ilyrafe

[ilyrafe]

★ observing rafe cameron x reader

summary: you were trying everything to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop staring at rafe, unbeknownst to you - he was secretly hoping you were

a/n: this is a surfer!rafe x shy!reader btw!! also this is like pretty much my first ever fanfic so I have no idea what the fuck I am doing so sorry if this is literal ass 😭 no mention of a fem!reader besides the fact that the womans bathroom gets entered

you felt the heat of the sun on your skin as you stepped out of the twinkie. the soft crash of the distant waves barely audible over the hum of the pogues voices

stepping onto the beach, a surge of excitement hits you. the day you and the pogues have been counting down to all week has finally arrived

you take one final glance into your bag, double-checking for anything you might have forgotten—sunscreen, snacks, a book, and a few other trinkets, satisfied you make your way over to your usual spot ready to take off your tshirt and shorts which hid your swim wear underneath, until you spotted someone out of the corner of your eye

rafe cameron

somehow the kooks had managed to pick the exact same date, place and time to visit the beach as you and your friends

while the others were hastly running towards the water stripping on the way down, paying no attention to the kooks, kie stayed back waiting for you

she was already in her bikini while your clothes weren’t even close to leaving your body and landing on the ground

''you coming?'' she asked, hand on her forehead shielding her from the burning sun

''umm'', taking a quick glance around you searched the beach in a, hopefully, unsuspicious way trying to locate rafe again

glancing down you turned your gaze elsewhere, you hoped the sudden heat entering your body was from the sun and not from the sight of rafe taking his shirt off

''I’ll join you guys later, I’m a little dizzy right now'', you spoke swiftly looking up at her, hoping to not get caught in the little white lie

all though kie nodded, the flicker of confusion in her eyes and a quick look behind you told you all you needed to know

you had never verbally stated your attraction to the him but you were pretty sure almost anybody could’ve guessed with the way you tensed up or seemed quieter and clumsier whenever he was in close proximity

taking off your top and shorts you shot a look over to the pogues who were already splashing and practically drowning each other. you giggled while settling down onto your beach towel before applying sunscreen and laying down on your stomach with a book in hand

even though your book was very interesting, the sight in front of you was much more enticing

rafe was currently riding a pretty common wave, yet you found yourself unable to stop staring

you adjusted your book hoping to hide the fact that you were practically ogling at the cameron boy

he was far enough out that you couldn’t make out the details but you still caught the way his hair stuck to his face, the way his body twisted with the rythm of the wave and the way he… kept turning his head towards you?

it seemed like he was looking for you, looking to see if you were watching him

cheeks burning, you try to push your delusions aside trying to find the passage you were reading earlier

you take another peek at him and by the the time you do, he was already out of the water, walking towards his friends with the biggest fucking grin, beaming with pride and confidence, already seeming to rave about the wave he just rode

hearing jj’s laugh you swiftly adjust and pretend to be reading your book that was definitely more interesting than staring at rafe’s wet body and stupid grin

while jj kept whining about how john b, supposedly, almost drowned him they both settled down on your left, luckily on the side where the kooks were lounging

fortunately he also kept talking which meant you were able to peep right past his face and steal short glances towards rafe

it was almost impossible for you to keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter where you would see him, you were always stealing glances or simply staring at him from a distance. others could call this stalking but you liked to call it observing, you liked watching him, but not in a creepy way, more so you were admiring him, he was pretty

you liked his side profile, the way his bangs framed his face, the way his eyes looked in the sun, the way his shirts hung onto his fit body - you noticed the way he was very articulate with his hands, which were always adorned with the same two rings, the way the corner of his lips turned downwards whenever he tried not to smile

noticing him facing you, eyeing your group, the staring quickly stopped

at this point the distance between the two groups was too small for your liking because of course the kooks had to settle down as closely as possible to the pogues - it was somehow impossible for them to keep their distance

given the short distance, whenever you actually were brave enough to look again it seemed like he was meeting your gaze, trying to maintain eye contact

heart beating way too fast and cheeks burning, you turn away from jj trying to initiate a conversation with sarah, who was sitting on your right

after a while of, luckily, managing to keep your head from spinning towards him, to meet his gaze - aside from the occasional looks to jj or john b whenever they were contributing to the conversation - you were desperate to get up, to empty your bladder

you dreaded getting up, fully aware that the beach bar was situated just behind the kooks, it meant walking past rafe and the mere thought of that unnerved you - every step would make you acutely aware of your surroundings, mind racing, until the very thought of moving felt like it might turn your legs into jelly

examining the scene quickly you notice half of the kooks gone, including rafe, they must’ve left when you weren’t looking - you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders while also immediately feeling a certain misery overtaking you

this unrequited crush was spiraling out of control

strutting over to the bar you take notice of ruthie with another girl sitting at one of the tables and kelce talking to the bartender seeming to be cracking jokes instead of ordering

walking past them you try to keep your gaze relatively low to avoid any sort of interaction. turning into the small hallway of the bar you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding

the calmness doesn’t last long because as you round the corner to reach the toilets you spot him, standing in front of the mens bathroom, phone in hand and looking quite bored

before you get the chance to look away he lifts his head and notices you, he smiles - you smile back, a very awkward smile

relatively quickly you turn your head away and enter the women’s bathroom. your head becoming a blur, suddenly already washing your hands ready to leave the bathroom

he must’ve left already, right?

''topper are you fucking coming, man?!'', you catch rafe through the door

your plan of immediately leaving and paying him no mind, began to falter two seconds after stepping out of the bathroom

''hey, y/n'', you hear from behind you, shit

you freeze up for a second, caught off guard, before composing yourself and turning around

immediately drawn to him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair had dried in quite a messy way, his slightly squinted eyes and the slight smirk splayed across his face

''how are you?'' he questions before you had the chance to greet him back

''I’m doing fine'', you manage to exclaim, nearly tripping over your words before adding the usual ''and you?''

you dig in your mind trying to recall the last time you’d exchanged words beyond the usual "hi" or "hey''

''ditto'',

apparently not completely satisified with your answer, he regards you for a moment, the stare causing a warmth to creep up your neck as you shifted uneasily

''why did your friends leave you all alone over there?'', rafe inquired with a raised brow - a hint of curiosity in his tone, ''they seemed to be enjoying themeselves''

letting out a soft exhale you answer him, attempting to maintain eye contact but faltering almost immediately, ''I wasn’t feeling so good'' was all you manage to muster before adding the word, ''dizzy'' in a rather whispered voice, as you lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t see through it

if he did, he didn’t let on ''are you feeling better now?’'

you nod quickly, meeting his gaze

looking up at him with those almost innocent eyes, he can’t help but offer, ''are you sure? I can get you a glass of water'', an unrecognisable sweetness laced his voice, softening his usual edge

taken aback by his unexpected offer you hesitate before denying his offer by simply shaking your head

he let out a quiet snort, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you struggle to give a simple answer

''what book were you reading?'', he asked, his smirk widening as he leaned further back into the wall, clearly amused at the way the conversation was turning into a playful interrogation, as if he found some strange satisfaction in making you squirm just a little bit

you froze, your mind going blank, searching for the title before realising you genuinely couldn’t remember, maybe because you weren’t actually reading the book

like a savior, topper emerged from the bathroom, a flicker of confusion passing across his face as he scanned the scene before moving past you both, muttering a quiet "let’s go," clearly directed at rafe

for a split second, it looked like frustration crossed rafe’s face, fleeting before you could overthink it, flashing you a smile he pushed himself off the wall and made his way past you

but before he completely disappeared out of view, he turned back with a smirk and called over his shoulder,

''hope you enjoyed the show earlier''

oh

[ilyrafe]

rafe coming home from morocco.

ᥫ᭡ this is straight smut! 18+ only!

rafe had been off in morocco, helping the pogues — yeah i know, you were shocked too — to find the blue crown. rafe mainly went with to find groff but ended up helping the pogues find the blue crown as well. it’s been far too long, there’s been lack of phone calls from rafe. you stayed up late every single night, all alone in your and rafe’s massive shared bed, worried sick about him.

so when rafe finally came home after far too long, it didn’t take long for the two of you to be wrapped up in each other, his cock thrusting in and out of your soaked cunt. you two were sat on his expensive furniture on his large back patio. his hands were splayed out on your back, his eyes watching yours as you bounced up and down on his cock.

“tell me how much you missed me, princess. tell daddy how much you missed him.” a small smirk forming on rafe’s lips. his hands tighten in your back, his fingers digging into your soft skin. “come on, princess. use your words, i know you can do it.” rafe encourages with a grunt as you bounced away on his cock to your hearts content. your eyes flick to rafe’s your face contorted in pleasure. “i missed you so much, daddy. i worried about you every single night and all i could dream about was how you were gonna fuck me when you got home.”

rafe groaned in approval, his hands moving from your back to your hips. his large hands gripped your hips tightly, the cool metal of his ring making your skin jump. “fuuuck, baby.” rafe moaned, pistoning his thick cock in and out of your leaking pussy. the wet squelching noise heard loudly despite being outside. “i missed you so fucking much. the only thing that kept me going was getting home to this sweet pussy.”

your cried out his name in response, his cock mercilessly driving into your needy cunt. he was making up for the time he lost, making up for how many times he thought about you and your pussy while he was away. which to be honest, was way too much to even count. rafe knew if he didn’t get home to you soon, he honestly would’ve killed anyone who looked at him sideways. the sexual frustration he had on that trip and not being able to jerk off was really testing his fucking patience… a dangerous thing for someone with practically no patience whatsoever.

“that’s it, baby. take this fucking cock. you deserved it, didn’t you? being all alone in our big house, worried sick about me every single night? you poor girl. just couldn’t wait for daddy to get home and stuff you full of his cock, hmm?” rafe teased, his words undoubtedly making your walls clench around him. rafe grunts, his hands tightening on your hips at the feeling of you tightening around him. “fuck, your pussy is squeezing my cock like a vice.”

your nails dug into rafe’s shoulders, his hips jackhammering up into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. your breasts bounced with each thrust, his pubic bone hitting your clit perfectly with each thrust. your orgasm was close, so fucking close… but you knew rafe wasn’t done with you anytime soon and you also knew you weren’t ready for him to stop. this is what the both of you wanted. all night long.

“i was off, practically fighting for my life just so i could come home to my girl and fuck her stupid.”

[ilyrafe]

the first time drew saw actress!reader.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── when drew was forced by madelyn to come watch this new show with her and the rest of the cast he didn’t expect to have his heart captured by the mesmerising woman on the screen.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place in 2023 during the filming of obx 4 which is when game of thrones started airing in my timeline also actress!reader is anywhere between 19-22 years old.

drew was sprawled across the couch in his hotel room, aimlessly scrolling. after a long day of filming under the hot and heavy sun of morocco, he had no intention of doing anything that required effort. his plan was to simply scroll until his eyes got heavy and he knocked out, but knowing his insomnia that wouldn’t be until the early hours of the morning.

glancing at the time displayed on his phone ten pm it read, he let out a heavy sigh, though his body ached with exhaustion, his mind would not shut off. but before he could put down his phone and try to force himself to sleep, a knock sounded on the door “yeah?”

“drew! its maddie.”

“maddie?” he spoke softly, what’s she doing up at this time. usually she was asleep the moment she got back to the hotel. “come in, its open.”

she came tumbling through the door, coming to a stop in front of the couch where he laid. drew couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched her. “what’s up?”

“drew! you gotta come watch this new show with us!” her hands were placed on her hips as she looked down at him.

drew sighed, a noise of exhaustion. “i can’t be fucked getting up, cline.” her face scrunched up, ready to dispute him.

“drew you have to! the last episode of season one just came out and i watched the first episode when it aired and it was so good that i stopped watching so that we could binge it all when the season finished!”

recognition sparked on his face. “wait is this game of thrones? i remember you saying how good the first episode was, like two months ago.”

madelyn’s face grew excited at the fact that he remembered. “yeah! please please, you have to come watch it, jd, bailey, chase, laci, rudy and austin are already in my room waiting.”

drew mulled over the idea for a moment. either he could rot in his room until his call time tomorrow or hang out with his friends and possibly watch a good show, if maddie’s high praise was anything to go by.

“yeah, alright let’s go.” he stood up from the couch, stretching his arms and grabbing his phone to follow maddie, who was already halfway out the door, unable to wait any longer.

when they arrived at her room, the first episode was already lined up on the screen, the hbo logo blaring in the dark room. drew greeted everyone and then took a seat on the spare love seat by the window. “you guys get forced too?” he questioned.

“yup.” jd breathed out. “nah i’ve been wanting to watch this, i remember hearing about it when they started filming, it’s supposed to be like super graphic and vulgar.” madison commented. “shit, really? i know nothing about this show, other than the fact that cline can’t shut up about it.” austin added. chuckles sounded across the room, and madelyn yelled from the kitchen where the popcorn she was making turned in the microwave. “y’all are about to thank me!”

drew simply sat in silence, with the amount maddie was praising this show, his skepticism grew, no way this show was that good. someone pressed play as soon as madelyn was seated, he didn’t see who. the intro song of the show blasted through the room and drew settled back into his seat.

“yo, pass me the popcorn?” chase rolled up the back and chucked it across the room from where he was sat, drew caught it with ease.

he couldn’t lie, the show was good, fifteen minutes in and he was hooked. and just when he thought that it couldn’t get better, you came on the screen.

“holy fuck who is that?” jd’s voice rang out, but drew felt as though his voice came from somewhere far away. he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. “she’s beautiful right?” madelyn sighed out. mummers of agreement sounded from the people sitting in the room. “her name’s y/n y/l/n.”

“y/n” drew repeated to himself softly, almost as he was testing the feel of your name in his mouth. rolling the syllables on his tongue, in that moment he decided that no other word would ever compare to the way your name felt on his lips.

dressed in a flowing dress with daring cuts exposing your seemingly soft skin, he wondered what would it feel like if he ran his palms along the smooth expansion. your hair sliver, long and loose to play visenya targaryen, the last targaryen, the daughter of rhaegar targaryen and elia martell. drew felt as though no one had ever looked more stunning in the history of the world.

“drew? you all good man?” someone asked, he didn’t know who, he couldn’t hear or think of anything beyond you and the performance you were giving. “i think starkey’s got a crush.” rudy sang out, and the rest laughed. but drew couldn’t care less, too busy watching you.

they watched two more episodes and as the third episode came to an end drew finally broke out of his trance. while the rest occasionally made comments during the show drew could not tear himself away from the screen, afraid that if he looked away he would miss you.

“i gotta hand it to you, cline, i’m hooked. that shit was amazing!” carlacia grinned. “i fucking told you guys!” she retorted back. “but aside from that, starkey? what did you think?” she smirked at him.

“yeah, that was good.” drew’s body tingling “that’s it? just good? you don’t wanna talk about the moon eyes you were making every time visenya came on screen?” drew cheeks tinged pink. “yeah, she’s pretty.” “aye, shot your shot man, she’s so fine.” madison teased.

as drew made his way back to his room he looked at the time, two am, damn he didn’t even realise time had passed that quick. sliding into his bed after taking a quick shower, he couldn’t help himself but run a quick search of you on google. “fuck.” the soft curse slipping from his lips, just when he thought you couldn’t get hotter, he saw pictures of you, not in costume, naturally a brunette, he was so fucked. fuck it, he quickly searched up your name on instagram.

you were laying in bed scrolling through instagram when a notification popped up.

drewstarkey started following you. follow back?

first one, do you like it? if you do i’ll keep writing. reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated.

[ilyrafe]

a/n: since i have seen a lot of people ask for a part 2 :), keep in mind I am not that good at part 2s so please give me your honest opinions. hope you like it! credits: gifs are from @rafeyscurtainbangs and oyster pngs are from @saizun

part 1

boat aftermath

The storm hits harder without a warning.

One minute, the sky was clear, the ocean calm, the boat slicing through the waves with the group laughing...but that all changed in an instant.

A flash of lightning split the sky, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. The wind whipped through the air with the fury of a wild beast, and the once-gentle waves became monstrous, crashing against the boat. Water poured over the sides, swamping them with a suddenness that had everyone scrambling to hold on.

Rafe’s heart pounded as the boat lurched violently beneath him, leaving you in the corner. “Where’s Sarah?” His voice cracked, strained with panic as he scanned the chaos around him. The boat tilted again, threatening to capsize, the weight of the storm pushing everyone to their limits.

“John B, what happened?” Kie screamed over the howl of the storm, her voice tight with fear as she grabbed onto the wreckage. “Where’s JJ?” She was drenched, shaking, but her eyes were wild with terror.

“Sarah! Y/N!” Pope shouted, coughing violently from the saltwater that sprayed his face. His voice cracked, sounding desperate.

“JJ! J!” Kie yells out, but the storm swallows her words, and the panic in the air grows thicker, darker.

The boat tilted again, more violently this time, and Rafe’s stomach dropped. “Where’s Y/N?!” he roared, his eyes searching the spot that he left you in. His hands clenched the edge of the boat as he fought to keep his balance. 'I only left her for a second' he thought to himself.

He couldn’t see Sarah. He couldn’t see JJ. The waves were consuming the boat, and he was being pulled deeper into the chaos. His heart raced, choking on the terror building in his chest.

And then he saw you.

His breath caught in his throat when his eyes locked on you, struggling against the violent currents, gripping a broken piece of wood. You were soaking wet, your body trembling with the cold, your face pale from the shock of it all. Rafe’s mind screamed as he pushed through the chaos, calling your name over the roar of the wind.

Without thinking, he lunged toward you, the boat tipping dangerously as he reached out for you, pulling you toward him. The storm raged around them, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but getting you close. As soon as he had you in his arms, he pulled you in tight, his heart hammering against his chest.

“Are you okay?” His voice was rough, frantic, his hands shaking as he cupped your face, feeling the cold rain mixing with the saltwater.

You barely had time to answer before his lips crashed onto yours, soft and desperate, kissed by the storm itself. The cold, the fear, the urgency of it all melted into the touch, a kiss that was more than just a kiss. It was relief. It was raw emotion, the panic slowly starting to fade as the sensation of you in his arms grounded him.

His lips lingered on yours for a moment longer, the kiss gentle, as if he was making sure you were real, making sure you were alive. The storm whipped around them, but it felt like the world outside had ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, holding onto each other, breathing through the chaos.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispered against your lips, his voice shaky with emotion.

“I’m right here,” you breathed back, your fingers clutching the wet fabric of his shirt as you held onto him. The rain poured down, but the world seemed to slow as you both clung to each other, trying to find solace in the midst of the storm.

You both held on to each other as the boat began to break apart completely. Waves crashed over them, threatening to drown them, but somehow, they held on, refusing to let go. Finally, after what felt like hours, the storm began to calm, leaving only the broken pieces of the boat scattered across the water.

Rafe helped you onto a piece of wreckage, his body still trembling with adrenaline. He couldn’t stop looking at you, his heart still racing, afraid that any second, you might slip away. But you were there. You were with him.

Hours later, the storm had passed, leaving only a cold, eerie quiet. The fire on the beach crackled weakly, the warmth of it barely enough to fight off the chill of the night. Rafe sat on the sand, his eyes fixed on the horizon, his mind still reeling. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, leaving him with a hollow ache in his chest.

“We need to keep looking,” Rafe muttered, his voice low, eyes distant.

You sat next to him, not saying anything, just letting him process the fear that had taken over him. His chest still rose and fell in uneven bursts, as if his body didn’t know how to calm down. His hands shook, but you noticed how he’d been holding onto you tighter than before, the lingering fear still not fully letting him go.

He glanced at you, his eyes haunted. “I can’t lose her. Not like this. Not again. I... I can’t do it.”

You didn’t respond right away, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Instead, you reached out and placed a hand on his, offering what comfort you could.

“We’ll find them,” you said quietly. “We’ll keep looking. We won’t stop until we do.”

Rafe nodded, but the fear in his eyes didn’t fade. His thoughts were still on Sarah, surprisingly on JJ, but he was trying to hold himself together—for you, for them. But he couldn’t stop the wave of emotions crashing inside him.

You squeezed his hand, feeling the coldness that still lingered in his body, but you stayed close. You didn’t speak again. You didn’t need to. Instead, you just held him, your warmth offering him the reassurance that nothing else in the world could.

The night stretched on, but Rafe couldn’t sleep. His mind was stuck in a loop, the terrifying thoughts of losing Sarah, of losing anyone, eating at him. He could hear your breathing, steady and calming beside him, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the chaos in his mind.

And then, as if it was the only thing left to say, he spoke again.

“The night we...you know,” he began, his voice barely a whisper, the vulnerability in it almost too much to bear. “I keep thinking about it. Over and over again.”

You turned to him, noticing how his jaw was clenched, his eyes clouded with thoughts he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud.

“I don’t know why,” he continued, his voice tightening, “but I can’t stop. I just...” He paused, swallowing hard. “I just don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose you.”

The words hit you harder than expected, and you could feel the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between you both. You didn’t answer right away, letting him gather himself, feeling the rawness in the air.

And then, with all the emotion you both had been carrying, you simply did what he needed.

You leaned in, pulling him close, wrapping your arms around him in a way that felt like it could heal something deep inside both of you. Rafe let out a shaky breath, and for the first time since the storm hit, he let himself be vulnerable, holding onto you like a lifeline.

"Please," he whispered, his voice cracking with the weight of everything. "Just... just hold me. I can’t do this alone."

And you did. You held him, letting him find peace in the way your arms surrounded him. No words were needed. It was weird seeing Rafe this vulnerable, but you did care for him, so if he needed this you were willing to give it to him. The chaos raged on, but inside, for a moment, everything was still.

The next morning, the sea was finally calm, but the air remained heavy with fear.

And then, against all odds, Sarah and JJ appeared, walking from the shadows of the desert shore. They were both disheveled, drenched, and exhausted, but they were alive. Their feet shuffled through the sand, their movements slow and labored, but there was something undeniably real in the way they approached the group.

John B spotted them first, his breath catching in his chest as he realized they were okay. He rushed toward them, his face lighting up with relief and disbelief.

“Sarah! JJ!” John B shouted, his voice cracking as he ran to them, pulling them both into tight, desperate hugs. “You’re alive. You’re both alive.”

Sarah’s chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Her clothes clung to her, drenched from the sea and the rain, but her eyes shone with something that could only be described as relief. Her lips trembled as she looked up at John B, barely able to keep herself steady.

“Hi,” she whispered through shaky breaths. Her voice was hoarse from the saltwater, but she was alive, and that was all that mattered in this moment.

“I’ve got you,” John B said, his arms tightening around her, not wanting to let go. “I’ve got you.”

JJ, still standing behind Sarah, wiped the rain from his face, his eyes scanning the group with a quiet intensity. He was exhausted, too, his body battered by the storm and the struggle to survive. But there was a faint, tired smile on his face.

“You both are crazy,” Pope said, his voice filled with relief. “You made it.”

JJ shrugged, letting out a small laugh, though it sounded tired. “Yeah, well, someone had to keep her alive,” he said, glancing at Sarah, who was still clinging to John B as if he were her anchor.

John B chuckled, his hands gently stroking Sarah’s wet hair, the shock of seeing her alive still overwhelming. “You saved her,” he said, voice thick with gratitude.

But it was Sarah who finally spoke again, her words breaking through the moment. “We were drowning,” she said, her voice trembling. Tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered the panic, gently rubbing her stomach. “JJ saved my life. He saved us both.”

JJ shifted uncomfortably at the praise, looking away. “Look! I was just the closet to her. That’s all.”

As they stood there, the moment of reunion filled with the overwhelming joy of survival, Rafe remained at the edge, standing alone, apart from the group. He watched, his heart pounding as he saw Sarah and JJ, both alive. They had made it. He should’ve felt relieved, but the unease still gripped him. The fear of what could have happened, of what nearly had, lingered in his chest.

You noticed Rafe standing off to the side, far from the embrace and the chaos of joy. You couldn’t help but walk toward him, sensing the weight of the moment he was carrying. He didn’t seem to notice you until you stood in front of him, your presence pulling his gaze up.

"You okay?" you asked softly, your voice low and gentle.

Rafe didn’t respond immediately, his eyes lingering on the group who were laughing and cheering, embracing one another in relief. He exhaled, his hands clenched at his sides. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Sarah, still wrapped in John B’s arms, as they celebrated their survival.

“I don’t know how to feel,” Rafe said, his voice heavy with exhaustion and relief, but there was something else beneath it, something he wasn’t willing to admit out loud. “I’m glad they’re alive. I’m glad she’s alive. But I just—I don’t know, man. I can’t shake the feeling that something could’ve gone wrong. That I could’ve lost her. Lost you.”

You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Rafe,” you murmured, your voice soft yet firm. “You didn’t lose anyone. You didn’t lose her. You didn’t lose me.”

His eyes flickered to yours, and you could see the rawness in them—the fear that had been gnawing at him since the storm first hit. His body was tense, like he was still bracing for the worst, for something terrible to happen. But your touch, your words, they brought him back to the moment.

“Just don’t go,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost pleading. “Don’t leave me like this. Not after everything.”

You stepped closer, closing the space between you. Without saying another word, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into you, offering the comfort he didn’t know how to ask for. For a long moment, he didn’t move, just letting himself lean into you, his breath shaky against your shoulder.

You whispered into his ear, “I’m not going anywhere, Rafe. I’m right here. We’re all still here. And we’ll make it through.”

He held you tightly, pulling you in closer. You felt the warmth of his body, the tremors running through him as he finally allowed himself to relax against you. Then, almost as if it were instinct, he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours for a moment before his hand cupped your face gently. Without a word, he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a soft, desperate kiss. It was fleeting, but it was full of unspoken relief, fear, and something deeper—something he hadn’t fully understood until now.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "I needed that," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“You’ve got it,” you replied, your voice steady, your arms still wrapped around him. “I’m right here.”

The sounds of the group celebrating in the distance—their cheers and laughter—faded into the background as Rafe let the moment wash over him. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. And for now, that was all that mattered.

As the others gathered around the fire, their joy palpable in the air, Rafe stayed by your side. He watched them from a distance, not quite ready to join in the celebration, not yet willing to let go of the weight in his chest. He didn’t know how to express the relief, the gratitude, the fear that still lingered. But with you there, holding him, he didn’t need to.

Together, they had survived. Together, they would face whatever came next.

taglist : @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl

[ilyrafe]

boat scene with rafe

requested by @gibson-g1rl l <3 😘 part 2

credits: oysters png from @saizun , and amazing gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The boat rocks beneath you as you step toward where Rafe sits bound against the wall, looking both furious and oddly vulnerable. You catch his eye as you enter the room, holding a small packet of aspirin and a plate of food. His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, but his cocky smirk returns almost immediately.

“Look who’s here to take care of me,” he drawls, his voice dripping with that familiar teasing tone, though there’s a flicker of genuine relief in his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to your words. You set the plate down next to him and hand over the aspirin, glancing away to avoid letting him see the small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “Thought you’d need this. Can’t have you passing out on us.”

Rafe takes the aspirin from your hand, holding your gaze just a little too long before he swallows it dry. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting room service,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving yours. “Didn’t know you cared this much.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “You should know by now I don’t want you dead, Rafe,” you say with a wry smile. “But don’t expect this to become a habit.”

He chuckles, the sound low and a little smug. “We’ll see about that,” he says, shifting against the ropes, clearly enjoying the attention. He nods toward the plate. “So, what—are you gonna feed me, too?”

You blink, taken aback by his nerve, and then raise an eyebrow, letting sarcasm color your voice. “Would you like me to? Or do you think you can manage?” You narrow your eyes, daring him to keep pushing.

Rafe’s smirk wavers, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink as he quickly looks away. “I can handle it,” he mutters, clearly flustered but trying to play it off. “Don’t get carried away.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning to.” But you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips as you settle back, watching as he tries to pick up a piece of food from the plate with an awkward, fumbling grip, struggling against the restraints.

You stifle a laugh as he tries to eat without making a mess, and he catches you smiling, his jaw tightening. “Something funny?” he snaps, though there’s a hint of embarrassment in his tone.

You shrug, biting back your amusement. “Nothing at all. You look perfectly in control.”

Rafe grumbles under his breath, focusing intently on his food to avoid meeting your eyes. Another wave rocks the boat, causing you to steady yourself against the wall, and you look back to find him watching you, something almost like concern flickering in his gaze.

“Be careful,” he mutters, his voice softer, dropping the bravado for a split second.

For a moment, you just look at each other, the storm outside and the chaos around you fading into the background. His cocky expression softens, and he gives you a small, grateful nod. He won’t say it, but you know he’s thankful.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on you a beat longer.

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, crossing your arms as you lean back against the wall. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

Rafe grins, his cockiness slipping back into place, but now it’s warmer, less of a wall and more like something shared just between the two of you. As he reaches for another bite, he murmurs, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” And as much as you try to resist, you can’t help the small, reluctant smile that crosses your face in response.

The storm hits hard, the boat rocking violently beneath your feet. You’re barely able to keep your balance as you make your way through the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Waves crash against the hull, each one sending a jolt of panic through your body. But there’s something else clawing at you—something that won’t let you ignore the sound of Rafe’s voice, sharp and desperate, calling from another room.

“Come on! Cut me loose!” His voice cracks, the desperation in it too raw to ignore.

You freeze, breath catching in your throat. Rafe. He’s still tied up. The ropes are holding him in place as the boat teeters precariously on the brink of capsizing. You can hear Pope and Cleo yelling from the kitchen, their voices overlapping, trying to convince you to leave it alone. To save yourself. But you can’t. Not this time.

You grip the knife tighter, your fingers cold and trembling from the anxiety rising in your chest. There’s no time to think. Rafe’s call keeps echoing in your head, and that voice—the urgency, the fear—pushes you forward. You make your way toward the room where you heard him last, the sound of the storm growing louder as it pounds against the sides of the boat.

Before you even get to the door, Cleo’s voice rings out. “No! Y/N, No!”

Pope’s voice follows, sharper. “Y/N, stop don’t let him out!”

But you keep moving. You don’t stop. You can’t. There’s no way you’re going to let Rafe stay there, helpless and bound, when you can do something about it.

When you reach the door, you shove it open, and the sight of Rafe tied up against the far wall hits you with a jolt. He’s slumped slightly, sweat slicking his forehead, his face drawn with exhaustion and frustration. His eyes snap to you, and for a split second, they soften with something almost like relief.

“Cut me loose, come on!” He says again, his voice strained, but louder this time, more insistent.

His hands are bound tightly in thick ropes, his legs spread out uncomfortably beneath him. The ropes seem too thick for him to break on his own. You can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles twitch from the strain, and the panic that flickers behind his gaze. There’s no time to waste. You don’t think twice. You crouch in front of him, the knife in your hand glinting in the low light.

Rafe watches you, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “Don’t make me regret this,” you murmur, feeling your heart beat faster as you cut into the thick rope that’s holding him in place. Your hands are shaking, the knife slipping slightly as the boat tilts again, but you focus on the task at hand.

“Come on, hurry up.” His words are clipped, desperate, and you push aside the nervous tightness in your chest as you work faster, cutting the ropes.

You’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, a stark contrast to the cold, wet air from the storm. The boat groans as another wave slams against it, and Rafe’s eyes flicker to the window, then back to you.

“Please,” he breathes, and it’s that one word that makes everything else fade away—the roaring storm, the panicked shouting from the others, the ticking clock of time slipping away.

The last thread gives way with a sharp cut, and Rafe’s hands are free. His arms immediately reach for you, grabbing hold of your wrist with a surprising amount of force, pulling himself upright.

“Thanks,” he mutters, his voice rough, but there’s something deeper in it, something like a sense of vulnerability you’ve never seen from him before.

You don’t have time to say anything, to wonder if he’s really thankful or if he’s just grateful to be free. The boat shudders violently, and you both stumble as the hull groans beneath you. The wind howls outside, whipping against the windows, and you know there’s not much time before things get worse.

Rafe doesn’t wait for an invitation. He grabs your arm, pulling you toward the narrow hallway. “We need to get to somewhere safer,” he says, his tone not leaving any room for an argument.

You’re both moving quickly, though the boat keeps pitching wildly. The wind screeches, and water sloshes against the floorboards. Every step feels like a risk, like the boat could capsize at any moment. But Rafe doesn’t let go of your arm. He pulls you behind him, guiding you toward a small corner near the engine room, the only place that might offer even the slightest bit of shelter.

You slide into the corner, pressing yourself against the cold wall. It’s not the safest place, but in the madness of the storm, it’s all you have. Rafe follows, wedging himself beside you. There’s barely enough room for the two of you, but you don’t mind. You’re not focused on that right now. All you can think about is how the boat is rocking, how you’re both on the brink of disaster, and how Rafe’s body is so close to yours.

He leans into you, his breathing ragged and uneven. For a moment, he pulls away, but then his hand is at your waist, his grip tightening. It’s almost like he’s afraid you might slip away from him. He presses his body closer, his face now inches from yours, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart.

Rafe places his head on your neck, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder. The warmth of his breath on your skin is both comforting and unsettling, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you place your hand on his back, the pressure of your touch grounding both of you as the storm rages on around you.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to reassure him or yourself.

Rafe doesn’t respond, but you feel his muscles relax, his tense body unwinding little by little. He’s not just holding onto you for stability; it feels like he’s holding onto you for something more. You can’t explain it, but there’s something in the way he leans into you, something raw and vulnerable that you’ve never seen before.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln

[ilyrafe]

JFKSKFKWJFJWK PLEASE!!! 🥺 the way i love me some scented candle & this would be my absolute dream meet cute!!!! oh my word kezzie u never miss 💞💞💞💞💞 this is so good, it leaves us wanting more (if u get what i mean 😜)

pumpkin spice candles

PAIRING: drew starkey x fem!reader

SUMMARY: drew finds himself intrigued by the girl fond of pumpkin spice candles. 

WORD COUNT: 830

WARNINGS: reader is sweet and just genuinely kind; kind of a love at first sight type of situation; feels cliche lol

EDITH SPEAKS: behold one of the fics from my flufftober that never really happened 🥲 (fuck engineering tbh). I think it’s kinda nice spreading some warm, cozy vibes in november lol cause I’m obsessed with fall all year around :’) this fic is short and sweet, so if you like reading, please reblog and share any kinds of feedback!! <3

masterlist / join my taglist / requests

Drew’s hands are buried deep in his pockets, the cool breeze of the fall season already starting to do a number on him. His speed on the sidewalk only fastens, and the moment his hand grips the handle of the door of the store he left his house for and steps inside, he lets out a deep breath, the warmth of the store washing over him. 

The moment he enters inside, he’s hit with the scent of all kinds of candles, the air tinged with flavors of vanilla, cinnamon, sandalwood, cardamom, and pumpkin spice. 

Drew wouldn’t consider himself particularly fond of scented candles, but when his sister practically orders him to get some because she’s busy with her daughter and family, he knows he really can’t say no. 

He walks through the aisles of the small, specialty store, his eyes roving over all the kinds of candles stacked on the shelves. There’s small ones, big ones, really big ones, some are stored in fancy glass jars, some are tea candles, some are candle sticks: honestly, it’s any candle lover’s dream. 

But he’s here for a very specific item: a big pumpkin spice candle, the one having not one, but three wicks in it. 

Pumpkin spice is probably one of the most sought after scents and flavors of fall. So it’s no surprise when he’s having trouble trying to find the exact thing his sister wants, because the stock of pumpkin spice candles probably runs out the quickest. 

But then he spots it: a glass jar with the label ‘pumpkin spice’ sitting atop a shelf. He hurries over to the shelf, and the moment he reaches out to take the candle, someone else does too, and their hands collide, causing him to retract his hand back the next second. 

“Oh I’m so sorry–” 

“Oh no I just–”

His eyes find a pair of probably the most alluring eyes he’s actually ever seen, and whoa, he needs a moment. 

“No seriously,” the young woman says, “you were here first you should take it,”

Drew politely shakes his head. “No I insist,” he says. “Take it, I’m fine,” 

He watches the young woman let out a soft sigh, seeming as if she’s really contemplating what he’s said. Then, after a moment, she gives in and nods. He watches her reach out for the candle and take it off the shelf, her fingers firmly wrapped around the glass encasing. 

“Thank you,” she says kindly, a similar kind smile on her face. Drew smiles back at her, shaking his head again. 

“You don’t have to,” He says. 

A small silence falls over them, Drew’s hands burying back into his pockets as he just quietly gazes at her from the small distance he’s at from her. He can’t help but find the entire situation cliche, but he just can’t figure out what it is that’s keeping him anchored in his place. 

“You know…” The young woman’s voice reaches his ears and his entire attention redirects to her words, “if you’re looking for something like pumpkin spice, you can get cinnamon apple or chai latte, they’re similar to pumpkin spice, they’ve got that… kick that pumpkin spice does,” 

Before he can reply to her, she’s quickly taking a candle off a shelf and handing it to him. He takes it from her and reads the label as ‘cinnamon apple’. He gives it a small whiff, and he’s got to say, it’s pretty good. 

“Oh yeah, I get what you mean,” He murmurs, taking another whiff. 

“Yeah?” She says. “I know it’s no pumpkin spice, but I hope you can take something else from here with yourself since I took the last one,” She murmurs with a sheepish chuckle. 

Drew can’t help the small smile creeping on his lips from her words. “Seriously, don’t worry about it,” He says. “I want you to have it,”

He can see that she’s not particularly fond of the idea that she’s taking the last candle instead of him, but she’s trying her best to play it off cool from her expression. He looks down at the cinnamon apple candle in his hand, his finger mindlessly fiddling with the edge of the glass casing. 

“Besides,” He begins, his eyes finding hers again. “I think this one is a good one too,”

He catches that she’s starting to get relieved, with the way she relaxes slightly and nods. “Okay,” She gives him a small smile and politely excuses herself, leaving the aisle to go to the cash registers to check out. He follows her movements with his eyes, just standing there, the cinnamon apple candle in his hands. 

Well, Mack will just have to work with this.

He smiles quietly to himself as he’s quickly ushering over to the cash registers.  

He doesn’t really like to believe in fates or cliches, but something, something, is telling him he shouldn’t let this one slide. 

And he’ll try his hardest that he doesn’t. 

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @drewstarkeys-world / @inthelibrarybtw / @mileyraes / @chenslucy

@totalswag / @wearemadeofstardust0

flufftober taglist: @jjsbank444 / @aariahnaa / @ladyinbl00d

tagging some moots: @runningfrom2am / @b1mb0slvt / @nemesyaaa / @ilyrafe / @zyafics

[ilyrafe]

the way i'm invested in this is insane, i'm sending u all my therapy bills !!!

THE CONTRACTED HEART | MASTERLIST

Rafe Cameron's MASTERLIST

Pairing: Basketball Player! Rafe x Supermodel!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Content: marriage of convenience, fake dating, athlete!rafe au

NAVIGATION —

All Of TCH asks and thoughts

ALL THE CHAPTERS —

✦ Ch01 ✦ Ch02 ✦ Ch03 ✦ Ch04 ✦ Ch05 ✦ Ch06 ✦ Ch07 ✦ Ch08 ✦ Ch09 ✦ Ch10 ✦ Ch11 ✦ Ch12 ✦ Ch13 ✦ Ch14 ✦ Ch16 ✦ Ch17 ✦ Ch18 ✦ Ch19 ✦ Ch20 ✦

SOME EXTRAS —

✦ Moodboard01

✦ TCH!Reader's Fashion Style

✦ SMAU01 | SMAU02

Obviously, layout credit to bookie @zyafics

[ilyrafe]

the way i’ve been in utter and total denial about liam’s death.

the news about the investigation of his death made me believe something would happen, that something would change, but it didn’t.

very few celebrity deaths have affected me the way this one has. i absolutely did not expect to mourn one of my idols so soon.

seeing the pictures of his family and 1d boys at his funeral is so fucking heartbreaking because 1) we shouldn’t have access to them in such a difficult time and 2) this is not how i wanted to see them together in the same place again.

i look at the picture of the casket and can’t quite comprehend he’s there. i’m glad he’s finally resting, but at the same time, his family will have to carry on without him. his seven year old little boy will have to carry on without him.

i don’t mean to make this about me, but my god. liam was such a special part of my teenage years, i had such a crush on him, and even from a young age i saw his talent. he was so talented. so charismatic, so funny and so sweet. as i grew up and the band had split, i lost interest in their solo careers. every once in a while i would see what they were up to and i’m not gonna lie, i would always worry about liam, which was so strange because back in the day, he was the one i worried about the least.

he had so much potential, his whole life ahead of him.

i don’t believe that real people should necessarily have “redemption arcs”, but i so desperately wanted liam to have his. he deserved to get his act together and watch his son grow up, marry his girlfriend and have the life he wanted to have.

as grateful as i am to have had experienced one direction in my life, i wish they hadn’t happen. liam would still be here.

rest easy, liam. you deserve it.

[ilyrafe]

🥺

hiii congrats on 2k!!! you deserve it so much <33

💋 prompt list a: "i need space" + "you can't leave me"

tyyy

thank you so much lovie!! 🤍🤍

warnings: cuss words, blood

The knock on your door wakes you up from your deep slumber. You look at your phone screen, showing it's 2am. You get up and pull on your slippers as you cautiously walk downstairs. As you reach the front door, you check through the peephole, finding Rafe, your boyfriend outside your door, blood dripping from his nose. You immediately open the door, worried expression on your face.

“Rafe…oh my god!” You exclaim in shock. He wipes the blood from his nose.

“Hey baby…” he smiles wide as he enters the house. You grab his face and pull him with you to the bathroom. You close the cover of the toilet seat and make him sit down on it. You rummage through the cabinet for your first aid kit.

“On the left.” he whispers, familiar with the first aid kit now. Rafe's temper had always been a problem. He got into a lot of fights often, because he couldn't control his anger. You had scolded him multiple times about it but he never seemed to listen.

You grab the first aid kit and stand between his legs as you examine his face. A cut on his cheek, a bruise starting to form on his jaw, a busted lip and a bloody nose adorning his face. You try and successfully stop the nosebleed, before applying some alcohol disinfectant on a cotton pad to clean the cut. When the alcohol makes contact with the cut, he hisses as it stings and holds your hips in response.

“Sorry.” You groan, your guilt evident on your face. He shakes his head as you continue cleaning up the cut.

“It's not your fault.” He whispers. He lets you do your work quietly. Bandaging up the cut and putting some ointment on the bruise on his jaw. When you're done, you clean up the kit and wash your hands, your back in front of him and he looks at you waiting for a reaction. He knew you didn't like when he got into fights and he knew he was gonna get a lecture again. You turn around and lean on the counter, crossing your arms expectantly.

“So..? What happened?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“You're not gonna like the answer…” Rafe exclaims jokingly and he looks up at you, expecting something. Even the smallest smile from you would make him feel a lot better than the worried expression you had. He sighs, when he notices the absence of anything.

“I-I got into a fight…with some stupid guy at the club.” He reveals and you nod.

“Why, this time?” You ask, jabbing at him for all the other fights he has been in. He rolls his eyes.

“Doesn't matter.” He replies, but knowing you and how stubborn you get, he knew you'd push.

“Please, tell me.” You beg and when he sees the concern in your eyes as you do, he nods.

“He…he said some stuff about you. And I-I couldn't…control myself. I couldn't let him talk shit about you.” Your eyebrows furrow even more. The sight of him battered and bruised, because he tried to defend you, doesn't make you feel good as he expected it to. You sigh and look up to the ceiling.

“We've talked about this, Rafe. You can't keep getting into stupid fights. Losing your temper like that…” You begin.

“It's not stupid…I was trying to defend you. I wasn't gonna let him or anyone talk like that about you.” He interrupts you, frustrated that you cannot understand him. I shake my head, looking away from him.

“What? Huh? You're gonna get upset again and-and start fucking lecturing me again? Can you not see that I did this for you?” His face filled with frustration and some anger.

“I didn't ask you to do any of this!” You snap. “Do you think it's easy for me to see you hurt? To have to clean you up? Think again…”

Rafe sighs, suddenly feeling some guilt for making you feel this way, but doesn't have any remorse about what he did.

“I am not gonna apologize for fighting that guy. Or anyone disrespecting you. I don't care that I got, what? A bruise…and a busted lip? I've gotten worse before, sweetheart. You shouldn't worry about me. I can handle it.”

You sigh at his words, knowing that if you reply, the fighting cycle will just keep going.

“You know what…I can't do this. I'm tired.” You look down fidgeting with one of your rings. The promise one, Rafe got you not too long ago. He notices that bad habit of yours and gets up from the toilet seat.

“Yeah, me too.” He sighs too, pulling your hand away from your ring. “We can sleep it off. Or talk about it later.”

“No, Rafe..” You start “I mean, I'm tired of this.” You close your eyes and his eyebrows furrow in worry, his chest filling with pain as he tries to understand what you mean. And hoping it doesn't mean what he thinks.

“What?” He asks, anxiety taking over. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean…fuck, aren't you tired? Of us. Arguing all the time. And for stupid things.” You reveal, but his mind is stuck. Of us. That little phrase meant everything he feared. You were gonna leave him.

When he doesn't say anything, you sigh again, closing your eyes.

“I…I need some space.” His heart aches and he shakes his head.

“No, baby…we can talk. We…I…please..”

You look up, your eyes glossy, as your lips tremble trying to contain your emotions. His eyes widen and he reaches for you.

“Baby. Hey, hey. No, we can fix this. I-I can fix this. Just…please. Don't…” he sighs “Please, don't leave me. You can't leave me. I…I need you, baby. Sweetheart, please” He exclaims. Rafe is not one who expresses his feelings in words often. Usually he shows it to you by getting you gifts, taking you to expensive trips and dates, making you dinner and treating you to a nice bath or something. Being vulnerable is not something he is used to, but when it comes to you he doesn't care.

He touches your shoulder gently, reaching for the back of your neck to pull you to look up at him.

“Please…” You wrap your arms around him before you start sobbing. His heart aches at the sound and wraps his arms around you immediately.

“Hey…shh. I got you. I am here.” He kept repeating.

After a few minutes, your sobs subside into quiet sniffles. You pull back to look at him.

“I don't wanna…I didn't…mean it.” You try to explain but he cuts you off with a shake of his head.

“No, don't. You don't need to explain anything. I am an idiot. I keep getting into fights and I know how much that bothers you. I will stop. If that's what you want me to do, I will stop. I don't care.” He says determined to fix this mess he created. “Just please. Don't leave me.” He whispers and you nod.

“I won't. I can't. Ever.” He smiles at your words and leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I love you, my sweet girl. I love how you take care of me. And I love that you're worrying about me. I really fucking appreciate you. Okay? I know…I don't say it enough. But I do!” He exclaims and you smile slightly.

“I love you too.” You whisper. He leans down and captures your lips into his.

“I will fix this. I swear. I will make it better. I will do better. Just…don't go.” You nod at his words and he wraps his arms around you.

You might fight often, but Rafe will do whatever it takes to fix it. To never lose you.

A/N: this might just been my fav blurb i have written so far. i did get a little carried away with it. i hope you enjoy this and is somewhat what you expected!!🤍

[ilyrafe]

i made a brief summary of hitman chapters and my god, i myself can't handle my own angst what is wrong with me

[ilyrafe]

literally just realized i started writing this in third person and for some reason i changed it to second person in the middle so i edited it to third person again, my apologies!!!

𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄. | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆

pairing: hitman!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: domestic violence, murder

word count: 1k

a/n: this is loosely based on the movie hit man (actually based on a scene lol)

taglist: @starkeyvhs

unpretentiously, rafe enters the diner and sits at a table, facing the entrance, just so he can see who comes and goes. the young waitress takes his order - a cheeseburger with fries and a soda - and he waits.

strangely, he couldn’t find any pictures of y/n, the woman who contacted him. all he knew about her was her name, really. she only said the clothes she would be wearing - a pair of jeans and a large gray sweater, but anyone could be wearing that. she didn’t inform him about her physicality, and he couldn’t find anything about her online, which intrigued him a lot more.

she isn’t his first female client, but it’s still rare for him to have women wanting his services. 

his order comes and he keeps watching the entrance of the diner. all kinds of people come and go, young and older men, children, teenagers, and even some women, but none of them approach him.

when he’s taking the last sip of his soda, he sees a young looking woman walking towards him. she looks around, clearly nervous. she sits in front of him and rafe realizes it’s her.

“i contacted you yesterday.” she says, almost whispering.

she is visibly tense, probably her first time talking to a hitman.

“how can i help you, y/n?”

she sighs, contrasting with his own posture. she looks tired, the bags under her eyes are quite dark. her hair is lifeless, quite messy, as if she didn’t really have time to brush it or didn’t care to do it. her clothes aren’t new, and he notices a tiny stain that could be blood, but he’s not sure.

before she can say anything, she reaches for her bag and takes out a dark yellow package and slides it to him.

the cash.

“i need you to kill my husband.”

he could be wrong, but rafe is pretty sure there are tiny tears forming in her eyes. they look scared, devoid of any light or hope. to be honest, this woman is just existing.

“why?”

that seems to catch her by surprise. he doesn’t like the way she’s doing everything she can to look invisible. literally no one has noticed her presence there. the waitress hasn’t even come here to take her order.

“he… he’s awful.” she admits. “i don’t know what else to do. he won’t let me leave him. he… he gets drunk and then he…” she trails off, wiping away a few tears. “anything can set him off and i’m scared for my life. the police won’t do anything…”

the friction between the sleeve and the table causes the skin on her wrist to be exposed and he sees purple marks. if her wrist is that bad, he can’t even imagine the rest of her body.

rafe takes the cash in his hands and after two seconds of thought, he gives it back to her.

“do you have children?” she shakes her head. “then take this money and don’t go back home. go away and don’t look back. start over somewhere far away from here.”

“no, he’ll find me!”

the panic in her voice pains him so much.

“don’t worry about it. i’ll take care of him, but i need you to do what i say.”

“i don’t understand…”

“i don’t want your money. just give me a picture of him and his home address.”

after a few long seconds, she nods and takes a piece of torn photo, a piece of paper, and a pen from her purse. she writes down her home address and hands it over along with the picture of her husband.

she takes back the money and put it back in her purse. it’s all her life savings. the money she had to hide from her husband, so he wouldn’t spend on alcohol and drugs. rafe puts the items in his pocket and watches her leave the diner, hoping to god she listens to him and goes away. 

(...)

in his car, rafe watches the movement on the street outside her house.

ever since he left the diner, he has been monitoring her husband’s steps, and since then, he has not seen her coming home. hopefully she really did leave this place for good. 

rafe doesn’t know what possessed him to help her, he has never worked for free, and money is perhaps the most important thing in his life, but after seeing y/n, and understanding that hiring a hitman may have been her last option, he just wanted to do a good deed, since his job is only to kill people in exchange for money.

it is already dawn, two in the morning to be exact. all the neighbors seem to be asleep. when he is sure that he can act, rafe gets out of the car properly dressed for the killing - gloves, mask and a gun.

upon reaching the back door of the house, rafe notices that the door is unlocked, as are the windows.

strange.

prepared for any kind of situation, he enters the house silently. it is dark, so he turns on the kitchen light, and finds himself in a simple but messy kitchen, with food scraps in the sink. there are empty bottles of whiskey and beer everywhere, trash all over the place. just ahead, in the living room, lying on the floor, there is joshua, her husband, apparently passed out.

this will be easier than expected.

before doing anything to joshua, rafe searches their bedroom and sees that the closet is open and empty. well, there are just a few men’s clothes. all of her clothes are gone. y/n really is gone. she did go back home, but she's gone, and that’s what really matters.

a sense of relief washes over rafe, and it’s inexplicable. it’s like he really feels like he saved a life.

thinking about faking a suicide, he searches for a gun, and luckily finds one in the bathroom. after checking for ammo, he carefully places the gun in joshua’s hand and brings it to his temple. with his finger, he pulls the trigger.

let me know your thoughts & if you want to be tagged :)))

[ilyrafe]

hiiiii my love 💞 you’re forgiven bc you’re super busy being smart at college 🙂‍↕️ so happy you liked it bby i kind of dont know where this is going lol and YES rafe could totally be a hitman and ever since watching the movie i couldn't stop thinking about the concept ! ily ily thank u for your commentary i always look forward to read it 🤍

𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄. | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆

pairing: hitman!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: domestic violence, murder

word count: 1k

a/n: this is loosely based on the movie hit man (actually based on a scene lol)

taglist: @starkeyvhs

unpretentiously, rafe enters the diner and sits at a table, facing the entrance, just so he can see who comes and goes. the young waitress takes his order - a cheeseburger with fries and a soda - and he waits.

strangely, he couldn’t find any pictures of y/n, the woman who contacted him. all he knew about her was her name, really. she only said the clothes she would be wearing - a pair of jeans and a large gray sweater, but anyone could be wearing that. she didn’t inform him about her physicality, and he couldn’t find anything about her online, which intrigued him a lot more.

she isn’t his first female client, but it’s still rare for him to have women wanting his services. 

his order comes and he keeps watching the entrance of the diner. all kinds of people come and go, young and older men, children, teenagers, and even some women, but none of them approach him.

when he’s taking the last sip of his soda, he sees a young looking woman walking towards him. she looks around, clearly nervous. she sits in front of him and rafe realizes it’s her.

“i contacted you yesterday.” she says, almost whispering.

she is visibly tense, probably her first time talking to a hitman.

“how can i help you, y/n?”

she sighs, contrasting with his own posture. she looks tired, the bags under her eyes are quite dark. her hair is lifeless, quite messy, as if she didn’t really have time to brush it or didn’t care to do it. her clothes aren’t new, and he notices a tiny stain that could be blood, but he’s not sure.

before she can say anything, she reaches for her bag and takes out a dark yellow package and slides it to him.

the cash.

“i need you to kill my husband.”

he could be wrong, but rafe is pretty sure there are tiny tears forming in her eyes. they look scared, devoid of any light or hope. to be honest, this woman is just existing.

“why?”

that seems to catch her by surprise. he doesn’t like the way she’s doing everything she can to look invisible. literally no one has noticed her presence there. the waitress hasn’t even come here to take her order.

“he… he’s awful.” she admits. “i don’t know what else to do. he won’t let me leave him. he… he gets drunk and then he…” she trails off, wiping away a few tears. “anything can set him off and i’m scared for my life. the police won’t do anything…”

the friction between the sleeve and the table causes the skin on her wrist to be exposed and he sees purple marks. if her wrist is that bad, he can’t even imagine the rest of her body.

rafe takes the cash in his hands and after two seconds of thought, he gives it back to her.

“do you have children?” she shakes her head. “then take this money and don’t go back home. go away and don’t look back. start over somewhere far away from here.”

“no, he’ll find me!”

the panic in her voice pains him so much.

“don’t worry about it. i’ll take care of him, but i need you to do what i say.”

“i don’t understand…”

“i don’t want your money. just give me a picture of him and his home address.”

after a few long seconds, she nods and takes a piece of torn photo, a piece of paper, and a pen from her purse. she writes down her home address and hands it over along with the picture of her husband.

she takes back the money and put it back in her purse. it’s all her life savings. the money she had to hide from her husband, so he wouldn’t spend on alcohol and drugs. rafe puts the items in his pocket and watches her leave the diner, hoping to god she listens to him and goes away. 

(...)

in his car, rafe watches the movement on the street outside your house.

ever since he left the diner, he has been monitoring your husband’s steps, and since then, he has not seen you coming home. hopefully you really did leave this place for good. 

rafe doesn’t know what possessed him to help you, he has never worked for free, and money is perhaps the most important thing in his life, but after seeing you, and understanding that hiring a hitman may have been your last option, he just wanted to do a good deed, since his job is only to kill people in exchange for money.

it is already dawn, two in the morning to be exact. all the neighbors seem to be asleep. when he is sure that he can act, rafe gets out of the car properly dressed for the killing - gloves, mask and a gun.

upon reaching the back door of the house, rafe notices that the door is unlocked, as are the windows.

strange.

prepared for any kind of situation, he enters the house silently. it is dark, so he turns on the kitchen light, and finds himself in a simple but messy kitchen, with food scraps in the sink. there are empty bottles of whiskey and beer everywhere, trash all over the place. just ahead, in the living room, lying on the floor, there is joshua, your husband, apparently passed out.

this will be easier than expected.

before doing anything to joshua, rafe searches your bedroom and sees that the closet is open and empty. well, there are just a few men’s clothes. all of your clothes are gone. you really are gone. you did go back home, but you're gone, and that’s what really matters.

a sense of relief washes over rafe, and it’s inexplicable. it’s like he really feels like he saved a life.

thinking about faking a suicide, he searches for a gun, and luckily finds one in the bathroom. after checking for ammo, he carefully places the gun in joshua’s hand and brings it to his temple. with his finger, he pulls the trigger.

let me know your thoughts & if you want to be tagged :)))

[ilyrafe]

HI I LOVE YOU 🥰🥺

I love your fics 🫶🏾 do you have any recommendations

hi baby!! omg, thank you so much, and i definitely do have recs!

this isn't an exhaustive list, btw, these r just people i can think off the top of my head. i have a rec account where i reblog my fav fics and whatnot with reviews and commentary @zyafics-recs

@nadvs ONE OF THE BEST RAFE WRITERS, she is the reason why i got introduced into fanfic writing and the reason why i actually wrote today! i love all of her series and her entire masterlist has anything u could ever look for—from fluff, to smut, to angst. it's all there! personal favorites are cam girl and home before dark!

@itneverendshere MY PERSONAL FAVORITE WRITER AND MY ABSOLUTE LOVELY GIGI, i am her biggest fan (will fight u for this position 🔪) and whenever i feel down, or lacking motivation, she is the reason to help me get motivated! she's such a lovely person, and her prose, dialogues and descriptions are to die for. if u like my written fics, i say gigi and have pretty ~similar~ writing style. she also can have ANYTHING ur craving—from canonverse plots, to aus, to fluff, to smut, to angst, EVERYTHING! my personal favorites that got me invested into her work is her thornton!reader with rafe, the other side of paradise (maybank!reader and rafe, lowkey canon, lowkey not), and love you at your worst. also i requested a lot of hockey!rafe from her, so if you love athlete!rafe, she's definitely ur girl!!

@aliyahwritings my bABYGIRL FR—she currently has this series called the contracted heart, which is about model!reader and athlete!rafe and it's to die for. if you love banters—especially if you love witty banter back and forth—this is your girl. if any of you read the addicted series, and loved rose and connor, they lowkey mirror that dynamic. on top of her amazing dialogues/banters, she has such rich representation of desi!reader. like she isn't afraid of portraying explicitly BIPOC readers which i admire so much from her.

@whytheylosttheirminds okay listen, NAT has one of the richest descriptions of storytelling that evokes such a personal level to you. whenever i enter her storytelling, she has such details and beautiful imagery, i actually have to stop reading just to admire it. i'm still digesting her masterlist, but my personal recs are: blue sweater, snooze, and i remember everything!

@starkeysprincess one of the sweetest people on this platform, i absolutely devoured her kinktober fics, but one thing about shania is that she writes every scenario of rafe—from doctor, to handyman, to stepbrother, etc!—and she does it so well. her smut is so fun, and dynamic, especially with their dialogues, and it's so easy to digest her fics in one setting (be warned fr)

@erwinsvow ok i absolutely ADORE the way shea writes, ok?? like everything she puts out, i eat UP!! especially when she written her long fics, aint nothing better for me (toxic!rafe), all mine, bitchy!reader and rafe, and my heart and soul that i religiously reread every week got what u wanted <3

@ilyrafe one of my favorite writing pieces and introduction to analysis of rafe, is by gabi. she has this wonderful mini series (late night and early morning) that perfectly slows down the relationship of rafe and reader and the intensity of his character. if u wanna read more about how he sees the world, and why his character acts the way it does, gabi does is so successful. she also has a hitman!rafe currently in the progress, which i know just released a pt2, i am gonna to read it soon, promise!

@softspiderling okay ELLE HAS EVERYTHING!! she has smaus, to written works, to series, to oneshots, i'm obsessed with everything she puts out, especially because it's so intriguing and the way she writes just leaves me craving more. i would personally rec ocean blue eyes (smau), illicit affairs (best friends to fwb to lovers) and think you’re a genius (you drive me up the wall) <3

if u want more social media aus—

@ghostofwriting has one that is the reason why hb:l is alive today. kildare split is about a band au with rafe and reader and they had drama. and she's also currently writing one about biker!rafe and book influencer!reader, which is so fun, witty, and filled with drama. i absolutely adore kildare split, and it will always have a special place in my heart bc it's my first introduction to smaus <3

@sematarygirls ohmygod, i am currently obsessed with salt & secrets. it's actually magnificent, especially the graphics. the efforts sol puts into them is so detailed and telling, u can see it's made with love. but the PLOT!!! the way the story moves, the way it's a gossip site and reader is a huge instigator. this fun enemies-to-lovers feud between them (that i'm still wondering if the reason reader is targeting rafe means something more 🤨) and the COMMENTS AND BANTERS!! reader is so hilarious. all the characters are so funny and witty, it's definitely something to read to soothe the angst and tension from hb:l LOL 💘

@rafeskai i'm also currently reading this smau about reader and rafe having a little thing before she moved away for college, and she came back! it's so interesting, especially because kai mixes multimedia and written work in one place, so u get to experienced both!

lastly, this is for sarah cameron specifically, but @spellewrites! she's currently working on this smau about sarah cameron and f!reader and i'm excited to see how it goes, especially because sarah is dating(?) topper, reader's brother.

[ilyrafe]

𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄. | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐

pairing: hitman!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: none :)

word count: 1k

part one

taglist: @starkeyvhs @toterry @httpsdrewstarkey @gillybear17 @baby19sthings @zya8tracks

a/n: this is such a shitty chapter but please bear with me i had such a terrible creative block!!! god i hate it here

a stroke of luck.

when joshua was found, both rafe and y/n were far. well, rafe wasn’t that far, but she had really disappeared. the next day, rafe still wanted to send a message to her and let her know that everything was done, but that number didn’t exist anymore.

as a precaution, rafe was always around, wanting to know if there was any suspicion about joshua’s death, but apparently, everyone there knew that he was “a time bomb about to explode”. the neighbors saw y/n leaving with all of her belongings, so they assumed that he couldn’t take it and took his own life.

“i knew one of them would end up dead,” an older woman told a friend, and rafe paid attention. “and i prayed it wouldn’t be her, because she was a good person. he would get drunk and when she would say she’d leave, he’d threaten to kill her and then himself. i’ve heard their arguments!”

in the end, y/n received a good amount of life insurance for still being legally married to him. good for her.

and life went on, as it would. as it should.

rafe continued his infamous business of killing for money, and whenever someone contacted him, he was disappointed that it wasn’t her. as much as he didn’t want to admit, he always caught himself thinking about her and wondering how she was doing, if she was okay.

rafe has seen grotesque scenes that no longer bother him, but imagining joshua putting his dirty hands around her neck, or scaring her makes his blood boil, because he’s done it before with his own sister, and that’s his biggest regret. if there’s a heaven and a hell, rafe knows very well where he’s going, and he’s already come to terms with it, but one thing he’ll never do again in his life is to be violent towards another woman - any woman.

even a hitman needs to have some morals.

the fear in sarah’s eyes still disturbs him. when he goes to sleep, that’s all he dreams of. he relives the moment all night long, and then he drinks to forget it, but it doesn’t help - the image of him nearly killing his own blood is too much.

when he remembers that day at the diner, he can’t get the image of her out of his head - she looked so small, so defeated. deep down, rafe knows all of the answers to the questions he asks himself. he’s smarter than he gives himself credit for.

(...)

the life of a hitman can actually be very lonely, something rafe still struggles to deal with. every once in a while he goes for a walk in the park when his mind is going places he doesn’t want to go.

an autumn afternoon in chicago is like a scene from a painting, where nature’s colors are in their full, fiery splendor. as he steps outside, the air is crisp but not too cold, just enough to warrant a light jacket, with the occasional breeze that carries the earthy scent of fallen leaves. the city’s famous skyline stretches against a sky that shifts between deep blue and soft gray, as the sun begins its descent, casting golden light over everything.

he’s trying so hard to see beauty in things, to keep himself afloat. rafe is numb. not even the hardest drug can make him feel anything. sometimes he does admire the nature around him, and to see the blue of the sky, in its immensity, makes him realize that, in a good way, none of this is real. none of this means anything.

we are all just cells, wandering around.

the sounds of the city seem a little softer in the fall, as people slow down to take in the beauty around them. a gentle hum of traffic can be heard in the distance, while the occasional laughter of children playing outside or the sound of a distant train passing through the city adds to the ambiance.

rafe has always had a soft spot for children. well, not exactly children, but what they represent. a kind of purity that seems untouched by the complexities and burdens of the adult world. it’s in the way they see the world with wide-eyed wonder, where everything is new and full of possibility. their joy is spontaneous, like a burst of laughter that rings out without reason, simply because they are in the moment. their innocence is also in their ability to feel deeply, yet let go just as easily. they live in the present, their hearts and minds unburdened by the weight of regret or worry. oh, and their unwavering belief in the goodness of the world. that sense of trust in the world, in people, in their own ability to be loved and to love in return, is a beautiful, fragile thing, one that people often lose or forget as they grow older (rafe knows it better than anyone else), but can still glimpse in the eyes of a child.

he would give anything to feel that way again.

whenever he remembers his childhood, rafe feels a sense of regret, an overwhelming desire to find a way to go back in time. oh, if only he could. be a child with no real worries. run through the freshly mowed grass, stumble and fall, and be comforted by his mother.

perhaps his luck has run out. he’s managed to leave a life of crime behind and come out of it mostly unscathed, he can’t just think that he can expect to find love - any type of love - in the same lifetime.

while walking through the park, rafe notices a young woman sitting on the grass, enjoying an ice cream. she seems carefree, just in the moment, observing everything around her. as he walks, he manages to get closer to her and... oh my god.

it’s her.

it’s her.

with each step taken towards her, rafe feels his heart beat faster. a mix of anxiety and excitement for finally having found her, after a year.

he stops right next to her, with his hands on the front pockets of his jacket, and waits until she notices his presence. when she does, she looks up, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“hi.”

“oh, my god. cameron?!”

i'd love to know your thoughts!!!

[ilyrafe]

thinking about riding rafe's thigh in the back of his truck, your bare pussy sore from grinding against him, trying to reach your high. his hands firmly on your hips pressing you down against him hard while he whispers filthy things in your ears.

"you look so good on top of me, baby. grinding so hard against my thigh. such a freaking slut. c'mon, cum f' me, make a mess all over daddy's jeans."

[ilyrafe]

snooze - r.c.

(season 4 bf!rafe x gf!reader blurb, 4.1k words)

summary Your man works harder than anyone you know, and you couldn’t love him more for it, but some mornings you just want to hold on to him a little longer…

content fluff/smut, mutual mast., p in v, 18+ minors do not interact

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Rafe’s alarm rings through the large bedroom like a blaring siren, jerking you violently from the sweet sleep you were just wrapped in. He doesn’t hear it at first, still sound asleep next to you, snores rumbling through his bare chest.

You blink your eyes open, the room is still dark, though the first golden rays of the sunrise creep in through the small crack in the curtains. You twist your body towards Rafe, snuggling your head into his neck, an attempt to both shield your eyes from the sunlight and get his attention, desperate for him to silence the loud alarm.

After a few seconds, he still hasn’t heard it, so you reach up and gently tap his cheek.

“Baby,” you groan, cheek pressed against his shoulder. “Too loud.” 

Rafe takes a deep breath in, eyes still closed as he reaches his bedside table, tapping his phone screen clumsily until the sound subsides.

He settles back in, placing a quick kiss onto the top of your head as he pulls you into his side. You sigh happily, running your nails softly up and down his chest and stomach, drawing little hearts and stars on his skin. He shivers when you graze over the soft skin of his lower stomach, following his happy trail down to his waistband. You fully plan on dipping your hand below it, where he’s already twitching and firming up for you under his sweatpants, but you get distracted by the delicious deep V lines on either side of his waist. You dip your pointer finger into the valley of muscle and trace the shape down, switching to the other side and drawing back up.

He stirs when you angle your finger to scratch lightly with your manicured nail, lingering just above the band of his Calvins that peeks out from his sweats.

“That’s so nice, baby,” he mumbles in his deep, crackling morning voice, “I love these hands.”

Rafe laces his fingers in yours with one hand, his other arm sliding under your neck and wrapping around your shoulders. He pulls you close so he can drop a sloppy kiss on your temple.

You sigh and lift your intertwined hands to place a kiss on each of his knuckles.

“Maybe you should stay home,” you suggest between kisses. “Then you can enjoy these hands all day long.”

He smiles knowingly, still not opening his eyes. You play this game every morning, trying to find ways to convince him to play hooky from work, though they never succeed. He’s always showered and out the door by sunrise, leaving you with a cup of coffee on your nightstand and a quick kiss as you drift back to sleep.

“Sounds perfect, but I have an 8 a.m. with a potential investor,” he explains.

In the quiet, Rafe starts to drift off again. You continue to stroke his chest and think of all the many enticing reasons for him to stay, but before you can list them for him, his alarm blares from his phone again. 

You lean over him, reaching to the phone on his nightstand. He takes the opportunity to snake his hand around your waist and slide it under his big t-shirt you're wearing. His hands feel so nice on your lower back, you pause, almost forgetting what you were reaching for in the first place, until the alarm rings out again, making you both wince with its volume. You tap the screen desperately until it’s silenced.

“Just hitting snooze so we can have five more minutes,” you say, settling down over him and resting your cheek on his chest.

“Liar,” he says with a sleepy smirk. “You turned it off.”

You fake an offended gasp, “I can’t believe you’re accusing me of such deception, Rafe Cameron.”

“So when five minutes go by and the alarm doesn’t go off again, what are you gonna say then?”

“I was hoping you’d fall back to sleep by then,” you confess with a giggle, laying a soft kiss on his chest, right over his heart.

“I knew it.”

He sits up in bed, causing you to fall back onto the pillows, immediately missing his warmth. You paw at his arm as he reaches over to check the time on his phone.

“Nooo,” you whine. “Don’t go yet.”

He smiles down at you, leaning over to place loving kisses on the edge of your jaw and up your face, touching his lips to your temple one final time before standing from the bed.

Your vision is still fuzzy from sleep and the darkness of the room, but you follow the general shape of him as he walks to the wall of windows on the other side of the room. He’s shirtless, the lower half of his body covered in soft gray sweats. You squirm a little under the comforter as you take him in. You didn’t know it was possible to be this attracted to someone, but it’s like every day you’re with him, your body craves him more, and it makes it that much more painful when he leaves.

Rafe interrupts your reverie by lifting his arms and throwing the curtains wide open. You flinch at the bright sunlight that pours through the windows like it’s burning you.

“Too bright, Rafe!” You protest. 

He just turns with a smug smile, his tall silhouette casting a shadow over the bed, blocking you from the blinding sun.

“I’ll make you some coffee before I go,” he promises as he leaves you alone in the bedroom, pulling a pillow over your face to shield yourself from the daylight.

It’s silly to complain when his hard work is the whole reason you can lay in this comfortable bed so late into the morning. When he’s not with you, he’s at the office, earning you all this comfort, but it still seems unfair when you want him this badly.

You used to be an early riser, but the way he lays you down every night when he gets home, fucking you hard and slow until you fall asleep clinging to him, it’s made you a whole new person. You’d pay him twice his salary if you had it just to get him to stick around a little longer, make you feel that good again.

A devious idea comes to your brain, and you pull the covers from yourself quickly, making fast moves before he gets back.

When Rafe comes back into the room a few minutes later, he nearly spills your hot coffee all over himself at the sight that greets him.

The comforter is bundled at the end of the bed, nothing covering your body as you stretch out on the mattress. You’ve switched out his t-shirt and your baggy sweats for a silky pair of boy-short panties and a lacy bra. You're facing away from him, laying on your side, the curve of your hips and peekaboo view of your ass casting a scandalous shadow on the wall. The fabric of your panties is so flimsy, it climbs up the curve of your ass, revealing you to him as if they’re barely there at all.

“Nice try,” he shakes his head, though the small crack in his voice betrays his defiance. You know you’ve got him hard and frazzled.

“Hmmm?” You don’t turn to look at him, instead bending your knee and sliding one leg up higher to give him an even better angle of your ass. 

“It’s not gonna work…” he insists, setting your coffee down, fully intending to turn and make his way to the walk-in closet to get dressed, yet somehow finding himself completely immobile.

“What’s not going to work?” You echo, feigning cluelessness in a way you know is gonna drive him mad.

“I really do have a meeting,” he continues his one-sided argument, trying desperately to convince himself. “I can’t be late, it’s important.”

“Okay! Have a good day, baby,” you yawn, shifting on the sheets as if you’re just getting comfortable, hoping he doesn’t see the smile you’re hiding in your pillow, obsessed with the strain in his voice that reveals his resolve is cracking.

The mattress sinks slowly under his weight, and you can feel the heat of him before he even touches your skin. His hand slides up your leg, from your ankle all the way up to your thigh, where he pauses to squeeze your flesh. 

“You’re gonna be late,” you let your mouth twist into a cheeky smile. 

He huffs a defeated laugh, letting his forehead fall onto your shoulder in frustration, “you’re killing me.”

“I’m not doing anything!” You giggle, arching your back and giving him a better glimpse at the other side of you, your nipples already pebbling in anticipation, clearly visible through your see through bra.

Rafe responds by saying your name, so low and needy it’s almost inaudible. You twist your torso just enough to meet his eyes, blinking at him sweetly through your eyelashes.

“Yes?”

He doesn’t respond with words, just a piercing gaze. His blue eyes are blown wide with lust as he takes you in, dragging over your body helplessly, fighting an internal battle as he plots his next move. Filthy thoughts are etched on his face, you know him well enough by now to see the gears turn behind his eyes, imagining all the things he could do to you if he stayed.

“Can I at least have a kiss before you go?” You ask, hoping the taste of your lips will tip the scales in your favor.

He can’t deny you a kiss, he never does, so he leans in and meets your lips with a nod, his hand rising to softly cradle your jaw. You run your tongue so gently across his lower lip that he wonders if he imagined it. When you part your lips for him and release a small sigh, the game is over.

With another squeeze of your thigh, he pulls back from you just enough to reach his phone on the nightstand. You watch with a victorious grin as he types out a quick message, surely to his secretary, and tosses the phone somewhere on the bed. 

“Bought us an hour,” he tells you.

“Only an hour?” You pout.

“Don’t be greedy,” he teases you, shuffling behind you so he can spoon you, placing a dozen quick kisses up your arm, making you giggle in delight.

Rafe’s hand slides from your thigh to your waist, dipping to splay over your stomach so he can pull you flush against him. You sigh dreamily as he begins to suckle on your neck, leaving little pink marks everywhere his lips touch.

“Wasn’t that kind of an important meeting?” You ask, feeling a little guilty for potentially making him miss out on a good opportunity.

“Nothing’s more important than this,” he assures you.

You let out a little whimper at his sweet words, igniting a fire in him. His hand drifts up your stomach until his palm is settled over your breast, kneading gently. 

“Oh,” you gasp. “That feels good.” 

“Yeah?” He drawls with a crooked grin, pausing to drag the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear, making you shiver. “Just needed a little attention today?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Needed you.”

His hand leaves you for a minute to fiddle with the clasp of your bra. You lift your arms up so he can slide it off and toss it somewhere on the floor of the massive master suite.

The rough skin of his palm comes back to rest over your hard nipple, the sensation is so sweet that your whole body hums with pleasure. 

“God you’re so soft,” he breathes over the wet spot he’s just left on your skin, “love these tits so much.”

With that confession, he pinches your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, the pain lasting only a second before he smoothes it over with the pad of his thumb.

“Rafe!” You squeak out at the sting.

He shushes you gently, lowering his mouth to pull your earlobe between his teeth, the pressure strong, but not strong enough to pull your mind from the way his hand is dropping lower on your torso towards your panties. A pool of silky arousal gathered between your legs, you rub your thighs together in search of friction as his hand continues to move maddeningly slow.

“Don’t worry baby,” he coos, “gonna take good care of you like I always do.”

Your fingernails dig into the sheets in preparation when he finally reaches the band of your panties, lifting them to slide his hand in.

“You always take such good care of me, Rafe,” you agree.

He places his other arm under your head for support, allowing you to look down at the outline of his big hand wriggling under the damp cloth of your panties. His fingers find your entrance easily, pausing outside to swirl in your wetness.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he praises. “Always so ready for me.”

After a few more swirls, he’s satisfied with the coating, dragging his fingers back up to your clit. He hits it right away, he could find it in a hurricane. He runs his fingers over you at the perfect angle, starting with delicate figure eights.

Your head falls forward in ecstasy, unable to form words. Rafe bends his arm at the elbow, laying his hand flat against your forehead to pull your head back into his chest, your neck arching with the stretch. The pink spots he’s left on your exposed throat have darkened nicely, giving him a chance to appreciate his handiwork. He reattaches his lips, desperate to claim you as many times as he can, hungry for you.

The sweetest, breathiest moans fall from your puffy lips, and he basks in them like the sunlight that’s bleeding through the curtains. He’s nibbling on your shoulder like it’s his breakfast as his fingers pick up speed on your clit. 

Between circles and flicks, he stops to tap quickly with the tip of his middle finger, the rhythmic pressure and release has the sensitive bud pulsing. You chase his fingers pathetically with the roll of your hips, needing more.  

As you writhe, his cloth covered cock slots between the valley of your ass, each wave of your hips grinding perfectly against his shaft. You shut your eyes tight, picturing his perfect length and the gorgeous noises he makes when he comes. You need to hear those sounds like you need air.

Your hand releases from the sheets, reaching behind you to rub the hard ridge of his dick over his sweatpants. Rafe clenches his jaw, a throaty groan vibrating through his chest and straight into your body. 

“This what you wanted, angel?” He asks, his tone dominant and desperate all at the same time. The perfect balance of ownership and a genuine urgency to please you.

“Just wanted you,” you confirm through labored pants, grinding yourself into his hand, “all I ever want is you.”

“Oh yeah? Show me.”

No further instruction needed, your hand finally dips below his waistband, immediately finding his pulsing cock. 

“Shi-ii-t,” he shudders as you wrap your fingers around him, stroking slowly and reveling in how hard you’ve made him.

You notice goosebumps rush up the arm that’s disappearing into your panties, you realize your hands must be cold. You know he’d never complain, but you don’t just want him to feel good, you want him to feel as amazing as he makes you feel.

You draw your hand back from his boxers, and he groans at your absence, nearly protesting until he sees what you’re doing. You dip your hand into your underwear, gently nudging his out of the way, and collect some of your wetness onto your own fingers. Your hand glistens in the morning sunlight when you pull it out, displaying it for him before returning your grip to his cock.

He’s speechless. Eyes rolling back at how fucking sexy that was, desperate to ground himself before he comes too quickly in your hand. He moves his palm down from your forehead to cup your throat, not too much pressure to hurt, but enough to remind you how strong he is. You whimper, swallowing hard under his broad palm.

“Jesus christ, baby,” he sputters, “you’re my fucking dream girl.” 

You fall in sync, Rafe rubbing tight, firm circles over your clit, while you slide your hand up and down his shaft, pausing at the tip with each stroke to swirl your thumb in the precum he’s leaking. His knuckles flex in response to each flick of your thumb, pads of his fingers holding and releasing your neck in steady pulses. 

You squeeze his cock as he squeezes your throat, so perfectly aligned in your drunken pleasure that you both chuckle at how unbelievable it feels. But if you’re laughing, then surely he’s not doing a good enough job.  

He draws your clit between his fingers, rolling over and over, not pinching too hard, but just hard enough to set every nerve ending in your body on fire. You draw your knees up, your hand slowing involuntarily on his cock as you feel the familiar coil tighten in your tummy, seconds from snapping.

“I can’t believe you’re real, you’re so perfect,” Rafe whispers into your shoulder, kissing you over and over.

“Gonna make me come talking like that, baby,” you warn him.

“You want that? You want me to make you come in my hand?”

“Not yet,” you choke out, so close that you’re already dreading coming down from your high. It’s too soon, it’s not enough. No amount of him will ever be enough, but you at least need him closer. “Want you inside, need you in me.”

“Anything. Anything you want,” he swears as he pulls his hand from your core to rip your panties down your legs. You pull them off over your feet and toss them away as he removes his pants and boxers behind you. 

The fabric finally out of the way, his dick spears into your back, somehow always so much bigger and more powerful than you remember. You pray he doesn’t make you wait any longer, wriggling back onto your side so your soaked pussy is perfectly exposed to him. 

In the soft morning light, he finally gets a good view of your slick folds, nearly busting all over your back at the sight. He’s filled this new condo with the most expensive art he could find, but nothing comes close to the masterpiece in front of him. To him, you’re fucking priceless.

He wastes no more time, tucking a hand under your knee to angle your leg up. You take his cue, understanding each other without words as always, and brace your foot flat against his calf, propping yourself open for him.

A combination of the angle and his picture perfect memory of your walls has his tip hitting your g-spot on the very first thrust. He stretches you so sweetly, the tight fit making your brain go foggy and your mouth fall open, gasping helplessly.

“Like this?” He asks, not taunting but not really asking either, already knowing the answer to “this how you want it?”

“Not quite,” you whisper. 

He freezes with confusion before you reach behind you to find the hand he has braced on your hip, pulling it up and placing it back around your neck.

“There,” you say, “now it’s perfect.”

“Holy shit,” Rafe stammers, hips jerking forward, slamming into you a little too hard, lost in his infatuation with you. 

At first he worries it’s too hard, but a dreamy moan rises from your throat and you encourage, “yes, yes, like that, please.”

Mouth agape in disbelief at his pure fucking luck in finding you, he obeys your plea, pulling back slow before thrusting in hard again. The hand that’s not on your throat pushes into the mattress beneath your head, lifting himself up for leverage. He continues to fuck into you hard, pausing after each stroke to hit as deep as he can possibly get. You’re a mess, crying out with each slap of his hips against your ass, blabbering incoherently as you clench around him.

“Ohhh my god you’re so tight,” he growls through gritted teeth. “‘I’m gonna come if you keep squeezing me like that. You gonna let me come inside?”

Your eyes fly open as an invisible light bulb goes off above your head, you twist to meet his eyes, his lids low and irises completely blown out with lust.

“If I do, will you stay home?” you proposition him.

He scoffs, shaking his head in pure amusement and adoration, tongue digging into the side of his cheek in the cocky way you love. From this angle, the sharp features of his perfect face hover just inches from yours. The sheer attraction you feel makes your walls flutter around his cock, a tease of his reward if he promises to stay.

Rafe screws his eyes shut, his head falling back as you pulse around him repeatedly.

“Fuck! Yes, I promise, I promise,” he cries out as he continues thrusting into you sloppily, “I’ll do anything. I’ll sell my house, I’ll change my fucking name. Just ask me and I’ll do it.”

His theatrics delight you, bubbly giggles rising from your stomach as he loses himself in you. You can’t remember ever loving anyone as much as you love him at this moment.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, completely enamored with the man inside you.

Without a thought, he slips the hand on your throat to the back of your neck, kneading your skin as he pulls your mouth to his. It’s not gentle, like his typical good morning kisses, it’s messy and wet and hard and completely mind numbing. You bite on his bottom lip, almost accidentally, losing your mind at the taste of him.

“B-baby,” he stutters, his hips doing the same, “can’t - fuck -  can’t wait any longer. Tell me where you want it.”

“Mmmph, inside, please! Please fill me up, Rafe.”

It’s all he needs to hear, he buries himself deeper than he’s ever been. 

“Come with me?” he pleads.

You’re so close, you can’t even find words, nodding rapidly. He hits your g-spot one final time and you slip off the edge of the earth into uncut ecstasy.

Your eyes roll back and your toes dig into his leg, bruising his calf. His tip hits your cervix hard, hot cum pooling deep in your core, spilling out of him for longer than you thought possible. His breath is ragged and his chest heaving as his body jerks around you.

Both trembling, his arm gives out and he slumps down, curled around you. Sweaty and satisfied, you catch your breath together, Rafe still buried deep. 

He plants wet kisses on the nape of your neck, brushing your hair out of the way and blowing gently to cool you down. You see only bright white behind your closed eyes, floating in a perfect pleasure you didn’t know was possible until you met this man.

After a few moments, or possibly hours, he starts to pull out. Your hips chase his defiantly, refusing to lose his warmth again.

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head, reaching back to grab his hip and hold him in place. “You promised.”

“I also promised to change my name, you gonna make me do that, too?” He laughs.

“Maybe.”

“Oh really? What are you gonna call me?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. “How about daddy?”

Your teasing has the intended effect, Rafe twitching inside you, already hardening again. He knows you’re just playing with him, but his mind spirals out of control at the pet name. He’s so in love he thinks it might kill him.

Settling back into you, he reaches around the bed until his hand finds his discarded cell phone.

Your lips twist into a smirk as you hear him dial, still buried in your heat.

The dial tone rings a few times and he says, “yeah, gonna need you to clear my whole day. Something came up.”

He thanks the voice on the other line, hanging up and tossing his phone somewhere in the mountain of blankets on the floor.

“A whole day?” You ask, nestling back into his chest. “Aren’t you gonna lose the money from those investors?”

“Probably,” he shrugs, laying more slow kisses on your shoulder. “Worth every fucking cent.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[ilyrafe]

erase me

exboyfriend!rafe cameron x exgirlfriend!reader

— “ and i wonder who will erase me? ”

content: unhealthy relationship post-breakup, hookups, sexual themes, drinking, toxic cycles, SMALL ONE-SHOT idc

authors note: “erase me” by lizzy mcalpine has been my hyper fixation song lately n i was just watching the music video when i thought to myself huh. this would so fit with rafes character !

his lips are soft against your skin, pulling slowly away just to dive in again. he’s savoring every noise, every taste, every sight, every part of you.

his back is bare, freckles scattered across the ivory that you’ve thought about tracing once or twice before, only if you ever stuck around long enough.

his fingers curl inside you, erupting a reaction that he chases after. you’re like a drug to him. his tongue grinds—swirling, flicking, teasing. he’s giving his all to you. to please you. to make you feel like you never have before.

but there’s just something off.

you lower your chin to look at him through heavy lids. his forehead is licked with sweat, cheeks soft red but his lips swollen from working on you. the realisation comes faster than you do.

for the past eighteen minutes you have not had a present bone in your body. he started eighteen minutes ago, and not once have you released yet, or felt like you wanted to.

it’s almost embarrassing, needless to say more for him and less for you, but you can still feel second-hand. your mind can wander but it doesn’t stray from the fact that he can’t give you what you need. but you know who can.

just as you look closer, he’s pulling himself off of you to flip you onto your stomach so he can fuck you. it’s raw, and he slips his cock inside of you easily—it’s just better than whatever the hell he was doing before.

his hips snap brutally against your own, his chest pressed against your back as he curves his hand around your throat, applying pressure. there.

that’s when you feel it. not him, but that familiar sense. a warmth you know all too well. you’ve been tossed, turned, flipped, thrown, all for the pleasure of a man. here, it’s no different.

your phone lights up on the nightstand, and all you can think about is him again. his grunts in your ear, encouraging you to keep holding yourself up so he can murmur how pathetic you are so that the praises hit better. you’d rather feel the tip of his cock finding your g-spot over and over again until you string out a moan, barely comprehensible but you know that he can make out his own name from your lips.

rafe.

you wanna say it again—rafe. but it’s fine. right here is fine. this guy’s fucking you in his bed. he’s surely some eye candy, and he’s been gentle with you all night. the sex can be rough though, and maybe that’s what you need.

still, something stirs in you, and you know that it’s not what you want.

you wake up to the pale yellow light filtering through unfamiliar blinds. the room is silent, save for the soft breathing of the guy beside you. he’s sprawled out, dead asleep, dark hair ruffled, face turned away. you don’t even remember his name—just that he’s neighbors with your friend who hosted the party last night.

your head throbs, a steady, unforgiving ache that pulses behind your eyes, and the sour taste of rum still lingers on your tongue. you shift slightly, feeling the rough fabric of his sheets against your bare skin, and suddenly, an emptiness sinks in, heavy and suffocating. you’re barely dressed, just his oversized t-shirt clinging to you like a ghost of whatever last night was supposed to mean.

you stare blankly ahead, your head propped on a pillow, but your body turns away from him, toward the edge of the bed. your arm dangles off the side, fingertips brushing the floor. it’s ironic, how last night’s distraction becomes this morning’s reminder of how desperate you are to erase him—rafe.

you stay like that for a moment, unmoving, letting the sting of it seep in. the room smells like cologne and stale alcohol. he’s nice enough, you think vaguely. kind eyes, a smile that had been warm just last night.

but now, it’s empty. meaningless.

you push yourself up slowly, carefully, so you don’t wake him. your fingers shake a little as you pull on your clothes from the night before, you don’t bother with anything else. you move quietly as you gather your shoes and slip them on, not daring to glance back.

when you step out into the early morning air, the street is quiet, the world still practically waking up. rafe’s name pounds in your head with each step you take.

your hand shakes as you pull your phone from your pocket, staring at his name in your contact list. you shouldn’t call him. you know that. but the ache, the gnawing desperation to hear something from him, is too much to resist. your thumb hovers for a second too long, then you press the call button before you can think better of it.

it rings. once. twice. you almost hope he doesn’t pick up, that you can hang up and convince yourself you were just being stupid. but then the line clicks, and his voice cuts through, sharp and unforgiving.

“what?” his voice is rough, low, the way it gets when he’s been up all night. you can picture him now, jaw tight, blue eyes dark and narrowed. your pulse quickens.

you swallow, suddenly dry-mouthed. “rafe,” you mumble. “hey.”

“are you serious right now?” he snaps, and you can hear the rustle of sheets, like he’s sitting up. “don’t call me, y/n. i don’t want to hear your voice.”

the words sting, but they don’t stop you. they never do. you almost smile, that twisted, sick part of you that craves this, the heat of his anger, the way it matches the storm in your chest.

“why not?” your voice comes out quieter than you mean it to, a little rasp from sleep and the lingering effects of alcohol. “you sound wide awake for someone who doesn’t wanna talk.”

there’s a pause, just long enough for you to think he might hang up, but then his voice comes back, clearer, like he’s got the mic pressed right against his mouth. “you’re unbelievable—‘hear me? un-believable. you leave that party with some random guy and then you call me? is this some kind of game to you?”

“it wasn’t like that,” you mutter, but it’s half-hearted. it was exactly like that. your shame burns hotter under rafe’s scalding words.

“no? then what is it, hmph? because lately, all you’ve done is show me just how fast you can try to replace me,” he spits, voice laced with something that sounds dangerously close to hurt.

your grip on the phone tightens, nails digging into your palm. “it’s not like you’re innocent,” you say, the words barely a whisper. it’s pathetic, you know it is, but it’s all you have.

“don’t turn this around on me,” he snaps. “yeah, i know what you’re trying to do, running off with random guys like it’s supposed to mean something. you think i don’t hear about it? but you call me? after all of this, you still call me?”

his voice cracks at the end, barely perceptible, and that tiny break twists something in your chest. you press your lips together, trying not to let him hear the way your breath shakes despite your smile.

“rafe—”

“no,” he interrupts, hard, a finality to it that hits you like a slap. “don’t call me again.”

the line goes dead, and for a moment, you just stand there, staring at the phone in your hand. you feel some strange, hollow satisfaction just from hearing his voice, hearing him angry, hearing him give a fuck, even if it’s in the worst way.

a bitter smile tugs at your lips, but it fades just as fast, leaving a dull ache in its place. your teeth graze your bottom lip, the embarrassment settling in, thick and heavy. what were you even hoping to get out of that?

you shove your phone back into your pocket, the regret sinking in as you start to walk.

the music pulses through the room. you dance, eyes closed, while two faces are close, dancing around you, their hands lightly grazing your hips, steadying you as you sway. you can feel the warmth of their laughter and the faint pull of their fingers, but your mind is elsewhere. you’re not thinking about them. you’re not even thinking about yourself. you’re thinking about him.

rafe stands across the room, one hand gripping a cup. his jaw is tight, eyes narrowed as he watches you from a distance.

he notices everything. the way your hair tumbles over your shoulders, the curve of your lips when you laugh at something someone whispers in your ear, the way your body responds, a subtle roll of your hips, when the beat drops. it’s infuriating.

you’re so far away, yet every move you make drags him closer to the edge. he hates it. hates that you’re pretending not to see him. hates that you’re acting like this—so carefree, so untethered, so far from the girl he remembers.

someone bumps into you, hard enough that you stumble slightly. rafe’s grip on his drink tightens, the glass groaning under the strain of his fingers. but then he sees it—how you turn and smile, an easy, genuine smile, and apologize to the stranger as if the fault was yours.

not even a hint of annoyance, not a trace of the sharpness he knows you have when provoked.

he watches, feeling the burn of it—how can you be so good, so kind, yet crave the venom he’s always fed you?

do they know you called him this morning just to hear him snap at you, that you needed the sound of him furious just to feel close? he doesn’t think so, but he’s in awe, and it makes him hate you, hate himself.

how do you still do this to him?

the trance is broken when sofia appears, slipping from the hallway with a playful smile. she says something—something about the line for the bathroom being longer than ever, that everyone’s probably considering the ocean instead.

he smiles, nodding as he pulls her in, an arm draped around her shoulders. the shift in his attention is deliberate, as if trying to convince himself he doesn’t care. as if touching someone else, being close to someone else, could drown out the low hum of you in his veins.

and that’s when you open your eyes, half-lidded and hazy, the world coming into focus with a few blinks. you glance around, a soft smile still curving your lips, until your gaze lands on them.

there’s no hiding the small, faint frown that pulls at your mouth. it’s barely there, but still is. you watch rafe let her take his drink, her fingers brushing his as she sips. your eyes flick down, betraying you for a moment as you take in their closeness, and then, just like that, you look away.

there’s a sting behind your eyes, but it’s not strong enough to stop you. you press your lips into a thin line, exhaling sharply as you turn back to the crowd. you don’t pause before reaching for the hand of a guy nearby, someone whose name you won’t remember tomorrow. again.

you lace your fingers through his and pull him with you, stepping through the bodies and toward the stairs. he watches, his mouth set in a thin line, but he doesn’t move. he just watches you walk away.

it all twists something inside you, bitter and raw, but you keep walking. maybe you and rafe are both pretending it’s over, trying to find where you begin without each other. at least you know now who’s painting over the last parts of you.

erasing you.

a/n: wanted to just leave it here and kind of quickly depict toxic cycles & the two POVs 😭 bc yea they are so NOT over each other

tags: @iiszaa @lotuslovers @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @yootvi @skyslowalking @hoelesslyt @ariiwritess @beebeerockknot @0-tatiana-0