him, his forehead still pressed against your face.

And while he thought the accidental honking had ruined the slow, intimate vibe, it tickled you.

His reaction of resignation and reserveness had made it better, and you couldn't hide the smile on your face, the peaks of your teeth peering through and a hearty laugh escaping you.

Rafe carefully kissed your jaw once more, slipping back into his seat, both hands holding the seatbelt at the chest, as he was still fixated on you.

You were smiling.

Rafe made a face, to which he followed up with "there she is," and the mellowness of his tone was enough to make you melt.

"There's my pretty girl."

Yall chose Topper over JJ over POPE??!!! And poor JB, damn. Give these men (not Topper) the love they deserved

The last one is debatable, but if majority wins...

(Austin by Dasha) applied to reader x Rafe

Why do I see it?

(Coming soon)