#Outerbanks x you

[cameronsbabydoll]

We always get angst with ex husband! Rafe, how about somewhat of a cute(ish) moment. Like dropping your son off at kindergarten for the first time and you’re all sad and he consoles you

dropping off your son for kindergarten with ex!husband!rafe + a bonus part !!!!!

wc: 624 — a/n: i added a little bonus cause it was too hard to resist

you hated this.

you knew it was coming. you had circled the date on the calendar. you had bought the little backpack with his favorite dinosaur on it. you had labeled every damn snack and packed every little change of clothes.

but walking back to the parking lot after dropping your son off at kindergarten for the first time?

yeah. you hated this.

you didn’t even realize rafe was walking next to you until he bumped his shoulder into yours.

“gonna cry or you good?” he asked, that familiar rasp cutting through the lump in your throat.

you glared at him, sniffling. “shut up.”

but it didn’t have any bite. not when your chest was tight like this. not when that tiny classroom door had closed behind the little boy who used to need you for everything.

and rafe — who was usually all sharp grin and cocky remarks — just let you feel it.

didn’t rush you.

didn’t tease you (much).

he just walked next to you in his stupidly expensive hoodie and joggers like some casually hot, accidentally perfect ex-husband.

and when you reached your car, you paused — arms folded, staring at nothing — and he leaned back against the door of his truck, watching you.

“he’s gonna be fine,” rafe said finally. not dismissive. not patronizing. just simple. certain. “he’s a cameron. he’s yours. the kid’s bulletproof.”

you huffed a shaky laugh. “he’s five.”

“yeah,” rafe said, mouth tugging into that little half-smile. “and already smarter than half the guys you date.”

you gave him a look.

“not the time, rafe.”

he held up his hands in mock surrender, but his voice dropped a little softer when he added—

“for real, though. you did good, sweetheart.”

it was stupid how much that hit. how much it mattered coming from him.

and before you could get too emotional (or worse — cry in the damn parking lot) rafe knocked his knuckles gently against your chin.

“c’mon,” he murmured. “you want coffee or somethin’? my treat. call it…ex-husband solidarity.”

you rolled your eyes.

but you didn’t say no.

— bonus part!

you barely made it through the kindergarten pick-up line before rafe was texting you.

rafe: knew it.

rafe: my boy already a teacher’s favorite

you sighed, already bracing yourself.

sure enough — by the time you pulled up to his place for drop-off, he was already outside, leaning cockily against his range rover like this was some big victory.

“see this?” he held up the little note your son’s teacher sent home like it was a damn mvp trophy. “‘polite, helpful, very social.’ i told you. our kid is built different.”

you deadpan him. “did you read the back?”

his grin faltered just barely. flip. oh, there it was:

‘very chatty! we’ll work on using quiet voices during story time :)’

rafe squinted like maybe if he stared hard enough it wouldn’t say that.

“‘chatty’ just means charismatic,” he argued, unbothered. “that’s cameron blood.”

you gave him the look.

“rafe — he told the teacher your job was ‘being rich’ and that my job was ‘finding snacks.’”

rafe absolutely beamed.

“smart kid.”

“rafe.”

“what? accurate.”

but then — and this was the part that always tripped you up — his expression softened just enough. that proud glint never left his blue eyes, but it settled warmer.

“he’s good, y’know,” rafe said quieter, like it mattered to him that you heard it. “he’s happy. means we didn’t screw him up too bad.”

and as much as you wanted to roll your eyes or argue or tell him he was impossible —

that was the thing about rafe cameron.

nobody bragged harder about their kid.

and nobody — nobody — made you feel like more of a team when it came to him.

even if he was your annoying, smug, ex-husband.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Actors on Actors || Drew Starkey x actress!reader

Summary: Actress!reader and Drew partaking in Variety's Actors on Actors!!

Warnings: not proofread sozz

Word count: 3,057 loooong one

A/n: damn I felt like I was in the interview room for this one

MASTERLIST

Drew couldn’t keep his eyes off you as the crew flitted around, prepping for the Actors on Actors interview with Variety. You were standing just a few feet away, laughing lightly at something one of the staff members had said, your head tilted back, eyes sparkling. To him, you looked utterly breathtaking—ethereal, even. Everyone knew Drew Starkey had the biggest crush on you.

He was never subtle about it, often caught in candid interviews or behind-the-scenes clips praising you, his admiration so obvious it became a running joke among his friends and colleagues. But right now, as he adjusted his mic and watched you from the corner of his eye, he wished he hadn’t been so vocal about it. His nerves were getting the best of him.

What if he said something dumb? What if you already thought he was just some lovesick fool? He swallowed hard, trying to calm the fluttering in his chest as you walked toward the set, your heels clicking softly against the floor. “Drew Starkey,” you greeted warmly, a radiant smile lighting up your features as you settled into the armchair opposite him.

You sat first, crossing your legs effortlessly, the picture of poise. “Y/n,” Drew smiled back, leaning forward slightly to kiss both of your cheeks. The casual intimacy of the gesture sent his pulse racing, but he played it cool as you let out a soft laugh, your perfume lingering faintly in the air.

“How’s it going?” he asked, his tone steady, though there was a barely perceptible edge to it—a nervous undertone that betrayed just how much this moment meant to him. His gaze lingered on yours, longer than what might be considered polite, but you didn’t seem to mind. “I’m good, and—” You paused mid-sentence as Drew suddenly leaned forward, his brows knitting together.

“Sorry—hold on,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, softer, as his fingers reached toward the hem of your dress. “You’ve got a little something.” Before you could respond, he gently plucked a stray piece of lint from the fabric, his fingertips brushing ever so lightly against the material.

The touch was fleeting, almost inconsequential, but it sent a quiet thrill up your spine, one you quickly masked with a polite chuckle. “Oh—thanks,” you said, your voice airy as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re welcome,” Drew replied, his lips curving into a shy grin, his usual confidence momentarily replaced by something more boyish and endearing.

For a moment, you could swear his ears turned a little pink. You leaned back, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you studied him. Of course you knew Drew Starkey had a crush on you. It wasn’t exactly a secret.

But there was something undeniably flattering about it—something that made you feel just a bit lighter, a bit more self-assured. However, you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a crush on him. It was Drew Starkey after all.

Your eyes met again, and the silence between you stretched into something that felt almost electric. Both of you wore soft, bashful smiles, the moment teetering between unspoken words and playful tension. Finally, you broke into a small laugh, breaking the spell, and Drew looked away, scratching the back of his neck, his own smile lingering despite himself.

“You know,” you began, shifting slightly in your seat, “it’s kind of funny. We’ve both been at so many of the same events, but we’ve never actually talked until now.” Drew chuckled, his posture relaxing just a little. “I know, right? It’s crazy. First time was… the Glass Onion premiere, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, humming in agreement. “Yeah, I was there supporting Madelyn," Drew spoke. "Ugh, I miss Maddie," You give a small pout as Drew chuckles. “And then Immaculate, I remember standing right behind you in the photo line.” You laughed, your cheeks warming at the memory.

“Oh my god, yes! And somehow, we still didn’t even say hi.” “And then the Queer premiere a couple weeks ago,” Drew said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Right,” you said, leaning forward slightly as your laughter softened into a chuckle. “It’s wild how we’ve been orbiting around each other this whole time.”

“Crazy, huh?” Drew murmured, his voice lower now, his eyes soft as they lingered on you. The way he looked at you was different—not just admiration, but genuine warmth, curiosity, and something else you couldn’t quite place. “How’s everything been?” Drew asks, leaning back in his chair, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity, as if he genuinely wants to know every detail.

“It’s good,” you reply with a soft smile, shifting slightly in your seat. “I’m here in LA, which is nice—” Before you can finish, he interjects, his brow arching in curiosity. “You’re from New England, right?” You click your tongue playfully, tilting your head at him. “I see someone’s done their research, Mr. Starkey,” you tease, flashing him a playful wink.

Drew’s grin widens, and he throws his head back in laughter, the sound rich and easy, like he’s completely at ease for the first time since the cameras started rolling. “I had to, didn’t I? You’re not exactly an open book. I had to dig deep.” “Oh, is that so?” you challenge, your voice lilting with mock skepticism.

“Well, since you’re so curious, tell me—what do you know about New England?” you challenge, leaning forward slightly. He grins, but it’s a little sheepish. “Not much, if I’m honest. You’ll have to fill in the blanks for me. What’s it like there?” Your eyes widen in exaggerated disbelief, your hand fluttering to your chest like you’ve been insulted.

“Wait—you’ve never been? My goodness, Drew! Come with me, and I’ll show you around properly,” you say, your tone teasing but full of warmth. His smile softens, and he leans in just a little. “I’d like that very much,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that makes your breath hitch for a fraction of a second. “Well then,” you reply with a chuckle, regaining your composure.

“I think we can organise something. You’re from North Carolina, yeah?” Drew hums in confirmation, his grin widening. “Born and raised. But I gotta admit, New England sounds pretty tempting now.” “It should,” you quip, pointing at him playfully. Then, after a beat, you lean in slightly, an amused gleam in your eye.

“Can I just say—and I’m sure you get this a lot—I’m a huge fan of Outer Banks.” Drew raises an eyebrow, his grin turning slightly bashful as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re team Pogue,” he jokes, but his eyes are fixed on you with a playful sparkle.

You snort softly, clasping your hands together in your lap. “Not quite. But I’ve gotta say, you play Rafe so convincingly. How do you approach a character like Rafe? I mean, you’re, you know… the complete opposite of him.” You chuckle, your words carrying a mix of admiration and disbelief.

Drew leans back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before clearing his throat. “Well, Rafe is a challenge, to say the least. He’s not your typical villain. It’s easy to hate him on the surface, but if you dig deeper, he’s this broken guy with so many vulnerabilities. That’s where I try to focus—on making him human. I want people to see why he makes those awful decisions, even if they don’t agree with them. It’s all about balance.”

You nod, your expression softening as you listen. “That’s fascinating,” you say earnestly. “It’s definitely what makes him such a compelling character.” Drew smiles, but you notice something different about his gaze. He isn’t just answering your question—he’s watching you, his eyes holding a softness that makes your heart skip a beat.

Before the moment can linger too long, Drew shifts the focus back to you. “And your character in Ghosted,” he says, his voice warm and curious. “It’s so different from anything you’ve done before. How did you prepare for that role?” You smile at the question, grateful for his genuine interest.

“It was a lot of emotional work,” you admit, leaning back slightly. “She’s so different from me in so many ways. I spent a lot of time understanding her motivations, her fears, and what drives her. It’s a very internal role, so the process was… draining, to say the least. But also rewarding.” Drew’s lips curve into a soft smile as he leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Sounds intense,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I’ve always wondered in the film how you guys manage to keep it together when the emotions run that deep.” You shrug lightly, a thoughtful smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not easy, but that’s the beauty of the craft, isn’t it? Tapping into those emotions and channelling them into something real.”

Drew nods, his expression softening even further. There’s something unspoken in his gaze—something that lingers longer than words can express. “Yeah,” he says finally, his voice dropping just a fraction. “I get that. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re incredible. I’ve seen your work—it’s inspiring.” His words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity, and you can’t help the rush of warmth that floods your chest.

A small, genuine smile spreads across your face. “I could say the same for you,” you reply softly, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, it’s like the rest of the room fades away, leaving just the two of you, sharing something unspoken yet deeply understood. Drew shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity evident. “So, let’s talk about Saltburn. You played Venetia Catton. How did you even begin to prepare for a role like that?"

You smile, the mention of Saltburn immediately bringing back memories. “Honestly, Venetia was one of the most challenging but rewarding roles I’ve ever taken on. Emerald Fennell has such a sharp, specific vision as a director, and she brought so much depth to every single character. Venetia wasn’t just the surface-level socialite that she might appear to be at first glance. She’s deeply entrenched in this world of privilege, but there’s a kind of desperation underneath it all—this need to hold it all together, to maintain this facade of control.”

Drew nods, his expression thoughtful. “I feel like Emerald has this incredible knack for creating characters who feel both larger than life and painfully real. What was it like working with her?” “Incredible,” you answer without hesitation. “Emerald is so collaborative and detail-oriented, but she also gives you the freedom to bring your own interpretation to the role. She’s this powerhouse of creativity, and you always feel like you’re in safe hands with her. She’s also hilarious—like, incredibly funny—so even on the more intense days, there was always this underlying sense of ease on set.”

Drew smiles at that, clearly invested. “And then there’s the cast. I mean, Rosamund Pike, Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordi—they’re all such giving actors. What was it like working alongside them?” You exhale softly, recalling the dynamic energy of the cast. “It was surreal, honestly. Rosamund Pike is… well, she’s Rosamund Pike. She’s this commanding presence on set, but she’s also so warm and generous as a scene partner. Barry, on the other hand, is just a chameleon. He’s fearless in the way he approaches his craft, and watching him work was like taking a masterclass every day.”

“And Jacob?” Drew asks, his tone light but curious. “He’s been everywhere lately.” “Jacob’s amazing,” you reply with a smile. “He’s so grounded, which is kind of funny considering the larger-than-life characters he’s been playing lately. But on set, he’s just this really laid-back, thoughtful guy. We had a lot of fun with our scenes together—he brings this kind of effortless charisma that makes everything feel natural.”

Drew leans back in his chair, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a stacked team. No pressure at all, right?” You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no pressure whatsoever. Just casually working with some of the most talented people in the industry.” “Well, you pulled it off,” Drew says sincerely. “Venetia felt so fully realised—like, even in her silences, there was so much going on beneath the surface. It was fascinating to watch.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, his compliment catching you off guard. There’s an earnestness in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. “So,” you say, shifting into the next topic, “you’ve played a lot of interesting characters—Rafe Cameron, of course, but also roles like Zach in The Other Zoey and the projects you’ve got coming up. Do you feel like people expect you to stick to certain kinds of roles because of how iconic Rafe has become?”

Drew’s smile fades just a little, his expression turning thoughtful. He seems to appreciate the question, his blue eyes searching yours for a moment before he answers. “Yeah, there’s definitely that expectation sometimes,” he admits. “Rafe is such a big character, and I think when people see you in one role, they assume that’s all you can do. But as actors, we want to stretch ourselves, you know? Surprise people.”

He pauses, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s kind of like you, actually,” he adds softly. “You’ve done dramas, you’ve done comedies… you’ve proven that you’re not just one thing. I think that’s what makes people really root for you—you're versatile. You don’t let them put you in a box.” The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you can feel heat rise to your cheeks again. You shift slightly in your seat, trying not to let his words completely throw you off balance.

“That’s… really nice of you to say,” you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think that’s the beauty of what we do, right? Showing people different sides of ourselves, through the characters we play.” Drew nods, his eyes softening. “Exactly. You just said it better than I could.” You smile, letting the moment hang between you for just a beat longer than it probably should.

You adjust in your seat, leaning forward slightly as you shift the focus of the interview. “Alright, let’s talk about Queer. You play Eugene, and from everything I’ve heard, it’s such an emotionally rich and complex role. What drew you to it, Drew?" You smile as he laughs. “Honestly, it was the script. You know with it being based on William S. Burroughs’ novel, and the way it explored themes of longing, identity, and self-destruction… it was just so raw. Eugene is such a fascinating character because he’s flawed, but you can’t help but empathise with him. It felt like a challenge I couldn’t pass up.”

You nod, smiling softly. “It sounds like it required you to really dig deep emotionally. Was it intimidating stepping into a story like that?” “Completely,” Drew admits with a laugh. “But it was also the kind of role that forces you to grow as an actor. I had to be vulnerable in a way I hadn’t been before, which was scary but also freeing. And having someone like Luca Guadagnino directing—it felt like a safety net, you know? He creates such a safe, collaborative environment.”

“Luca’s brilliant,” you agree, your voice filled with admiration. “And then there’s Daniel Craig. What was your experience working with him? I mean- I remember working with him on Glass Onion and being blow away by how meticulous he is." Drew grins, a flicker of boyish excitement crossing his face. “Oh, he’s incredible. Daniel is one of those actors who’s just so present in every scene. He has this intensity, but he’s also really generous as a scene partner. He listens, reacts—he makes you feel like what you’re doing really matters.”

You smile, nodding your head, "He's also got such a great sense of humour!" Drew laughs, nodding. “Exactly! Like, he can go from delivering this super heavy, emotional scene to cracking a joke that has the entire crew in stitches. It’s such a unique balance, and it keeps the energy on set really light, even during the intense moments.”

“Do you have a favourite memory with him from filming?” you ask, genuinely curious. “There’s this one scene we did that was really emotionally charged—like, full-on tears and everything,” Drew begins, his smile softening. “After we wrapped the take, I was still kind of in that headspace, and Daniel just clapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Well, that was bloody exhausting, wasn’t it?’ It snapped me out of it, and we both just started laughing. It was one of those moments where you realise, ‘Okay, this is heavy, but it’s also what we love to do.’”

You laugh at the image of Daniel’s bluntness, shaking your head. “That’s so him. He has a way of grounding you, doesn’t he?” “Completely,” Drew agrees. “And honestly, having him on set made me feel like I had to step up my game. He’s such a pro, and you can’t help but want to match that level of commitment.”

You tilt your head, studying him for a moment. “It sounds like Queer really pushed you as an actor, in the best way.” “It did,” Drew says earnestly. “And, you know, hearing you talk about working with Daniel—what was it like for you? I mean, I imagine Glass Onion had a very different vibe, but I’m sure he brought that same energy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you reply. “Daniel has this way of making everyone feel like they’re part of something special. And with Glass Onion, there was this playful energy because the story is so twisty and fun, but Daniel was always so focused and intentional with every scene.” Drew leans in slightly, clearly fascinated. “Did you ever have one of those moments with him where you just stopped and thought, ‘Wow, I’m working with James Bond’?”

You laugh, nodding. “More than once! It’s impossible not to. But then you get to know him, and he’s just… Daniel. Down-to-earth, funny, and incredibly kind. It makes you forget about the whole ‘James Bond’ thing—at least for a little while.” Drew grins. “That’s good to know. I feel like we’ve both been lucky to work with him, even if I’m still a little starstruck.”

“That’s what Daniel Craig does to you, ladies and gentlemen,” you teased, your laughter light as you pointed at the camera, winking playfully. Drew’s amused chuckle followed, a soft sound that matched the warmth in your tone. The atmosphere of the interview had shifted, the playful banter between the two of you creating an easy camaraderie as the conversation drew to a close.

“Well, I think we’ve discovered we have a lot in common after all,” Drew said, his smile widening as he turned toward you. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and genuine appreciation. “This has been a great pairing, truly.”

Your smile softened as you met his gaze, the connection between the two of you almost palpable. “I think so too,” you responded, your voice light and sincere, a soft chuckle escaping you as your gaze lingered on him. “Very great pairing,” you added, your words more than just agreement—there was an unspoken understanding, a mutual respect that hung in the air.

Drew’s smile widened slightly at your reply, the chemistry between the two of you becoming more evident as the final moments of the interview came into focus. Despite the cameras and the public personas, there was something undeniably real in the exchange, something that hinted at more than just a professional connection.

[lilreidgirl]

Tiktoks Rafe would post (about you)

Credits go to the owners of the photos and videos!!

Summary: Basically just 3 tiktoks that I believe Rafey would post about his girlfriend, you (your username/name is 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦💗)

Warnings: implied talk about dick size lol?? so because of that MDNI(18+), I tried to keep the guys in the video as blonde as possible but you just have to imagine it`s him

A/N: Trying something new, sorry that it`s super short, just wanted to dabble a bit :) P.S. I know I said I wasn`t going to post but I gave up on studying and got bored so... yay?

••

Rafe

Rounded down ofc #fyp #ifykyk #viral

♫ original sound - Future x Double O Ferrari Truck

Comments

⚫️JJ: Yh, 7mm💀

Creator

→ ⚫️Rafe: inches.

⚫️𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦💗: Rafe, seriously?? Take this down.

———

Rafe

Being forced to post this

♫ Contains: Chest Pain (I Love)

Comments

⚫️𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦💗: Love you🫶🏻🫶🏻

Creator

→ ⚫️Rafe: Ly 2

⚫️Pope: Honestly, couple goals

→ ⚫️JJ: HUH?!?!???!!!

———

••

Rafe

@𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦💗 #fyp #viral

♫ Cry Baby (sped up) - The Neighbour…

Comments

⚫️𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦💗: AWWW youre the best<33

——————————————————❤️ liked by creator

⚫️JJ: Rafe going soft for his girl was not on my 2024 bingo card

Creator

→ ⚫️Rafe: shut up, pouge

@emma-e-a

[rafestyles]

celeb crush | drew starkey smau

part nine (づ￣ ³￣)づ

masterlist

08 | 09 | 10

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　　:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

a/n: this one was so much fun to make. especially the phone call!!! these two are so special to me!!!!! don't forget to please reblog, like, comment. it helps me a ton <3 love u guys!!!!!

taglist: @aariahnaa / @rafegf-real / @frankoceanluvr11 / @percysley / @rafesdrew / @simpfomarvel / @sovuckie / @wh0re4drewstarkey

[greengoblinswifey]

Rafe takes February very seriously.

Bright and early February 1st, you woke to an excited kiss on your forehead and the aroma of fresh coffee. “Baby, get up,” he whispered, “I’ve got a surprise.”

Within a few hours, you found yourselves standing before the Museum of Black History, a venue he’d specially rented for the two of you. The building was filled with the voices of past generations and you looked forward to knowing more than you already did.

The air in the museum hummed quietly as you entered a hall dedicated to Caribbean heritage. A knowledgeable museum guide led a small group through an exhibit featuring artifacts and narratives of Marcus Garvey’s legacy.

“As you see here,” she explained, gesturing toward a display of photographs and letters, “Marcus Garvey’s vision was not merely political but cultural. His words, ‘Up, you mighty race,’ still resonate today, urging empowerment and pride in our shared history.”

Rafe leaned in, eyes filled with enthusiasm. “And he once said, ‘A people without the knowledge of their past is like a tree without roots,’” he recited, quoting from memory.

You smiled, looking a bit taken aback but nudging him playfully. “Oh, you’ve been doing your homework,” you teased, impressed by his recollection and passion.

Rafe scoffed, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Obviously. You think I’m half assing Black History Month? Not when I’ve got the prettiest black girl in the world to impress.”

You rolled your eyes, but butterflies spread through you. He was always like this, intentional, thoughtful, making sure you never settled for less.

Later, when you got caught up in an exhibit, Rafe slipped away. He ducked into a quiet corner, phone in hand, making the reservations he had been planning for weeks.

A five-star restaurant in another state.

A luxury resort suite with a view.

Gifts already in his cart, waiting to be purchased.

February wasn’t just another month to him. It was your month. And Valentine’s Day? He was making sure it was your best one yet.

By the time he found you again, he was back at your side like he never left, sliding a hand into yours and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I love you, y’know,” he murmured, eyes soft.

“I know, I love you too,” you smiled, leaning into him.

And you did—because every February, Rafe Cameron proved it.

[rafeyscumangel]

I have a blurb/one-shot/fic request, if that's okay, kie!

bsf!jj has been waiting all his life for reader to make a move on him and then she does (and the rest is up to you!)

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ Beach fun !

a/n: now tell me why i wrote this while i was supposed to be in the shower because the sound of the water somehow gave me motivation to write ? I apologize, this is a bit self indulgent because i love going to beaches while it’s raining.. I felt so at peace while writing this, i miss this weather smm 💔 I wanna do another part to this… perhaps a lil smutty

You giggled as you waddled your way into the water. The air around you breezy due to threat of rain. Although even with that threat, it did little to dwindle your adamance at going to the beach. You sure as hell weren’t gonna let a bit of rain ruin your plans for the day, and sure as hell not after you bothered driving five hours to the beach.

“It’s beautiful out!” You said excitedly as you twirled in the water, hair flowing in the breeze. A matching, excited giggle escaping your lips.

JJ wasn’t far behind you, trudging over to you in the water. Smirk plastered on his face as he watched your excited movements. Seeing you happy always made butterflies flutter around in his stomach. Even if the two of you wasted a cruel five hours to come to this particular beach instead of the one that’s just a five minute walk from your home.

“You find this beautiful?” JJ asked, cocking a brow as he made his way to you. Smile on his lips as he admired your form in front of him. Watching the way you ran your hands in the water back and forth happily.

JJ loved to watch you. Not in a creepy way, he just loved watching you while you were happy. Seeing your smile and the way your eyes lit up whenever you were doing something you loved was one of his favourite things. You were a joy to be around.

JJ would be lying if he said he’s never thought about the two of you before- because he did. He thought about a lot and for a long time- having known you since you were kids.

So, if there was one thing JJ would have to say he disliked about you, it would be how you make unsure. How you make him double think before acting out on what he wants. The way you made him hesitate. He doesn’t say it often, but he cherishes the friendship you and him have. He would never want to do anything to ruin it. So he’s been waiting for years for you to make a move.

It’s a bit childish, really, how he would lay in bed and daydream and calculate the signs of the possibility of you liking him back. The day you would finally tell him that you liked him too- he’d be damned to hell if he were to make a move and ruin the friendship between you two.

He truly, truly hated how you made him go from a confident ladies man to a daydreaming coward who was hopelessly in love with his best friend.

“JJ!” You called out, again. Eyeing him curiously as he stood there a couple feet away from you, just staring. “The hell you doing?” You giggled to yourself, cocking your head slightly as you watched him.

“Hm-? Oh? Me? Nothin’ princess, just got thinking.” He said, snapping out of his thoughts and continuing to trail forward towards you.

Just as you were about to speak, the soft drops of water from above caught your attention. Rain.

You giggled again, looking up as the rain continued to gently start. “God! I love swimming with the rain! Isn’t it beautiful? It’s so peaceful too.” You hummed while twirling in the water. Loving the feel of the rain droplets on your skin.

JJ just chuckled at your excitement, nodding his head as he followed you. Looking around and watching the way the water moved with the droplets of rain. “Yep.” JJ said.

He couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t peaceful, because it truly was. The sound of the rain hitting the water, the water being at the perfect temperature, the sound of your giggles, your presence and the stillness of the beach asides from the two of you was comforting. “Is pretty peaceful..” He hummed.

You laughed, wiping drops of rain out of your face as you threw your slowly growing wet hair behind your shoulders. “It is. Especially with just the two of us.” You said, before something hit your foot. A rock.

You held back a growing, mischievous grin as you glanced down into the water before looking back up. “Let’s go deeper.” You said, hollering as the sound of the rain against the water grew louder as the intensity of the rain grew.

“You sure? There’s more rocks the further out-“ But before he could finish speaking, you were moving and then quickly screeching, ‘tripping’ over a rock in the water and falling backwards, your body disappearing under the water.

“Shit-“ JJ said, trudging through the water quickly as he internally panicked, trying to reach you. What if you hit your head?

It didn’t take long for him to feel your leg brush against his- and he immediately reached into the water, finding your shoulders and dragging you up from under the water.

“Y/N you good? didn’t hit your head?” JJ asked, attempting to hide his worry as he examined your head as you coughed and pushed your hair away from over your eyes.

Then, instead of replying, you grinned and brought your hand up to cup his cheek, moving his head towards you and placing your lips to his before he could utter anything else.

JJ’s eye’s widened at the contact of your lips against his. Was this real? Did you really just finally make a move?

Well he sure as hell wasn’t gonna let a situation like this pass by.

He kissed back, cupping your chin in between his fingers as he continued to pull you back up to your feet.

You smiled into the kiss when he kissed back, all your mind thinking about is how you should’ve made this move sooner. Wrapping your arms around his neck as he helped you balance back onto your feet.

When you pulled back, you couldn’t help the giddy smile and giggle that escaped your lips. Smiling as you looked up at whom- you’re going to assume- is now your boyfriend. Your cheeks flushing at the pure look of awe that was on his face as he looked down at you.

It took a second for JJ to snap out of his moment of awe for you- that was there for both your boldness, and his care and admiration for you and your entirety. When he did snap out of it, a quick smirk quickly grew on his face as he chuckled. “You little-“

Before he could finish, a flash of lightning and sound of thunder struck the air. The both of you jumping as your heads darted towards the flash of light.

You giggled once you processed the sound before looking back towards JJ and grabbing his hand, starting to pull him towards the sand. “Ok, we gotta get out of here.”

JJ just nodded, still watching you with awe as he smirked. trailing on behind you as he let you drag him forward.

“Maybe we could chill in the back of the car instead of leaving right away?”

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

tagging muts: @bambrinaa @nemesyaaa @winnie1emon / @rafesdearest @rafesbowbunny @cameronsprincess @hauntedfawnn @angellocket @littlelamy @slvbun @sematarygirls @hvnlygrl @cherrygirlfriend @v3n1ce-bxtch @personapeters @riddlesbunny

[lolitastories]

Badge

Rafe Cameron

Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

“What do you want, Cameron?” Of course, what other thing would Rafe Cameron be doing at 3:32 in the afternoon than bother me at work. You may wonder why he is in my work, walking freely with my badge around his neck. Well, I have the same question.

“Since you can’t return my texts or calls, I decided to stop by.” I spin around my chair as he walks closer with his known smirk.

“You know,” I start off. “When people, don’t respond to someone's text or call that would mean they either are busy or don’t want to talk to you and for me? That would be both.” I lean back in my chair and wait.

“My love,” He chuckles, throwing his head back a bit. He looks back at me, capturing my gaze. He takes only two steps to lean forward, resting his hands on my chair’s armrest. “You may be busy but if you truly didn’t want to talk to me you would have blocked me by now.” damn you. I bit my lip moving closer to him. I could feel his warm breath and smell his cologne.

“I could change states, name, or even be six feet underground, would that have stopped you?” He drops his head while shaking it.

“No,” He whispers, raising his head slowly. His eyes would forever be mesmerizing to me.

“Eh-am, Detective?” Our head turned to my intern. She had some paperwork in her hand and her stance was off. I push Rafe off and turn to give her my attention.

“Yes?” My voice broke a little as I tried to regain my breath. I ignored the quick snicker from Rafe who was still behind me.

“We got a new case-” I look over following her gaze. Rafe was leaning against the filing cabinet I had in my office and had in hand a picture frame. I roll my eyes and turn to the intern.

“Thank you, Julie, I will call you when I finish taking a look at it.” I speak but her mind is preoccupied with something else. I reach over and wave my hand over her face finally gaining her attention again.

“Oh yes,” She smiles. “I will be at my desk.” She lets out a nervous chuckle and walks out. I quickly stand and take the picture frame from Rafe’s hand and place it back on top of the cabinet. I stand in front of him with a hand on my hip.

“You were a cute kid.” I look over to glance at the picture and shake my head. I was the only kid in second grade with a Dora haircut who thanks to my mother kept getting shorter until I finally told her no in 4th grade. “You must have been a pretty baby too.” I scoff turning around.

“I wouldn’t know. My parents didn't have a single picture of me until I was 3.” I pull my chair back and take a seat.

“You know how we can find out-” I lifted my hand and pushed his face away when his voice got close to my ear. I held back a laugh as I flick him away.

“Rafe, I have work to do. Can you bother me some other time?” I slant my head a bit and look up with pleading eyes. I watch as he puts his hands in his pocket and walks around my desk. He groans, turning around to face me.

“You make it hard not to imagine you on your knees.” With a simple movement he takes my badge from around his neck and gently places it in front of me and walks out of my office. I could help but laugh at his whining.

I met Rafe a couple of months ago when there was an accident that involved one of his workers. I was investigating the case and with the use of the cameras he had around his sites I could capture the guy. If I knew giving him my contact information or even accepting the case would lead to him coming unannounced to my job, I would have dropped the case to someone else. I rubbed my forehead, getting some frustration out before opening the file.

Veva Acosta. 15. She disappeared at Charleston’s airport. Has been recently diagnosed with schizophrenia. Last seen walking down outer banks beach. That’s about 400 miles from the airport. “Julie?” I press my intercom and in a second she is at my door. “This girl must have gone through two ferries” She nods, taking a seat. “Her last medication on file said it was given just 5 days before she disappeared. We must find her before her two-week deadline.”

“That means if it took her 7 days to get her, she only has two days.”

“And if she got scared at the airport with only five days on the medication it may mean it's not working well enough. So, she must be-,”

“Freaking out.” I look up hearing her scoff. “Sorry.” She quickly apologizes. “We can check out if the cameras of the country club caught where she went next.” I nod, getting up and grabbing my badge.

“You will head down to the country club and check out the cameras and I will walk down the beach and see if someone caught something.”

“Okay.” We walk out together into the afternoon sun. The warm breeze was blowing a little strong, but it was the beauty of this place. I hated waking up early and feeling the sun bring light into my room. I hated cheery people and how everybody knew each other. I hated tourists and how busy it can get on the weekends. But maybe because I grew up in a somewhat small town that didn’t come close to the outer banks. Maybe all I needed was a waterfront view and the comfort of being able to feel warm sand under my feet any chance I wanted. I get into my car and drive down towards the country club. I pull in, seeing Julie getting out her car and walking into the club. I leave my things in the vehicle except my phone and badge and start making my way down to the beach. I don’t come as much down here as I would like but you can differentiate the locals from non-locals.

“Excuse me?” I walked closer to an older woman who was sitting on a bench. She looks up and smiles. “Did you happen to see this girl around here yesterday or maybe even today?” I pull out my phone and show her the picture the girl's parents had given us.

“No honey. I'm sorry.” She looks up at me shaking her head. “I will keep an eye out for her and call the station if I see her.” I give her a gentle nod before thanking her. “I hope you find her soon.” She waves off. I let out a sigh but continued on my search. I spoke to most locals, and they all had the same answer, they hadn’t seen her.

“We don’t usually bother with tourists, most of us probably thought she was one of them.” I nod agreeing. Who wouldn’t mistake a 15-year-old girl walking alone down the beach as a tourist? I will tell you who wouldn’t, people who saw her 7-day old dirty and torn clothes. Her hair being a mess and probably looking left and right, afraid of her surroundings.

“Thank you,” I forced a smile and turned back around towards the country club. I couldn’t just stop here. I started to look around the area until I heard my phone ring. “Hello?”

“Detective, Acosta was seen talking to a fisherman nearby. I will send his picture to the station and identify him.”

“Alright. Send the information to my phone as soon as you get it, I will stay here.” We say goodbye and I hang up the phone. “A fisherman?” I whisper to myself. I sit down in the sand and focus on my surroundings as I wait for the information. Thankfully it didn’t take Julie long to send the picture of the guy and his current address. I opened up the phone app and called her as I was already on my way to the car. “I want you to prepare the interrogation room and file a warrant on the guy. Tell Price I need him and two more officers on standby in case he doesn’t want to corroborate.” I groan mentally seeing a known figure leaning against my car.

“I will tell them to stick nearby. This guy has previous felonies.” I thanked her before quickly hanging up the phone.

“Was wondering when you were going to show up.” He smiled, kicking himself off my car to follow me around the driver's door. “You came to check up on me?” He teases, cornering me as I throw my belongings over to the passenger seat. I stood up straight, turning to face him.

“Yeah, I'm worried about the guy who owns over half of the island.” He smiles proudly. “I have to go to Rafe.” I slid into my seat, but he didn’t budge to move even when I tried to close the door on him. 

“You are always running. Busy-busy-busy,” I throw my head back and take a deep breath. When I open my eyes, I am met with his face only an inch away. “Do I have to buy the station just to give you a day off?” His warm breath was casting over my skin and I had to bite my lip to hold back a grin. I tried to look in another direction as his eyes were causing my heart to beat faster than usual.

“Rafe I really need to go.” There was a whine in there but that's how uncontrolled I felt when he was this close to me. He noticed and smirked.

“Be careful.” He whispered before showing off his pearly whites. He could be such a dick sometimes but in space like this, there wasn’t room for his ego. He was sweet and that's what got me on the edge of my seat. With a last look he starts to pull away. My brain fights to pull my hands away, but they are already in motion. I took hold of his face and pulled him close for a quick kiss. Just a peck, a little innocent kiss, or so I thought. His big strong hands get lost in my hair as he pulls us together again. He pushes us back until I am leaning against the seat. His mouth scavenged mine and no matter how much I wanted to breathe; I wanted him more. I hear a groan escape from the back of his throat sending a shiver down to my core.

“Rafe-” I pull back and push him out. “I need to go.” I say dryly. I shut the door and turned on my car and quickly sped off. I was baffled by the lack of strength I had shown a couple of minutes ago. And now, hitting the steering wheel is not good enough to show how stupid I feel for just leaving so quick after that, kiss. I shake my head trying to uncloud my mind. I didn’t have time to focus on Rafe at the moment, I had to question a suspect.

Part 2??

[bandsofmarv]

What’s Your Favourite Horror Movie Pogue?

Rafe Cameron, consumed by an obsessive love for you, becomes Ghostface, murdering anyone he sees as a threat to his claim on you.

TW- murder, obsessive behaviour.

The Outer Banks was known for its beauty: golden sunsets, endless beaches, and the salty air that whispered promises of freedom. But lately, that promise felt like a lie. The town was gripped with fear, whispers of a masked killer spreading like wildfire. They called him Ghostface, a name plucked from horror movies but now real, haunting your life in ways you couldn’t escape.

What no one knew—what you didn’t know—was that the killer wasn’t some faceless stranger. It was Rafe Cameron.

And his obsession with you was the reason the killings had begun.

The first time you noticed something strange, it had been subtle. Rafe was always intense, his gaze lingering on you a little too long, his presence suffocating in a way that should have made you uncomfortable. But Rafe was also charming, magnetic even. You found yourself drawn to him despite the warnings in your head.

But as the days passed, his intensity deepened. He started showing up unannounced—at your work, outside your house, even at the places you went to clear your mind.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he’d say, flashing that disarming smile. “With everything going on, you can’t be too careful.”

At first, it felt sweet. Protective. But soon, it felt suffocating.

The murders began with strangers—people you didn’t know well enough to connect the dots. A lifeguard at the beach, a couple tourists who had wandered into the wrong part of town. The pattern was erratic at first, but then it started to hit closer to home.

You were with Sarah Cameron when she got the call about her boyfriend, Topper. The cops had found him in the woods, gutted like an animal. Sarah broke down in your arms, sobbing uncontrollably, and you couldn’t help but notice Rafe watching from the corner of the room.

His expression wasn’t one of grief. It was satisfaction.

The night it all came crashing down, you were alone in your house. The power had gone out during a storm, and you were sitting in the living room with a flashlight and your phone, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling settling over you.

That’s when you heard the knock at the door.

It wasn’t loud—just three soft taps, deliberate and slow.

“Who is it?” you called, your voice shaking.

No response.

You grabbed a kitchen knife and crept toward the door, your heart pounding. When you peeked through the peephole, all you saw was darkness.

Then your phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number: You shouldn’t be alone.

Your blood ran cold.

Before you could react, the window behind you shattered, and a figure in black vaulted into the room. The scream caught in your throat as the figure lunged at you, pinning you to the floor.

The knife clattered from your hand as you struggled, but it was no use. The figure was too strong, too quick.

“Stop fighting,” the distorted voice said, low and mechanical through the voice modulator. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

The masked figure pulled out a knife, holding it to your throat, but he didn’t press down. Instead, he leaned closer, tilting his head as if studying you.

Then, slowly, he removed the mask.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

His eyes were wild, his lips curved into a twisted smile. “I told you I’d protect you,” he said, his voice soft but laced with something dark. “I just needed to get rid of the distractions.”

“Distractions?” you echoed, your mind racing as realization hit.

“Topper. JJ. Sarah. They were all in the way. You couldn’t see it, but I did. They didn’t deserve to be near you.”

Tears streamed down your face as you stared at him in horror. “You killed them? All of them?”

“I did it for you,” he said, his tone almost tender. “Don’t you see? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

You shook your head, trying to inch away, but he grabbed your wrists, his grip bruising.

The room was suffocating, the walls closing in as Rafe knelt over you, the Ghostface mask discarded at his side. His wild blue eyes locked onto yours, his breath uneven with exhilaration.

“Let me explain,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with madness. “You don’t understand now, but you will.”

You didn’t want to understand. Every instinct told you to fight, to scream, to do something, but his weight pinned you to the floor, and his manic gaze froze you in place.

“It started with Topper,” Rafe said, as if you’d asked for the story. “That guy was such an idiot, thinking he could push you around at parties, making those crude comments. I hated the way he looked at you.”

Your mind flashed to that night at the beach bonfire, when Topper had made some drunk joke about you being “the hottest Pogue.” You’d brushed it off, but Rafe had been furious, storming off without a word.

“I followed him that night,” Rafe continued, his tone calm, like he was recounting a mundane event. “He didn’t even hear me coming. One quick cut across the throat, and he went down like the pathetic little worm he was.”

You gagged, bile rising in your throat, but Rafe didn’t stop.

“And Sarah,” he said, his lips curling into a sneer. “She was always trying to play the big sister, telling me to leave you alone. She didn’t get it. She thought she could warn you, but she didn’t realize how serious I was.”

Tears blurred your vision as you thought of Sarah—her kind smile, the way she’d pulled you aside to warn you about Rafe’s behavior.

“I didn’t want to kill her,” he said, his voice softening, almost regretful. “But she wouldn’t shut up. She was going to ruin everything. So, I took her out by the marsh. She fought hard, you know? Almost made me rethink it. Almost.”

He paused, studying your face as if gauging your reaction. “I made it quick. For her.”

“You’re a monster,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

His eyes darkened, and he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t say that,” he hissed. “I did this for you. For us. You think I wanted to hurt you? To scare you? I had to. They were all trying to take you away from me.”

“JJ…” you started, your voice trembling.

Rafe grinned, leaning back slightly. “Oh, JJ was fun. He was always so cocky, always acting like he could protect you. I wanted to see him break.”

You remembered the day JJ’s body was found under the pier, the jagged “X” carved into his chest. The image would haunt you forever.

“He begged,” Rafe said, his tone almost giddy now. “He said, ‘Please, don’t do this.’ As if I’d ever listen to him. He didn’t deserve to be near you, Y/N. None of them did.”

“And Kie?” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

Rafe’s expression hardened. “Kie was the worst. She thought she was better than everyone, always pretending she was the voice of reason. She was a bad influence on you.”

You felt like you might vomit as he continued.

“She went down easy,” he said with a shrug. “I cornered her after you two said goodbye that night. She didn’t even see it coming. She was so distracted, thinking she could keep you safe. But she didn’t stand a chance.”

Your sobs grew louder, and Rafe’s demeanor shifted. He reached out, brushing a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle despite the horrors he was describing.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured. “It’s over now. It’s just us. No one else will ever hurt you, or distract you, or take you away from me.”

“You’re insane,” you spat, your voice shaking with equal parts fear and fury.

Rafe chuckled, leaning closer. “Maybe. But I’m also the only one who truly loves you. Don’t you see that? I did all of this for you.”

You stared into his eyes, the weight of his obsession crashing down on you. There was no reasoning with him, no appealing to his humanity. Rafe Cameron wasn’t just insane—he was utterly and completely lost to his delusion.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You don’t have to fight this. I’ve already won.”

His arrogance was your opening. Summoning every ounce of courage you had left, you drove your knee upward, catching him off-guard. He grunted, the knife slipping from his hand and skidding across the floor.

You didn’t think—you just moved. Scrambling to your feet, you bolted for the door, your heart pounding like a war drum.

“Y/N!” Rafe roared, his voice filled with both fury and disbelief.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood as you sprinted out into the stormy night, rain pelting your face and blurring your vision. The wind howled around you, carrying Rafe’s voice as he shouted your name.

You stumbled into the woods, branches clawing at your skin as you pushed deeper into the darkness. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your lungs burning, but you couldn’t stop. Not now. Not ever.

Behind you, you could hear him crashing through the underbrush, relentless in his pursuit.

“You can’t run from me!” he called, his voice cutting through the rain like a blade. “You’re mine, Y/N! You’ll always be mine!”

————————————————————————

You didn’t know how long you ran, but eventually, you found yourself near the old marina. The boats swayed violently in the storm, their masts creaking like eerie sentinels. Desperation drove you forward as you searched for a hiding place, somewhere—anywhere—to catch your breath.

You spotted an abandoned boathouse and darted inside, slamming the door behind you. The smell of salt and damp wood filled your nostrils as you collapsed against the wall, your chest heaving.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then came the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps.

“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” Rafe’s voice called out, eerily calm now.

Your heart plummeted as you realized he was inside.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle your breathing as you pressed yourself deeper into the shadows.

“I know you’re here,” he said, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. “You think you can hide from me? After everything I’ve done for you?”

He was closer now. Too close.

You glanced around frantically, your eyes landing on a rusted wrench lying on the floor nearby. Gripping it tightly, you prepared yourself. You had no choice.

The moment his shadow appeared in the doorway, you swung. The wrench connected with his shoulder, and he let out a furious snarl, staggering back.

“You really think you can get away from me?” he growled, his eyes blazing with fury.

“I have to try,” you said, your voice shaking but firm.

He lunged, and you ducked, slipping past him and back out into the storm. Your legs screamed in protest, your lungs on fire, but you didn’t stop. Not until you saw the headlights.

A car was coming down the old dirt road, its beams cutting through the darkness like a beacon of hope. You stumbled into the road, waving your arms frantically.

“Help!” you screamed. “Please, help me!”

The car screeched to a halt, and the driver—a local you vaguely recognized—jumped out.

“What the hell’s going on?” he asked, but before you could answer, Rafe emerged from the woods, his face twisted in rage.

“Don’t listen to her!” Rafe shouted, his tone switching to something almost pleading. “She’s confused—she doesn’t know what she’s saying!”

The driver hesitated, looking between the two of you.

“Please,” you begged, grabbing his arm. “He’s going to kill me!”

That was all it took. The man stepped between you and Rafe, his stance protective.

But Rafe didn’t flinch. He simply smiled.

“Wrong move,” Rafe muttered before pulling a knife from his belt and plunging it into the man’s side.

You screamed as the man crumpled to the ground, his blood mixing with the rain-soaked dirt.

“You see?” Rafe said, turning back to you, his knife dripping red. “There’s no one who can save you. No one who understands you like I do.”

————————————————————————

Days later, you woke up in a strange room, the faint scent of sea air filling your nose. Your wrists were bound, the rope digging into your skin.

Rafe sat in a chair nearby, his gaze soft but unwavering.

“You’re safe now,” he said, his voice tender. “No one’s going to take you away from me ever again.”

The reality settled over you like a shroud. You had escaped, but only briefly.

And now, there was no escape. Not from him. Not ever.

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part Two

Part One, Part Three

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Your parents work late on Friday nights, which you spend alone. Except you haven't been alone in a long time, not that you know of at least. Rafe has watched for years, he's very good at it. His idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when you catch him in your bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living. After you find the surprise he had left for you, you choose to believe that his threats were empty and try to turn him in. But, your plans are interrupted and you take an unexpected visit to Tannyhill.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the plot. Strong & descriptive language, suggestive themes, death threat(?), manipulation, kidnapping (?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Part Two is here!! I know this chapter is shorter than the previous, but I figured it's better to get what I had out. Also...I'm not sure if I like where this is going, so please share your thoughts about this part and ideas for future parts. Thank you all for the support on the first part of this story. Especially with this being my first work I've published on tumblr, I am very pleasantly surprised with how everyone has reacted to it. So, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!!

CREDITS: The foundation of this fic was heavily inspired by/ based off of one of @faiszt 's bots on character ai. So, if you like this and you like character ai, I greatly suggest that you check out the bot!

The blinding morning light shines into your room through your curtains. You sit up and rub your eyes. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand which currently reads: 10:34 am. Those sleeping pills really worked, you think. Your parents are already at the restaurant, probably just getting over with the morning rush. 

Your eyes begin to focus, your brows furrow as your eyes land on one of the posts of your footboard. You lean forward to grab the pair of panties you had just worn yesterday which are hanging from your bedpost. You’re pretty sure you had put these in your hamper last night and wait, why are they sticky…? You wonder, you examine them and come to the realization of what it is. Immediately you toss them away, that was not from you. It was your stalker, it had to be. Of course, the first night you spend alone since four weeks ago and he already breaks in. And he does this? You think about his words, “tell anyone and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you”, shivers roll down your spine. 

You hadn’t even had time to realize how horny you had been when you had woken up; and now that you have you feel so wrong. But your dream…oh god your dream. You can still remember it vividly, even more so the longer you think about it; you can see the face of the man who fucked you stupid in your dream. You know who it was, who your subconscious mind let you fuck while you slept. It was your stalker. 

Without another thought, you’re in the shower scrubbing the shame and disgust from your skin—or at least attempting to. When you feel somewhat satisfied, which also happens to be when the water begins to run cold, you finally get out. Wrapping a plush towel around your freshly clean body, you lean over the bathroom sink and wipe the condensation from the mirror leaving just enough space to see yourself. Before the glass fogs back up you’re able to see a small part of what appears to be a bruise poking out from underneath the towel wrapped around your chest. You lean in closer using one hand to re-wipe the mirror and using the other to pull your towel down past your boobs. Looking back at the bruised area on your chest, you can see that the closer you look at it, the more it looks like a hickey. You just about stumble backwards at the realization. 

You’ve had enough. After you quickly toss on some clothes, you grab your keys off your dresser with a shaky hand. You rush out towards your car and get inside, pulling out of your driveway carelessly and speeding off. When you arrive at your destination, you take a few moments to rethink this plan. You have to do this. You can’t keep living with some creep sneaking in your bedroom and touching you as you sleep. You twist the keys in the ignition and pull them out, you confidently strut towards the entrance of the building. When you feel the vibration of your phone in your pocket you pause, sighing as you reach back to take it out. When you read the random number, with the same Outer Banks area code as you, your brows furrow. Typically you wouldn’t answer a call from an unknown number, but something in you is telling you to answer. As you press the green button and bring your phone to your ear, you glance up at the building you were about to enter which reads, ‘Kildare County Sheriff’s Office’. 

“Hello?” You ask warily.

After a few long seconds, the person on the other side of the line answers you. “Stop.” The man’s voice sends familiar chills down your spine. 

“Excuse me?” You respond, your voice audibly shaky. “Who…who is this?”

“C’mon pup, you already forgot what I sound like? It’s already been that long?” Your eyes widen at the realization of who this voice belongs to. You’ve heard it one other time, well one time that you remember.

As your head darts around the parking lot looking for your stalker, your voice comes out in a tone that easily betrays you, revealing your fear, “No…no…what the hell do you want?”

Rafe smirks from his truck as he watches you from afar. “I want you to turn around and get back in your car, m’kay princess? And I highly suggest you do what I want.” 

“Or what? What’s stopping me from walking in? Or from yelling for help?” You take a step closer to the building’s entrance.

“Stubborn, stubborn girl…” the man chuckles, “If you don’t get back into your fucking car right now, you’re gonna really fuckin’ wish you had just listened to me. I’m gonna get what I want no matter what, baby. You’re mine.” And with that, Rafe hangs up the phone, still watching you from a distance. 

As much as you want to just run into the building and beg for help, you know that unfortunately since you’re a pogue, the cops aren’t going to believe a single word that comes from your mouth. In their minds, all pogues are liars and thieves. And since you don’t have the slightest clue on who the man you saw in your bedroom is, you figure there’s not much they’d be able to do even if they did believe you. So you reluctantly turn back to your car and get inside. The moment your door shuts you inside, your phone buzzes yet again with another call. It’s coming from the same number, but this time you don’t answer. This was your second mistake. 

Rafe’s already pissed off. You went against his rules, you didn’t listen to him, none of this will work if you don’t listen. He thought he had been threatening enough that you’d behave, but clearly you need another scare. You need to be taught that disobeying him does nothing but hurt you more. When you don’t answer the phone when you definitely know it’s him calling, this is just the cherry on top; the icing on the cake. Rafe is fuming. 

You drive out of the parking lot, breath heavy as you stay on high alert–searching for him. A truck suddenly pulls behind you, tailing right on your ass. You can’t see through the truck's front windshield due to the dark tint. You being paranoid, step on the gas and speed up a bit, well exceeding the speed limit. A few quick seconds pass by and you jump at the sound of sirens. It doesn’t take long for you to check your rearview mirror and realize that the sirens are coming from the truck behind you, which is flashing its red and blue lights. You let out a breath of relief. You’re being pulled over yet you’re relieved because it means you aren’t being trailed by your stalker. The feeling is short lived as you flick your signal on and pull off to the side of the road. You roll your window down and shut off the engine.

The officer approaches you and goes through the typical routine and you try to calm your nerves. All sound is drowned out as you get lost in your thoughts. 

“Ma’am?”, the officer repeats. “Do you know why I’ve pulled you over today?”

The sharp and unintentionally threatening voice of the deputy snaps you out of wherever the hell it was that your mind had taken you to. “Yes, sorry sir, I…I was going over the speed limit.” You submit, wanting to get this over with. You can’t help but worry what your stalker would think if he saw this, he’d probably think you’re turning him in. But, you’re not. Really this whole thing was a misunderstanding, but you can’t explain that to the cop. 

“And why is that?” He questions you ever further, his gaze staring at you intensely. You get nervous and want to look away, but you worry that might make you look guilty of something. You’ve been pulled over before, it’s not usually a big deal for you. However you’re just so goddamn nervous and need this moment to be over. You feel like you’ve done something wrong; like you’re hiding something. But you aren’t.

“I–I thought…I just got distracted sir, wasn't thinking about speed. I apologize for the inconvenience.” You catch yourself, technically you aren’t lying; you just aren’t explaining why you were distracted. The threatening words of your stalker still echo around your head. The deputy gives a small lecture as he writes up a ticket for you. Once he gets back into his truck and drives off, you rest your head back against the seat and let out the breath you’ve been holding. When you start your car back up and finally open your eyes, you look straight out across the road. You can see a tall man leaning against a truck parked across the road, staring right at you. The familiar grin on his face has you sick to your stomach. 

After making direct eye contact with him, you pull off the side of the road and do an illegal U-turn so that you’re heading in the opposite direction, leaving the man behind. You know that he’s following you, so you drive around aimlessly until you get another call from the same unknown number. You want to decline, but you’re too afraid to face the consequences that might follow. 

“What do you want?” You ask, voice full of faux confidence. The only thing you hear on the other side of the line is a heavy breath that causes your skin to become full of goosebumps. 

After you’ve had a few moments to panic, he finally speaks, “Keep driving”. His words are not said lightly. This is undoubtedly a command, not an option. 

“Keep driving to where?” You stammer with nervousness. 

“Tannyhill.” He replies strictly. 

“Tannyhill?” You question before being able to stop yourself. You can’t help the attitude that slips into your voice. When a few more moments of silence pass, you get more and more anxious for his response. “Hello…?” You ask quietly, wondering if you lost connection. Still nothing. “Hello?” You ask again with more volume. After another minute or two, you hear the phone beep; the call disconnects. 

Why the hell does he want you to go to Tannyhill? It doesn’t make any sense. But you don’t exactly have a choice. He’s following you either way and it’s not like he doesn’t know where you live…and just about everything about your life. So, it’s probably best to just play along and obey his commands. 

When you get close to the general destination, your phone rings with yet another call. You answer, already knowing who it's from. This time you don’t speak first, you wait to hear what he has to say. It takes a few moments, almost like he’s trying to wait long enough that you’ll talk. The silence starts to get unbearably awkward, but your mind is set on waiting for him to speak and Rafe doesn’t have the time to wait; having to give you directions and all. When he finally talks he doesn’t greet you. His voice breaking the silence startles you as he instructs you with the directions to get wherever it was he was forcing you to go. 

“Wait…turn left h-here?” You ask, confused at his directions. You had missed the beginning of what he said since you had to collect yourself after being frightened. 

He sighs in impatience, “No dammit, the next one. Were you not listening?” 

“I…no I-I was listening–” you stumble over your words as you turn onto the street he wanted you to. 

“Bullshit. You need to learn how to fucking listen to me, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, trying to focus on remembering the directions he gave you, it only serves to piss him off even further. “Huh?! Don’t you?!” He shouts into the phone as he follows behind you.

You whine in fear, “No..I can listen. I promise I can listen to you.” You practically beg. “J-just tell me where to go?”

Rafe directs you to his house, which you of course recognize as the Cameron’s mansion. You’ve heard about the Cameron’s, but you wouldn’t be able to point them out in a crowd or anything. Besides from the father, Ward Cameron, whom you’ve seen on the news several times. Is he a Cameron? As you park in the large driveway, you rack your brain trying to recall the name of the Cameron son. 

His truck parks behind you, blocking your car in. He quickly kills the engine and exits his vehicle. You don’t notice him walking up to you until he’s yanking your car door open and pulling you out by the arm.

“R-rafe?” You mumble insecurely. He pauses to look at you, chuckling at your words. He mutters a quick ‘smart girl’ before retightening his grip on your arm and continuing to pull you into the large mansion. You start to cry, getting overwhelmed as you imagine the many possible scenarios that may occur. “P-please,” you manage to choke out. “What do you want?”

Unlike the last time you cried to him, this time he doesn’t stop. He drags you up one level of the large, spiral staircase; pulling you into his bedroom. As soon as you see the bed, you’re already feeling it beneath your back when he shoves you down just a few seconds later. As if you hadn’t already embarrassed yourself enough, you can’t help the tears that begin to stream down your flushed cheeks at a flooding rate. 

“Wait…no, please, please!” The way you keep shouting and choking back sobs causes you to gag from how worked up you’ve gotten yourself. All the Cameron son does in response is lean back to get a full view of you as a smug grin spreads across his face. “Please, I—oh god, I’m gonna be sick…” You mumble, which is quickly followed by another gag that interrupts your constant sobs. 

Rafe snakes his hand up from your arm to your hair, wrapping his first tightly around a large section of it. He tugs on your hair to force your head to look up at him, causing a small whine to escape your lips. “Shhh…baby, shhh…” He mumbles, his ‘worried’ tone working to oppose his previous amused expression. “Calm down, alright? Calm down. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want, m’kay pretty girl?” The way he says that last part…you’ve never heard his voice sound like that before. You didn’t even think he was capable of talking in that tone. He sounds like he might actually truly care about you. You’re relieved; maybe even a bit…comforted by the fact that he might be telling the truth about not doing anything you don’t want. Well, besides having you basically held captive in his home. 

“What…what are you gonna do?” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to catch your breath so you can calm down.

“I just wanna talk to you baby. Alright?” Rafe mumbles your name into your ear, allowing you to feel his hot breath against the side of your face. Immediately you’re taken back to the first time you had met him, in your bedroom a few weeks back. You try to push that aside and bring yourself back to the present; the memory only brings back the feelings of complete and utter fear you experienced at that time. Not that the present was any better, hell, it was worse. 

Hesitantly, you nod. He waits a few minutes to speak; waiting for you to catch your breath. Once you’re calmer, at least on the outside, he finally starts to talk. “I wanted to talk about my proposition…” He looks down at you, bringing his hand up to cautiously run through your hair. “Last time I got cut short…remember that?”

You nod. “I…I tried to warn you my parents would come home. I-I swear I didn’t tell them anything.” You say frantically, trying to prove your innocence.

“Hey, shh…it’s okay babe. I know. I know.” Rafe speaks slowly, his eyes never leaving your lips. He pauses to momentarily dart his tongue out to wet his parted lips. “I know. You haven’t told…you’ve been a good girl and listened to me, hm? Haven’t you baby? Haven't you been a good girl?” 

You nod frantically. “I…I’d never turn you in…” The false seductiveness in your voice turns him off, if that’s even possible. 

He pulls back from you and sighs, “Shut up.” He runs a rough hand over his buzzed head and begins to quickly pace across his bedroom. 

“B-but you wanted to talk…” You remind him. The way his attitude was constantly shifting in great amounts had you furrowing your brows as you tried to figure him out. 

“Yeah, I do. But not to a goddamn filthy, lying whore.” He retorts, a large grin appearing on his face while he watches your beautiful features move on your face, displaying your thoughts  as you take in his words. “Just be yourself alright? I can always tell when you’re not you.” He says almost sincerely. “I want…I need you to want this. Don’t try to pull that fake crap on me ever again, yeah?” 

Immediately you nod. “I…yes-”, you stammer, instantly regretting even trying to talk in the first place. Rafe chuckles, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He stops pacing and lets out a long sigh, turning to face you again. His steps pause when he’s standing just before you. 

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “I really need this to work, okay…? This is good, this can be good for the both of us. I can help you; we can help each other, baby.” A silent tear rolls down your cheek from the fear of what’s to come. “I know…I know I messed up, alright? I know. But, you don’t have to be scared, baby. It’s all gonna be okay.” He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Please…I just wanna go home, let me go home!” Your cries are ugly, and very, very real. The fear in your voice only worries him. Worries him that you may never get past this. But you have to. You don’t have another option. And he really, really doesn’t want to have to hurt you. That was never his intention. 

“But you are home, baby. You are home.” He mutters as his fingers brush over your cheeks, smearing your tears. Your breath hitches at his words and your eyes slowly move up to meet his. This cannot be happening. Why is this happening? You think.

“No…please I…just let me go home. I won’t tell. I promise I won’t. I’ll…I’ll never tell anyone about any of this okay, I’ll never say anything about you.”

“I can’t do that, baby…you know I can’t do that.”

“Why not? I swear, I’ll never ever breathe a word of this to anyone.” You say enticingly.

Rafe sits down besides you, causing the mattress to dip and make you lean towards him. He puts an arm around you and his hand lands on the back of your head, pulling it into his chest.

He leans down to speak into your ear while his hand pets over your hair as you cry into his chest. “Because I need you baby, I need you. And I need you to let me take care of you, yeah? I know…I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. Just trust me okay…we’re gonna be so good together baby.” He tugs at your hair, gently guiding your face to look up at him. “Just listen to me and nothing will happen, I don’t wanna have to…do anything. I just need to know that you’ll listen to what I say.” Immediately you nod, going along with what he says. He tugs on your hair harder, eliciting a gasp to fall from your lips. “Ah ah, I know you can talk. You’re a big girl, now fucking act like it.” He says forcefully.

“I-I’m gonna listen, I’ll listen to you, just please, please don’t hurt me.”

He smiles softly as his eyes dart across your face, unable to pick a feature to focus on, everything about you is just too damn perfect. “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you, not as long as you listen.” His grip loosens on your hair again. “But you’ll be begging for it soon enough.” Rafe’s whispers are enough to make your sobs start again; in which he pulls your head back into his chest. Your tears soak into his shirt as you have no choice but to cry into him.

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable. This part took quite a bit for me to finish, since life has been a bit busy and I haven't had much time to plan or write. I apologize for the short chapter, I'll try my best to make up for it with the next part! I never really feel done with anything and as I said before I'm not sure if I'm a fan of this part or not. So, if you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them in future parts. And there's not much I won't write!

[stqrgirlie0]

pope heyward + brent faiyaz

you can’t tell me that pope heyward doesn’t constantly listen to brent faiyaz on repeat

[cameronsbabydoll]

IMAGINING HER GIVING HIM HEAD AND GETTING HER STRAWBERRY LIP GLOSS ALL OVER HIM AND HE CUMS SO FAST AND SHE DOESNT LAUGH OR MAKE FUN OF HIM SHE JUST KISSES HIM AND TELLS HIM HE DID SO GOOD AND HE DOESNT KNOW WHAT TO DO- AHHH

nerd!rafe getting head !

warnings: nsfw!! head (male receiving) sub rafe, he cums fast and is embarrassed

divider credits @bernardsbendystraws

wc: 347 — a/n: i’m so used to writing dom rafe

rafe’s sitting there, glasses fogged up and slipping down his nose, hands gripping the edge of his desk like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. he’s a mess already—cheeks flushed, breathing all uneven—and you’ve barely even started. you’re on your knees, that strawberry lip gloss shining on your lips, and when you lean in, he freezes like he’s short-circuiting. “you—uh—you don’t have to—” he stammers, but the words die fast when your mouth wraps around him.

it’s sloppy, it’s sweet—literally, that gloss smearing pink and sticky all over him, glistening in the dim light of his room. he’s trying so hard to keep it together, but you can feel him twitching, hear the little choked noises he’s making. his hands hover like he wants to touch you but doesn’t know if he’s allowed, so you grab one, press it to the back of your head, and he just loses it. thirty seconds in—tops—he’s gasping, “oh shit, i—i can’t—” and then he’s gone, spilling hard and fast, hips jerking like he’s never felt anything this good.

you pull back, lips slick and glossy, a little strawberry sheen left behind on him, and he’s staring down at you, mortified. his face is beet red, glasses crooked, and he’s already mumbling apologies—“i didn’t mean to, it’s just—god, i’m such a—” but you don’t let him finish. you climb up, straddling his lap, and kiss him deep, letting him taste the strawberry on your tongue. “you did so good, rafe,” you murmur against his mouth, soft and sincere, fingers threading through his messy hair.

he’s stunned, blinking at you like he can’t compute it—no teasing, no judgment, just you smiling all warm and pretty. his hands finally settle on your waist, tentative, like he’s testing if this is real. “i… uh… really?” he manages, voice small, and you nod, kissing his cheek, his jaw, leaving little glossy marks behind. he’s still reeling, doesn’t know what to do with himself, but that shy, dazed little smile creeping onto his face? that’s all you need to know that your his.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Saving Grace || CEO!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: When Rafe Cameron’s infamous temper threatens to derail the entire office, his wife is called in as the only person who can bring him back to earth.

Warnings: none!

Word count: 2,051

MASTERLIST

Rafe Cameron could be described in many ways: arrogant, sharp-tongued, perpetually stone-faced, and infamously hot-headed. His temper was a ticking time bomb, always moments away from detonation. It didn’t take much to set him off—a missed detail, an oversight, or even the wrong tone of voice—and once his mood soured, it had a ripple effect on everyone within his orbit.

If Rafe was in a foul mood, the entire office braced itself for the storm, knowing they’d bear the brunt of his frustration. Productivity stalled, morale plummeted, and an oppressive tension hung heavy in the air. No one dared to ask if he was okay or offer to fix the issue—it was simply understood that his temper had to run its course.

But there was one person who had mastered the art of disarming the bomb: his assistant, Rachael. If anyone in the office had something to say about Rachael, it was that she knew Rafe Cameron far too well. She had an uncanny ability to read his moods and an arsenal of strategies for defusing them. Most importantly, she understood the one surefire way to calm Rafe down: his wife.

The woman who he worshipped the ground she walked on, mother to his children, and the only person Rafe Cameron seemed to hold above all else. No matter how irritable or unapproachable he became, the mere mention of her name was enough to shift the atmosphere. So when Rachael watched one of her coworkers stumble out of Rafe’s office, barely holding back tears, she knew it was time to intervene.

Her sharp eyes scanned the room, noting the nervous glances exchanged between staff members who were all too aware of the storm brewing behind Rafe’s closed door. Without missing a beat, Rachael grabbed her phone, dialling a number she had memorised long ago. As the call connected, her tone softened—a stark contrast to the sharp efficiency she displayed in the office.

“Hi, Mrs. Cameron,” she began, her voice carrying a mixture of urgency and familiarity. “I hate to bother you, but it’s one of those days. If you’re free, I think a quick word with Rafe might do the trick.” She paused, listening intently before smiling to herself. Rachael didn’t need to explain much; Mrs. Cameron always seemed to know exactly how to handle her husband.

And while the office might dread Rafe’s infamous outbursts, Rachael found comfort in knowing there was someone who could bring the man back down to earth. She let out a small sigh of relief when she heard your calm, reassuring voice on the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there,” you said, your tone steady but with a hint of warmth that was reserved for conversations about your husband.

Without hesitation, you grabbed your car keys, slipping on a pair of heels as you prepared to leave. It wasn’t the first time you’d been called in to play peacemaker, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Rafe’s temper was legendary, but you knew how to navigate it better than anyone else. You’d seen him at his worst, the raw edges of his frustration and anger, but you also knew the softer side of him—the part that melted when you walked into a room, the man who looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

As you slid into the driver’s seat, your thoughts briefly flickered to your children, safely at home with the nanny. You didn’t want to leave them, but you also understood that Rafe needed you. He might not admit it outright, especially not in front of his staff, but the subtle ways he sought you out after a rough day spoke volumes.

~

As you walked toward your husband’s office, the energy in the space shifted noticeably. Heads turned, relief washing over faces that had been tense just moments before. Hushed whispers followed in your wake, employees murmuring their gratitude for the one person who could tame the storm that was Rafe Cameron. Even without uttering a word, your presence commanded respect—graceful yet undeniably authoritative.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” Rachael said as she stood from her desk, her tone filled with a mixture of hope and exhaustion. “He’s in his office, and he’s miserable in there.” You glanced through the glass wall into Rafe’s office. Rachael hadn’t exaggerated—his frustration was palpable. The furrow of his brow, the tight set of his jaw, and the restless movements of his hands screamed of a man on the verge of losing his patience entirely.

You offered Rachael a small, reassuring smile before making your way to the door, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor. You didn’t bother knocking—Rafe hated formalities when it came to you. The heavy sigh he let out at the sound of the door opening was immediate. His eyes remained locked on the papers scattered across his desk, his tone sharp and cold.

“I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.” A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you stepped inside. “Does that include me?” you asked, your voice sweet and smooth, cutting through the tension. Rafe’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. Instantly, his rigid posture softened, and the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift.

The frustration etched into his features melted away, replaced by a look that could only be described as unguarded affection. Just your presence had the power to undo him. Without a word, Rafe reached behind his desk and flicked a switch, causing the glass walls of his office to turn frosted, granting the two of you privacy. His voice softened, tinged with genuine curiosity and concern.

“What are you doing here, baby?" You walked around his desk, your movements fluid and deliberate, and Rafe turned in his chair to face you fully. Standing in front of him, you saw the shift in his expression—the hard edges of his day crumbling as he looked up at you. And there it was, the look that never failed to steal your breath.

No matter how difficult or frustrating his day had been, Rafe always looked at you like you were his entire world, as though you hung the moon and stars just for him. In his eyes, there was nothing but pure, unfiltered love—a stark contrast to the icy exterior he showed everyone else. You leaned down, your fingers brushing lightly against his jaw as you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

His shoulders visibly relaxed at the familiar touch, the tension from his day dissolving. “You’re scaring your employees,” you teased softly, your words accompanied by a light chuckle as you straightened up. Rafe let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back in his chair and rolling his eyes. “They’re ridiculous,” he muttered, his tone laced with both irritation and amusement.

“They’re terrified,” you corrected, folding your arms and raising a brow at him. “I saw one of them practically in tears.” Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not my fault they can’t handle a little pressure.” You gave him a knowing look, stepping closer and resting your hands on the armrests of his chair, effectively boxing him in. “Rafe, you can be a little… intense,” you said gently, your eyes locking with his. “And by ‘a little,’ I mean a lot.”

His lips quirked into a smirk, his hands instinctively finding your waist. “You don’t seem scared of me,” he said, his voice dropping into a softer, almost teasing tone. “That’s because I know the real you,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “The one who spoils me, reads bedtime stories to the kids, and eats all the burnt pancakes I make without complaining.”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling from his chest. “You know I love those burnt pancakes,” he murmured, tugging you closer until you were practically sitting on his lap. “Hmm,” you hummed playfully, trailing your fingers along the lapel of his blazer. “Maybe I should remind your staff that under all that brooding, you’re just a big softie.”

“Don’t you dare,” he warned, though his smirk betrayed the emptiness of his threat. You laughed softly, pressing another kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Then maybe try to be a little nicer? For me?” He sighed, feigning reluctance, but the way his hands tightened on your waist betrayed his surrender. “Fine,” he said, his tone mockingly begrudging. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” you said with a satisfied smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Now, why don’t you take a break? Let me help you relax before you scare anyone else.” Rafe’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, the love in his eyes shining brighter than ever. “You really are my saving grace,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

[lilreidgirl]

Bad guy

Summary: Your ex boyfriend, Rafe, thinks he’s a tough guy so you have to put him back in his place, sort of

Warnings: MDNI(18+), oral (fem receiving), nipple play and boob groping, bloody nose and punching, switch!reader and Rafe, TOXIC reader and Rafe, very possessive, swearing, nicknames/name calling (angel, baby, big man, little bitch, etc…), very heavily inspired by bad guy cause I have writers block so I can only write things based off of songs…

WC: ~1.4k

A/N: Heyy guys!! Sorry, I disappeared, I’ll try posting more. But also first post of 2025!!!!

Fucking idiot.

That’s all that ran through your mind when you say the blood splayed out all over his white shirt and the guy you were just flirting with’s face. Red stained all over the sand under the boy’s nose, more and more liquid spewing from it by the second.

“Fuck!” The guy — you think his name was Jonathan or something — screamed, hand coming up to cup his broken nose. “I- I think it’s broken,” he whined, looking around at the people surrounding him with panic in his horse voice, “That motherfucker broke my nose!”

Just as he yelled out the wonderfully endearing term, your gaze fell on said “motherfucker” sneaking away, using the commotion of Jonathan’s screaming to slip away without being seen.

Motherfucker thought he was so smooth, huh?

You scoffed as you followed.

Soon Rafe had lead you both to a completely different bay, a small one almost no one knew about, one he had shown you on your second date.

“Rafe!” You called out his name as you caught up with him, watching as he immediately turned around, slightly feral looking eyes landing on your own.

“What the fuck was that?” You spat out. Of course, you already knew the answer; he got jealous when he saw you — his ex — flirt with another guy and lashed out. What more can one expect from a man, right?

“Oh, you’re asking me that? You’re the one who’s flirting with all these fucking men at parties like a fucking slut! You’re mine! Mine.” Your eyes studied the way he was staring at you, the expression on his face was one you could always recognise easily. The rage, the savagery, the insanity.

You used to be the one to calm him down, to slowly make that look fade away and blossom into a smile. The day you broke things off with him you promised yourself to never be the one to do it again. It wasn’t your responsibility.

“We broke up.” Your words carried a heavy weight with them, the weight crashing down on Rafe almost instantly.

“You belong to me.” He stated, a fire that seemed to have originated straight from hell burned behind his usually piercing blue eyes, now just a dark navy swimming amongst the shadows of the night sky and the calm ocean waves.

“Oh yeah? Think you’re so tough, huh?” You couldn’t have held back the chuckle that left you if you had tried which you definitely didn’t.

“Get on your knees.” Your voice ordered.

“What?” His mien shifted to one you couldn’t quite read.

“C’mon, big man, you heard me.” The tone of your voice was taunting and you couldn’t help but smirk at the way it felt to say it.

“Get. On. Your. Knees. Now.”

With an undercurrent of hesitation, he sank to his knees, bare skin of his shins hitting the sand as he squatted down in front of you.

His eyes travelled down your body, clad in a black bikini and white shorts. The marks he had left on your delicate skin when you were together still slightly present, little pink spots placed where dark hickies once lay, tiny crescents of his nails dug into your thighs, memories of bruises on your knees from all the times he’d made them scrape down onto the ground.

The gawking at your body didn’t go unnoticed by you. You leaned down, bending your knees under you, ass resting on your ankles so that you were eye level with him.

“You always were rough, weren’t you?” Your fingers glided over the slightly rough area of your joints. “Just couldn’t get enough?”

It was obvious that the questions were rhetorical yet he still answered with a short and eager nod.

As a cruel grin grew on your lips, you took hold of Rafe’s hand and guided it behind you. Like clockwork he promptly tugged at one of the strings connecting the bow that was keeping your bikini tight around your chest.

The flimsy piece of swimwear dropped to the ground, covering the little sandy surface that now lay under it.

“You’re so fucking stunning, angel,” he praised, the nickname making you huff away a suppressed laugh.

His large hands reached up, slim fingers skimming over your smooth mounds.

“You sure you wanna do this, baby?” You asked.

“God, yes.” One of his hands enclosed around your right breast, squeezing gently while the other pinched the nipple of your left breast between his fingers, rolling over it with his thumb.

Straightaway your head fell back in pleasure, breaths coming out in small pants as you questioned, “Yeah? Once we start this again, it won’t end.”

To your ears it sounded like a threat, it possibly actually was, but to Rafe’s? He was convinced it was the best promise ever made to him.

“Please.” He sounded desperate and you absolutely loved it.

“Stupid.” You muttered under your breath, unsure if Rafe had heard the whispered comment or not.

“Don’t you see what I do to you, Rafey?” Your fingers clipped into his blonde hair, tugging you closer together as your ass rose from your ankles.

“Your mommy fucking hates me, your sister avoids me at all costs, your friends think I’m crazy and I’d quite literally fuck your daddy if he let me.” A loud whisper left him as you pulled him even closer, roughly shoving his face against your chest. Right away his mouth wrapped around your left nipples, his silken tongue flicking and tasting at your sensitive bud as he moaned.

“I’m the bad guy.”

With a brutal force you hauled his face away from your body and stared down at his eyes as they looked up at you with a hint of surprise.

“And you’re my little bitch, huh?” Your lips met each other in a heated, dark kiss as your hands cascaded all over each other’s bodies.

After a few seconds, when it seemed Rafe had finally come to his senses he jerked backwards, breaking the kiss.

“Don’t call me that.” He spat, anger snd disbelief costing his beautiful features.

“I can call you whatever I want.” You snapped back, dominate overtaking your tone.

Instantaneously Rafe grabbed your thighs and in one fluid motion laid down on the sandy beach and yanked you on top of him, your legs straddling his waist.

“Acting like you can fucking order me around now, huh?” He questioned, eyes boring into your face.

“Outta teach you a lesson.” Was the last thing he said before he turned you around to face the same direction as him and tugged down your shorts and panties, stripping you of all your clothes, before dragging you to hover over his face.

Shaky exhales left you as you felt his hot breath hit your bare core.

“Rafe…” you whined as your hands settled on his shirtless upper body, nails digging into his pecs.

“Shh, angel, just let me take care of you, okay?” Before you could even think about answers he found respite between your supple thighs, his hands tainting your body, kneading and bruising at your soft skin while his rough, curling tongue laps over your soppy cunt.

With loud moans and whines ripping through your body, you dragged your fingers from his bare chest to his neck, wrapping your hands around his throat, feeling his tongue stutter against your clit which made an even more forceful groan escape you.

“Fuck, Rafe!” Your hands tightened around his neck, grinding your sex down onto his nose and mouth. “I’m gonna come!”

Your words made his actions even more vigorous and soon you were reaching your high, moaning his name as he tongue-fucked you through your orgasm.

After the trembling of your legs had slightly calmed down you collapsed forward, resting against his torso.

You felt a small kiss be placed on your sensitive clit, making your body jolt and cry out.

When you’d felt you’d rested enough you got up, quickly grabbing your bikini and shorts and putting them back on.

Rafe sat up and watched you get clothed again, ruffling his hair to get a bit of the sand out.

“So… does this mean we’re back together?” He asked.

“Uhh…”

@emma-e-a

[probably-writing-x]

Festival Buzz

Summary:

Warnings: I don’t believe there’s any???

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoy <33333 Thank you for your request !!

———

“I’m so sure this makeup is going to look terrible by the end of the day,” You laugh to Madison as the two of you finish getting ready in the mirror.

“Girl, don’t worry,” She squeezes your arm, “We’ll be in it together.”

You were wearing a bikini top and long flared trousers covered in tassels - the kind of outfit you’d decided on after a quick coachella outfits pinterest search. It was your first time going to Coachella after Madison had been set on you coming with her. You’d spent the morning getting ready in her hotel room and then you’d be going to the festival with Mariyah and Drew, meeting the rest of the cast there. You and Drew had been dating for the past four months but had kept it private since. You were always seen out in a group with the rest or not seen at all, so without the public displays of affection it was easy to just make things look like you were just friends. It was easier this way - no worry for the public eye watching you. You could just be together and be private and be happy with that.

“Are you ready to go baby?” Drew pokes his head around the frame of the bathroom door, “Shit, you look beautiful.”

You blush underneath your makeup, “Thanks handsome.”

He comes over to you and wraps his arms around you from behind, perching his head on your shoulders so that he can look at the two of you in the mirror. He’s wearing a t-shirt and a baggy pair of Carhartt trousers with a bandana tied around his neck.

“Ready to go out and pretend to not be a couple?” You joke, placing your hands over his around your waist.

“Oh I can’t wait,” He smirks, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, “I’m getting really good at it.”

You hum and squeeze his hands, “Alright, let’s go Starkey.”

~~~

To say the festival was overwhelming would be an understatement. Everywhere you looked there was something new going on, someone new to see. You’ve met up with the rest of the cast now and it felt like a relief to be in a bubble of people that you knew so well. Drew was stood on the other side of the circle to you - with so many people around it felt like a better idea to avoid being seen constantly so close together. It might seem silly but you’d learnt to remember the little things that people could pick up on about your relationship.

“Okay I’m just saying there’s no way I’m missing Rosalia,” You shrug your shoulders, sipping down more of the drink in your hand.

“Are you kidding? That’s like the only reason you’re here isn’t it?” Austin laughs, running a hand over the sweat on his brow.

You frown a little over the top of your cup, “Obviously.”

It was burning hot here and you were sure it was making the alcohol go to your head much quicker, you could feel the buzz already and the day had barely even started.

“As long as we see Frank Ocean I’m happy,” Drew comments, looking over at you from the other side of the group, “I’ve said this a thousand times.”

You roll your eyes, “Of course we’re seeing Frank Ocean.”

Before you say anything more, you’re tapped on the shoulder and turn around to see a couple of girls coming over to you. You’re pretty sure they’re influencers of some kind but couldn’t exactly place them. Then again, wasn’t everyone here an influencer?

“Hi, (Y/N), we’re so sorry to interrupt but we just loved your new film, would it be okay for us to get a photo?” One of them smiles.

“Of course we can!” You grin, “Thanks for coming over!”

They speak to you a little about your new film and how they were so excited that the sequel had been announced.

“We literally started watching Outer Banks because you joined the cast,” One of them smiles, snapping a photo of the two of you.

“Well, I’m glad I could help,” You giggle, “You’re so sweet girls, thank you.”

“Oh, and also, you and Drew would be so cute together!” The other one squeals, before they both say their goodbyes and head off back into the mingling crowd.

You turn around back to your friends and rejoin the conversation.

“What did they say to you? I saw them looking at me,” Drew narrows his eyes in mock suspicion.

“Apparently we’d be cute together.”

“Really?” He raises his eyebrows, his face giving him the expression of pondering for a moment, “I don’t see it.”

“Me neither.”

~~~

It’s a good few hours later and… well, drinks just seem to go down easier at festivals don’t they? You hadn’t thought about it much but as the sun was starting to set and you were watching one of the later sets before curfew, you were starting to feel the buzz even more. Drew was too, and you could tell as he came over to you.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” He mumbles, dipping his head to rest on your shoulder.

“I think you might’ve mentioned it but a refresh couldn’t hurt,” You smirk, leaning your head into his.

Drew smiles lazily and turns his face towards you, kissing your neck longingly, “You’re beautiful.”

You hum, slightly ticklish against the touch, “Thank you handsome.”

With that, he puts a hand in your back pocket and turns you around to face him, his one hand catching your waist as his other still holds his cup of drink.

“Hi,” He grins, his eyes slightly glazed, just slightly.

“Hi,” You smile up at him as you put one hand on his shoulder, your opposite hand holding out your drink like his.

“I love this song,” He mumbles, not tearing his eyes away from you.

His hand guides your waist to sway with him, both of you moving in the same direction to the beat of the music. Drew mumbles along to the lyrics, his eyes brightening as he watches you dance with him. You don’t pay attention to everybody around you, or the hundreds of cameras all held up to the stage that could catch you. In this moment, the festival existed only for the two of you. His hand on your waist and yours up on his shoulder, your drinks threatening to spill over the lips of the cups. His head moves impossibly closer to you, singing along to the song as you do too.

With the start of the chorus, his hand finds yours on his shoulder and he holds it out to spin you, the tassels of your trousers twirling around as he pulls you back into him, hand back to your waist like a magnet.

And you’re sure the crowd has disappeared. It was him. It was you. It was dust kicking up and screaming choruses, it was kisses just inches away from happening and hands finding perfect place on bodies made for each other. It was everything.

The next song is slower and Drew turns you around to stand in front of him, his arms sliding underneath both of yours to wrap around you, drink still in one hand that he taps against yours in a cheers before taking another swig.

Drew sings the lyrics quietly as if meant for just your ears, swaying you back and forth as you lean your head back into his chest, breathing in the homely scent of him. You catch a glance of Austin and Madelyn stood next to you and they both clutch hands to their hearts jokingly as if you’re the perfect rom com couple.

“You two make me sick,” Austin nudges Drew’s arm and your boyfriend turns around to hit him back.

“Then be sick over Madelyn, not us,” Drew jokes, shooting a grin at his on-screen sister.

You lean back into him further, if even possible, and he tightens his hold around you, his chin perched on top of your head. You make mental note of the song - sure, in those minutes, that the conversation would come up in years to come and you’d suggest this exact song for your wedding. He’d hold you that night like he was doing now - like there was nobody else around.

~~~

You’re leaving the festival after curfew hits, thankful to be able to get away from the crowds as you follow the rest of the cast through VIP to get towards your waiting cars back to the hotel.

By now it’s late and there’s a chill running through the air. You’re walking with the group as Drew gets caught up talking to an old friend.

“He’ll catch up,” Austin rolls his eyes as the rest of you make your way out of the festival.

“I’m coming I’m coming I’m coming,” You hear from behind you, getting closer and closer as Drew’s feet pound on the dust, eventually catching up to you.

He wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, forcing you to squeal as your legs flail in front of you.

“Drew!” You exclaim, gripping onto him as he throws you over his shoulder, your face almost colliding with his back, “You’re going to drop me!”

“I’m not gonna drop ‘ya,” He laughs, gripping you tighter, “Just saving myself from you moaning about your feet hurting.”

You hit him jokingly and relax a little in his hold, waving as Madelyn gets out her phone to film the two of you. It’s then that you realise how many other cameras must be dotted around the crowds, paparazzi that would likely be posting about you and Drew in less than twelve hours. But you didn’t care. His arms were around you and you could feel yourself growing tired from the day, and it no longer mattered if people knew or not - this wasn’t changing.

[stilynskyx]

Quiet Bliss

Pope Heyward x Clueless!OC

The room was softly lit, the world outside feeling distant and far away. The smell of weed lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of the ocean drifting through the open window. Pope and Quinn were sprawled out on the couch, curled up together beneath a cozy blanket. Everything felt slow, relaxed, and soft—the kind of quiet, peaceful moment that made everything feel like it was in perfect place.

Quinn’s head was resting on Pope’s chest, her body tucked into his side. Her fingers absentmindedly traced patterns over his shirt, the rhythm slow and lazy, as if her hands couldn’t help but touch him. Pope’s fingers ran through her hair gently, occasionally brushing a strand from her face, his touch tender.

There was no need for words. The world outside seemed like a distant memory—there was only the warmth of each other’s presence, the soft hum of the music in the background, and the quiet connection they shared.

Quinn let out a soft, contented hum as she shifted slightly, pressing her lips to Pope’s neck, her kiss light and sweet. She pulled back with a small giggle, her eyes fluttering open for a second, only to close again as she snuggled closer into him. Pope smiled down at her, his fingers brushing over her cheek as she let out another happy sigh.

“Mmm,” Quinn murmured softly, her voice thick with contentment. “You’re so warm, Pope.” Pope chuckled quietly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead in response.

Quinn smiled, her face glowing with a kind of dreamy happiness. She kissed him on the chin, a quick, random peck, before nuzzling her face into his chest again, her hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders, fingers gently kneading at the fabric of his shirt. She hummed softly, the vibrations from her chest making Pope feel like he was wrapped in warmth from the inside out.

He leaned down, planting a light kiss on her temple, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Quinn sighed contentedly, her arms instinctively wrapping around him, pulling him closer. He pressed another kiss to her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his lips.

The whole room felt so calm, so perfect in its stillness. Quinn’s fingers traced over his arm, the touch light and aimless, like she was lost in the moment, feeling every inch of him. It was moments like this—no words, no expectations—that made Pope realize how easy it was to just be with her.

Quinn moved a little, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, and then another one on his neck, giggling quietly when her lips brushed against his skin. Her touch was light, full of affection, and it made his heart flutter every time she kissed him.

Pope ran his hand down her back, fingers lightly caressing the curve of her spine as he leaned in to kiss the top of her head, his lips lingering against her soft hair. “I love you,” he murmured quietly, the words spilling out without even thinking.

Quinn didn’t reply with anything more than a quiet, contented hum as she pressed closer to him, as if the moment itself said everything they needed to say. She kissed his collarbone, a soft, lingering kiss, before resting her head back against his chest.

The world outside faded further into nothingness as they sat there, quiet, the only sound between them the soft, rhythmic hums and murmurs of affection. Their bodies moved together, entwined and completely at ease with one another, and in that peaceful, touch-filled silence, Pope and Quinn knew there was nothing else they needed in that moment. Just this. Just them.

[rafeyscumangel]

John Booker Routledge who would be such the sweetest dom, especially if it’s your first time. His larger body completely covering yours while he places soft kisses to your neck. His thrusts slower as to get you used to the sensation. His ears absolutely eating up your soft moans and whines while your hands grip and nails scratched down his biceps. Whispering praises in your ear as he slowly increases his own pace. “So good f’me princess..” “Taking me so well for your first time,” “Feels good, right?”