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MEET… CHERRYLICIOUS RINAㆍ twenty-one ㆍ she / they ㆍ real freakㆍrafe’s bunny. dean’s angel. nat’s girl.ㆍ your obsession with rocks and brown and fucking the whole town’s a reflection on your mental health.ㆍcowboys, white wine & lipstick stains.
check out the library & website guidelines. requests? open! 𐙚₊˚⊹🍒
are you shy? pairing: reader x bsf!rafe synopsis: reader's first time on camera — and her first time. warnings: smut, MDNI! - wc: 300 a/n; sorry y’all your girl is having writer’s block again so more old fics!! originally posted 12/16/2024
"are you shy?" he chuckled, pulling you closer to him by your waist. you were shy, but you didn't want him knowing that. rafe was more experienced, his first... experience being years ago, but you didn't want him to know you were a virgin. "what's up?"
"nothing!" you managed to stutter out, both of you still getting your clothes off, rafe's phone haphazardly set on his dresser to record you two as, hislips pressed against your stomach as he made your bra come undone, his lips slowly moving closer and closer to your nipples.
"you sure?" he mumbled against your skin, your body still lost in ecstasy, simply nodding as you allowed him to tug down your panties, your brain still trying to catch up with the fact that you were in rafe's bed.
"god, you're gorgeous..." rafe mumbled against your skin, and the moment his tongue connected with your clit, it caused you to let out a moan that felt like you'd been holding it in for centuries.
"that feel good?" he mumbled, sucking on your clit, one of his fingers moving to your slick entrance, "i'm gonna make you feel so good..."
"w-wait!"
the moment those words left your lips, rafe paused, still holding onto your hips as he gazed up at you, "what's up?" left his lips, covered in your slick.
"i just..." you sighed, watching as his brows furrowed, "i just wanted you to know i'm a virgin."
you waited for his reaction, only for a chuckle to leave his lips; now it was your turn to be confused, your brows furrowing.
"who'd you think was keeping the guys away from you, huh?"
april fools is really no fun if you have insane lore, a solid pokerface and you’re known to do random shit just for the bit
i told my friends yesterday i needed to go to the pharmacy because i needed a pregnancy test because i was renting out my womb to a rich couple under the table and i needed to see if it worked this time
they just said they couldn’t tell if i was being serious or not
late night needs ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟
warnings — perv!bsf!rafe, reader is oblivious, rafe being well…rafe, mention of panty stealing, male masturbation, phone sex (?) a/n — reupload & edited (originally posted: 5/13) my first rafe blurb from my old blog, so it felt fitting for it to be the first one on here <3
it was two in the morning when you woke up to the sound of your phone going off. you grabbed your phone, squinting as you looked to see several missed calls from your best friend, rafe. just as you're about to call him back, your phone rings again. "rafe?" you mutter as you answer the call, but all you can hear is heavy breathing. "hello?" you call out again, and there's a small pause, "yeah, 's me" his voice is low, "i've been trying to reach you all night".
"it's two in the morning," you groan, your eyes struggling to stay open. "just wanted to talk to my best friend, 's all," he breathes heavily, "hold on, let me facetime you". before you can get a word out, he switches the call to a facetime call, which, of course, you accept. as soon as he appears on the screen of your phone, you take notice that he's in his bed, sitting up against his headboard. he holds his phone at an angle that shows his face and down to his shirtless chest.
“why are you up?” your brows furrowed, earning a small chuckle from him. “what? i'm not allowed to want to talk to you?" rafe snorted, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes, “at two in the morning?” there was a pause, and you could’ve sworn you heard the faint sound of heavy breathing but brushed it off. “just got somethin’ on my mind,” he added.
his comment makes you sit up and reach for the bedside lamp. as soon as you turn it on, the light illuminates your features, giving him a clear look at your pretty face. his breathing was heavy, and he was thankful you were too oblivious to hear the wet sounds filling his room as his hand moved up and down his cock. his eyes flickered to your lips as you talked, wondering what it'd feel like to have those plump lips wrapped around his thick cock instead of his hand.
for as long as rafe has known you, he always knew you as the most oblivious little thing he had ever encountered; you never knew what was happening around you. truth be told, it turned him on even more, knowing that you had no clue what he was doing on the other side of the call. "wanna talk about what's on your mind?" you question, "no, s'okay. just talk, wanna hear you talk," rafe grunts, "you always know how to make me feel better". you eagerly nodded; no matter what, you'd do anything to make him feel better. he was your best friend, after all.
he wasn’t fully paying attention to what you were saying; his mind was too focused on imagining how you’d sound under him as he fisted his length faster, and god, deep down, he knew you’d make the prettiest fucking sounds for him. as much as he loved listening to your voice and seeing your pretty little face, he desperately needed more. he needed to feel you, be closer to you. luckily, he had the perfect thing that was somewhat close to feeling you wrapped around him.
he stopped for a second, unwrapping his hand from around himself before reaching into his pillowcase and pulling out a pair of your lace panties that he had stolen from your room when he was over last time. he knew it wasn't anywhere near to what your cunt would feel like, but it was the closest thing he had. he wrapped the pair of lace around the base of his cock, slowly stroking himself again. "fuck" he groans; his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. "everything okay?" your voice rings through his ears, "mhm, everything's good" he mutters, "so fuckin' good."
"what are you doing?" you ask curiously, unaware of what he's actually doing. "just takin' care of something, nothing your pretty little head should worry about," he grunts, his hand moving faster as he opens his eyes to look at you while you were too busy paying attention to god knows what. he bites his lip, his hand moving faster around his cock. the feeling of your panties wrapped around his cock, your voice, and the sight of you were all starting to get to him, and he could feel himself getting close.
"look at me," rafe commanded with heavy-lidded eyes, his hand never slowing down. "hm?" you stopped what you were doing to look at him. "oh fuck," he moaned, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes rolling back, and his lower abdomen clenching before spurts of his thick cum coat the delicate lace.
"are you sure you're okay, rafe?" you tilt your head, observing his chest heaving. "yeah, 'm more than okay now," he mutters, staring at the now-ruined pair of panties. "actually, think i could come over and spend the night? s'been a while since i slept over."
talking about a writer in my inbox is useless they literally found human remains and evidence of cannibalism in my LA home that i sold in 2013 i’m not gonna claim moral high ground
i’m sorry if this is insensitive but i couldn’t care less about online drama (especially one that doesn’t involve me) i’m not 14 and this is not teaspill on youtube and i’m gonna block every anon like this from now on because most of the time i come here to escape from my problems, not to add onto them and play online cop.
the world pulled the shittiest april fools prank on me by making me see my abuser / the guy that caused my ptsd for the first time in four years when i was finally having a good day making me dissociate for my entire time hanging out with my friends lol
i was hoping someone had stabbed that shitbag already
would it be self-indulgent to write about rafe killing reader’s ex <3
───vampire!dean and buffy!reader: language, mentions knives and kissing:
dean shouldn’t want this.
shouldn’t crave the sharp kiss of silver against his skin, shouldn’t shudder at the way it burns through his undead veins like liquid fire.
but it's you—standing over him, blade gleaming in the dark and low light, lips curled in something between a smirk and a challenge.
his smirk mirrors yours, lazy and shameless, fangs peeking past his lips. “gonna kill me, baby?”
your fingers tighten around the hilt of the knife. “thinking about it.”
he chuckles, the sound dark and low, hands resting casually on your hips. “aw, and here i thought we had something special.”
you roll your eyes, but your smirk doesn’t waver. because you do have something special. because you shouldn’t be straddling a vampire, much less being in love with one (this is after he gets bitten). shouldn’t let his hands roam your thighs, shouldn’t let him pull you closer like he’s inviting you to sin right along with him.
and you definitely shouldn’t be humoring this sick little game of his. but you do. the tip of the silver knife presses just under his jaw, right against that spot where his pulse should be. he hisses, back arching, fingers digging into you as his whole body shudders beneath you. you laugh, tilting your head. “you like this.”
his breathing is ragged, fangs dragging over his lower lip. “maybe I do.”
you press a little harder, just enough for his skin to sear. the scent of burning flesh curls in the air, but dean just groans, eyes fluttering shut. “you’re sick,” you whisper, but you’re smiling when you say it.
his grip on you tightens, hips pressing up against yours. “and you’re still here.”
he’s right. you should stop. you should pull away.
but instead, you drag the flat of the blade down his throat, over the collar of his open shirt, tracing searing lines against his chest.
his whole body jerks at the contact, and he makes a sound that’s way too wrecked for someone being burned alive. “fuck—” he groans, head falling back, baring his throat to you. a silent invitation. “more, sweetheart”
your breath hitches. his hands slide up your spine, slow and deliberate, fangs grazing his lower lip as he watches you through dark, hungry eyes.
“you gonna stake me,” he rasps, “or you gonna kiss me?”
your answer is neither.
instead, you press the silver deeper, just enough to make him hiss—then you crush your lips against his, swallowing the sound whole. dean growls into your mouth, hands tangling in your hair, tugging you down like he needs you, like the burn of silver and the press of your body are the same kind of ache.
he tastes like blood and complete sin, like something you should run from but never will.
the knife trembles in your grip, caught between his chest and your palm, burning both of you now.
but neither of you pull away. not yet 𑁥౿
PLEATHHHHHH sexual tension who
