#OBX 3

[simpforboys]

daddy’s money

rafe cameron x fem!pogue!reader

summary: rafe overhears someone being rude to you at your job. it doesn’t end well for either of you, but rafe tries to make up for it.

warnings: arguing, violence (a punch is thrown), protective!rafe, sugar daddy!rafe (?!??), fluff, reader can speak spanish (but race or anything isn't described), not proof read

these are based on my personal experiences (love working retail), just minus the punching

the ring of the bell made your ears perk up as you folded clothes.

you began working at amor, a popular clothing shop for kooks of all ages about a year ago. why they hired you, a pogue, was beyond you, but nonetheless you appreciated it.

especially since your manager, kat, loved you, as she came from rags and rising to riches.

you loved your job, being able to wear casual dresses and clothes, as half the store was beachy clothes and the other half was fancier.

“is that y/n l/n?”

you turned your head to see rafe cameron, kook prince. you hadn’t seen him in awhile, his hair now buzzed as he walked with the same prideful look.

you grinned, putting the shirt you were folding onto the table before hugging the tall man.

you and rafe had a thing, as one day he came into the shop you two immediately hit it off.

“did you find everything okay?” you asked, trying not to stare at the attractive man in front of you.

you scanned the shorts and polo shirts he was buying, noticing him smiling down at you. his hair was pushed back with a baseball cap on his head.

“i did now,” he said slyly.

“oh yeah?” you grinned, taking the security tags off the clothes. a heat rose to your cheeks as you bagged his items.

“didn’t realize they had pretty girls working here, y/n.” the man read your name tag.

“i wouldn't say that..." you trailed off, not knowing the man's name.

"rafe, rafe cameron." a cameron, huh? it had shocked you, really. the camerons were all over the news and basically ran figure eight.

"your total is going to be $259.73." you couldn't help but peek as he pulled out his wallet, his gold card practically dissing you as he put it in the pinpad.

you handed him his receipt, feeling electricity as you two accidentally brushed hands. he smiled down at you, grabbing his bag.

"i'll see you around, y/n."

"have a good day, rafe."

you watched as he exited the building, but quickly turned around after he paused. you furrowed your brows as he walked back up to the register.

"can i take you out?"

the rest of the story turned around, but you still kept in touch with rafe until he was on the ship with his father. he never texted or called you back after that.

"thanks for answering me." you said sarcastically, trying to hide your beaming smile. even though you hadn't heard from him, you still missed talking and being around him.

"sorry, mama. things got tough."

rafe's eyes wandered your body. from the way your hair was styled, your shorts that displayed your pretty legs, cropped tank top that showed some cleavage with a hawaiian shirt over it to make it seem a bit more modest, although failing to do so.

"i bet, being a cameron isn't so easy, huh?" you teased, continuing to fold the shirts you had previously ditched.

rafe didn't get to respond before kat came over, cutting off your conversation. "y/n, hay un cliente (there is a customer)."

kat was a very strong person. her family had come from mexico in search of a new life, and kat had quickly picked up the pace as she was able to open up amor. the store allowed her family to move from the cut to figure eight. she was around 5'6, brown hair that looked black in some lighting, with a mole next to her top lip that just added to herself, in a weird way.

"lo veo (i see him)." working at amor, you quickly picked up on spanish (unless you already speak it). kat eyed rafe, before nodding at him and heading back to the fitting room.

"did you find everything okay?" you questioned the man. he was around 40, dressed in a collared shirt with jeans to match. he had a rolex on his wrist, displaying his wealth.

rafe had moved to look at some of the mannequins, staying close by.

the man didn't respond, scrolling on his phone. you pursed your lips together, biting back your tongue as you continued to scan his items. his body language seemed defensive as he stood away from you.

"i like your-"

unfortunately, working customer service you had some rude customers from time to time, especially being a pogue in kook territory.

"just zip it pogue and bag my clothes. and don't try anything suspicious, either."

you were taken aback by his comment.

"don't talk to her like that." rafe had appeared next to the register, his nostrils flaring as his normal blue eyes turned dark. his pupils were blown wide as he stared at the man like he was going to kill him.

"and who are you?" the man scoffed.

"she's just doing her job, dickhead."

"if she was just doing her job, she wouldn't be tryna talk to me. now, who are you? do you even work here?" the man eyed rafe angrily, trying to appear more dominate but ultimately failed. rafe was taller and seemed to be much stronger.

"rafe-" you tried.

"rafe cameron, is that right?" the man suddenly smirked, sizing rafe up.

"i should've known. all camerons are dicks, especially your father."

you saw how rafe clenched his fist, the veins in his hand looking like they were on the verge of exploding.

"but i never expected a cameron to be protecting a pogue, or less a whore."

you gasped as rafe's knuckles made contact with the man's cheek, a cracking sound that could be heard around the store.

"rafe!" you shouted as he shook his hand, trying to not beat the man to unconsciousness.

rafe saw red as he grabbed the man by his collar, dragging him out of the store. "never fucking come back, got that?"

the man, now with a bruised cheek that appeared to have a broken bone, quickly walked off. rafe spit on the floor, walking back into the store.

kat had come running over, the noise causing her to be alerted.

"y/n, what the hell was that?" she asked, her voice thick with an accent as she was fuming.

"he was being-"

"we have a no violence policy. i told you to stay away from that cabrón (asshole)." kat swore.

"kat-" the woman wasn't letting you finish.

"you know i love you, kid. but that was unacceptable."

your lip trembled as your heart sank. you knew what her next words were going to be.

"you're fired, and i want rafe out of the store permanently."

rafe watched the scene, opening his mouth to speak but quickly stopped himself. a tear ran down your cheek as you wiped it away.

"who needs this stupid job away," you mumbled. you grabbed rafe's bicep, guiding him out of the store.

once outside, you let go of him and slightly pushed him backwards. rafe stared at you in shock, his knuckles throbbing in pain.

"what was that for?"

"you got me fired, asshole!"

"you just let dickheads speak to you like that?" rafe asked, an appalled tone in his voice as his mouth slightly hung open.

"yes! i need money, i don't care what gross rich men say."

the north carolina heat radiated off of you two, seagulls squawking as they flew above.

"y/n-" he went to grab your hands but you pulled away.

"i don't have daddy's money to support me, rafe. you just cost me my entire income and home."

your words were harsh as you stared directly into his eyes, a flame ignited in you that he lit.

"listen, okay. i can take care of you."

rafe was trying to remain calm, not wanting to scare you away from him if he raised his voice too much.

"oh, yeah? how?"

"c'mon." rafe took you down to where barry was sitting in rafe's car. the man got out as he saw you and rafe approach, the tension thick.

"long time, y/n." barry nodded his head at you, which you pursed your lips in response and watched as rafe popped the trunk.

inside were cases as rafe opened one, shiny gold beaming off the sun to peek at you. your stomach dropped, looking between rafe and barry who had huge smirks on their faces.

"how did you-"

rafe carefully handed you a piece of gold, watching as you inspected it.

"each one is worth at least 20 grand. we're set for life with these, baby."

you let out a surprised laugh, any feel of anger going away from the sight of all the cases filled with your new riches.

"no bullshit, right?"

"100 percent real, honey. rafe melted it down himself."

rafe gave barry a death glare from the nickname he called you.

"how- where- you know what, never mind. i don't care. you guys are fucking loaded."

"we're loaded, y/n." rafe put his arm around you, bringing you into a side hug as you smelt his dior sauvage cologne.

you grinned, feeling rafe press a kiss to your temple as you hugged him tightly. you ran your hand up and down his muscular back as his hand went down to your lower back.

"so.... are you my sugar daddies?" you joked. barry laughed as rafe rolled his eyes.

"c'mon, country club. we got clients to see."

[undercovercameron]

sunspent

summary: you're relaxed and calm in the obx summer heat, and rafe simply cannot have that.

notes: filthy filthy filthy! sorry not sorry bout it. also minor obx 3 spoilers; ie his parents are on that damn island and its just him in their big ole house. semi public sex kink and def a choking kink beware or be scared! i truly cannot write anything without that damn hand around reader's throat.. that's my b. enjoy! also thank you so much for all the love on my fics and the followers... so excited for all i will write in the future and so incredibly full of love from you guys <3

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 2542

The whole day had been perfect. 

You woke up around 9:30, brushed your teeth, and went downstairs to have some oatmeal. By 10:30 you were in a bikini and setting out a towel on the back deck. 

The sun was fairly hot, but the early warnings of a storm gave a cooler breeze. Your towel was in the perfect spot between the shade where you could get full sun coverage without moving too much. 

Gentle music was playing from your speaker, something that sounded like what your mom listened to in highschool, and a couple vodka seltzers laid unopened in a small cooler for you to enjoy later. You were also halfway through a mystery book, and between the pages of every chapter you let the time drift away from you. 

The most relaxing part of the start of your day? Rafe had left the house around 9 and had yet to return by the time you cracked open your seltzer at 1 o’clock. No ranting, no typical Rafe-isms— just sunshine and Paula Abdul. You wished he was able to do this with you. 

It was so relaxing that you drifted off to sleep a little more than halfway through your drink, head resting on your folded arms. 

“Y/N.” Something rigid and distinctly shoe-like nudges your arm. “Baby.”

You just groan and turn over onto your back, arms following to protect your eyes from the sunlight. 

“Hi,” you croak, squinting, and peer up at him. He looks like the Statue of Liberty in this light— if the statue of liberty wore light wash jeans and slutty little beer brand t-shirts. (So on brand for him.)

“How long have you been out here?” He asks, bending to pick up what’s left of your seltzer for one final swig. 

“Since like 10:45.” Your face breaks in a yawn and your arms fall to the deck as your eyes get used to the light. A smile creeps onto your face. “What’ve you been doing?” You sit up on your hands, scanning his body. He looks kinda sweaty. 

“Um,” he starts, scratching at his forehead with a sigh. “Buncha shit. Went into a couple places to close Ward’s accounts with them—oh, I saw your mom at Cold Stone by the way.”

“Why were you at Cold Stone?” You grin, crossing your legs and pushing at his calf with your foot. He makes an innocent face, hands on his hips. He looks to the trees, playfully exasperated.

“Sometimes I need a milkshake, Y/N. What kind of question is that?” You snort. “Anyway— I think we should go out for dinner. It’s getting to be—shit, it’s almost 4.”

You’re silent, save for some puny, whiny noise you make at the mention of going out. You struggle to get up, a little wobbly on your feet, but Rafe catches you and hauls you up with a hand on your waist. 

“What?” He brushes the wispy hairs out of your face. “You don’t want to go out?” He searches your face, blue eyes squinting down at you, and you just pout. In the most mature way a 20-something can when faced with leaving her very rich boyfriend’s very nice house who has asked her to stay with him graciously for the very near future while his parents are retired on some island in the middle of the ocean. 

You curl a finger around the collar of his t-shirt, playing with it while you formulate an answer. 

“Where would we go?” Is what you settle on, ever the people pleaser. 

“I don’t know…” Rafe thinks, gaze drifting from you as he chews at his lip. You wind your arms around his shoulders, hands splayed across his wingspan. You pet the skin of his neck with your thumb, warm all over. You’re content just looking at him forever. 

“What if I’m hungry now?” You ask, ever so innocently, and Rafe thinks you’re serious until he catches the look on your face. 

“That right?” He grins, hand sliding down your back. He grabs at your ass and you squeak. “How hungry? Wait until after dinner?” He’s just teasing you honestly; it’s almost a hobby to see how desperate you get for him. 

“Rafe.” You pinch his shoulder. “That’s not funny.”

He just hums noncommittally, and dips to press a kiss to your neck. You shift up onto your tiptoes, wanting to be closer, and he hikes one of your legs up onto his hip. You can’t help the noise you make. 

“Rafe,” you breathe, grabbing at him. “We have to go inside.” He bows forward, dangling you towards the wood of the deck, and you just hold tighter onto his shoulders. 

“Why?” He murmurs, lost in your taste, and presses a kiss to your mouth that makes you shiver. “I don’t see why we have to.” He falls into a kneel, bringing you with him, and you suck in a surprised gasp. “Nobody’s around.”

“Somebody could be, baby,” you say, chancing a look around, and huff out a sigh when he lays you onto your back. This man. 

“I don’t care,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with not a care in the world before following you down. 

This bikini might be his favorite. He likes anything that will leave as little to the imagination as possible, but this one is his favorite shade of blue. Almost matches his eyes. 

Your warm skin feels like silk on him, and when you wriggle when he presses a hand to your inner thigh, his dick jumps. 

“Relax, Y/N,” he breathes. You roll your eyes. 

“How can I, Rafe? You’re so—aggravating.” You huff. He’s still wearing his shirt, too. You tug at the sleeves of it. 

“Oh, yeah?” He cocks his head, lips pursed. You just nod, pulling again at the fabric of his shirt. “Why’re you so wet, then?” He fumbles with the buckle of his jeans and your eyes lock on it.  

“I’m not.” You look back up at him, self-assured to a fault, and try to will the dampness between your legs away. He just stares down at you, unimpressed. “I-I’m not.” Your thighs close. 

“That right?” He murmurs, and wrestles your legs open again with an arm. His fingertips brush the crotch of your bottoms and you jolt, breathing hard out your nose. He lifts your hips and pulls them clean off, tossing them to the side. 

He’s silent then, gaze locked between your legs, and he carefully guides your legs back until you can grab them by the back of your thighs and keep them out of his way. 

“Not wet, my ass,” he murmurs to himself. His thumb rubs at your clit, and your sigh of pleasure ends in an impatient whine. He spits. “This pussy—,” he starts, but can’t finish. 

He just bows and gets his mouth on you like he’s been thinking about since he left the house. Your head slams back against the deck almost immediately. 

His large palm flattens to the back of your thigh and pushes your leg even further. The muscle strains but you can handle it. 

“Fuck, Rafe,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue pushes hard through your folds. You’re really fucking wet. You wonder briefly if it’s because of how hot it was today, then cast that out of your mind completely when you hear Rafe groan. Your body vibrates with it. 

His hands suddenly drag you by your hips, closer to his face, and he hums again. 

“Taste so fucking good,” he muses, spitting at you, and glances up at your face. You can barely keep your mouth closed like this. “Brat, lying to me.”

You whine, every second of him talking taking his mouth away from where it so desperately needs to be absolute torture, but settle when his thumb begins tracing circles into your clit. 

“Fuck me,” you breathe, back arching and leg muscles straining, and Rafe just laughs into your cunt. 

“I will,” he murmurs, and you would roll your eyes if you could�� but he pushes two fingers into you. His thumb spurs back into motion as you sing, throat already sore. He knows exactly where and when to curl his fingers, and you let him know right there is where they need to be. 

“There you go.” He spits a third time, watching it mix with your slick. “Squeezing me so tight, honey,” he assures you, smoothing a hand down your thigh. If you could find words you’d agree. 

You manage a “yes, shit,” before you go mute and your eyes roll back into your head. You squeeze around him like a vice, your legs flooding with warmth, and he fingers you through your orgasm. He can’t pull himself away when you get like this— you’re so soft and warm and perfect that he genuinely wonders if he could ever fuck someone else again. He knows the answer is no. 

Your abdominal muscles spasm and jolt as you come down, neck straining to look at where his fingers give you a final stroke and find their way to his mouth. 

“Fuck, Rafe,” you half-laugh and half-moan, head falling against the deck. You chest heaves as you catch your breath. “This is embarrassing.”

“What?” He says, voice hushed, and presses a kiss to your mouth. “Being on the deck or how quick I can make you cum?” He grins. 

This time you can and do roll your eyes. 

“Both,” you sigh, legs falling to their place around his hips. You curl up into a sitting position and pet his arm, coming back to reality. He smells like sunshine. “But you still haven’t fucked me yet.”

Your fingers trail down to his jeans, fingertips ghosting over his zipper. He hums in agreement, eyes following. You play with the button for a second, just wanting to tease, but pop it and unzip the fly. 

“Wanna know what I’m thinking about?” You ask, reaching up his shirt to feel his hot skin. “That time on the beach,” you purr, voice hushed and eyes wild. 

“Yeah?” He bites his lip and sits back on his ass, taking you with him in his lap. Your knees bend and you sit comfortably on the seat that is only yours. “You thinking about my hand?”

“Mhm.” You lean and kiss at his cheek, trailing down to his jaw. “And something else.” You dig a hand down into his boxers and curl your fingers around his dick. 

He’s hot and almost slippery, so hard you’re sure it’s painful. Your wrist slides against the tip and his hand on your ass curls into a fist. 

You lean back, wanting to see his face, and watch as your touch washes over his body. He blinks rapidly, eyes focusing, and you smile sweetly. 

It’s then that you shift into your knees, hand squeezing his dick, and sink down onto him.

His fingers fly up to your strained face and grasp your neck, immediately tight around your throat. Not tight enough to suffocate, but tight enough for your pulse to quicken. 

Exactly what you’d imagined. 

“You like that?” He pants, breath fanning over your cheek when you turn slightly and grip his shoulder for stability. You just nod and circle your hips. 

His thumb on your chin guides your face back to his, wanting to see you fall apart, and you make a whiny noise. He feels where it starts and ends between his fingertips. 

You ride between the strain of his hand around your throat and the movement of his body, head tilted back and mouth wide. Your fingers grip his shoulder and bicep as you ride. 

It’s a difficult job, balancing the rhythm of your hips with the ache blooming from the muscles in your thighs, but you make it work. 

You hear the bashfully whiny groans he’s exhaling into your ear and you make it work. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper hoarsely as his hold tightens, chin tilting towards the sky. He grits his teeth and pushes his hips up into yours. 

You scramble to grab onto his forearm and hold back your shriek. 

The tightness of his fingers around your throat blur the lines of pleasure and pain, making it hard to catch a deep breath and ride him at the same time. 

“Fuck, harder,” he stutters, almost whispering, and you nod furiously. Your thighs meet his lap, over and over with a noise that makes you blush even more than you already are, and you’re sure you’ll have bruises or at the very least a red mark. 

He releases your throat and anchors himself with your hip and the small of your back, and when you finally gasp for air at the loss of his pressure on your neck he uses all his lower back strength to wedge himself deep into you. 

You know you’ll have bruises there. 

You push hard against his forearm as your back arches and the tension in your lower abdomen comes to a peak. Your toes curl where they are at his side.

Your vision comes in and out of focus as you cum again, blood white-hot in your veins. The climax is almost numbing. Addicting. 

At this point you have no idea the noises you’re making, probably all gibberish and definitely humiliating, but the rushing in your ears is too much. 

Rafe shudders and groans loudly into your ear, spending himself inside of you with a grunt, and you follow him as he falls back into the deck. You catch yourself with a palm on the sun scorched wood. 

“Jesus Christ,” he pants, heart pounding and chest heaving. Sweat coats his buzzed hair in a shiny sheen, and your whole body is so sticky you feel like you could peel the layer of perspiration off of your body. 

His hands still lazily hold your waist and they begin their ascent to your neck. He feels your pulse with the space between his thumb and forefinger, and his face splits into a grin at the feeling. 

“I definitely am going to need some food after this.” You push yourself back up into a sitting position and put your hands on your hips as you finally catch your breath. 

He looks so beautiful, half in the shade and half in the sun. Laid out beneath you. Still inside. Like some kind of god. 

The hot sun is in his eyes, and his body is numb with the tension spent in his muscles. Rafe half wonders if his dick is still fucking there. 

He barely feels when you crawl off of him and stumble into standing. He jerks up into a sitting position, that familiar ache in his back present, and grabs for your leg. He winces at the stretch. You should really be paying his chiropractor bill. 

“Where are you going?” He accuses, voice scratchy in his throat. 

“I need to shower, baby.” You bend to pick up your bikini bottoms. “We’re going to dinner, aren’t we?” You smile and turn back around to go inside, ass bare and a huge red mark in the shape of a large hand curved around the trunk of your throat. 

Yeah, drive-up it is.

[thewulf]

Tides of Comfort || JJ Maybank

Summary: Request - I begging and dying for JJ Maybank comfort. Like reader is just going through it and JJ being the best “I got you baby” and just holding her forever and the pogues are just “awww they’re so cute” I just craveeee it

A/N - Stoppp this is just so sweet. Again, trying to be a lil more descriptive in the writing so lmk how you like it!!

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.6k+

As the evening draped over the Outer Banks like a comforting shroud, casting a soft golden glow over the horizon, you found yourself perched on the weathered dock of the chateau, tears staining your cheeks like dewdrops on delicate petals. The weight of the week's hardships weighed down on your shoulders, threatening to engulf you in a sea of despair. Hugging your knees to your chest, you sought solace in the solitude of the fading light, the rhythmic lapping of the waves against the dock providing a soothing backdrop to your turbulent thoughts.

Unbeknownst to you, JJ Maybank, your unwavering anchor, and beacon of light in the darkness, had ended his shift earlier that evening. A nagging intuition, a silent whisper of the heart, pulled him towards you with an urgency that he couldn't ignore. With each step he took, guided by an invisible thread of destiny, his determination to offer you his unwavering support grew stronger, his heart beating in sync with yours.

As JJ made his way towards the dock, the soft crunch of sandy dirt beneath his feet mingled with the gentle rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. The salty tang of the ocean hung heavy in the air, a familiar scent that filled him with a sense of homecoming. With each passing moment, the distance between you and him seemed to shrink, as if drawn together by an invisible force that transcended time and space.

Finally, he spotted your silhouette against the dimming sky, a solitary figure in a world of fading light. His heart clenched with hurt at the sight of your tear-stained cheeks, his resolve strengthening with each step he took towards you. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between you, his footsteps soft against the worn wooden planks of the dock.

"Y/N?" he called softly, his voice a gentle whisper carried on the evening breeze, infused with warmth and concern.

Startled, you turned towards him, tear-filled eyes meeting his with a mixture of surprise and relief. In that moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you amidst the quiet beauty of the twilight. Without a word, JJ closed the remaining distance between you, enveloping you in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of his unwavering love and support.

"What's wrong, baby?" he murmured, his voice a soothing melody amidst the chaos of your emotions, a lifeline in the darkness.

Unable to find the words to articulate the storm raging within you, you simply leaned into him, seeking comfort in the safety of his arms, finding security in the warmth of his embrace. With each beat of your heart, each hitched breath, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders.

JJ held you close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his touch a gentle caress against your skin. "You don't have to tell me if you're not ready," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear, his words a promise of unwavering support. "But know that I'm here for you, always. I've got you, okay?"

You nodded, a soft sob escaping your lips as you clung to him, finding comfort in his unwavering presence, in the depth of his love.

With infinite tenderness, JJ gently lifted you into his arms, cradling you close as he rose to his feet, as if determined to shield you from the world's troubles with the strength of his embrace.

Without a word, he carried you to the nearby hammock, its gentle sway offering a semblance of peace amidst the storm raging within you. As you settled into the hammock, JJ's heart swelled with love for you, his touch a soothing balm against the ache in your soul.

Brushing away your tears with his thumb, he spoke, his voice a gentle murmur of reassurance and affection. "You're safe here, baby," he whispered, his words a promise of unwavering support. "I'll stay with you until the storm passes, love."

And in that moment, as you lay together beneath the starlit sky, the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and serenity in JJ's embrace. For in his arms, you found not only comfort, but also the strength to weather any storm that life may bring.

You buried your face in his chest, your tears flowing freely now as you allowed yourself to release the pent-up emotions weighing you down.

JJ held you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively, as if shielding you from the world's troubles. With a gentle sway, he rocked you back and forth in the hammock, the rhythm soothing and comforting.

"I love you, more than you will ever know.” He whispered, still holding you close to his chest knowing how badly you needed it now.

His words washed over you like a healing balm, dispelling the lingering shadows of doubt and fear that had taken root in your heart. With each tender caress, each whispered assurance, JJ's love enveloped you, wrapping you in a cocoon of safety and security.

"You're not alone, baby," he continued, his voice a gentle melody in the quiet of the night. "I'm here with you, every step of the way."

A sense of peace settled over you, like a blanket of stars strewn across the night sky. In JJ's embrace, you found solace, a refuge from the storms that raged within.

As he continued to murmur words of comfort and love, his touch a soothing symphony against your skin, the walls around your heart began to crumble. Brick by brick, the barriers you had built to protect yourself fell away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of vulnerability and trust.

In JJ's arms, you felt seen, heard, and cherished. His love was a beacon of light in the darkness, guiding you through even the most treacherous of seas.

JJ's eyes twinkled mischievously as he shifted in the hammock, his arms still wrapped securely around you. With a playful grin, he leaned in closer, his voice filled with anticipation. It was that determined look on your face that meant you knew you were in for something.

"You know what always cheers me up when I'm feeling down?" he began, his tone light and affectionate, much different than the seriousness he had been conveying just moments prior.

Curiosity sparkled in your eyes as you tilted your head, eager to hear what he had to say. "What's that, JJ?"

His grin widened, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Stories. So let me tell you one. Well, did you hear about the cheese factory explosion?" he said, his voice laced with playful excitement.

You couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected turn of conversation. "A cheese factory explosion?" you repeated, amusement coloring your tone, playing along with whatever, he had planned.

JJ nodded enthusiastically. "That's right! It was a de-brie-acle," he quipped, unable to contain his own laughter at the literally cheesy joke.

Your laughter bubbled up in response, the sound filling the air with warmth and light. JJ's eyes sparkled with delight as he watched your smile widen, his heart swelling with affection.

Encouraged by the sound of your laughter, JJ's eyes lit up with delight, and he leaned in closer, eager to keep the joyful momentum going. With a playful grin, he launched into a series of lighthearted anecdotes and jokes, each one more absurd and whimsical than the last.

He regaled you with tales of his childhood escapades, embellished with exaggerated details that left you in stitches. His laughter mingled with yours, the harmonious melody echoing through the stillness of the night.

With each story, JJ's enthusiasm was infectious, filling the air with an undeniable warmth and light. He painted vivid pictures with his words, transporting you to worlds filled with laughter and wonder, far removed from the troubles of the present moment.

As the night wore on, the two of you found yourselves caught up in a whirlwind of laughter and camaraderie, the weight of your worries fading into the background. In JJ's company, the darkness seemed less daunting, replaced by a sense of joy and possibility.

Sooner than you wished he had finished his stories, leaving you cozied in his arms under a comfortable silence. As you both lay there in the hammock, time seemed to stand still. The gentle sway of the hammock beneath you mirrored the ebb and flow of your emotions, a soothing rhythm that lulled you into a sense of peace.

The Pogues watched from afar, their eyes filled with warmth as they observed the scene unfolding before them. John B, Sarah, Kiara, and Pope exchanged knowing glances, their smiles mirroring the affectionate bond shared between you and JJ.

In that moment, amidst the tranquil backdrop of the night sky and the gentle rustle of leaves, they saw more than just two individuals finding comfort in each other's arms. They saw a beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, love and laughter could light the way.

For you and JJ were not just partners; you were each other's guiding light, offering support, comfort, and unwavering devotion in the face of adversity. Your connection was palpable, a testament to the strength of your bond and the depth of your love.

As the Pogues watched on, their hearts swelled with affection for the two of you. They knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and JJ would face them together, hand in hand, drawing strength from each other's presence and guiding one another through the darkest of nights.

And as the evening breeze whispered through the trees, carrying with it the promise of a new day, the Pogues shared a silent moment of gratitude for the love that bound you and JJ together. For in that simple gesture of love and laughter, they found hope, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that came your way.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

[itneverendshere]

I've had thots about Toppers girlfriend with Rafe and his wandering hands and yall are so turned on you both can't stop touching one another you're practically dry humping in front of everyone (ya know the whole hiding in plain sight)

i did something bad - r.c (18+)

warnings: rafe cameron x kook!reader; cheating; boyfriend!topper (not really lmao poor thing); public sex?; dry humping; mentions of alcohol and drugs; possessive!rafe; almost having sex in the middle of a party I guess;

You don’t even know how the hell this happened.

How you ended up right here, right now, with him. You don’t know where to put your hands, your eyes, or your thoughts. You’re lost. Completely speechless.

Yet somehow, there's nowhere you’d rather be than sitting here, pressed against Rafe Cameron's thighs. And yeah, you're dating his best friend. And yeah, as if you’re not in the middle of a roaring party, filled to the brim, at Topper’s house.

He brushes his thumb over your hip, cautious, like he’s testing the waters. “You good?”

All you can manage is a weak, “Yeah.”

“Look at me.”

Oh god.

Of course, Rafe would catch every little thing you do. Probably been watching you the whole night. Your heart stutters when your eyes lock with his.

That hand on your hip grows bolder, fingers tracing your skin in slow, teasing circles. If you died right now, you’d die happy. And maybe, just maybe, your biggest turn-on is feeling understood. Feeling seen. Rafe does that for you. Topper? Not so much.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention all night,” he murmurs.

You exhale, trying to sound casual. “Really?”

This thing between you two — it’s like a storm you can't escape from. No matter how hard you try. But in moments like this, you can’t run. It pulls you in.

“’Been trying to get your attention all night, you know that?”

You are just about able to breathe out a quiet, “Really?

This attraction between you two is everything you’ve ever needed and wanted, and yet in moments like these, you panic all the same.

You know it’s safer to run from him than to run to him like you always seem to do, but the truth is, you can’t stop. Your steady composure evaporates around him.

Rafe nods, utter confidence in the gesture. Not that you’d expect any less from the kook king himself, he always knew what he thought and felt, and wasn’t afraid to let people know. He owns every single bit of himself.

Unlike you.

“Why are you surprised, flower?” he murmurs, “You know I only got eyes for you.”

You stare back at him, mouth dry and head empty. You want to call him out on his bullshit, put the truth on a silver platter, and hand it to him, but you’d be a hypocrite. How can you tell him you hate seeing him with other people when you’ve got a boyfriend yourself? His best friend. You’ve got no moral high ground here.

So you just nod. Close your eyes, block out the world, and pretend this is fine. Pretend you’re anywhere else but here.

“Is that so?”

He's now grasping both your hips, “Don’t look at me like that. You know I mean it.”

A thrill shoots through you. His touch is scorching your skin, “Not doing anything.”

But fuck, this feels like everything. Cheating on a relationship is a distraction, a self-delusional addiction. This will end in a breakup or breakdown... or worse. You haven’t crossed that line, not physically at least. Not yet. But you feel like you are about to.

“Trust me, you’re doing just enough.”

The way he says it, like it's the easiest thing in the world to want you this bad, makes your pulse quicken. You’re crazy. His lips are so pretty, just the thought of them has you dizzy. Of course, your blush is a dead giveaway.

“Where’s your date?”

“Don’t know,” one hand moves down, “Don’t care.”

“You should.”

His lips twitch, fingers skirting down, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His eyebrows rise, eyes flickering over the room curiously.

“Where’s your boyfriend, flower?” He all but purrs in your ear. Your face is most definitely on fire. 

He stares at you, and you simply stare back. The tension that clouds the air is almost too much. 

“Outside.”

“Now, what would he think if he walked in here and saw you in my lap?” Rafe’s voice is raspy, “Hmm?”

Every bit of confidence you had is nowhere to be found. He always knows how to play your strings. It’s twisted, but the thought only makes you want Rafe more.

“You think about that?” You ask breathlessly, and the hard outline of his cock through his jeans is confirmation enough. You should shove him away. You should feel guilty. But instead, you press yourself against him, his thigh between yours, your brain already melting at the feeling.

“You are really trying to make me fuck you right here, aren’t you?” His voice is lethal, he all but groans, leaning down and sinking his teeth into the side of your neck, just above your pulse, “I’m trying to be good, flower.”

“You’re not good, Rafe Cameron.”

The solid press of his body on yours is all too much. His lips on your neck are everything you’ve fantasized about and more.

“I could be,” Those blue eyes fill with mischief, “For you, I would.”

Your stomach drops and you shove him off, ignoring your flushed cheeks. But then he grins, that shit-eating, sarcastic grin of his, and your glare pierces through him, attempting to keep some space between you.

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“You think I can’t be good?”

“I don’t think,” Your reply is mockingly sweet, and for once he doesn’t smirk, in fact, his grin is half-hearted now, “I know for a fact, you can’t.”

“Right,” His hand works its way from your cleavage, down to your stomach where he lingers for some time, “Good thing you’re dating a good guy, yeah?”

The urge to touch, to be inside you is overwhelming. He’s never felt so desperate to feel someone. The laugh that escapes you is almost bitter, and he knows it. He knows he’s got you. And the worst part? You’re letting him.

“Yeah, good thing,” You breathe, body pressing into his.  Your heart thumps wildly between your ribs and you know you’re going straight to hell.

“Do you want me?” he whispers, arm snaking around your waist to bring you even closer. Again.

“Please.”

In one swift movement, he pulls you down to the couch he’s sitting on. He supports your body with one hand under your upper thigh, whilst his free hand cups the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your hair. The way you situate yourself on his thigh so quickly is too natural, and he does give a little condescending laugh.

There are people everywhere. The party rages on. But it’s like the world has shrunk to just you and him.

You stare into each other’s eyes, panting shakily – lips inching closer and closer together. Rafe lingers there, flushed lips parted, waiting patiently for your move. 

“Rafe?” Your voice is quiet, and yet he still hears you despite the music. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand so close without devouring him whole.

His eyes flicker to yours, “Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

Before you know it, his lips crash into yours roughly, almost bruising them. He’s so hungry for you. For your touch. He has wanted this for so, so, so long. And fuck, so have you.

The hard press of his cock pushing right against your center is torturous. As if his stupid muscular thigh wasn’t enough. You ground yourself down on him, breathing a moan against his lips. 

“My flower,” He pants into your mouth, tongue swiping against your bottom lip, “Gonna be good for me?”

“So good.” You rock against him, your teeth grazing his lips. His fingers untangle from your hair, and cup your cheek, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. You push yourself further against him, rocking your hips. He groans against your cheek, thrusting up. 

A large hand slides down your neck and grips it gently, earning him a sudden, breathy moan, “Want me that bad?” 

Your legs tighten around his waist, “Yes.”

“'Y'sure, flower?”

“Yes.”

“More than him?”

“Don’t tease,” you whine lengthily, frustration so pent up it leaves you breathless, “You know my answer.”

“Do I?” Rafe hums, fingers rubbing tight circles into your clothed clit.

“Rafe.”

“Keep talking.”

You try hard to focus on the budding feeling in your core, to chase it so you can finally know what a proper orgasm feels like. Can’t remember the last time you had one, delivered by a man. 

“I want you,” You mumble, grazing your teeth on his pulsing throat as you suckle on his skin, leaving behind a bruise-like mark, “Always want you more.”

“Fuck—” he gasps, hips giving an involuntary jerk, “I’m never letting you go back to him, you know that right?”

Your grip around his neck tightens, fingernails digging into his tanned skin, “All yours.”

You’re so, so wet and you haven’t discarded a single piece of clothing. All he wants to do is replace his thigh with his cock but, he can’t. Not here anyway, so he settles for this. He’d settle for anything you give him right now. Lost to the sensation his head falls back, his eyes screw shut, his breath coming out in short pants. 

“C-Can we–Oh!– Can we leave?”

“Easy,” He hums, eyes still squeezed shut, brows gathering, “Not yet.”

“Please,” you beg quietly, squeezing his waist with your legs as your body tries to shove him closer.

Your pussy swells with pleasure, moans becoming deeper and more strained. He knows you’re close. He’s not far behind and there’s something so primal about making you cum in a room full of people, who’ve yet to take a second look at you two. The alcohol and the drugs in their veins become your accomplices. 

He feels the tension in your body, the way it seizes up, trying to fight the unbearable heat pooling in your pelvis. The sound of his husky moans in your ear is about to send you over the edge – heated coil unraveling, stomach muscles relaxing.

He relishes in the way you’re staring into his eyes with your mouth open. It feels so good, so right. The way his body completely envelopes yours.

You can’t believe you’re about to cum from dry-humping Rafe Cameron.

“This what you want?” He mutters.

You nod as best you can with his palm on your throat.

“Couldn’t fuckin’ wait, huh?” His jaw ticks. “That desperate?”

You nod again. Fuck, you’ll tell him whatever he wants if he’ll just touch you.

Focusing on the budding feeling, your hands grip his veiny forearm. His sleeves are shoved up to the elbows, cuffed there and you can feel a muscle twitch in his forearm. 

It turns you on. You let go of any thoughts, allowing your body to take over. You moan into his shoulder, grinding erratically into his hand.

“Good girl,” His voice is thick with desire, shaky from the buck of his hips. He has your face in his hands before you can shrink away. He's gripping your jaw between desperate fingers and tilting to your chin up, “So fucking good, flower.”

When Rafe begins to bounce his leg up and down and you bite your lip to silence your moans.

“If you ever let him touch you again, I’ll break his fuckin’ arms.” 

A whine seems to be the only thing that your brain can come up with.

You can feel the fire pulsating through his lips; you can feel it radiate off his body. 

He leans in to brush his lips against yours—feverish and light. His tongue swirls through your mouth from desperation starting to lock inside his chest. You have made him feel all kinds of things over the years. He needs to feel you, needs to touch you, constantly. After the searing memory of Topper’s hand on your waist, lips dangerously close to yours, he needs to be close to you.

"M'gonna come—baby, please let me,” You cry out and dig your nails into his skin, chest heaving rapidly.

"Go ahead," He gulps, ready to take you home, he presses his forehead against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck, "'M right here."

Your stomach churns as the thin thread that is holding your composure together snaps. The tip of his nose drags over your jaw, a soft kiss pressed there as he nudges your head to fall back onto his shoulder.

And then he has you shaking, hurtling towards an orgasm that leaves your mind spinning. His lips move to your neck, tongue, and teeth stinging and soothing, mumbling praises and filthy promises.

“Oh, my fuckin'—God!”

He doesn't let up, not when your clit begins to throb, or walls pulse.

Not until you're shaking so hard through your orgasm that you are all but crawling up his lap, leaving you unable to breathe.

“C’mere,” he says, softly, although you haven’t moved. He lifts a hand to your face to brush the hair back from your eyes, lingering for a moment before his gaze slides up to yours.

“You’re mine.” 

[mrs-cameron]

outer banks + tweets (part 5)

[onlyhereforangst]

#a lying liar who lies

[givingairtomymouth]

If JJ treated a couple of girls the same way Kiara treated John B and Pope, y'all would not be out there shipping them and justifying his s***ty behavior.

[kjd55]

strawberry-scented body wash

in which rafe shows up on your doorstep, soaked from the storm outside, and stays over. things get a little heated.

content warnings: finger sucking, making out, rafe being unrafe-like and actually kinda nice?? bad writing?? i haven’t posted on here in over a year so i am rusty lol also this is unedited but enjoy

a knock on the door downstairs has you groaning and pushing away from the desk you’ve been seated at the last few hours, chipping away at the homework you’d been neglecting this week. 

with final exams around the corner and college applications already sent, you were doing your best at fighting the infamous senioritis, albeit not doing a great job.

jumping down the stairs to get to the door as quick as you could, you shouted a “coming!” from your spot halfway down the steps. 

you weren’t expecting anyone over, and when you finally open the door to find a soaking wet rafe cameron standing  on your doormat, rain splattering onto your floor from the unexpected weather, you grabbed his wrist to pull him inside, desperate to keep the floors and more specifically, your socks, as dry as possible.

“what are you doing here?” you ask awkwardly once you’d shut the door. as much as you hate to admit it, you’ve had a crush on your best friends brother for a while. which sounds ridiculous, considering the fact that he loathes you, and your entire existence, for some reason. 

he tucks his bottom lip into his mouth, glancing up at the ceiling, either in embarrassment or annoyance. probably both, and mutters, “my car broke down, and it’s literally pouring outside and uh..” he rubs the side of his face, another indication of his indignation, “well, you’re the only person i know around here and i was wondering if i could like…”

“stay here until the weather gets better?” you sigh, noting the hair matted to his forehead as he nods. “sure,” you reply, watching his shoulders sag in relief, “but only if you change your clothes, because you’re dripping wet.”

you turn around, silently cursing at the way you said those last few words. your cheeks grow hot when rafe snickers, catching onto it too.

not checking to ensure that he’s following you, you make your way back up the stairs, “i have something for you to wear.”

you don’t look at him as you hand him a hoodie and pair of sweatpants from your wardrobe, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are.

from the corner of your vision though, you see his eyebrows flick up. “there are literally my clothes,” he chuckles, and you want to die of embarrassment. you hope he doesn’t notice the fact that’d you’d picked them from the top of the pile. (they’re comfy to sleep in, okay?) “these are from when you threw up on yourself at that one bonfire and sarah made me give you my—“

“yes! yes, i remember, it was mortifying. i think about it too often,” you blurt, finally facing him and crossing your arms over each other, trying to make yourself as small as you feel. “my bathroom is over there,” you point towards a door behind your shoulder, “get dressed, ‘cus you smell.”

he says nothing, settling for rolling his eyes while walking towards the bathroom, and shuts the k door. you ignore how there was a subtle shine when he’d realized you still wore his clothes.

you settle on trying to finish your homework, and while you do, you hear your shower turn on. good, you think, knowing you’ll have more time to focus instead of bickering with him. still , you swallow a lump in your throat at the thought of rafe in your shower, and squeeze your eyes shut. stop being a perv.

after about 15 minutes, a few after the water was turned off, the door cracks open, and you glance over to find rafe make his way to you, wearing the sweats, and of course, no hoodie. you again focus on your work, but you feel as he leans himself over your chair and watch as you complete calculus questions. 

you can’t concentrate, feeling the heat radiate off him, him arms on either side of your preifereal vision, and you groan, “do you mind— hey!” you whip your head over, and glare at the man towering over you, “did you use my body wash?!”

a corner of his lips tilt up, amused, and he shrugs. “so what if i did? also there wasn’t much left, so you’ll probably need to go buy more later.”

you scoff, knowing there was at least enough to last you until the end of the week (it was a monday). smelling the strawberry scent wafting off him, you stand, leaning against the front of your desk to try and close of the large gap in height between the two of you. 

you regret this immediately, because now you have no choice but to make eye contact, and the look he gives you is scathing. your cheeks grow hot at the lazy look he gives you, your faces less than an inch apart. 

you wet your bottom lip, which is suddenly dry, and his eyes flick down, watching almost predatorily as you try to tuck your bottom lip away from his gaze. 

this always seemed to happen with the blond, anytime you were alone together, which was not often (for this exact reason), tension was always a third factor. you’d met him three years ago, when you’d gone to sarah’s for the first time and saw him, instantly growing a bedrudging crush on him.

you remember one night, where you were alone in the kitchen about a year and a half ago, when you’d been hoping to grab a glass of water before bed, and realized rafe was already in there.

he’d been on the other side of the room, and you tried to ignore his presence, with it being late, and not wanting to try to act normal in his vicinity (something that took too much energy out of you), you opened the cabinet with all the glasses. 

embarrassment warned your skin when you’d realized there was nothing within reach, but before you’d have to ask, you’d felt rafe’s presence warm your back. he’d pressed a hand for ���support’ (you know he was trying to tease you), and reached up to grab one for you. “you need to grow a little taller,” his voice rasped in your ear, sliding that damn hand to your waist, and squeezing a little. 

you hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until he’d stepped away, you instantly feeling cold, at the loss of warmth, and shakily filled that glass, turning away to go back to sarah’s room.

remembering that time, and the situation you were in now, you grow hot under his stare, and instead decide to grow a pair and examine him. maybe try and make him squirm like he did to you, so easily.

starting with the apples of his cheeks, you noted a very faint littering freckles, only a few, that carried onto his nose. 

unconsciously, you follow the urge to look back up to his eyes. if you were in a sound state of mind, you’d feel nervous. but with the way his eyes were half-lidded, eye lashes drooping so prettily, you couldn’t help but raise a hand to one of those lightly freckled cheeks.

his eyes widen ever so slightly at the unexpected move, and he swallows, shifting his body a bit. you know you’ve leaned closer to him, your noses only inches apart, but you wait to see what he’ll do. 

you can’t help the feeling deep down that he’ll reject you. maybe you’re just another girl in his endless supply. you suppress that rational part of your brain, the one that’s been leading your thought process for too long. it’s not like you’ve ever seen a girl around him, not even at parties. if they’d ever tried talking to him, he’d shrug them off.

you feel his scorching touch where he grabs hold of your waist, pulling you a little closer, and a gust of air escapes you when you feel a thumb caress the underside of your ribs.

you stand there for a few seconds, really looking at each other. no one’s said anything for a while, but you don’t care. you don’t think anything rational would come out of your mouth anyway.

one of his hands creeps up, along your arm, up your neck, and holds your cheek now, too. he traces the shape of your bottom lip, and by accident, a noise meekly escapes your throat at the touch. his pupils dilate more, if that’s even possible, and he taps your lip with his thumb.

you realize there’s only one thing you could do right now, and hesitantly open your mouth. he slides that thumb in, and when you close your lips around it, he groans, watching your half lidded eyes as you begin to suck.

after a minute, he removed his thumb, and you don’t even have time to react before he’s smashing his lips against yours.

it isn’t a gentle kiss, by any means. it’s harsh, unforgiving, and so rafe. he takes control of every movement, and your grateful because you can barely function, so turned on by the entirety of what is happening right now.

your arms wrap around his neck, an attempt to deepen the kiss, if that were even possible, and you feel his tongue lightly trace your lip. you moan, into his mouth, and his hold on you tightens.

you feel so good right now, so wrapped in his presence. even though he just used your body wash, you can still smell him, that unmistakable scent overpowering the artificial strawberries.

he finally breaks away, lips puffy and wet, and watches you gasp for air. he smirks, satisfied with himself, and at the fact that he’s done the thing he’s been wanting do to for three years, and hopes that you’ll let him do it again.

[rhcenyra]

#married?

[dailypankow]

rudy pankow | vanity fair interview

[behidethetrees]

YOU COULD BE MY BABY, LET ME MAKE YOU MY LADY.

IN WHICH…Rafe Cameron cant get enough of you.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem! Pogue!Reader

Contents: NON CANON!Rafe, Reader fixes cars, Kinda mean and flirty!Rafe, Your main friends are the pogues, This is set in the 2000s!

A/N!!: This is a prequel to this fic per @sublimepenguinpeach-blog request! Rafe is sooo boyfriend i need him idc. Enjoy!

Prequel Part 1

MARCH 2006. 

You were 16 years old when you met 17-year-old Rafe Cameron. You knew Rafe because Everyone on the island knows the Kook prince. Little did you know Rafe knew you too, Kinda. He heard rumors about a new girl moving to the outer banks, But when he found out you were a Pogue he quickly became uninterested.  At first, he thought you were Trash, You felt the same about him. You had heard so many stories about him from JJ and John B that you just believed he was as stuck up and entitled as they made him seem. 

One day at work you went outside to greet your 11 AM client when you realized It was Rafe Cameron. He stood In front of his black Truck, arms crossed and annoyed when he noticed you. Something about you just captivated Rafe's attention. Your face was angel-like with Soft features and big curious eyes that stared right back at Rafe's threatening ones. 

As you fixed His engine you never saw him carefully watching your hands or occasionally glance at your determined eyes, That was his favorite thing about you. Rafe didn't speak to you in the hour he was in your presence, He was afraid if he did, He wouldn't stop. Your voice was so sweet that Rafe knew he would get addicted to it sooner or later. 

You and the pogues attended midsummer and Rafe hated that he couldn't stop looking at you, From afar Your white flowy dress and your flower crown that he was sure Sarah made for you since yours matched hers. Rafe just couldn't help but ask about you. 

“Yo Top who's that chick next to Sarah? Never seen her.” Rafe lied while staring dead at you, Not bothering to move when you noticed. 

“Y/N Y/L/N I think.” Topper glances at Rafe's blank face, picking up on why he was asking.

“ Dude are you trying to bag that? She’s a Pogue, And out of your league.” Topper jokes while hitting Rafe's shoulder, Rafe took a quick look at Topper. 

“She's pretty hot for a pogue.” Rafe took a swig of his drink. 

“Good luck man, Heard she's hard to get.” Topper warns Him. Rafe only rolls his eyes. What Rafe didn't know was that you were talking about him too. 

“Oh my god he is staring at you, Ew!” JJ says as the rest of the group tries to hide their looks at Rafe and laughter.

“Think he likes you?” Kie suggests, You fake gag. 

“That's gross you would even say that.” You hit her on the arm, “I'm gonna go over here, you guys coming?” Your friends follow you to a different area that was out of Rafe's sight, Rafe was disappointed but he knew you two were bound to see each other again. 

And he was right, You two did see each other again. Only at another party one of your mutual friends was throwing. You were left alone on the couch When the only person you knew left to talk to some guy, You saw a blonde-headed boy with a white button-up sitting next to you, You didn't need to look twice to know it was rafe, You rolled your eyes. 

“Damn I just got here princess what's with the attitude?”  Rafe asks amused, Your “I hate you’ attitude didn't work on Rafe, If anything, It made him want you more. 

“Nothing.” You take a slip of your cup, He stares at your facial expression, Noticing your nose scrunching up in disgust as you drink out your cup.

“Can I get you another drink? I'm about to go get myself one.” Rafe offered, You were a bit confused as to why he was even talking to you but you accepted. When Rafe got back he handed you your drink and sat back down next to you. You never expected by the end of the night You would be lying next to a sleeping Rafe. He claimed he was “so drunk” he couldn't go home. 

His shirtless body in the pale moonlight and his messy Long hair in his face made your insides all mushy and your cheeks heat up. Were you feeling a certain way for Rafe Cameron? 

Rafe's unpredictability is what drew you to him, he was hard to read, intimidating, You liked that.

For the next months, you began to see Rafe more often. He knew how to crack you open and reveal everything he wanted to know about you, Within the second week of seeing Rafe he already knew your address and would sneak into the window of your small home at night where no one would catch him. You two didn’t just do malicious things together, Sometimes you two would stare at the stars on the beach and talk about what you two wanted in the future.

One day Rafe surprised you with a gold necklace, ‘R’ shaped, You had a feeling you knew why Rafe was giving this to you but couldn’t help but want to ask, But before you could speak, Rafe beat you to it. 

“ I know you're confused so I want to tell you that I love you Y/N and I want to be yours, as well as I want you to be mine.” He bluntly stated, wasting no time telling you how he feels. 

“You're the only person in the world I dont hate, You're the only person that knows me inside and out and I dont want that to change.” Rafe leg bounces up with anxiety, Waiting for you to respond. 

“Rafe…I love you too.” Rafe eyes visibly widened and he started to slightly smile. 

“But I dont want to be a secret, You’re gonna have to tell people you’re dating a pogue and I know you dont like that.” You looked at him, His jaw unclenched and his face softened.

“I will do whatever you want me to do Y/N, I'm not ashamed of you.” Rafe looked at you, searching for agreement in your eyes, “I dont care what people will say about us. I have loved you for so long nobody could change how I feel about you.” He wasnt lying. Rafe never let anyone dictate how he felt about things, He certainly wouldn't let someone try to tell him he shouldn't love you.  

“Yeah?” You smile at Rafe, He smiles back. 

“Yeah. Now let's put this necklace on and go out to eat Baby.” Rafe Smirks at you as he walked behind you to put on your necklace. You had mixed emotions. You loved Rafe and you were Glad you two finally made it official but you couldn't help the anxiety that pooled in your stomach.

As soon as you got the courage to tell the pogues, The very judgemental pogues, They were shocked to say the least. 

“Rafe Cameron?” “What the fuck?” “Definitely did not expect that one.” Spilled out of their mouths, You started to regret saying anything. But you couldn't keep a secret from the pogues. 

“Guys please listen, I know you guys dont like him and that's okay but you’re are my best friends and I want you to be happy for me, Even if it's fake I want you to respect me and Rafe.” The pogues all look at each other conflicted. 

 On one hand, in their eyes, Rafe was a rich cocky asshole that always excluded the pogues from events just because he could, But on the other hand, You talked about Rafe like he was the sun. You smiled like you would never stop and talked about how good he was to you. The pogues did notice Rafe hadn't bothered them in a while and has been okay when them showing up to his parties, He even congratulated John B and Sarah when they started dating which caught everyone off guard, They started to think that maybe Rafe was changing and you were the reason.

“Does He treat you right?” JJ asks. Out of all the pogues, JJ was the most protective of you. He cared about you like you were his family, You were the little sister he always wanted and he would never let anyone hurt you, especially a man. JJ and Rafe never liked each other but If he made you happy, JJ would be willing to tolerate him, Same as for Rafe. 

“Yes I promise JJ, He respects me, You dont need to worry about that.” You clarified. You knew JJ had a tenacity to interrogate every guy you talked to. JJ thought he knew everything there was to Know about Rafe Cameron, But now he wasnt so sure. 

“Y/N this is insane, But we love you and want you to be happy.” John B steps into the conversation. They all agreed. You smiled at them and jumped to hug the pogues, ‘Thank you thank you!’s Fell out of your mouth as you bounced up and down. 

“I'm serious though, If he ever does anything you let us know and we’ll deal with him.” JJ put his hand on your shoulder carefully not to touch your new glitter tattoo (That you and Rafe both secretly matched). He stared at you, expression serious and stern, You could only hug him. 

“You know he really does love you.” You heard Sarahs voice whisper in your ear. you turn to see her smiling at you, You just knew from then on , everything was okay.

A/N!: hiii sorry this took sooo long to post ive been getting writers block but im back now, Thanks for reading!

Requests

Taglist: @nowitsmissing

[undercovercameron]

hole in one

summary: you're a server at the island club, and you may or may not have a favorite customer.

notes: i'm back baby! haven't written anything in a good while but i suddenly had this image of a girly reader and a flirty golfer rafe with that season 3 buzzcut... i HAD to make a pun with this title and i'm so glad i did. also i always write rafe a little more attentive and well-meaning than he is, so take this headcanon of nice rafe with a grain of salt-- and this shit is hella dirty so please enjoy and let me know what you think ;) (also im coming back to edit this fully in a little bit but i wanted to post just to prove i still love and use this account kajddjd)

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 4453

Some things in Rafe’s life were simple pleasures. 

A cocktail during dinner, a night where all the TV he watched was reality shows, a cigarette on a night out. The silence of his childhood home. 

Golf, coincidentally, was also one of those things. The course he frequented was just a ten-minute drive from his house, and he had priority parking. As a donor and a club-member of course. The drinks were cheap, the company was even cheaper, and he had a killer swing. There was rarely an afternoon out on that green that he didn’t enjoy. He felt closest to peace when all he had to work for was getting that tiny white golf ball sunk into a hole. 

They were often sweaty putting sessions, as the North Carolina heat in the summer was no joke, but the traveling drink cart was a brief respite from that. 

“What can I get you?” You ask, bright and long-lashed. Your hair was done in a tight updo, your makeup was flawless, and not a single spec of dirt or turf lay on your uniform. You took pride in your appearance and the effects it had on the loose wallets of the Outer Banks’ finest real estate investors and offshore bank account holders. Most of all, you enjoyed a certain someone’s attention. 

Rafe peeks under the overhang of the cart and stares at your selection. He stands with his hands on his hips, gold rings flashing in the hot sunlight. You take a look at him for the first time today, eyes taking over his bent form. He has gray slacks on with a dark blue polo stretched over his well-built back, unbuttoned to show the tiniest glint of blonde chest hair and his gold chain. He spared no expense when it came to his appearance, you’d come to notice. 

“I think,” he starts, standing back up, and fixes you with his blue-eyed stare. It makes you hold back a shiver despite the heat. “A double tequila soda.” 

He gives you a once-over, admiring the way your skirt hugs your waist and the sparkle of your earrings. He always likes when the girls have their hair up— gives him a sneak peek of what it’d look like if he pulled it. 

“Three limes? Just how you like?” You ask, breaking his focus, and reach for a plastic cocktail cup. You have a freckle behind your ear, he notices. 

“Exactly right,” he says, folding his arms over his chest, and his face splits into a grin when you glance at him and blush. He could be back with his friends from highschool, talking shit about their shitty swings or increasingly high scores, but he’s not. He’s right here, watching closely as you carefully measure the ice and pour a perfect double shot. 

“How’re you guys playing today?” You ask, a humiliating attempt at small talk, and you feel sweat bead on your lower back. 

“Shit, honestly,” Rafe laughs. “These jack-offs couldn’t get a hole-in-one if it was right in front of their fucking faces. And I’ve been distracted all day.” He looks down at you over the bridge of his nose, liking the way you tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. 

“Heat getting to you?” You squeeze the final lime and turn away from the cart, holding it out with a polite smile. He takes it carefully. 

“Something like that,” he says, cocking his head, and takes a sip. Tart. Just how he likes it. “Hey.” He digs a hand into his pocket and the tips of your cheekbones heat again for some reason. “Keep the change.” He hands you a fifty. 

You take it between hesitant fingers, peering up at him. 

“The drink is $6, Rafe.” 

He always does this. Pays cash with big bills and tells you to keep the change. He gave you a twenty for a packet of peanuts one time. “I don’t know if I can legally take this.”

He just shrugs. 

“Consider it a personal donation.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” 

“Makes me feel better. I think you deserve a little extra for your services—it takes a lot of work to look that good for a bunch of old geezers in sweater vests and loafers. I know I appreciate it.” He turns and starts off towards his group, yanking his sunglasses out of his shirt and jamming them onto his face. “I like your bra, by the way. ‘S my favorite color.”

You glance down the collar of your shirt, heart thumping, and look back up. 

That stupid fucking swagger he has. He’s going to throw out his back walking around like a peacock like that. 

You tug your shirt up, hiding the red bra you’d chosen for today, and hop back on the cart. Off to another hole where another old man will look down your shirt and ask for his Manhattan with two cherries instead of one. 

You think you’ll either quit this job or start wearing a fucking monk robe. 

The next time you see him is back at the club. Your boss had you on pool bartender duty, opposed to the drink cart you favored, and you were a little out of your element. 

The customer demographic was different, which you enjoyed, but they all seemed to want a lot more and a lot quicker. There was no loitering around to small talk; you had to work quickly and attentively to earn these housewives’ measly two dollar tip on margarita pitchers. 

You had spilled raspberry purée on your company-approved golf dress more times than you could count in your six hour shift. Near the end of it, however, Rafe had made his way to the end of the bar and watched as you ducked to put away the umbrella toothpicks and quickly and secretly downed a shot of Tito’s. Drinking on the job. Hm. 

(It’s not that you like to be drunk at work; it’s more of a little ‘fuck you’ to your boss, you think.)

“Hi,” you say on an exhale, coming over and wiping the already-spotless counter with a black rag. “What can I get you?” You have dangly earrings on today, and a different shade of lipgloss than he is accustomed to.

“Two grapefruit High Noon’s.” He folds his arms and leans on the counter, so close he could smell your perfume. “I could report you for that, you know,” he says, voice as low as a whisper. You peer up at him, lips pursed, and scan his face. No ill intent. Just an easy smile and dirty eyes. 

“Oh, yeah?” You reach for the fridge underneath the mixing mats and pull two cold cans from the shelf. You sit them on the counter and stare up at him. “You’re a real upstanding customer, huh?”

“Mhm.” He twists his pointer-finger ring mindlessly. “You owe me.” The corners of his lips quirk up. 

“Oh, do I?” You ask, giving him your best ’I don’t know what you’re talking about’ look. You know he likes that. 

The fact is that you and Rafe had countless conversations exactly like this one. Whether it be at the drink cart, on the way out of the building, or back inside in the restaurant bar. He always somehow leaned over you, smiling like the flirtatious bastard that he was, and making you feel like he’d like nothing more than to take you to his car and show you how much he actually enjoyed being served by you. That’s how you imagined him in bed, at least. Proving a point. 

He takes the two cans in one hand and straightens up, fixing you with a dangerous look. 

“Your shift ends in ten minutes, yeah?” He asks. 

“Yes.” You square your shoulders and stare back. 

“Good. I’ll take you home. Well, mine.” He backs up closer to where his friends are sitting at a covered patio table, mischievous smile flashing white in the sun. 

“I have a car, you know,” you say, leaning on the counter with folded arms. You ignore the hot rush of blood in your veins from his words. “And I have to shower.”

“What makes you think I don’t have a shower?” He purses his lips, faking the wildly confused look, and turns back around to his friends. 

You just sigh, exasperated with him, and work on cleaning up your station. God, it has to be him? The boy you had a crush on in elementary school? You’ve had plenty of hookups in your adult life, but none as close to home as this one. (Literally. You live down the street.) You feel his eyes on you as you scrub a particularly defiant streak of Grenadine from the counter, and feel his gaze on your back when you turn around to get a fresh rag. It makes your face burn hot. 

You know he’s not talking about just hanging out at his place. He probably has a huge shower, for God’s sake, and probably a humongous bed. California king if you can guess. 

You bet he tastes like summer.

After your replacement comes to the bar, you take your lanyard to get into the staff locker room from a hook under the bar and make your way slowly through the gaggles of people to your designated locker. It takes a brief conversation with your boss Angela about if you left the tip jar or took the contents to finally shoulder past the last group of people. 

You tug your bag from the hook, a change of clothes and your shower stuff already packed (as you had been planning to go to the gym after work). You now know you have other forms of exercise coordinated. You give yourself a final look in the little mirror on your locker. Here goes nothing. 

Rafe is waiting outside the swinging door when you push past it, button up shirt and shoes haphazardly thrown on. He immediately takes your bag from you and slings it over one massive shoulder, starting for the exit. 

“I can carry my own things, Rafe,” you say, slightly out of breath with the effort it takes to catch up to him. 

“Yeah, well, I’m in a bit of a hurry.” He casts a look over his shoulder, eyebrows raised seriously. You roll your eyes. 

His bedroom door pushes open and you stumble back, hand tight on his bicep as he walks you further. His hand circles your waist as he ducks to kiss you again, mouth hot and commanding over yours. 

He tastes exactly how you imagined. 

His room is bright with sunlight and slightly messy when you glance behind him, but you’re pretty fucking sure you won’t be focused on how his room is decorated when he keeps grabbing at you like this.

The back of your knees hit the bedspread and you fall into a sitting position, posture curved up into his as he leans and holds you by the side of the neck. You make a pleased noise into his mouth and tug at his shirt, suddenly irritated that he is wearing so many clothes. You snake a hand up his shirt and claw at his skin with your sharp nails. 

“Save that for my back,” he breathes, and your fingers fumble to unbutton his shirt as you finally pull it down and off his body. You rejoice at his newfound lack of clothing and smooth a hand over his chest, eyes trained on his toned and tan stomach. 

He’s huge like this, up close, and the warmth radiating from his skin makes your heart jump into your throat. Your fingers splay across the middle of his abdomen, just appreciating the way he breathes under your touch, and you lean back up for his mouth. 

He threads his fingers in your hair and pulls your face so hard to his own that your neck smarts. Between your legs throbs. You protest, grabbing at his wrist, but settle when he shuffles closer to the bed and tilts you back into the sheets.

“Spread your legs for me,” he murmurs. Your back meets silk, and he lifts your open legs up and around his hips as he settles between your thighs comfortably. Right where he should be. 

The feeling of his heavy weight where you’ve been needing it makes your back arch. He breaks away from you and slides a hand down your chest, laying the route that his mouth will take. 

“You smell like cherries,” he says as he presses his mouth to your collarbone and sucks. 

“I know.” You shudder through a laugh and bring your hand up to the back of his head as encouragement. “Spilled Grenadine.”

He hums noncommittally and shoves the hem of your dress up past your hips and to your midriff in one fluid motion. You wriggle for a second, so exposed so fast, but sigh contentedly when his lips meet your stomach. His mouth is so unexplainably hot, and as his tongue meets you your whole body erupts in goosebumps. It sends a shiver down your spine. It’s even better than you imagined. 

“Knew you’d taste so good,” Rafe practically moans, eyes darting to yours, and his fingertips curl around the waistband of your underwear as you watch. Your cheeks flush at his word. You’re honored to be the recipient of words like his— it’s not often Rafe finds himself giving someone a compliment. He lays a final kiss on your stomach and surges back up towards your chest. He mutters gibberish to himself, probably something like “I hate this fucking dress” and yanks your dress up past your tits. 

His fingers find your left nipple and squeeze as his tongue finds the other. You arch again, unused to the sensation, and let loose a groan. His fingers are so soft and light, but his teeth nip. 

You make a noise of surprise, eyebrows furrowing, and tug at the short, blunt locks of his hair. 

“Impatient,” he reprimands, tongue rolling as he glances up at your pink face. You’re strung so tight you might snap. “Needy.” He releases your nipple with a pop. Your lips are so pink and shiny, he just has to kiss you again. You whine into his mouth when he comes back, fingernails scratching at his scalp, and your legs wind around his waist. 

But he lets go of your hip with his left hand and creeps closer to the crotch of your underwear, fingertips dancing. Your grip on his hair tightens. Between your legs pulses with heat and need, hot on his clothed crotch, and he knows he could calculate your BPM just by laying with you like this. 

“Rafe,” you breathe, staring up at him as your chest heaves. 

“Relax,” he shushes, ducking down to press a kiss to your neck, and you gradually relax the muscles that lock your legs to his abdomen. “There you go.” You think you hear a “good girl” fall from his soft lips but it’s in that moment that he pushes past the cotton and digs his hand into your underwear. 

You immediately spur into motion, back arching and mouth dropping into an ‘O’, and he just bites his lip and watches. You’re so responsive, and it makes his dick fucking ache. 

“Thought about this? Hm?” He pants, releasing his bottom lip from between his teeth, and grins. “So wet, this pussy’s been begging for me for weeks.”

You struggle to nod, movement interrupted by the slew of noises and ramblings of “please” and “yes” and “Rafe” falling from your lips. His middle and ring fingers push past the slick resistance your pussy gives him, and you go silent and slack-jawed as he pushes all the way to the hilt.  

And he’s got big fingers. You wonder if they’re the same size as his dick. If so, you might be in trouble.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you nearly cry, head falling back into the sheets, and you’re slammed back into reality and consciousness of your surroundings. The coolness of the AC makes your nipples peak again, and the sweat on your lower back cools almost as soon as it’s created. But Rafe makes you hot. Your chest and cheeks are flushed a bright pink, and your lips are swollen into a bigger size and slick with his saliva and your own. We don’t even have to discuss how flushed the other parts of your body are—he already knows. 

His fingers curl slightly up and to the right, and your abdomen jerks at the unfamiliar feeling. You curl up slightly, eyebrows furrowed, and try to catch a glimpse of his large hand in your underwear. God, you wish you could take a picture. You lock gazes with him momentarily but fall back down at the look in his face. It’s nearly animalistic. 

“Rafe, please,” you beg, grabbing onto his wrist with both hands. You meet his eyes. “I want you to fuck me. Please.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling his fingers out, and clambers off of you for a second. You sit up, quickly ridding yourself of the dress bunched up to your shoulders, and watch as he rips his shorts off and nears the bed. You don’t even have enough time to gape at the size of him before he’s grabbing your bicep and jerking you onto your stomach. 

You have half a mind to protest his man-handling of you but stay silent as you look up at the angle he positions you. 

There’s a full length mirror opposite this side of his bed, and you just stare at the pair of you as you catch your breath. 

“Like it, huh?” He asks quietly, dipping down and pressing a kiss to your hair. His hand finds your neck and he moves you to face the mirror head on, watching your face closely. You really like the feeling of his fingers around your throat. He can tell, now; your shoulders relax and your lips move into the shape of a smile when he squeezes. 

“You always keep this here?” You ask, head falling onto your folded arms when he releases you to just admire your body. His fingers trace your spine and the curve of your ass, never losing focus. 

“I moved it this morning,” he murmurs, gaze never straying from you. 

“Oh, so you knew you’d be fucking me tonight.” Your face splits into an easy grin, head tilting mischievously. His eyes find yours in the mirror, and he bends again to press his mouth to your lower back. 

“Always teasing me.” His voice is muffled by your smooth skin. He can’t get enough. “Knew it’d happen sometime soon. You can’t stay away forever, you know.” He straightens up but doesn’t find your eyes in the mirror. His large, warm hand maneuvers your hips into a tilted position, and you move up onto your feet. He has you flat on your stomach on the bed, but your ass and legs hang off and the soles of your feet just barely press flat into the floor. “Knew this pussy would get me at some point.” He smacks at an asscheek lightning fast; and your whole body jiggles with the force of his hand. You squeak involuntarily.

A large hand grabs at your shoulder as the other one jerks himself steadily. Once, twice, three times, and then he’s spreading you open and pushing into you. 

Your spine stretches and relaxes when he gets halfway in, and your thighs start to shake when you’re filled all the way to the hilt. 

“Shit, Rafe, you’re fucking big,” you complain, but the tail end of your protest bleeds into a desperate whine. Your fingers grip the sheets tightly, eyes squeezed shut, and your head falls onto your folded arms. “Please,” you say, reaching back to frantically find his hips. “Go slow.”

“Stretching you out, hm,” Rafe comments, breathing hard already, and relieves the pressure by sliding almost all the way out. His tip almost breaches the seam of your slit but he pushes back in, pulling your asscheek away with a thumb to watch. “Fucking sexy.”

You squeeze around him like a vice, but the intrusion is welcome. You will yourself to relax and accept his huge fucking dick, and the thought of yourself getting fucked by him sends a gush of slick between you two. 

“There you go,” Rafe sighs, and pulls out only to fuck back in to you quickly. You cry out, fingers squeezing extra tight on the sheets, but you will yourself to look up.

His chest is flushed in the mirror as his chain swings in the open air, and the pure concentration and pleasure on his face prompts a pleased noise from your throat. You tentatively jerk back into him and his head whips up in the mirror, blue eyes meeting your own. 

“Oh, yeah?” He mutters, teeth catching his lip, and his hips snap into yours. Your mouth drops open only momentarily before you close it and tilt your head to the size coyly, biting your own lip and pushing back into his hips. He watches you carefully in the mirror with squinted eyes, half-impressed and half-challenging. “You think you can take it?” His fingers squeeze at your shoulder tight. 

You just silently nod. Cocky. 

His emotionless gaze locks with yours and his blood pumps hot in his veins. He’s going to make you eat your words. 

His hips surge forward in a suddenly-steady rhythm, skin slapping skin ringing out in the room. You just stare at him, defiant, and push back with every thrust he gives.

Rafe grunts and lets go of your shoulder, replacing his touch with an arm slung around your neck and the other hand between your legs. His warm fingers nudge your clit, finding it immediately, and his hips snap punishingly quickly into yours. 

It’s brutal, having him like this. You hope you bruise. But you challenged him, and somebody has to lose. Except it’s not really a loss when Rafe fucking Cameron is genuinely fucking you into next week. 

“Shit,” you exhale, choking on the inhale that accompanies it, and you squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers rub you in circles. “Fuck, Rafe, that’s so good.” Something hot coils tight in your stomach and your thighs suddenly warm almost in preparation for the wave of sensation. 

“Yeah?” He pants, hot in your ear. “You like that?” His chest sticks to your sweaty back, gluing you together as his strong hips and legs pound you into the mattress. You stay strong, along for the ride, and provide all the verbal encouragement he needs. Your stomach feels hotter and hotter and your throat runs dry. 

“I love it,” you whine, head tilting up as if you’re praying he won’t stop. “Fuck me like this forever.”

“Mhm,” is all he says, too lost in the squeeze of your pussy around him and the warmth your body grants him. You pulse even more, so close. 

You gather some strength and struggle to push up into an elbow, head tilting further and further until you can feel his forehead brush the crown of your head. Your muscles strain. 

“Just like that. Just like—God, shit, right there.”

You squeak when the hot coil in your abdomen snaps and you fall twitchingly onto your stomach. His fingers rub quickly at your clit and you feel suddenly a hundred pounds lighter, eyes rolling back into your head. It’s so fucking good you wonder how you’ll ever masturbate happily again. Your fingers don’t compare in the slightest to this fucking dick. Your chest heaves with the effort it takes to fill your lungs with clean air, and your legs start to shake miserably underneath him. Your thighs feel like jelly and you barely did anything. 

“Please, Rafe,” you beg, turning your head to the side to look innocently up at him. “Give it to me.”

“Yeah?” He pants and leans down to kiss you messily. You groan into his mouth and push back once more into his hips. Your pussy is still buzzing with feeling, and it fades slowly into a pleasant ache the more he fucks into you. “You want it on your back or in your mouth?”

You blink wildly and push onto your palms, signaling that you want to turn over. He pulls out but jerks himself steadily until you scramble onto your knees in front of him, face level with his pelvis and tongue out. You look up at him with the most earnest and well-meaning eyes, and he just has to close his eyes when the tip of his dick finally meets your tongue and he fills your mouth. His chest loosens with the most pathetic noise he’s ever made, a mix between a raw groan and a whimper. Your soft mouth accepts him and cleans his dick, humming contentedly, and when he catches his breath and manages to open his eyes you’re staring up at him, an immensely pleased look on your face. 

You crawl closer and lift onto your knees, arms coming around his neck and pulling him to you. You press a kiss to his mouth. He can almost taste himself on your tongue, and he smoothes a hand down your side to grab onto your asscheek as you just kiss him. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, pulling away slightly to give your face a once-over. “You haven’t even showered yet.”

“And whose fault is that?” You sigh, exasperated. “Someone couldn’t make it up the stairs without shoving his hands up my dress—we barely even made it to the bed.” You smooth a hand down the back side of his head, liking the way his hair feels. 

Rafe just purses his lips. 

“Sounds like a really cool guy to me.”

“Mhm,” you say, rolling your eyes, and sit back on your heels. 

This room is a mess.

The corner of the well-made bed’s sheets and bedspread is yanked from the far corner and lies bunched up in the middle, dark with sweat. It smells like sex in here, the ceiling fan doing nothing to mitigate it, and your work dress is hung haphazardly on the closet door handle. With a dark Grenadine stain down the middle. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Rafe says, interrupting your inner monologue. His warm hand comes to rest on your thigh. 

“What?” You ask, eyebrows drawn. 

“Don’t even think about putting on clothes.”

You scoff.

“Like those would do me any good right now.” You wind your arms around his neck and smirk up at him. “I still haven’t even shown you what’s in my bag.”

His smile grows. 

“What’s in your bag, baby?”

[bluebayousblog]

RUMOR HAS IT (pt. 14)

(Drew Starkey one-shot)

This is not a full on story but if you want more l'll be happy to add on upon request

Plot: in which drew and isobel address a false rumor in the most abstract of ways

Setting: isobel and drew go into town in the mountains

Disclaimer: Isobel is an OC, 18+

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

PART THIRTEEN

Drew’s heart thumped in his chest as the silence made the unspoken tension that was festering between them feel as if it were swallowing him whole. He wasn’t thinking straight, he hadn’t been for what had been going on almost a month, and it was all because of Isobel. He knew better than to kiss her for the first time all those weeks ago given their complicated circumstances with there families, and now he knew better than to get sucked in by her beautiful eyes and lose all of his good sense while said family members were roaming around downstairs on the floor below them.

She hadn’t uttered a single word since he confessed how much his body and mind ached for her. Drew knew he probably was overwhelming her but he couldn’t help what he was feeling—and her silence did nothing to deter him in the slightest because everything she wasn’t saying, was swirling around in those pretty brown eyes of hers. That gleam she had in them when she peered into his own was promising, and just one glance could make all of his fears nonexistent. Drew felt fearless around her and that instilled a sense of boldness within him that just made the thought of getting lost in her with no restraints that much more difficult to resist.

It had always been hard for Drew to deny Isobel, and it seemed as though she was always wordlessly pleading for him to make a move to show her that he wanted her. She was doing it now as she she stared up at him with her back against the bedroom wall, and she’d done it that day in his truck after they drove back from university. Declaring that they put a pause on their physical relationship while they were home for the holidays, but giving him that longing look in her eyes like she wanted him to steal a final kiss from her pouting lips—that look killed him. It struck like a bow piercing into the center of his racing heart and the worst part was that he wasn’t sure she was aware of it.

His eyes darted to her pink lips as she poked them out in a small pout, and he licked his own at the tempting sight. The taste of grapefruit immediately graced his taste buds from her chapstick transferring over during the quick kiss they shared minutes ago and he snapped.

The thought of Isobel staining him, leaving a mark on him, had him hungry for more of the sweet taste and crashing his mouth onto hers. His greedy tongue immediately dipped into her waiting mouth connecting with her smaller one as he close to devoured her seconds into the kiss. Isobel just whimpered against him as she relinquish all control to him, letting his tongue invade every corner of her mouth between their lips smacking together while creating the most crude noises. Her strokes of his tongue were lazy against his harsh ones, but he helped her keep up with his hand gripping her neck just below her jaw so she stayed steadied against him. Isobel was a delicate woman, she didn’t come off as someone who was rough around the edges and he would think he was being too aggressive with her if her soft hands weren’t gripping the forearm that belonged to the hand he had placed on her throat as she pushed herself onto her tiptoes to press their hips together.

He groaned at all of it, the way she tasted, the chapstick he could feel being smeared all over the bottom half of his face, how she felt locked under his body as she still found someway to gain control with just a roll of her hips against his own, and the fact that it was Isobel he was doing this with.

“I need to breathe, Drew.” She gasped as she managed to break away from his hungry lips. He didn’t, air was the last thing he needed when all he wanted to do was kiss her until the feeling of her lips were branded onto his own and he could still feel her for the rest of the day even when hours had passed from spending time with family.

Drew somewhat relented, letting her breathe but still placing messy pecks on her lips like he couldn’t get enough and that was all the space he could give her.

Isobel only allowed herself a couple of shallow pants before pulling him back in, she couldn’t stay away when his blue eyes were dark with obvious want with his lids sitting low as they seemed to glaze over each time their lips touched. And when he looked down between them where they were connected while groaning that was when her resolve snapped.

Drew immediately returned the kiss, not caught off guard in the slightest. She sighed in satisfaction as his tongue slipped into her mouth like he’d never left and completely took over. He was fucking everywhere, his tongue treading her throat with every swipe, one hand still encasing her neck as she harshly swallowed and the other gripping her hip like he thought she would disappear.

Despite where they were they didn’t slow down, he just grasped her throat tighter as if he were trying to kiss her harder than he already was and lowered his other hand to the flesh of her ass, squeezing her there just as tight in a tormenting grip that brought the two closer together. Isobel was sure she was going to pass out from lack of oxygen but she didn’t want stop. Her breath only shallowed all the more when his hand began to slowly trail down her neck until he was tickling her panting chest with the pads of his fingers in passing and continued down until he blindly found her left breast and gently squeezed. She gasped at the feeling, accidentally breaking the kiss, but he didn’t seem to care as he moved his mouth to the corner of her lips. Pleasure from his kneading hands coursed straight down to her belly as her hips lurched further against the hard flesh that was most definitely being suffocated in his pants. Her head knocked back causing a loud thud to sound throughout the room from it hitting the wall.

“Oh shit, Baby.” Drew whispered like talking in a normal voice would get them caught. He hoped they were the only ones who heard the photos that were hanging outside her room rattling on the walls from the impact. “That kind of hurt.” Isobel winced as she slumped forward against him and pushed her face into his chest.

Just as Drew reached to cradle the back of her head like his touch could stop the pain she was feeling, a knock sounded on her bedroom door. They’d definitely gotten a little carried away and by the look of shear panic that was now present on Isobel’s face he didn’t know whether to stay put or hide because he had a feeling whoever walked in would think they both looked guilty.

Isobel forced herself to snap out of the frozen state she was in and reached up to wipe Drew’s lips to with her thumb and she swore she saw his eyes get darker before she turned away to pull the door open. Catherine was standing in the hall holding a laundry basket up on her hip with a content smile on her face, nobody enjoyed cleaning more than Drew’s mother, “Hey, honey, I just came up to get your bedding.”

“Okay, let me help you get it off.” Isobel offered, ignoring the fact that Catherine’s son was standing in the room with them.

His mother’s eyebrows furrowed at his presence, and Isobel’s hearted pounded as she braced herself for her to make some kind of connection as to why they would be alone in her room together, “What are you doing in here, Bear?” Catherine asked as she moved to the bed to help with the comforter, but her words were light, no convictions in her tone whatsoever.

“I was just helping Isobel bring her stuff up.” Drew smiled at his mother as he told her an half truth like a kid, and like clockwork she swooned at his words.

Isobel doesn’t think she’s ever seen Catherine mad or suspicious of Drew a day in her life and she’d known them for years. All he had to do was smile and his mother would forget his behavior, similar to all the girls he toyed with back at school, but the difference was that he loved Catherine. Isobel wasn’t sure where she fell in those two categories.

“You’re my sweetest boy, Drew, but don’t tell Chandler I said that.” Catherine mused while taking the fitted sheet from her hands and throwing it in the basket.

Drew really was sweet, she had just as many memories of him being sweet to her as she did him being annoying. The thought of it had her speaking out loud in adoration, “I didn’t even have to ask him.”

Her eyes snuck and found his blue ones as Catherine bent down to grab the basket, and the wink he gave made her lips spread into a toothy grin just before she lifted back up with the laundry basket back on her hip, now facing Drew.

“You know if you treated girls as well you do Isobel you would have a girlfriend by now, Bear.” She mindlessly stated with a light pat to his chest, “Now come on let’s give her sometime to unpack.”

Drew stiffly obeyed and trailed behind her to the door knowing he didn’t have a reason to stay in the room with her without raising suspicions, “Not every girl can be Isobel, Mom.”

He knew Isobel would probably tear into him for saying that in front of his mother later on, but he wanted them both to know that she wasn’t like any other girl he’d been with before, not even in the slightest. Catherine didn’t reply, they walked out in silence until Drew pulled the door closed and the latched clicked.

“You have a little crush on her don’t you?” She accused when they reached the top of the stair case with a saccharine smile gliding onto her lips.

For the first time Drew was seeing his mother speak of Isobel and him in a somewhat romantic light, and she seemed to like the idea of it from the look on her face. It made his chest fill with pride that at least she would support him, but he still denied them because that’s just how things had to be for the time being.

“What? No.” He tried to lie, but even his attempts to try denying his want for Isobel were becoming harder to make believable—luckily with his mother he usually didn’t have to try as hard as he did with his father.

But his words seemed to go right over her head as she continued to speak, “Do you think she would ever go for you, Drew?”

He could practically see the gears turning in her head just from the tone of her voice as she continued to ramble and the wild look in her eye. Catherine Starkey lived for two things: match making and gossip—and worrying about his relationships fell into each of those past times.

“Mom!” He whispered shouted, interrupting the come apart she was having and grabbed her shoulders like it would make her really understand what he was about to say, “I do not have a thing for Isobel, you can’t go around assuming things like that you’re gonna make people uncomfortable, especially her.”

The pout that appeared on her lips was immediate as her shoulders slouched in his hands like he’d just crushed all of her dreams, “I knew it was a long shot, you’ve just been so attentive to her recently I thought you’d come to your senses.”

His heart squeezed in his chest at her words, his mother’s gut feeling about him were usually always right but he wasn’t about to confirm it. It was amazing to him that even when he was hiding this physical relationship they’d established together from their families the other aspects that had unexpectedly developed —that weren’t supposed to exist—were the most blaring.

He wondered how they would be if things were different, if his feelings would still feel so suffocating as if they bursting out of the seems if he could express his emotions for her in front of everyone. As he considered the thought his mother continued speaking.

“-I guess Isobel would go for someone different than you, that girl has always been extremely selective with everything.”

Her statement immediately caught his attention as his eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. He already knew he wasn’t worthy of Isobel, especially not with his track record with women, but he’d hate for his loved ones to think that as well. The thought of Isobel with any other man also just irked his nerves like no other girl had been able to do, “What do you mean someone different?”

“Meaning you’re an easy man, Drew.” Catherine bluntly stated with a bored look in eyes like what she just said was common knowledge. She must’ve saw the look of shock cross his features as she moved closer to rub his back with her free hand to alleviate the blow of her words, “Your father was the same way until he met me, it was like he did a full 360.”

Drew didn’t bother responding, he couldn’t when his mouth was void of any moisture, Catherine was obviously done with conversation as she descended down the steps while humming a tune, any suspicions of him having a crush no longer on her mind. ‘A full 360.’ That’s exactly how everything felt with Isobel, like his whole world had been flipped into an alternate universe where all of sudden he craved a friend he’d known for almost a decade. A world where he’d kissed a girl, and now she was the only one he wanted for the foreseeable future.

He’d never felt so locked down on something, on a person, while also feeling liberated.

Isobel finally accepted Drew’s invitation to go into town to see all of the Christmas lights later on in the day when he brought up her purse that she left in her father’s truck. He didn’t even mention it again, it was just the sight of him purse in hand that she hadn’t even realized she left and one look into those stormy blue eyes that her confirming her attendance.

Their families never really did anything the first day after having to drive up and do all the cleaning so they most likely wouldn’t be missing anything. Lora and Catherine both had the cabin looking spotless, and pizza from their favorite pizzeria was the perfect way to cap off the night. Isobel knew she and Drew could’ve eaten while in town, but she figured they should stay and enjoy a meal with family before they went off together.

They sat around the kitchen island and conversed about random things until everyone started migrating over to the front den as they finished their food to watch whatever Christmas movie was playing. Their parents were indulging in the wine they had stocked in the pantry while Chandler scrolled on his phone with his head lying on Catherine’s arm when Isobel and Drew made their way to the front door to leave. Isobel found it cute how the younger Starkey always found himself cuddling their mother without even realizing it.

“I’m going to take Isobel into town to do some last minute shopping.” Drew announced, stealing everyone’s attention away from the television.

This was normal for the two of them, Isobel didn’t drive so Drew often times had to take her places, and whenever they did come to the cabin he took her into town at least once during the trip. Except before he’d never cherished the alone time he was getting with her in the years prior. He wanted nothing more than to see her standing under the varying lights with snow falling all around and being able to just take in the sight without anyone watching.

“I wanna go with you guys.” Chandler eagerly said from across the room.

It took Drew all of his restraint not to let a look of annoyance pass over his face. Chandler had been acting like an irritating fly that wouldn’t go, and the worst part was that Isobel found it entertaining. The girl was currently looking down trying to hide the smile on her face as she snickered to herself, and he knew she wouldn’t have the heart to tell his little brother no.

But before he could come up with an excuse to keep Chandler from tagging along his father was already speaking, “You can go with them another time, you’re helping me cut the firewood tonight.���

Charles’ eyes stayed trained on the movie playing even with Drew’s eyes boring into his head.

“You want to cut firewood in the freezing cold at night?” His little brother’s tone was bored yet incredulous, like what Charles was insisting was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.

“It’s always cold up here no matter the time of day, Bud, plus we have the heater out back, it’ll be fine.” Charles got up from the leather couch and stretched his long limbs, “Come on let’s go get started, Drew make sure you bring Isobel back in one piece.”

Drew rolled his eyes at his father’s insistence reminding him to take care of Isobel. That was never something anyone had to worry about even before things changed between them.

“We can go again tomorrow I promise!” Isobel assured as she assessed the pout on Chandler lips, both brothers were annoying but she had soft spots for both of them, “Bye Mom and Dad...”

She trailed off at the sight of her father knocked out on the reclining chair with his mouth cracked open as little snores escaped his lips. One thing you could always count on Richard Cooper to do was fall asleep whenever a movie was put on. “Bye, Sweetheart be careful.” Lora gave her a big smile before taking another sip of wine and going back to whatever gossip Catherine was probably telling her over her wine glass.

After a few more goodbyes and watching Chandler begrudgingly stomp off to bundle up to help Charles, Isobel and Drew were finally alone on the front porch of the cabin. As soon as the door was locked she was running to the passenger seat of the truck to escape the frigid temperatures that still managed to have her shivering beneath the multiple layers of clothes she was wearing. She probably looked ridiculous with the giant puffer and thick scarf wrapped around her neck and mouth, but this was the only way she could take on the cold weather.

“Quit running you could slip and fall, Isobel.” Drew warned as he carefully followed behind her to avoid just that.

Isobel ignored the fussy tone in his voice and yanked the door that didn’t open to her dismay, “Just unlock the door Drew before I go back inside.” Isobel whined as her teeth violently chattered in her mouth.

Drew immediately obeyed, reaching past her body to pull the door handle open and helping her into the truck that doubled her in height. He quickly ran over to the drivers side and turned the heater on the maximum setting as soon as the engine roared to life. He hated seeing her miserable, but he also found it extremely adorable seeing her all bundled up and fidgeting around to find any type of extra warmth beside him while he drove them into town. She didn’t utter a word in the short ride over, and by the time he pulled into a parking space her teeth had seemed to stop chattering.

“You alright, Izzy?” Drew tried to suppress the smile threatening to appear on her lips—not at her discomfort, but just at the moment they were sharing together in general. This was reminding him of the night they shared outside the library when their desires were still so fresh, but this was simple yet still as memorable. He longed to have many more nights like this in the future.

“Yes.” She replied and shuffled her body around to face him, “If we get out of this car I’ll have to go through that whole process to warm up again.”

Isobel wanted more than anything to see the lights, but she was always hoping he wouldn’t make her get out. Though, she knew that wasn’t an option, they’d driven all the way here after all. Drew just sat there and chuckled at her words, his eyes twinkling in admiration. He just looked content and relaxed as he gazed at her, nothing similar to when he basically had his tongue stuck down her throat earlier in the day. “You know there’s heaters everywhere, just stay close to me and you’ll be fine.”

“Alright, come and get me, please.” Isobel complied with a sort of nervous looking smile on her lips.

Drew waited to turn off the ignition when he got out of the truck and jogged over to her side. He knew keeping the heater on a little longer would stop her from complaining. He swung the door open causing the cold air to hit her face and she was immediately wincing at the impact. Drew shook his head at her before stepping on the footboard to lift himself inside so he could lean his body over her smaller one to cut the engine. As soon as the hot air stopped blowing she clung tightly to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling their bodies together. She felt the chuckle rumbling deep in his throat against her cheek that was attached to the warm skin of his neck. He quickly had to step down from the footboard onto the pavement of the parking lot so they wouldn’t fall leaving her staring down at him with his chest still tucked closely against her body. Drew eventually grabbed her waist and helped her down, their bodies sliding against each other as he lowered her to the ground, and Isobel being the menace that she is pulled him into a kiss.

Their little pecks were slow, but also ended sooner than she would have liked. That’s how it always felt with him, like she could never seem to get enough of his lips on her own. She just wanted nothing more than to make up for the kisses they missed out on when they were pretending not to want each other. Drew squeezed her hips, and she emitted a bratty moan when their lips disconnected with a lewd smack.

His hands moved to her back before running down to her ass and squeezing the flesh, and she didn’t even gasp, she just smiled up at him. “What was that for, Isobel?”

“Just keeping warm, Drew.” She innocently stated and stayed attached to his side as they begin walking to the entrance.

The Christmas lights were beautiful this year, they were hung all throughout the little village in the most intricate displays that never failed to leave Isobel in awe. Drew had never been one to find entertainment in the blinding bulbs, but he could watch the amazement on her face for days on end as the lights reflected off her skin.

They did a plethora of things the town had to offer for the holidays. There were so many foods and desserts to try, but they settled on a pretzel that Isobel hogged most of. He bought them both a hot chocolate, wanting to stay on top of his promise to make sure she didn’t get cold, and eventually an hour had passed and she hadn’t mention the temperature at all.

Still, she stayed glued to his side.

“Let’s do the photo booth before we head back.” Isobel excitedly suggested.

Drew had no plans on objecting, but it still seemed he had no choice as she tugged him behind the curtains—not that it mattered, he would do anything she wanted, she was freezing her ass off for him after all “Whatever you want, Is.”

Her eyes found his as an unreadable look passed over her face at his words, he just knew she was staring at him with so much emotion he couldn’t do anything but just silently gaze back. He knew what he just said meant so more than what it did in the moment, but it was never his never his intention—him making these declarations he knew could scare her away.

A flash from the camera broke the tension, and Isobel looked forward to see the session had started. She was pointing at the camera with a smile as the flash went off snapping another off guard moment between the two, “Drew come on we only have two poses left.”

When she turned back to him he was still looking at her from before. His eyes drifting down to her lips as she spoke. The flash then caught him grabbing the back of her neck before pulling her into another sweet kiss. His kisses were so disorienting for her especially when he initiated them. Time just seemed to stop as she forgot where they were.

“Are you guys done? People are waiting out here.” An older voice asked from the other side of the curtain.

Isobel ripped her lips away from his with gasp, her cheeks immediately heated in embarrassment. The two rushed out of the booth in haste to find an elderly couple waiting with an amused smile. “Sorry guys.” Isobel apologized while discreetly pulling Drew away who looked to have no shame at all.

“Don’t forget your pictures.” The man called out to them before they got far. They both walked back over to grab the strips as Isobel peered around his arm. “You guys make a beautiful couple.” Said the lady before she disappeared with her partner behind the booth.

“Do you think we look like a couple?” Isobel asked with a small laugh to cover up the awkwardness she was feeling.

“I don’t think it was us ‘looking’ like a couple as much as it was the photo of us kissing, Izzy.” Drew smirked down at the photo strip. The last two snapshots were the two leaning in and then her head against the wall of the booth with their lips pressed together. He had no idea what part of the kiss was captured before the couple interrupted.

“That is so humiliating, who knows what they thought we were doing in there.” Isobel groaned and took one of the strips from his hand.

Drew’s heart warmed as he visibly saw the embarrassment fall from her face as a small smile replaced it while assessing the pictures. His phone buzzed in his pocket, Charles’ name lit up the screen and he accepted the call, letting Isobel continue to marvel.

“What’s up, Dad?” He greeted which finally caught her attention.

“Hey, it’s about to start snowing pretty bad in about an hour, go ahead and get Isobel home.”

Drew agreed before they hung up, he still hated his father’s lack of faith in him when it comes to Isobel, but he could appreciate how much Charles cares about her.

“What did he say?”

“It’s about to start snowing, we gotta go before the roads get crazy.” Drew answered, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

When they got back to the truck he opened her door, made sure she got in alright, and hopped in on his side to start the engine. It didn’t take long for it warm up to her pleasure, but for the majority of the short ride he was going back and forth on whether he should tell Isobel about his father. They’d had such a good night, and of course Charles found a way to cap it off and somehow get into his head.

Though, it wasn’t exactly his fathers fault he was keep things from Isobel.

“I had fun tonight, Drew.” Isobel looked over from the passenger seat with a smile plastered on her lips, “You really are sweet, it makes sense why your mom calls you ‘Bear.’”

“Yeah?” He rasped and placed a hand on her thigh.

She hummed in response, “Yeah, sweet like a honey bear, I think I’m going to steal it from her.”

Drew put the car in park when they pulled into the driveway, thankful they’d made it the whole way without hitting any ice patches. The thought of Isobel wanting to give him a nickname set his chest ablaze, and the fact that she was getting it from someone he loved so dearly only made the feelings he wasn’t supposed to be having twist in his gut.

“Okay, Izzy Bear.” He smirked, Isobel playfully rolled her eyes and reached for the door handle to get out before Drew stopped her, “Wait, I need to tell you something.”

Her hand froze as did her whole body. Her mind immediately thinking the worst, silently rethinking every moment they shared today to possible brace herself for what he was going to say, but nothing stood out. That’s how things always were with guys like Drew, them turning your world up side down then leaving you to pick up the pieces.

Drew took her silence as opportunity to just bite the bullet, “Charles knows.”

He didn’t want to tell her because Charles knowing came with a lot. Realization that this secret they’d been trying to keep wasn’t such a secret anymore. His insistence on Drew telling Cooper, which she didn’t even know about yet. The fact that she was going to have to come to terms with a lot of things she probably wasn’t ready to accept just yet.

And he hated that he felt like he had a part in potentially making her feel as such.

“Oh.” Was all she said until she eventually turned towards him and met his eyes, “How?”

Everything about her seemed so small in this moment, her voice, her clipped words, her shrinking presence. It was as if he could see her pulling away right in front of his eyes, and it made him feel desperate to grasp onto the parts of her that were still there. Still willing.

“He just figured it out, Isobel, I don’t even know how to explain it. It was like he knew from the day we got back into town.” He was pleading to her, though he wasn’t sure she realized because she remained silent, so he continued, “I denied it, I still haven’t exactly told him but he’s set on the fact that we’re together.”

His heart pounded for Isobel for many reasons today, the sweet kisses they shared, the simple glances she directed his way, and the smiles on her face but now it was pounding at the blank stare she was giving him.

“So you were dealing with this the whole time and didn’t tell me?” Isobel was freaking out inside, yet all she could do was give him the bare minimum in return.

“I thought I could handle him, but it seems like I’ve just made it worse.” He mumbled and she winced, it was the most emotion she’d showed in the last few minutes and it was her bracing herself for the impact of his words, “He wants me to to tell your dad.”

She dropped her her face into her hands. She’d been wishing for any source of warmth the entirety of the night, but now the heat blasting through the vents felt suffocating—so suffocating she could run out of the truck into the freezing cold at the moment. She dryly laughed, in need of some sort of outlet to get rid of the pent up emotion building in her chest.

“I can’t do this, Drew.” Isobel whispered, not able to look at him.

She could feel his stiffness as the weight of her words remained stale in air. “What do you mean, Isobel?”

His voice sounded like it hurt to speak, and the sound alone made her stomach wrench. Never did she expect to hear him ever sound so gutted in regards to her pulling away from him. It made her realize just how much their feelings were actually involved, which made her want to run even more.

“It’s too much, I just can’t do this.” She reiterated as if she explained herself anymore, but she’d never been good at that in the first place—saying how she felt.

Isobel pushed the door open to the truck and carefully hopped down before slamming it shut behind her then went straight for the front door of the cabin. Drew was right on her heels, but she already had the door open before he could stop her and get her to talk to him—to tell him what she was actually thinking—to tell him what she was scared of.

“You guys are back, already? Did you have fun?” Isobel glanced over toward the den, not settling on any particular face but recognized the voice as her mother’s.

“Yeah.” She stuttered despite her trying to come off as unbothered as possible, “I’m gonna go get ready for bed, see you guys in the morning.”

Isobel didn’t wait for any responses before she was jogging up the steps to the second floor. The whole way up she could feel the gaze of a particular boy she hated that she recognized on her back, and slammed the wooden door behind her. Running the first chance she could as the photos they took together burned a hole in her pocket.

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

[itneverendshere]

should've said it - rafe cameron (part two)

requested: "a Rafe x reader smut where she cheats on her bf with Rafe and at an event where she's with her boyfriend she notices Rafe staring at her and all the flashbacks leave her horny and needy for his touch and his touch only. Maybe some angst with her boyfriend catching them in the act."

part i. warnings: cheating; smut; ex friends with benefits; friends with benefits to lovers; angst!!; heartbreak; happy ending <3

After that night, every day felt like someone took a fire to the inside of your stomach.

It was hot, burning even. You were uncomfortable whenever it came because it was a feeling you couldn’t suppress. You’d felt it ever since that night, and it only ever grew as the days progressed.

You’d think a smart person like yourself would stop. Realize that what you did, what you were doing to Blake was wrong, but alas…It was hard to make any coherent thoughts or decisions when you were full of Rafe Cameron.

As in every day, every time you two crossed paths, even when you woke up, all you could do was think about him. And that stupid mouth. So, it wasn't exactly a surprise to you when it happened again, and again, and again. 

Really, at that point, you should've known better. You should’ve left this forsaken town the moment you fell into his right back into his trap. You didn’t intend to spend another night with Rafe’s cock inside you, pistoling his hips back and forth vigorously. You swore to God you didn't.

You couldn’t remember how you ended up with him. His hand was wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough so you would keep quiet, for your own sake. You were sure he wasn’t the least bit concerned about getting caught. Your lips broke away from his, but you were still an inch apart.

“We, we can’t—" You tried to say, but words turned to mumbles as he closed the gap, hips grinding into yours. His free hand tightened around your waist as your hands found home in his hair. You wanted to tense up, push him off you, to give a speech about how good your life had been since he broke your heart, but you also wanted this.

You wanted more. 

The first-floor bathroom you stumbled in, in the country club, was dangerously close to where everyone, all your friends and boyfriend, were hanging out. You could faintly hear the music blaring from the other room, the chatting, but you knew you would’ve been heard over all of that if he wanted to.

The squelching noises were probably loud enough to be heard just outside the door. This time, the sex was messy, quick, sloppy but so good you could feel your toes curling. Rafe’s mouth was attached to your neck, biting down to try to muffle his own noises.

You almost came on the spot every time he’d accidentally let out a moan. You were too far into your own pleasure to care about anything else at the moment, more specifically the set of knocks at the door.

It wasn’t until Blake’s voice sounded through your ears you snapped your head up, eyes wide.

“Baby, everything good in there? You’ve been gone for ages.”

Fuck.

Rafe lifted his head from your shoulder, merely looking at you. You could read him like an open book, so you mouthed a quick “Don’t.”

Which he ignored. You could see it in his eyes, they had this mischievous tint to them, one you hadn’t seen in years. You would’ve cursed him right out if it wasn’t for the fact your boyfriend was just inches away while your ex-something was inside you.

“Baby?”

Every nickname that came from Blake’s mouth felt like a stab to Rafe’s heart. If he didn’t care about you as much as he did, if he wasn’t in love with you, he’d go back to his old ways and make sure your boyfriend heard you cum around his cock. But he played good for you…as good as Rafe Cameron could play.

He loosened his grip on your throat and nodded his head at your unsure, terrified expression.

“Y-yeah. Everything’s fine!”

“You’re sure? Want me to get you some water?”

He brought his thumb down to your clit and you gasped before you could even process his actions. His smirk was telling enough that he was enjoying this a lot more than he should. You bit into your bruised bottom lip so hard you felt like you drew blood, “I’m fine! I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay. By the way, did you see Cameron? That Topper dude is looking for him.”

Oh, you’d seen him all right. 

“Better answer, pretty,” Rafe whispered in your ear, amusement lacing his tone. As if he wasn't dragging his cock inside you just the way you liked. Your eyes were so far at the back of your head, you shouldn't be that aroused. Your hands clamped down on his firm biceps, pussy squeezing his cock like a vice.

“H-Haven’t seen him.” You answered with whatever self-control you had left. 

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go back inside. Hurry up, you’re missing all the fun.”

You were not missing all the fun.

Rafe let out a huff of amusement at that because he knew.

One look into your fucked up expression and he knew the damn fun in question was right there, between your two bodies. That should’ve been the last time. You should’ve seen it as a warning, but you didn’t. Because whatever you and Rafe had was too good to let go. You barely spoke to each other, only lingering looks and then you found yourself on top of him, under him, on top of a counter, wherever, whenever. 

You were doing more damage to you and him than you’d like to admit, but at least you had something.

Attempting to convince yourself it was a meaningless fling was stupid. Attempting to convince yourself that you didn’t love him anymore was even more stupid. You made sure he never got the chance to open his mouth again and confess his undying love for you, otherwise you’d walk out the door.

Your mother, save her terrible kook tendencies, always told you: love was comfort and protection, nurture, and acceptance, calm and passionate, stoic, and spontaneous, generous and forgiving.

Somehow, even with no words, only actions, that’s exactly how you felt when you were with him, dreading the moment you had to make your way back to Blake’s arms. Truth to be told, you hadn’t touched your boyfriend in months. It was a miracle he was still around.

Sometimes you wondered if he got his fair share somewhere else, which you didn’t care if he did, but he seemed too nice to do that to someone.

You’d only found love with Rafe, and even then, you weren't sure if you could call it by its name since the outcome was disastrous. In your terrible efforts to cage your heart from his touch, you’d come to describe Rafe as a monster over the years, but now…now that you’re gambling with so many hearts, you’re not sure if you are any different.

You don’t feel an ounce of regret in your heart. That flash of love, anger, lust, with him…how could you ever regret something you’d been longing for? How could someone regret something that felt right? 

No matter how fleeting the moments with him were, you’d never felt so close to your element, in years. Rafe always brought your true colors, the part of you that was hidden from others. The thought of him, all of him, just the whisper of your imagination was enough to leave you in shambles. You had no thoughts, no focus, only desire and the pain of waiting since that night. You’d get your refill, and then you were back to aching. 

But the big question remained: Were you two fucking in love or fucking each other up?

Honestly, you should be mad. Furious. How could you let him stroll back into your life with absolutely no consequences? No fight? So easily? 

After the last time you were together, your phone rang for days.

Missed calls, voicemails left unanswered, texts left unread. You weren’t sure how he got a hold of your new number. You weren’t keen on finding out either. You couldn’t face him. If you pretended he didn't exist, maybe it would ease the pain.

You’d never be embarrassed about being with someone you love, but being caught cheating on the man you were dating, a rich, influential man, wouldn’t look too good to the public eye. 

Sarah’s wolf whistle shattered your daydreaming, heart jumping right into your throat, heart beating even more rapidly than when you two had been running to the party venue. 

Another stupid kook event. Couldn't say you missed them. 

“Are you even listening?”

“No? I can’t believe you dragged me out. You know I hate the country club.” You grumbled as Sarah Cameron dragged you through the doors. 

The flimsy light blue sundress suddenly felt tight around your torso and limbs. Although she guaranteed you that Rafe wasn’t attending, you couldn’t help but scan the room for his face. The last time you were here…A faint blush dotted your face as you walked past the so-called powder room and recounter a much more intimate meeting with the older Cameron sibling just days ago.

No. Stop thinking about him. 

“The country club hates us back, so what? It’s summer, you’re finally back and we’re going to get shit-faced now that I’m legal.”

“Because you’ve never had a drink before,” you sighed, sarcasm lacing your tongue as you loosened your hold of her arm. Your body automatically rested against the bar’s counter, “You forced me to come, you’re paying.”

Sarah gave you a look at that, “You’re older.”

“And?”

“Fine,” She rolled her eyes as she turned her attention to the bartender, “Two pornstar martinis, please.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her you to needed something stronger. It wasn't like you could tell her you were accidentally fucking her older brother, more times than you could keep track of...in a stranger’s bedroom, in a bathroom, in the out open sea, while your current boyfriend at the time was somewhere close waiting for you.

You really needed something to stop you from thinking, but the martinis would be sufficient for a while.

She sat beside you, leaning into your left shoulder close enough to smell her sickly-sweet perfume. Some things never changed. “So…” Sarah paused, taking a sip from her drink, honey-brown eyes seizing you up.

“So?”

“Can’t believe Rafe had to do the walk of shame because of you.”

A little embarrassment you could take. Not that though. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, something thick and rough curling around your stomach.

“What?” You tried to keep your voice light, steady even. You played nonchalantly with your fingers, trying not to pick your nails. A nervous habit you had yet to grow out. 

“He told me.”

You struggled to keep your face neutral, feeling the sinking realization that this, whatever this was, was no longer your dirty little secret. The Rafe you remembered despised his little sister and would’ve never confessed something so personal to her. 

“Told you what, exactly?”

You could barely focus on the conversation, your mind racing as Sarah moved in her seat to explain.

“I know what happened between you two when you were in college” She was frowning even as you tried to give her a trembling, sad smile, “And trust me when I say you had every right to walk away. He was a train wreck back then, as awful as they come.”

“Sarah..”

“He’s different now. Better, he even stood up to dad you know?” Sarah chuckled, knowing there was no other reason for you to be drinking that fast unless you were upset or mad, “So imagine my surprise when he barged through my bedroom last night, completely shitfaced and crying his heart out.”

Each word felt like a knife sinking into your chest. The realization that you’d hurt him suddenly, thick and sour. He cried? God, what were you thinking. You opened your mouth, but no words came out, you know you have fucked up majorly.

“He didn’t go into details, obviously,” She assured you, taking in your frenzied expression, “But I think you should talk to him.”

You felt bile rise in your throat, “I don’t think I can.”

“I love you, you know that. And I know that he hurt you, but hurting him back isn’t going to do any good to your sanity, or Blake’s.”

You grimaced, closing your eyes at the way her voice seemed to boom in your ears, “I can’t.”

You stood up then, the floor shaking beneath you. Your hand was tight around hers, your knuckles white but with every silent second that passed your fingers loosened, falling limp.  

“I don’t want you and Rafe to hurt each other.” Her voice was sharp, and in your overthinking moment, it almost sounded critical.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Do you love my brother?” She asked, attitude easing up. “If you don’t, it’s not worth it. It’s not worth ruining a relationship for someone you don’t love, trust me.”

Your shoulders sagged. You felt so tired, defeated. You softly smiled at your friend, and she smiled back, but you could see the concern in her eyes “'Course I do.”

You’d been good at pretending with Blake. Pretending you were happy when you were clearly not, pretending you were calm when you were downright furious. You pretended because, sincerely? It didn’t matter. As harsh and cruel it may sound to someone else, Blake didn’t matter, not like that and you could no longer lie convincingly to yourself.

“Have you told him?" 

“Don't need to,” you said, defensiveness creeping into your voice.

"I think he would like to know."

“We’re not really on speaking terms.”

Sarah clasped a hand on your shoulder, she knew better than to argue. She was sure you were going to figure things out for yourself, but she couldn’t help but push you in that direction, “He’s home.”

A spark of hope and fear appeared within you, waiting to ignite into a flame. You expelled a shaky breath. “Sarah,” You said, frustration rising in your belly, breaking your barely composed face, “I don’t know.”

She only hummed in response, compassion clear in her warm brown eyes as she studied you, “Just think about it.”

And think about it you did.

For another entire week. You’d always known what you really wanted, at this point you were just making up excuses to avoid the inevitable.

In the meantime, breaking up with Blake was easy and the smartest idea you’ve had in years. Straight to the point, understanding even. It wasn't like he was head over heels for you either, but you could tell he was still hurt, so you chose to omit the entire truth. You were in love with someone else, that wasmore than enough to end a relationship and should've been more than enough to not start one. 

You were a terrible person. But you were much more worried about Rafe than about your ex. You played him along the entire summer, for sex and he obeyed. Didn’t even question you or the situation once. As if he’d take whatever you gave him. But you’re going to fix it.

It was dizzying, it was terrifying, and entirely disarming. Your frantic eyes sweep back and forth between the keys in your hand, the ones that granted you access to TanneyHill’s front door and the road behind you.

In disbelief or denial, perhaps. 

How many times had you walked in here for a family dinner, betting on who would start a fight that night? How many times had you walked into this house together, bumping his shoulder playfully as you chuckled at a joke he told? How many times had you both drunkenly shushed each other, trying not to laugh too loudly after a party?

Everything in this house reminded you of him. Of you two, together.

The fight was lost the moment you walked in. Your footsteps echoed on the marble floors as you made your way to his bedroom, trying to ignore the thoughts that hounded you. You reached the hallway, intending to have a very long inner dialogue before knocking on his door. But then, you hear your name uttered so softly, from his lips. 

Slowly you turned, afraid that if you did so too fast the vision was going to disappear from your eyes all at once. You saw him standing at the threshold of the room as he had done so many times before.

A shy smile pulled at his mouth as his shocking blue eyes locked with your own. Running a hand through your disheveled hair briefly, you breathed slowly. I’m going crazy. You thought to yourself. I’ve officially lost my mind.

Rafe stepped into the room with you, closing the distance, “You’re here.” he breathed out in disbelief. 

His bedroom used to be familiar and comforting, but now it reminded you of the years you’d spent apart. You remembered how you’d sit by his window when you were fourteen and in your hunger games phase, reading the books whenever you had a free moment. 

You were his girl, and he wanted to hold you, but he fought the urge to relax into you. He didn’t realize it was going to feel like this, like his heart was screaming and wailing until it could no longer, only to start back up again as soon as it could.

You tried not to look at him, staring down at your hand instead. Your chest was heaving, and your expression had morphed from frustrated anger to one of disbelief, as you stared down at your palm.

You tried to ignore the anxious thoughts as if they are some kind of distant radio. “Sorry, I’m—I’m sorry,” You were muttering, voice timid. “I shouldn't h-have— sorry. I-I shouldn’t have—"

Rafe wrapped his arms around you in a moment and you let your head rest upon his chest. All your thoughts stopped, as if your heart took over your head when you were this close to him. Next, he squeezed you like he needed to check you were real, that you were really there with him, and you were, body and soul.

He held you so close that your own chest rose and fell with each breath he took. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, pretty,” he muttered into your hair, “I was the one who fucked up everything. I'm sorry. I hate that I didn’t fight for you. I hate that I wasn’t enough, I hate that you had to see me at my lowest point. I hate that he was with you all nights. I hated that we didn’t speak and that you didn’t look at me and that you were looking at him and—”

He was rambling now, all nonsense and tight breaths. It was heartbreaking how messed up this whole situation felt. He shook his head almost mournfully, like no matter what he’d say to you, you’d never forgive him, almost as if he was preparing himself to say goodbye to you and the possibility of the two of you.

You smoothed your hand down his back, following the curve and dip of his spine, rubbing soothing circles into the base. He seemed to melt into you at the touch, though he was careful not to rest his weight on you. You don't think you’d mind it, really. You tugged him closer, still.

“I broke up with Blake.”

Rafe couldn't help his soft gasp. Because everything he’d ever wanted was now closer than ever. But despite the growing giddiness, he needed to know what it meant, what it means for you, for him.

“What? When?”

“A week ago, after the last time we—” you paused and sighed, involuntarily stroking his back with your thumb, “I realized that this is what I want.”

“I—" he coughed, clearing the heaviness out of his lungs, “I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, and I know I didn’t deserve you, I don’t think I deserve you still, no one does. And I’ll understand if you walk away.”

His voice was so soft, and without looking at him you knew that there were tears forming in his eyes. “Don’t say that.”

“I was— um…I was an addict, pretty, you know that. I was drowning and I couldn’t let you join me,” He trailed off, timid and low as if he was afraid of scaring you off again, “I understand now, that I should’ve let you make your own decision, but I knew you were hurting, I felt it. I hated that you had to see the things I did to myself, the way I treated people.”

“You were hurting,” you grumbled, eyebrows furrowed as you placed your hands on his strong chest, pushing yourself away from him, as if his words inflicted pain in your heart. You watched a frown take over his pretty face at the loss of contact, missing your touch already, “I’m not making excuses for your behavior, you should’ve done better. But you’ve always been good to me, despite everything.”

“Not good enough baby,” He took a step forward, bringing your body flush to his once again, his hand dropping to his side as his pinky brushed delicately just across your hip bone, “I’m sorry.”

“When I got home that night, I cried my eyes out. I sat on that couch for hours, staring at the door, half-expecting you to burst through the door at any moment with an apology and kisses.”

Rafe’s eyes welled up as you spoke, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying. He almost did exactly that. You were, you'd always be, the most important person in the world to him and he’d hurt you so much. Your own tears threaten to spill. You felt his heartbeat pound again as your hands rested on his chest, “But I understand now, it’s okay.” 

You whispered, pushing your body onto your tip toes to bring yourself closer to his face. His arms found home around your waist, resting his rough hands on your lower back, now with the physical ability to hold his world in his arms, you. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Rafe admitted as if you were in your own little word. He was staring down at you, reaching down so his fingers ghosted over your cheek, brushing a piece of hair back behind your ear. You felt the flush in your cheeks instantly as if he'd never seen you naked before. “But if you let me, I’d like to spend this lifetime and the next, proving I’m good for you.”

“I’d like that Rafe,” your heart rate was so loud it would be embarrassing at any other given moment, you felt like you were going to run out of excuses and just let him take you, "A lot."

His lips twisted, trying to stop them from trembling. He’d been trying so hard, for years, to be better, to keep himself gathered, to find himself again. At the sound of his name falling from your mouth, sounding so much like love, he was able to pull himself together.

“Yeah?”

His head was swirling with a newfound desire and relief to hear you admit your feelings for him so willingly, that what he felt for you was requited in the same amount.

“Yeah.”

His hand drifted up until it cupped the side of your face, overwhelming you as he cradled you so gently. His thumb traced your jaw as his eyes bore straight into your being.

“Lemme hear you say it.”

You sighed, “I want to be happy, I want to be loved. And you’re the only person I’ve ever seen that happiness with. I love you.” Both of you close your eyes, your lips barely brushing over each other. “It’s always going to be you, Rafe.”

In a strained voice, he asked, “Really?”

You looked into his ridiculously blue eyes and nodded before he loss any sense of reality. Your heart clenched in sync with your thighs and suddenly there was nothing left to say, no other excuse to be had. 

He couldn't stop himself as his hand firmly took a hold of your neck and pulled you forward. His lips found yours and for a second you barely registered the pressure. It was delicate as if you were both sixteen again, trying to savor the first touch. 

His lips moved effortlessly against yours and you felt yourself melting in his arms, legs close to buckling beneath you if it wasn’t for his strong hold. A whimper escaped from your mouth and at the sound, Rafe pressed his lips harder against your own. You couldn't stop yourself from letting your head lull back as you felt his thumb press against your pulse. 

With a flick of his tongue, your hands digged into his back, and it pulled a groan from the back of his throat. Your hips bucked forward into his, desperate to feel anything, everything. 

At the feeling of your movement, his teeth took a firm hold around your lower lip and pulled back, releasing it with a pop. His eyes traced the way some of his saliva pooled along your lower lip and he wished for nothing more than to have this view for the rest of his life.

“I love you, pretty,” he whispered lowly, finger twisting around the string of your mini skirt, as his eyes scanned your face with the utmost softness you’d ever seen, “But I need to fuck you."

As his lips found your collarbone, his hands took hold of your thighs, and before you could process his words and you were up, legs around his hips. A small noise escaped your mouth at the sudden feeling, your feet coming off the ground, his core meeting yours. 

“Is that a threat, Cameron?”

Teasingly, his hands trailed down the outside of your thighs before firmly wrapping around your ass. He glanced up at you and smirked as you arched into him, his breath fanning across your breasts through the thin material of your top.

“It’s a promise."

[grooveology]

pope heyward is a caring boyfriend. he’ll make you read your textbooks while he eats you out, he cares greatly about your education <3.

[thewulf]

Accidentally in Love || JJ Maybank

Summary: Request - Hey! I see you write for Outer Banks. Have you seen season 3? Can you write a JJ Maybank x Routledge Reader where he finds her hurt at the chateau on a friday night after you didn't show up to the weekly kegger at the boneyard?? John B is too hung up on Sarah to notice your absence. Maybe she got hurt by her bf/ex-bf?? Surfing accident? Your choice! Love your writing!

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Y/N

Word Count: 4,900+

Friday evening out on the water. There was nowhere else you’d rather be. You took a long-drawn-out breath smelling the salty ocean air letting your arms stretch over your head. The rays from the sun were still hot, it wasn’t setting for another few hours or so. God, you loved it here.

This was your favorite pre-kegger ritual. Just you, the open ocean, and your surfboard. JJ taught you when you were both relatively young. You fell in love with it the same way you fell in love with your best friend. Slowly and surly over time with lots of dedication, love, and many tears.

A relatively calm night brought small waves throughout the entire evening. You tried to stand up on a few of them but didn’t seem to have the speed. It was getting darker out signaling that you needed to start getting ready to go to the Bone Yard.

Sighing softly, you were just going to have to call it a night. It was already getting too late. But just as you were heading in the waves started coming. You smiled knowing you can hit one before you go in. You deserved it, you’d been out for hours without have any such luck.

You let out a gleeful laugh as you caught a wave a bit closer to the shoreline than you really should have. You knew better. But you felt truly invincible out there. That feeling was short lived as the wave swallowed you whole. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. But you were too close. The wave was breaking far too close. Panic rose in your chest when you realized just where the wave had taken you under.

You’d be okay. You just couldn’t freak out too hard. Panicking was the worst thing you could do in this situation. You were a pogue. You’d be just fine. You just had to keep swimming and try and find your way up. No big deal.

Thinking you were in the free and clear when you bobbed to the surface you attempted to stand before a second wave knocked your feet out from underneath you. The first wave must have pushed you further down the beach than you realized.

You left side made painful contact with a jagged rock near the shoreline. The wave took and drug you across the sharp edges of the rock like you wore nothing, eliciting a cry in agony as the rock dug into your side, breaking through the surface of your skin. Mother nature didn’t seem to have your back as the force of the same wave knocked your head right into another rock.

You inhaled a lungful of salty ocean water sending shivers through your entirety. You knew this was a very bad situation to be in. Your head was hazy. Your side was screaming in agony from the open wound being immersed in salty water. You felt like you were drowning with a lungful of water.

Thankfully, fate had other plans for you as you resurfaced coughing up whatever you could your lungs. Your body felt like it was being stabbed from sixteen different directions. Your head was throbbing, and your legs were shaking wanting to give out on you. But you knew it was now or never, you had to make it to the shoreline, or you might not make it at all.

Somehow you managed to crawl your way back to beach. The adrenaline of the accident started wearing off as you got closer to safety. Hauling your body onto the rocky beach you continued to cough out the remaining ocean water that seemed stuck in your lungs.

After letting yourself lay there for a few minutes you decided it was probably best to get home before it got too dark out. Struggling to stand you winced seeing just how bad your injuries were. The blood from your head wound ran down your arm and chest. The blood from your side injury was dripping down your left leg.

“Fuck.” You whispered trying to find your towel. You thanked whatever lucky stars had your back when you found it. Quickly you pressed to the back of your head praying you had enough stamina to make it back to the chateau you shared with your older brother.

You made an audible groan when you realized just how pissed John B was going to be with you. He always hated that you went out alone. This injury certainly wasn’t going to help your case. He’d certainly not let you out of his sight for the next few months too. Great.

You thanked your previously lazy self for picking the beach closest to your home. A short walk home you knew you could make it. You took short quick steps preferring not to place much weight on your left side. The open wound was really making it a bitch to get back home.

It took your four times longer than normal and five breaks too many, but you finally made it home. Crawling up the stairs you scooted yourself through the front door. You’d never been so thankful to see the dirty hardwood of the chateau.

Who would’ve known practically drowning in the ocean would have taken so much of your energy? Finding any remaining strength, you slapped a big bandage on your side hoping it’d work. Your vision was getting too hazy for you to keep standing. Finding the closest piece of furniture, you mustered whatever you had left, making your way towards it.

You laid yourself down slowly on the couch taking shallow breaths. Drawing anything deeper drew a rather sharp pain from your side that you’d like to avoid. Glancing down you cringed at the haphazardly applied wrap on your side. You sighed but were thankful you didn’t see any blood leaking from the bandage.

Glancing at the clock on the wall you cursed yourself for being out so late on the water. The kegger had already been raging on by the time you laid down on the couch. It was a blessing you were able to drag yourself home. You really needed to remember to bring your phone with you when you were planning to do something solo. You had a bad habit of leaving it at home when you just wanted to be left alone.

Realistically you knew there was no way you’d be making it to the kegger tonight. It was probably the first one you’d missed in years. They were usually your favorite thing in the world. You’d never dream of missing one. But without having the ability to even stand at the moment you’d have to forgo your first one in a while.

Grasping the remote you clicked the power button. Settling on the channel was previously on. You weren’t really in the mood to watch tv but certainly did not have the energy to get up to try and find your phone. You were sure nobody even noticed your absence anyway. You often found yourself alone at keggers flirting with whatever cute clueless touron caught your eye for the night.

John B and Sarah were all over each other always. Kie seemed to disappear with whatever hippie group rolled around. JJ went to go collect whatever piece of ass he caught for the night and Pope did whatever Pope did. You loved them but the group certainly did their own thing at keggers.

Making yourself comfortable you knew this is where you’d end up sleeping for the night. You prayed that JJ would just go home with a girl tonight. All too often he’d end up passed out in your bed cuddling with you in your sleep. Something you usually prayed would happen. But not tonight. His arms wrapping around you would hurt more than it’d help.

Closing your eyes, you just hoped sleep would take over. Either that or the edible you popped in your mouth thirty minutes prior would. You couldn’t have been asleep for long before you heard the screen door creeping opening and shut. Inevitably a pogue was coming back for the night. Glancing back up at the clock you frowned seeing it was only just past midnight. It wouldn’t make sense for anybody to be back so early. The group usually always stayed out until at least two in the morning on kegger nights.

“Y/N?” You heard that all too familiar voice call out your name softly. The overhead lights clicked on earning a soft groan from your sensitive head. Your suspicions of a concussion were likely correct with the way the lights made your head throb. JJ must have heard you as he quickly shut them off before hurrying over to the source of the soft cry. You must have looked pathetic curled up underneath a few blankets failing to get warm after the painful crash.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” JJ crouched down to your eye level. Gently, he pushed your hair away from your face studying your expression intently, way too intently. If you hadn’t felt so dreadful you were sure your face would be as bright as tomato. Unfortunately, you looked as pale as a ghost sending alarm bells through JJ’s head. He’d seen you eight hours ago, and you were completely fine. A far cry from your current state.

You nodded you head into his hand shamelessly craving his touch. JJ’s touch always made you feel better. His hand accidentally grazed over where your head had hit the rock a few hours prior forcing a small wince  to your face.

You just didn’t understand. You’d gone out hundreds, if not thousands of times alone and had been completely fine. Sure, you’ve taken a few tumbles, but you were usually so much more careful. You hadn’t even realized you had gotten so close to the rocky side of the shoreline. You could’ve sworn you were in your usual spot.

“Y/N Routledge.” He frowned scanning your head for anything visible. His frown visibly deepened as he turned your head to the side spotting fresh red cut across the back of your head, “What the fuck happened?” He spoke lowly, a little too harshly for you in your state.

You felt stupid tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, threatening to water over. Why were you getting so emotional suddenly? You’d never dare dreamed of crying in front of JJ yet here you were getting ready to bawl like a baby in front of your best friend. Pogues were tougher than this. You had to be tougher than this.

“Hey, hey, hey.” His tone changed to one of softness as he wiped away a tear that had managed to escape, “It’s okay Y/N. It’s just me. JJ. What happened? Are you okay?” He leaned forward not letting your head escape his grasp. Something was really wrong. You weren’t using your words which never seemed to fail you, until now. You were usually so free and open with your words.

JJ noticed immediately that you were missing from the kegger failing to show up with any pogue. You usually showed up with John B or Kie, yet you never came. He tried to find a girl to distract himself from his thoughts of you. Ironically enough that was his usual routine even if you were there. He usually found a dumb blonde to distract himself from you. He couldn’t stand it after another few hours, so he called it a night hurrying back to the chateau to see if you were there.

He really only panicked hearing your soft cry when he turned the lights on. That wasn’t like you. You were hard as a rock, tough as steel, sharp as a blade. He can’t recall a time he’s seen you cry. Not even when your dad disappeared. At least you didn’t cry in front of him.

You took another shallow breath in wincing from the fresh wound on your side. JJ noticed. Of course, he noticed. He noticed everything about you.  How could he not notice how small you looked. How unlike yourself you must have felt.

Taking another ragged breath, you finally found your words, “I wiped out pretty bad surfing earlier. Hit my head and scratched my side up.” Taking a shallow breath, you continued feeling like you were exerting far too much energy just speaking a few words, “I think I patched my side up okay and I got my head to stop bleeding quickly.”

“Y/N.” He nearly growled pulling off the covers on top of you.

“JJ! It’s cold.” You complained to him, unsure of what he was planning. Whatever it was you would allow him to do. You trusted him with your entire being. You grew up around the boy and grew to fall in love with his every action. Slowly you fell entirely in love with your best friend. You couldn’t pinpoint a day that you really could say that you were really in love with him but now? Oh yeah, you loved him deeply. Far more deeply than a best friend should.

“Shh, you’ll be fine for a moment. I’m just checking your side.” If there was one thing JJ was an absolute pro at it was bandaging injuries. Years of dealing with his father and growing up with injury prone pogues resulted in him being nearly flawless at first aid.

He frowned seeing your red blood soaking through the attempted bandage. He audibly sighed before continuing, “Y/N. Sweetheart. You’re still bleeding. I need to get this stopped and bandaged. Can you follow me to your room? It’ll be easier to clean you up on your bed.”

Did he just call you sweetheart? Was he being a nice new JJ because you looked so bad? If so, you could get used to the terms of endearment from him. It felt normal. Too normal even. Like it just rolled right off his tongue. Like you wanted to hear it every second of every day from him.

Nodding quickly, you attempted to swing your legs out from your sleeping position. What you hadn’t anticipated was how completely zapped of energy you had become in the hour or so you spent on the couch before JJ found you. Any energy you did have was gone and vanished. Setting your feet on the ground you only felt yourself wobbling as you tried to stand.

“Nope, no. Stop Y/N.” JJ frowned placing a gentle hand on your shoulder stopping you from getting up.

“I can do it J.” You groaned frustrated at his overprotectiveness. It was so like him to not even give you a chance to try. You knew it came from a place of love it was just hard sometimes.

“No, Y/N you can’t.” He paused making sure you weren’t planning on anything. It was like you to try and get the best of him. But you listened only sitting back down on the couch. You really must’ve been hurting if you weren’t even trying to mess with him, “I’m carrying you to your room. Come on.” Before you could protest, he picked you up effortlessly. Holding you as if you would shatter right there in his arms if he squeezed too hard.

“Why didn’t you call?” He asked as he set you down on your good side. He patted your pillow telling you to lay down so he could work on cleaning you up properly.

Listening to him, you laid yourself down slowly, “Can’t remember where I left my phone.” You admitted truthfully. He smiled softly at that comment. That was very much like you. You seemed to lose your phone on almost a daily basis. You weren’t attached at the hip with it like many of your friends and classmates. Often going days in between checking it making sure to let whoever was trying to reach you that you were okay, just busy with life.

He made a face as he removed the haphazardly placed wrap you had managed to get on, “Damn Routledge. This one’s bad.”

Your breath caught when you felt the cool air hit the still wound, “I know J. This one hurt.” You sighed while closing your eyes just wishing this would be over.

“Sorry sweetheart.” There it was again. A cute pet name that made your heart race just a little faster, “This is going to hurt. A lot. But I’ve gotta make sure it’s clean alright?”

You nodded keeping your eyes closed.

“You can squeeze my hand.” JJ hovered his left hand over your grip. Feeling his hand there you gripped his hand softly in yours. Beyond thankful you had JJ as your best friend you gave his hand a gentle squeeze letting him know you were good. That you were ready.

You sucked in a sharp breath as the hydrogen peroxide-soaked cloth contacted your wound. The feeling was about ten thousand times worse than you could’ve imagined. Squeezing JJ’s hand tightly you bit your lip attempting to stop the instant tears that formed under your closed lids. It was a failed attempt as the tears escaped down your cheeks eliciting soft sobs from your throat.

JJ paused placing a hand on your head, “I know baby, I’m so sorry. It’ll be over soon I promise, okay? Can you look at me Y/N? Please?”

Slowly opening your eyes, you looked up to your best friend who gave you a look you’ve never seen before on his face, deep concern. You must’ve been in worse shape than you thought. JJ didn’t let his guard down often and here he was showing you his every thought written right across his face.

He smiled softly seeing your bright eyes even though they were stained by the tears. You sure were pretty. Beautiful even. Even through the tears you were one of the prettiest girls JJ has laid his eyes upon, “There she is.” Gently, he took his thumb cleaning up the tear trails running down your face.

“I’m sorry JJ.” You whispered in an utterly defeated tone. You felt beat the hell down by life at the moment. More than thankful for the best friend who cared to do this for you though, life did give you one perfect thing.

“Shhh.” He shook his head placing a finger on your lips, “I’d do this for you a thousand times over just like you’d do the same. Got it? No more apologies.”

You nodded in his hand for the second time that night feeling an immense comfort with the pressure he was applying to it, “Okay JJ.”

“That’s my girl.” He kissed your forehead focusing back on the task at hand, “I’m so sorry sweetheart, this is going to hurt.”

Again, you failed to stop the waterworks that sprung from your eyes. You were normally so strong and composed. But you’d never gone through anything quite this painful before. You gave yourself a pass for letting yourself really feel it.

JJ whispered his sweet nothings that seemed to come out of nowhere. Not that you were complaining. You were finding a little too much comfort in his sweet terms of endearment. You were able to get through it by focusing on his words instead of the pain from the peroxide.

“And we’re done.” JJ nodded seeing his handiwork, “How are you feeling?” He crouched down again so you wouldn’t have to look up. Softly, he placed his hand on the side of your head.

“Better.” You hummed thankful that the dull ache was back and not the active stinging from just moments ago.

He gave you a curious look, almost as if he didn’t believe you, “Here.” He handed you a few pills and some gummies.

“Some pills to help with the pain and natures cure.”

Smiling at him you really should’ve expected it from him, “I’ve already had a gummy tonight.”

You tried to refuse him, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, “What’s a few more? Let yourself sleep. Your body heal. I’ll be here in the morning.” He kissed your cheek making you take the gummies and pills from him.

“Okay J.” You popped them in your mouth without hesitation hoping the edibles would knock you right on out. You set the pills down on the nightstand.

“I’ll see you in the morning. Call if you need anything okay?” He went to go turn off the light before you called out stopping him.

“Wait J!” He paused turning to look at you snuggled underneath the covers.

“Yeah?”

“Can you sleep with me please?”

Grinning he flicked the light off hopping in right next to you, “I thought you’d never ask.”

You giggled scooting yourself close to him feeling comforted by the smell of his familiar cologne. You’d definitely have to address the terms of endearment later. Not having any sort of energy in you to bring that up right now. Quickly, you drifted off into a dreamless sleep with JJ right at your side.

You woke to the voices of you brother and best friend throwing shouted whispers at each other. You knew they were trying, and failing, to keep from waking you up. It wasn’t their fault you were such a light sleeper though. It was a miracle JJ was able to sneak out without you waking up. You only had to giggle at their attempts to be quiet. You sure did love them.

“What happened JJ?”

“She said it was a surfboarding accident. It’s not good John B. I haven’t seen her like that before. Ever.” JJ was emphasizing every word.

You rolled your eyes at JJ’s dramatics. You don’t think you were really in that bad of shape. The dull ache from your side reared its ugly head reminding you just how painful that crash really was. Sure, you cried, a lot, but who wouldn’t of? It felt like the hydrogen peroxide was stabbing you over and over again.

You heard the boys pause. John B must have been thinking, “What do you mean?” He questioned his best friend.

“Crying. Lots of crying. It was terrifying John B,” JJ admitted recollecting his thoughts. Seeing you in that state really tore him up. He cared for you deeply. Way more deeply than even he wanted to admit to himself. Seeing you that hurt made him realize maybe he did care for you in a different way. Way more than a friendly way. JJ’s heart actually might have shattered when he found you crying. He decided right then and there that you were his girl. He vowed to never see you like that ever again.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her shed a tear man.” JJ continued. You heard a can crack open. Hoping it was a can of soda and not an early morning beer. Often you would lecture them for the bad habit. They returned by flipping you off and telling you to shut it. It shouldn’t have surprised you though that they both ignored you.

You heard your brother audibly sigh, “Well, what do we do?” He questioned JJ, unsure of what his next steps really were. He truly was at a loss. Your father usually took care of this kind of stuff, not John B. He needed help and he needed it fast. For your sake anyway. You just knew he was probably pacing the kitchen. A nervous habit he had picked up from your father growing up. Big John always paced the house when something wasn’t going right. It drove you absolutely mad wishing he could just relax. But that was something Big John never did.

You were right. John B was pacing the narrow kitchen not knowing what the hell to do next. Watching JJ, he kept his eyes trained on him hoping he’d have a better answer than he did, “I don’t know! Let her rest and shit. Don’t bother her.” JJ threw his hands up in the air feeling himself panic at not knowing what to really do.

He thought about taking you to the hospital last night, but he couldn’t figure out a way to get you there safely. Instead, he stayed up the entire night making sure you were fine. That you were still breathing. JJ knew he was being dramatic about the whole thing, but this was you. Y/N. His Y/N. He was pretty sure the worst he’s seen you prior to last night was after some stupid fight with some kook boys leaving you with a black eye and a busted lip. You were proud of yourself and smiling the entire night. Proud that you were able to knock the taller boy down. You never dreamed of shedding a tear.

John B paused again. The sudden realization of JJ liking you hitting him like a freight train.  He’d had his suspicions before, but this nearly confirmed it for him. John B knew he had to play it off cool. He actually kind of liked the thought of the two of you dating. Big John always said the pair of you would end up together anyway. He got used to the thought over time.

 “Oh, you’re down bad for my sister! Real bad.” John B smirked raising his eyebrows as if to challenge JJ.

“Shh JB! She can totally hear us right now.” JJ tried shutting his best friend up throwing him a nasty glare only earning a louder laugh from the brown-haired boy.

“Shit, you didn’t deny it this time JJ.” John B’s laughs died down as JJ gave him a serious look. Did JJ Maybank actually have real feelings for you? John B had always teased JJ about you, but he always made sure to deny it. He didn’t this time.

“Just let her rest, okay? Don’t be too hard on her? It was an accident. You can be hard on her when she’s feeling better.”

John B’s suspicions were confirmed as JJ redirected the conversation right on back to you. He really did like you. John B leaned back into the counter giving JJ a smug look like he figured him out, “Yeah, yeah lover boy.”

Rolling his eyes JJ flipped him off ready to go and check in on you. He promised he’d be there when you woke, and he didn’t want to break that promise already. You heard the soft footsteps of JJ coming your way. Quickly closing your eyes, you tried your best to pretend to be asleep.

Evening out your breaths you heard your bedroom door open and shut. Curiously though you didn’t hear JJ move. Was he just standing there?

JJ stopped after he saw your pretty face outlined by the orange morning light coming through your bedroom window. He felt his pulse speed up as he reveled in the way you looked in your sleep. Way too pretty for your own good.

JJ knew he liked you he just didn’t realize how much he really did. The thought of losing you made his heart ache. Your accident may have just started something in his head he knew he had to admit to you. He loved you. Loved you dearly. He was in love with you.

As quietly as he could he slid back into bed. You knew it was your only chance, so you pretended to wake up. Stretching your arms and all.

“Good morning beautiful.” JJ grinned seeing your eyes open up.

So, he wasn’t going to stop? He was just going to keep calling you sweet things as if it was nothing? He was trying to kill you, you were convinced anyway, “Morning J.” You yawned still feeling a bit tired from everything.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.”

His expression was one of disbelief, “You don’t have to lie to me Y/N.”

“Well, I am okay. It still hurts. But I’m okay.”

“You know I love you right?”

“What?” You nearly gasped taken aback by the change of conversation out of nowhere.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, are you okay?” You returned his question this time.

“No,” He groaned a little frustrated by his lack of being able to form a sentence. To fully be able to explain what he means, “I’m in love with you Y/N.”

“You… what?” Your eyes scanned every inch of his face trying to understand what the hell was going on.

“I’m in love with you and I have been for a while. Last night just made me realize how stupid of me it is to not tell you. I love you.”

“Oh, wow. Did I hit my head that hard?” Surly you were dreaming right? How many times have you dreamed of those words coming out of his mouth. And he said it so casually. Like it was nothing. Like you weren’t dying to hear those words.

He laughed. A full belly laugh. Just one reason as to why he loved you so deeply, “Maybe.” He bopped your nose with his finger, careful not to touch your body. Too scared he’d hurt you, “Doesn’t change that I love you. That I’m in love with you Y/N Routledge.”

“Really?” You asked in disbelief.

“Really, really.”

“Wow.” You grinned, “That’s good.”

“Yeah?” He smiled seeing you look him over intently.

You nodded smiling to him, “Very good.”

“Why’s that Y/N?” He wanted to hear it from you too. Just a confirmation of what he felt also.

“I love you too JJ. I’m in love with you.”