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ivesdio · 6 hours ago

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AGAIN . . ? ⋆.˚

summary: after a night out, you wake up in a bed you know all too well.. again.

warnings: single mention of vomiting (she’s hungover let a girl live smh), reference to previous sexual activities, ending leads to sex, but no details are given - lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: hi lovelies!! this is my obx fic writer debut, so pretty please go easy on me :,) my requests are open 24/7 and i’m really excited to be in this amazin community! enjoy this lil thing xx

wc: 922

you groan, your head feeling like it’s being, repeatedly, banged against a wall, lids heavy with sleep and an impending hangover. the morning sunlight shining in through the covers was blinding, another tired sound slipping past your lips.

you think nothing of it when you notice that the messy sheets surrounding you are different from yours - that’s ‘cause you’d changed them not too long ago.

but when the sound of movement behind you breaks your thoughts, you sigh in.. disappointment? anger? anyway; the feeling was targeted towards yourself.

your phone vibrates next to the pillow your head was resting on, an alarm chiming in the warm room. you turn it off, taking it in your hands. a text catches your eye.

ah, fuck.

sar 🤍

pls don’t telk me that u lrft wit my brotger again

Delivered: 01:54 AM

well.. that confirms your suspicions.

you and rafe had an.. interesting relationship, to put it mildly. glances around tannyhill soon became hook-ups in his bedroom and truck after parties. sneaking around the cameron household, stolen kisses and sweat beaded bodies slowly becoming a norm.

but, damn it, was he fucking imposs—

“fuck you doin’ up so early?” rafe’s voice invades your hearing, making you wonder if killing yourself would be a good option right about now.

“how much did i have t’drink?” you grumble as you put down your phone and press your cheek against the cool pillow, your face slightly squished.

“why?” he asks, his tone lacking any sign of patience. shocking.

“‘cause i’m here. again,” a dry scoff leaves your raw throat (probably from the vomiting. great fuckin’ job!).

“..a decent amount,” he answers, chuckling with no emotion behind the small laugh “way too early for this shit, baby,” the nickname spills from his lips before he could even think about it - a habit, almost.

“told y’not to call me that, rafe,” you mumble, groaning hoarsely when you sit up and stand up from the plush bed. you catch a glimpse of yourself in his mirror, brows furrowing as you gaze into the glass.

yesterday’s clothes? gone.

panties? still there.

what was new, though, was the black tee framing your body. the fabric was soft and smelled of.. him. fuck, his perfume was intoxicating. what did he use again? eh, whatever - all you knew was that it smelled divine. and expensive.

“did we..?” you ask carefully, turning to face him from your place on the floor. he simply shakes his head, huffing.

“nah. drunk outta your mind.”

you nod in acknowledgment, biting the inside of your cheek in thought.

“did you.. want to?” another question from you fills the room. he shrugs, sitting up. the white covers fall from his bare upper half, crumpling in his lap.

“no shit,” he scoffs, scratching his nose before he continues, “didn’t wanna.. y’know— take advantage of you. basic human decency and stuff. would’a been wrong.”

he was rambling. a bit, at least. you’d never seen him like this and.. to be completely honest? it was kinda cute. you nod again, the corners of your mouth tilting up a bit. you try to fight the smile starting to break through, but god, was it difficult.

“right, yeah. uh.. thanks,” you mutter and chuckle quietly. to your complete surprise, his lips turn up an inch, a hint of a smile playing on them. he stands up and the duvet falls behind him, a pair of boxers being the only thing on his toned form. he steps closer to you, towering. bastard.

“sarah texted?” he asks, tilting his head. fuck him and his fucking teasing, and his fucking smile, and his—

“mhm. jumble of letters, really, but yeah. why?” you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. you don’t miss the way rafe’s baby blues flicker down to the movement, before meeting your gaze again.

“think we have some time ‘fore she scolds us again?” his voice was just barely above a whisper, a small smirk grazing the corner of his mouth.

“maybe,” you reply, shrugging.

before you could fully finish saying the word, his lips were crashing into yours, big hands cradling your face. his ring was cold against your heated skin. an audible hitch of your breath travels into his mouth as you kiss him back, your own hands brushing up his muscular arms. his biceps flex underneath your touch, the feeling sending a jolt up your spine.

he’s devouring your fucking face at this point - like a man starved. your back meets a wall, a soft gasp leaving your mouth. rafe swallows the sound, a small grunt escaping his throat. he pulls away after a few moments, his forehead resting against yours as he pants.

“fuck, baby.. can’t stay away for t’long,” he whispers, “that okay with you?”

you chuckle, slightly out of breath, “d’you hear me complaining?”

“that’s my girl,” he drawls, his signature smirk filling your sight.

in one swift motion, his hands reach down and grasp your thighs, lifting you up. instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist. he leaves small wet kisses on your neck, his breath hot against yours skin, all while his thumb rubs circles into the small of your back.

your back meets his plush bed again, the man in front of you already on his knees. his eyes flicker from your panties to your eyes, that fucking proud smirk plastered on his smug face.

“you got time, right?” he chuckles, kissing up your inner thigh.

you nod, breathing heavily.

oh, you were definitely sober now.

#ivy writes ᝰ.ᐟ #rafey ⋆#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you

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