#Rafe Cameron x you
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protective | rafe cameron
pairing - rafe cameron x gf!reader
warnings - none (maybe topper and kelce in general...)
summary - you hurt yourself. topper and kelce think it's funny until rafe immediately goes to check on you and snaps at them, shutting them up.
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laughter cuts through the room as you stumble over a pair of shoes topper had left in the doorway, immediately falling forward and colliding with the ground.
âshit, you good y/n?â topper teases, nudging kelce between chuckles.
kelce smirks, trying badly to conceal his amusement, âthat looked like it hurt.â
a blush rises to your cheeks as rafe rushes over to you, helping you up and noticing the way you wonât put any weight on one foot.
âshut up. sheâs hurt herself you assholes.â rafe snaps, keeping his hands on your hips to keep you steady.
topper and kelceâs laughter comes to a halt as they watch how soft and caring he turns within seconds. his expression shifts from annoyance to worry when his eyes meet yours again.
ârafe, baby, no iâm fine. just let me get a drink and iâll be back upstairs, promise.â you insist, wincing slightly when you stand up properly.
he shakes his head, not convinced, âdonât act like youâre not in pain sweetheart, just wanna check youâre okay.â
âbut itâs just my ankle-â
âi donât care,â rafe interrupts, âtopper get some ice or peas or something. then get your shit and leave. you too kelce.â
topperâs jaw drops slightly, really not thinking it was such a big deal. but, when it came to you, anyone who upset you or disrespected you soon became rafeâs enemies, so topper knew better than to anger his friend anymore.
a few minutes later, youâre sat on the couch while rafe kneels in front of you holding a bag of frozen peas to your ankle, soothing the pain.
âleave.â rafe reminds them, nodding his head towards the door.
âweâre going.â kelce says, holding his hands up in surrender.
you give them a smile, a way of saying âno hard feelingsâ. rafe, however, doesnât even acknowledge them until the front door closes.
âfucking assholes.â he mumbles to himself.
âhey, iâm fine. stop being so hostile.â you sass, before you lean forward to cup his cheek, âthank you for looking after me.â
his shoulders drop and his head gently nuzzles into your hand, a kiss being placed to your thumb as it runs over his lips.
âsorry,â he whispers, âjust love you too much. canât deal with you being hurt.â
âi love you, but really, iâm okay. it's just an ankle."
after confirming you âreally are okayâ, at least another ten times, rafe finally settles into the couch cushions next to you, letting you pick something to watch together.
the sun highlights the blue of his eyes when he stares down at you, loving smile adorning his face. youâre oblivious to his staring until his lips brush your hairline.
âwhat?â you ask, looking up to meet his gaze through your lashes.
âyouâre so beautiful.â
a giggle escapes you and somehow, his smile gets even bigger.
âyouâre not so bad yourself cameron.â
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey imagines#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#outer banks imagine#outer banks imagines#obx#obx season 4#rafe obx#trevor hellraiser#queer#queer drew starkey#poguelandiarafe#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x female reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x female reader
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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - EIGHT
pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy; abortion.
MASTERLIST
Topper prided himself in keeping out of peopleâs business.
He hadnât noticed anything was off with you on his own, he wouldnât have; he didnât do the whole âemotional radarâ thing.
But Rafe had practically cornered him, demanding he figure out what was going on with you.
You were his cousin, after all.Â
That didnât stop the way his stomach twisted from thinking about lying to you, or how every part of him had always silently rooted for you and Rafe. Heâd loved seeing you two together. You were a mess most days, for years, sure, but it was the kind of mess that made sense in a way, and Topper couldnât help but admire it.
You were like fire and gasoline.
But that was before the break-up, before everything got fucked.
Now, you were just⊠distant. He never knew how to approach you without feeling like he was crossing a line, but the way youâd passed out on Rafe at the beach had him worrying in a way that was more personal than he wanted to admit.
He wasnât a thinker, not really, he liked simple things: good waves, cold beer, and not getting roped into drama.
But there he was, standing outside your door with Korean fried chicken. He didnât do feelings, and he didnât do heavy conversations. Rafe owed him big for this. The conversation had been good, even when you started talking about Sarah and Ruthie.Â
Topper was all inâlaughing along, throwing in a dumb joke here and there, the usual. It felt nice, like when you were kids, sneaking your dadâs beers and pretending you werenât gonna get caught.
But then he had to go and ruin it by asking if you were okay.
You went all stiff, then weirdly far away, laughing it off like heâd just asked you to explain calculus or something. You mumbled something about being fine and then bolted to the bathroom before he could even follow up with his usual Topper-brand wisdom.
He sat there, feeling uncomfortable, which wasnât a thing he usually did. You were acting off, and it was messing with him more than he wanted to admit.
Finally, he decided he needed to move, so he got up to grab some water. Except, as he walked past the counter, his hip caught a pile of your mail, and an envelope went sliding to the floor.
âCrap,â he muttered, crouching to grab it. It was just some random envelope, but there was a phone number written on the front in messy blue ink.
Topper didnât think about itâbecause thinking wasnât really his strong suitâhe just whipped out his phone and typed it in. Curiosity, man. It got him every time.
He hit call. He wasnât trying to snoop or anything. It was just one of those things you do on autopilot, right? Call a number just to see who answers? Except this time, someone did answer.
The phone rang. Once. Twice. Then:
âWomenâs Health Center, how can I help you?â
His brain short-circuited, full-on panic mode. He stared at the phone like it had grown a second screen, then frantically hit the hang-up button just as the bathroom door creaked open.
You were back.
Topper, sweating for no reason, slapped the envelope back on the counter like it was about to explode and turned to you with a smile that definitely didnât match his pounding heart.
He got out of there as soon as possible, as he drove to meet Rafe, the whole thing was still playing on a loop in his head. That phone number, the voice on the other end of the line, the way youâd acted when heâd asked if you were okayâhe couldnât stop trying to force the pieces into place.
Something was going on, he wasn't sure what, and he wasnât exactly the guy you went to for deep insights, but he felt something was up.
When he pulled into Tanyhill, he spotted Rafe leaning against his truck, scrolling through his phone with that permanent scowl he seemed to have these days. He barely had the car in park before Rafe was pushing off the truck and heading his way.
He climbed out, doing his best to act normalâwhich, for him, meant cracking the same goofy grin he always did. His mind was still spinning with a dozen half-formed thoughts about that phone call, that clinic, and how the the fuck he might fit into all of it.Â
The only thing he knew for sure was that Rafe knowing could be catastrophic. Like, meteor-hits-earth catastrophic.
âYou gotta chill,â Topper said, slamming his car door shut and giving Rafe a once-over. âWhy do you look like youâre about to punch somebody?â
Rafe just glared, shoving his phone in his pocket. âWhatâd you find out?â
He blinked, thrown by how fast he cut to the point. âNice to see you, too. Second, what makes you think I found out anything?â
âDonât fuck with me, Top. Did you figure it out or not?â
âYeah, I figured it out,â Topper shot back, crossing his arms. âBut why the hell did you make me go through all this work if you already know whatâs going on?â
Rafe shrugged, leaning back against the truck like this was all just some casual conversation. âDidnât think youâd actually get it, to be honest.â
âBro, Iâm not that stupid. How did you get to the bottom of this shit? Iâm still confused as fuck over here.â
Rafeâs mouth twitched like he was deciding whether to smirk or yell, hesettled on neither. âShe passed out on me, remember?â
âSo?â Topper shot back, frowning. âIâve seen you pass out for, like, way less.â
âIt wasnât the same. It wasnât a hangover or heat stroke, it was different. And sheâs been weird lately, avoiding everyone.â Rafe leaned back against his truck, arms crossed, talking fast. âThe hospital did blood work.â
Topper, whoâd been zoning out halfway through his little doctor act, suddenly perked up.
âWow,â he mused, dragging the word out. âOkay. So, howâd you take the news? I mean, shit, you look pretty calm for once. Didnât think that was in your wheelhouse."
Rafe frowned, his sharp blue eyes narrowing, the crease between his brows deepening like it always did when he thought someone was wasting his time.Â
"The fuck are you talking about?â
Topper shrugged like this was totally normal. âI just expected you to, likeâŠfreak out or somethin'. Throw a punch, maybe.â
âThrow a punch about what?â Rafe snapped.
âAboutââ Topper paused, squinting at Rafe like he was trying to solve a puzzle. âWait. What are you supposed to do?â
Rafeâs hand twitched toward his jaw, fingers brushing over the stubble there, a telltale sign that he was gearing up to lose patience. He didnât wait for Topper to answer before shaking his head, the movement quick and irritated.Â
âDonât do that, man,â he added, pointing a finger âIâll help her figure it out. What else can I do?â
Topper tilted his head, genuinely impressed. âDamn. You really matured, huh? I mean, good for you.â
âTop, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?â Rafe demanded, his tone sharp now like he was finally catching on to the fact that they werenât on the same page.
Topper blinked, âIâm just saying youâre handling it better than I thought. Especially since sheâs notâuh, showing yet.â
âNot showing what?â
ââŠThe bump?â
He immediately realized heâd said the wrong thing, or maybe the right thing, but in the wrong tone, with the wrong level of context, andâokay, maybe he should just stop talking.Â
Abort mission, abort mission. Topper immediately wanted to crawl into a hole. Dude, shut up, shut up, shut up.
âWhat the fuck?â Rafeâs voice cracked; his eyes blazing as he stepped closer. âWhat bump?!â
His laugh fizzled out under Rafeâs glare, it was starting to feel less like âconcerned ex-boyfriendâ and more like âinterrogating cop.â He felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck.Â
Cool. Stay cool.
âWait,â Topper held his hands up, trying to physically stop the situation from spiraling. âWhat do you think is wrong with her?â
His brain was spinning in a way it wasnât built for. He was a simple guyâhe liked clear problems and easy fixes. But this? This was a category-five disaster, and he was stuck right in the middle of it.
Rafe let out a sharp breath through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair, the small strands sticking up in every direction.
âI think sheâs got a fucking infection! Why the hell would I think sheâs pregnant?â
Topper hesitated, glancing toward the house like maybe Sarah or Wheezie might miraculously appear to save him. No such luck.
âWell fucking shit,â Topper blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush. His heart was pounding, and he was pretty sure heâd just signed his death warrant. âIâI didnât say sheâs pregnant, okay? I found this number, and it was for a womenâs health center, andâfuck, man, Iâm dead. Iâm so dead.â
Rafe grabbed him by the collar, yanking him close. âStart talking. Now.â
âI wasnât snooping, okay? It justâhappened. I wasnât trying to get in her business, butââ
âBut what?â Rafe barked. His other hand twitched at his side, curling into a fist before flexing out again, a warning of how close Topper was to eating pavement, but Rafe wasnât the one he feared right now.
You were going to kill him.
He could already picture the look on your face when you found outâthose cold, furious eyes, the way your voice would drop, he was officially dead meat. He gulped, his mouth dry as his brain scrambled for somethingâanythingâthat wouldnât get him killed or disowned.
âYou better explain what the fuck you mean by âhappened,ââ Rafe growled, his grip tightening, giving Topperâs collar a shake, just enough to make his point clear.
Topper was done, leaving nothing but pure panic and the faint, distant sound of his voice saying things he definitely shouldnât.Â
âI called the number!â Topper yelped. âI didnât even mean to, it wasâdude, sheâs gonna kill me, and I mean that literally. She will.â
âNot if I kill you first,â Rafe shoved him back, his grip finally loosening, his face unreadable now, which was somehow worse than when heâd looked ready to punch him. âYouâre telling me you think sheâs pregnant? And you didnât remember to tell me sooner?â
âI didnât!â Topper said quickly, panic bubbling over. âItâs not like sheâs gonna tell me this kind of stuff.â
âDid she say anything to you? Anything about seeing a doctor or being sick?â
Topper shook his head so fast it made him dizzy. âI asked if she was okay, but she just brushed it off and changed the subject.â
The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, both of them staring each other down.
âNo, no way. Sheâs probably⊠I donât fucking know, changing her pill or something.â
Topper raised an eyebrow. âChanging her pill?â
âYeah,â Rafe said quickly, âOrâwhat else do they do there? Those check-up things. Maybe sheâs getting one of those.â
âUh-huh,â Topper replied, not convinced but also not dumb enough to call him out on it outright. âSure. Just a⊠routine check-up?â
âExactly,â Rafe agreed a little too loud, his tone almost defensive as he started circling again, his hands gesturing wildly. âThey donât just deal with⊠y'know. They do all kinds of shit. Tests, prescriptions, all that stuff. It doesnât mean anything.â
Topper scratched the back of his neck, his expression caught between agreement and unease. âI mean, yeah, they do other stuff⊠but donât you thinkââ
âI donât think anything, thereâs nothing to think about. Sheâs fine. Sheâsâsheâs fine.â He stopped pacing, standing rigid with his hands on his hips, glaring at the ground like it had personally offended him.
âOkay,â Topper started, his tone cautious. âI get that you donât want to jump to conclusions, butââ
âIâm not jumping to conclusions!â Rafe barked, spinning around âYouâre the one making it into something itâs not! Sheâs notâshe wouldnâtâshe hasnât told me anything,â He muttered finally, âAnd if sheâs hiding this⊠from meâŠâ
Heâd never seen Rafe like thisâangry, yeah, but there was something else there, either way, it wasnât good. His glare burned into him, but for the first time, there was hesitation behind it. He wasnât just madâhe was scared. Topper couldnât decide if that made him feel better or worse.Â
âHoly shit,â Rafe muttered, gripping the side of his truck for balance. His vision going fuzzy as his heart raced like heâd just sprinted a mile. âHoly shit, what ifâwhat if she is?â
âDude, breathe,â Topper said, stepping closer cautiously like Rafe was a live grenade. âYou donât evenââ
âEven ifâifâshe was, how the hell would that evenââ He cut himself off, his face twisting like he couldnât decide whether to finish the thought or abandon it entirely.
Topper didnât need him to finish, he understood exactly what Rafe was thinking. The timeline, the breakup, the way everything had gone down between you.
Rafeâs breath hitched as he let go of the truck and paced a few steps, his hands on his hips, muttering under his breath. âNo. No way. Itâs notâsheâd tell me, right? Sheâd fucking tell me.â
Images started flashing through his mind in rapid succession, each one more ridiculous and unhinged than the last. You, standing in some clinic, staring at a test with a blank expression. You, trying to figure out how to tell Rafe.
You, holding a babyâRafeâs babyâin your arms.
âThis doesnât make any sense. We were careful. Sheâs just stressed, girls go through shit. Hormones or whatever. Right?â
âYouâre asking me? I barely passed bio. Iâm not exactly a walking textbook onââ He stopped himself, seeing the look on Rafeâs face. âI donât know whatâs going on with her, okay? But if this is what I think it is, you gotta handle it right. Donât screw it up more than it already is.â
âAnd if I donât handle it right?â
Topper forced a shaky grin, even as his stomach twisted in knots.
âThen I guess Iâll see you in hell, man. Because sheâs gonna kill us both.â
Rafeâs hands went to his hips, his thumb brushing the edge of his pocket as he stared past Topper, he was trying to work out an equation that wasnât adding up.
âShe hasnât said a word to me,â Rafe muttered, âNot at the hospital, not since. And you thinkâŠâ He trailed off, dragging a hand over his face.Â
Topper shifted on his feet, resisting the urge to bolt to the other side of the world.
âIÂ guess, but I swear, it wasnât on purpose.â
Rafe shot him a look, his brows knitting together, and Topper felt like he was under a microscope. âYou called a random number. How does that âjust happenâ?â
He huffed, throwing his hands up. âI was grabbing some water, and her mail fell, and there was this numberâI didnât think! I just⊠acted.â He groaned, his head falling back as he stared at the sky. âI didnât mean to put two and two together, but what was I supposed to do? Youâre the one who made me go digging in the first place!â
âYou really think thatâs whatâs going on?â Rafe asked finally, his voice quieter.
âYou said sheâs acting weird, and then there was that number, andâŠâ He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.Â
âDo you even understand what this means? If sheâsâif thereâs aââ He broke off, âIâd have toâJesus Christ, what would I even do? Iâm notâGod.â
His hands gripped the edge of the truck bed so hard his knuckles turned white, the veins in his arms standing out as he glared at the ground like it had personally offended him.
âIf she didnât tell meââ His voice was low, quiet in a way that made Topper wince because he knew what came next.
âMaybe just... ask her?â
 âAsk her?â he repeated, his voice disbelieving.
âYeah, you know,â Topper said, gesturing vaguely. âTalk to her? Maybe find out whatâs going on instead of losing your shit over worst-case scenarios?â
Rafe shook his head, âNo. If she wanted me to know, sheâd tell me. Sheâs... sheâs dealing with her own stuff. Itâs not my place to push.â
 âSince when do you not push?â
âSince now,â Rafe snapped, though even he didnât sound convinced.
âRafeââ
âNo, seriously,â Rafe interrupted, his voice rising now, the tight restraint unraveling with every word. âIf sheâsâif sheâs going through this, if sheâs pregnant, and she didnât tell me?â He let out a bitter chuckle, âWhat the fuck does that say? About me.â
Topper opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. This felt like a minefield, and if anyone was good at stepping on the wrong spot, it was him.
Rafe pushed off the truck, he couldnât physically stay still. His eyes were burning as he raked a hand through his buzzed hair.
âI wasâfuck. She thinks what? That I wouldnât show up for this. She didnât tell me because she doesnât think I deserve to know.â
âThatâs not true,â Topper said quickly, stepping closer, but Rafeâs empty laugh stopped him.
âIsnât it?â Rafeâs voice was hollow now, all the fire drained out of him, turning his head slightly, just enough for Topper to see his throat working as he swallowed hard. âWhat the hell have I ever done to make her think Iâd be there? That Iâdââ He broke off. âShit. I wouldnât blame her. I can't even fucking blame her.â
âYou still care about her, right?â Topper pressed, knowing he didnât have to ask to know the answer.
Rafeâs head snapped up, âSheâs the only thing Iâve ever cared about.â
He nodded slowly, âThen prove it.â
The envelope sat exactly where youâd left it, the faintest corner of folded. You froze for a second, your pulse quickening.
No. No way.
It was fine. Fine.
The number wasnât even labeledâjust digits scrawled hastily, you hadnât touched it in days. Still, you couldnât stop the tiny seed of panic attaching itself to your chest. There was absolutely no way Topper couldâve seen it, let alone put two and two together.
You exhaled slowly, placing it back on the counter.
He didnât see it. He couldnât have seen it.
Then why had he acted so⊠off? The pale face, the sudden excuse, the jittery energyâit was all so unlike him.
You shook your head, trying to push the thought away, a million things couldâve set him off.Â
Maybe Ruthie had texted him something awful, or maybe heâd remembered he had to pick up his dry cleaning before the shop closed. Knowing Topper, it was probably something stupid and unrelated to you entirely.
Still, the nagging lingered as you cleaned up the counter and threw away the napkins. You glanced at the envelope one last time, then slid it into a drawer and shut it firmly. Whatever was going on with your cousin, it couldnât have anything to do with that. It was impossible. And yetâŠ
You sighed, rubbing your temples.Â
âPregnancy brain,â you muttered to yourself. âMaking me paranoid over nothing.â
Of course that didnât stop your heart from jumping every time the drawer creaked, or when you saw anything even remotely similar to that envelopeâs color lying around the house for the entire night. Not that heâd ask, of courseâTopper wasnât the confrontational type, especially not with you. But he noticed things. And when he noticed, he worried.
The next morning you sank onto the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest. Topper was close, but he wasnât like Sarah. She had been able to look you in the eye and say, You know Iâm here, right? and mean it without any strings attached. Topper, thoughâŠ
Your fingers itched toward your phone, even though it was stupid to call her so early over this. Still, you needed someone to remind you that you werenât losing it, that Topperâs weirdness had nothing to do with anything serious.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you found Sarahâs number, pressing the call button. She picked up on the second ring, âHey, whatâs wrong?â
You could picture her, sitting in her car or probably stretched out somewhere in Poguelandia with her feet propped up on a table, looking concerned.
âNothingâs wrong. I justâŠâ You trailed off, fiddling with the edge of a pillow.Â
âTopperâs been acting strange. And I think Iâm just overthinking it, but itâs making me crazy.â
She made a sound between a hum and a laugh. âSo the Topper panic spiral. Thatâs what weâre dealing with?â
âBasically,â you muttered, trying to keep your tone light. âBut this time⊠He was here last night, and I thought he saw this random piece of paper I had with, you know. A number on it.â You took a shaky breath, embarrassed for how paranoid you sounded. âBut he couldnât have, right? I mean, it was buried under five other things.â
âOkay,â Sarah said slowly, clearly choosing her words. âFirst, letâs just say that if he did see anything, which he probably didnât, he wouldnât assume the worst. Heâs your cousin; he knows you donât tell him everything, and he respects that. Right?â
âYeah⊠I guess.â You chewed your lip, feeling a little stupid for even calling her.  âBut what if he does put it together, Sarah? I donât know if Iâm ready for that.â
âHe wonât,â she reassured, like she could see right through your anxiety. âAnd you donât need to feel bad for wanting to keep this private. Youâre allowed to handle it however you need to. Youâre not doing anything wrong.â
You exhaled, the knot in your chest loosening a little. She always knew how to talk you down, "Okay,â you murmured, and a shaky laugh slipped out. âMaybe I'm being paranoid.â
âPregnancy brain,â she teased, and you couldnât help but smile.
You hung up feeling marginally better.
Sarah had a way of calming you down, but the uneasiness stayed with you, the way it always did when you couldnât fully explain something.
But the relief was fleeting, by lunchtime, the nagging voice in your head was back. Topper wasnât malicious, but he did have a habit of talking without thinking, and the last thing you needed was for this to get out before you were ready. Not only was this a huge scandal, but it was your business.
You busied yourself with small tasksâfolding laundry, wiping down the counters, pretending that everything was fine. It wasnât until almost noon that your phone rang. The hospitalâs number flashed on the screen, and your stomach dropped.
âHello?â
âHi, is this Miss Thornton?â the voice on the other end asked politely, too polite for comfort.
âThis is she."
âThis is Linda from the hospital. Iâm calling about your recent bloodwork. We had a bit of an issue with our system, and unfortunately, there was a delay in getting back to you. We also lost some patient information temporarilyââ
âWait, what?â you interrupted, not liking where this was going, âWhat do you mean you lost information?â
âOh, nothing to worry about,â Linda said quickly, as if that would make you feel better. âWe managed to recover most of it, but in the meantime, we had to rely on emergency contact information to reach out. Dr. Harris called yours last night.â
Your breath caught. âCalled... my emergency contact?â
âYes.â
âSarah Cameron? She didnât tell me someone called.â
âSheâs not listed as your emergency contact in our system, Rafe Cameron is. It might be an older record?â
Fuck.
Your heart was in your throat. âWhat... what did he tell him?â
âHe only left a generic message asking for you to follow up about your bloodwork. Nothing specific.â
âNothing specific,â you repeated, more to yourself than to her. Relief and panic warred within you. If Rafe knew, heâd already be there, the night before, demanding answers. Right?
âWe need you to come back in. Itâs possible you may have an infection, and we need to run a few more tests.â
You didnât even hear the rest of her explanation.
Your fingers felt numb as you mumbled something that vaguely resembled agreement and hung up.
Infection, that was what sheâd said. That was all it was. Not⊠not anything else. If it were anything else, they wouldnât have just calledâtheyâd have told Rafe.
âStop,â you muttered aloud, shaking your head. âStop spiraling.â
But your brain wouldnât listen.
âGeneric message,â Linda had said, but did it sound generic? What did he think when he got it? Had he laughed it off, or was he running his stupid pristine bedroom, piecing together clues you hadnât even realized youâd left?
You didnât want to text Sarah again.
You could imagine her smirking, âI told you, heâs not going to magically grow psychic overnight.â Yeah, sure, but this was Rafe.
He didnât need magic. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on Sarahâs voice in your head. âYouâre not doing anything wrong.â
Except it didnât feel like that. You hadnât thought about Rafe as your emergency contact in months, hadnât needed to.Â
You sank into the couch, hugging your knees to your chest.
âThis is so stupid,â you muttered, but your voice didnât make it feel any less real. You werenât even sure what you were spiraling over anymore. The envelope? The hospital? The baby?
âOkay,â you said out loud. âOkay, itâs fine. Everythingâs fine.â
The sound of your voice didnât even convince you. Your brain wouldnât stop jumping from one thing to the next, spinning every scenario you didnât want to think about.Â
What if he did know? If that was enough to set him off, to make him call someone, pull some strings...Shit, what if he did show up, and you had to explain why you were dodging everyone and keeping things from him andâstop.Â
Stop.Â
You were doing it again. The spiraling. The pregnancy brain Sarah teased you about like it was some sort of cute quirk, but wasnât cute.
You sat up straight, squeezing the couch pillow so hard you thought it might burst. Breathe. Just breathe, youâd made it this far without imploding.
You glanced toward the drawer again, the one with the envelope. You shouldâve burned it, shredded it first. No, you had to keep itâjust in case. But just in case of what? Just in case you needed more reasons to feel like a lunatic.
Oh my god. What if Topper saw the stupid number, and then Rafe got the hospital call, and thenâbamâsuddenly, they had the whole damn thing figured out?
You could feel it alreadyâthe panic. You liked to think they were both too stupid for their own good, but they were also observant. Rafe, that bastard always knew how to put things together faster than anyone.Â
What ifâwhat if itâs that simple for them? What if they both saw it, and then they were just sitting there, having some stupid-ass conversation, connecting dots you didnât even realize were dots?
No. Stop. Stop thinking like that.
You were getting carried away, jumping to conclusions like some manic soap opera character. You werenât that girl. Not really. But the thought of them talkingâTopper with his concern and Rafe with his overbearing intensity.
Your fingers tapped a frantic rhythm against the pillow. The idea of him figuring it out? Oh, that made your skin crawl. Not because heâd be cruelâno, that wasnât his style. Heâd just be soâŠÂ himself.
Overwhelming, determined to âfixâ things for you, even when you didnât ask for it.Â
You groaned, dropping the pillow and standing abruptly, like the movement might kill the growing dread. No, you told yourself firmly.
You werenât spiraling over things that hadnât even happened yet.
But the voice in your head, the one that always sounded a little too much like Rafe, had other plans:Â What if itâs already too late?
You paced the living room, arms crossed tightly over your chest. This was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Nothing had happened, nothing was going to happen. The number wasnât even that suspicious, it couldâve been anything.
You groaned again, flopping onto the couch like the dramatic mess you were currently embodying. Rafe had probably gotten the hospital call, rolled his eyes without a second thought, too busy with his new precious life.
Your stomach churned, and you pressed your hands against it instinctively. It wasnât showing yetâthank godâbut you couldnât help the way your mind spiraled back to it, to all the ways this could go wrong.
You grabbed your car keys without thinking, maybe it would clear your head. A driveâthatâs what you needed. Get out of the house, and put some distance between you and the stupid envelope, the phone calls, all of it. You turned the knob, yanked the door openâ
âand froze.
Rafeâs hand was raised mid-air, clearly about to knock. You didnât even try to hide the way your breath hitched.Â
Oh, no. No, no, no.
Standing there on the porch like he hadnât just derailed your entire plan. As if it was still perfectly normal for him to show up unannounced, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other gripping his phone, his head tilted in a maddeningly familiar way.
His hand hovered uncertainly on the doorframe as you stepped back, your arms folding protectively over your chest. He didnât push past you, didnât move his weight forwardâjust stood there.
He glanced down at the spare key still in his hand, turning it over like he was considering whether he even had the right to use it. âThey called me last night.â
Okay, he was just here because of the hospital, a coincidence, thatâs all it was.
âAnd? You couldâve ignored it.â
His hand flexed at his side like he didnât know what to do with it. âI thought something might be wrong.â
âItâs not.â Your voice was clipped, cold. âThey called the wrong number. End of story.â
He didnât rise to the bait.
âI thoughtââ He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. âI thought you were sick.â
âLike I said, it was a mix-up.â
His jaw ticked. That tiny muscle in his cheek twitched, the one that always flared when he was suspicious.
âFunny, they didnât sound mixed up when they said your name,â he drawled, his tone probing. âWanna try again?â
âMind your fucking business,â Your voice was defensive, and you hated the crackle of guilt in your chest when he flinched. âI donât need you to pretend to care. Why are you even here?â you snapped, taking a step back. The space between you felt vulnerable. âDonât you have someone else to worry about?"
You felt cornered with every second he stood there.
âWe need to talk.â
Maybe if you acted calm, like nothing was wrong, heâd stop looking at you like that. Vulnerability wasnât something you were good at, heâd already taken too much. He always took too much.
âI donât owe you shit. Not explanations, not answers, nothing. Leave.â
He didnât. Of course, he didnât.
Rafe didnât know how to let shit go, not when it came to you, he didnât back away.
âYouâre right,â he said, surprising you. âYou donât, but Iâm not leaving until we talk.â
The way he said, it wasnât even a threat. It was worse than that. It was calm, resolute, like heâd already decided, and nothing you said or did could change it.Â
That scared you more than anything.
âThereâs nothing to talk about,â you hissed, âWhatever you think you know, you donât.â
He arched an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to the edge of the couch where your phone still sat, âYou sure about that?â
âGod, youâre always like this. Always overstepping, always assumingââ
âIÂ know."
All the noise in your headâyour spiraling thoughts, your excuses, your endless denialsâwent silent, except for the way your heart thudded in your chest, so fast, it hurt. He hadnât raised his voice, but those two words hit you like a kick to your chest.
No, he couldnâtâhe didnât, he was bluffing, he had to be. Air caught in your throat, and for a moment, you thought you might choke on it. He didnât move, didnât repeat himself. He couldnât know.
Your tongue went dry.Â
âWhat are you talking about?â You couldnât breathe. It felt like someone was squeezing your chest. You shook your head again, more violently this time, stepping back, âYou donât know shit.â
âI think I do.â His voice was quiet, and that made it worse, it wasnât cold or angry; it wasnât even accusing. He didnât sound like he wanted to be right, he just sounded tired.
You prayed to come up with somethingâanythingâto deflect, to deny, to keep the truth buried where it belonged.Â
âYouâre delusional,â you took another step back, putting more space between you and the man who had always known you too well.
He just shook his head, âYou donât have to lie to me, youâre scared, youâre not even trying to hide it.â
It was the way he stared with those stupid blue eyes, he was peeling back your layers. He always did that, made you feel like he could see something in you that you werenât ready to acknowledge.
âOh, fuck off.â You threw your hands up. âYou donât know shit about what Iâm feeling. Youâve got no right toâIâm not lying.â
It still hurt how much you missed him, hurt to even look at him.
âDonât pull this cryptic bullshit with me, if youâve got something to say, say it.â
âYouâre pregnant, arenât you?â
The thing youâd been running from, denying, hiding, you simply stared at him, trying to decide if there was any way to lie your way out of this.
âWhat the fuck are you talking about?â You tried to laugh, but it came out strangled, desperate. âT-Thatâs insane. Youâve lost your mind.â
Rafe wasnât gloating or triumphantâhe just looked⊠resigned, heâd pieced it together before he showed up.
âDonât do that. Donât lie to me, not about this.â
You wanted to scream, to shove him, to do anything that would make him stop looking at you like he cared. Like he knew you. Because if you stopped long enough to think about it, you knew it was over.
Heâd already seen it.
âI mean it, Rafe.â Your hand tightened on the door, nails digging into the wood. âGet the fuck out of my house.â
God, this was so fucked. You wanted him gone, but wanted him here, needed him to leave you alone, but at the same time, you hated that he could just leave.
âTell me Iâm wrong.â
You thought about what heâd do if he knewâreally knew. Not just the vague sense he had now, but the details. Would he try to stop you?Â
Your lip quivered, and you hated yourself for it. âYouâre wrong.â
You stared at him, at the way his shoulders hunched slightly, his usual confidence worn down. You hated him for being calm for once in his fucking life, for being here, for not letting this slide when it was none of his fucking business.
âAm I?â
Your hands clenched tighter, nails biting into your palms. âWhy? Why do you even care? Itâs not like youââ
âBecause itâs mine.â
Your breath hitched again, and this time, you couldnât hide it. You wanted to deny it, to throw somethingâhell, anythingâback at him to make him shut the fuck up. But your throat felt like it had shut off entirely, and your mind had gone blank.
âIââ you stammered, shaking your head violently, âNo. You donât know what youâre talking about. Youâreââ
âHey, hey, justâjust stop,â he said, his voice careful, as if he was trying not to spook you. âIâm notâJesus, Iâm not here to fight with you, okay? Iâm not here to make this harder.â
Your chest heaved, a bitter laugh escaping before you could stop it. He was too lateâlate to care, late to help, late to fix anything. Five days, thatâs all you had to get through.
Five days until you didnât have to think about it anymore.Â
This is the right choice, you told yourself for the hundredth time. You couldnât bring a baby into this mess.
âYouâre doing a hell of a job at that.â
âI just want to help. If you let meââ
âNo,â you interrupted, grabbing the edge of the door. âIâm fixing it.â
âFixingâ?â Rafeâs brow furrowed, his confusion almost comical He started to step forward, but you stopped him with a resentful glare that made him stop. âWhat does that even mean?â
âIt means you can take your fake concern and shove it up your ass.â
His brow furrowed. âItâs not fakeââ His face twisted in confusion, mouth opening like he was about to argue, but you didnât give him the chance, slamming the door in his face, so hard the frame rattled.
âOf course. Of course, itâs mine,â you muttered to yourself, mocking his stupid, self-righteous tone.
You leaned back against the door, sliding to the floor, arms crossed over your knees as your brain whirred like it was trying to kill you.
It wasnât like you had a choice.
Technically, you did, but what were you supposed to do? Keep it and become a tragic sob story? The words almost felt like youâd ripped them out of someone elseâs mouth, right or wrong didnât even matter anymore. There wasnât space in your life for thisâfor him, for a baby, for any of it.
A muffled knock sounded from the front doorâtentative, like he was giving you a moment.
âGo away,â you yelled, your voice hoarse.
âOpen the door.â
Your thoughts taunted you with memories and possibilities you didnât want to entertain. The way Rafe had looked at youâlike he knewâit was unbearable.
How had he put it together? Maybe you'd slip up in tiny ways, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow. You hated yourself for being so careless, despised him even more for being so fucking relentless.
You wiped your cheeks roughly, not realizing youâd started crying until your sleeve came back damp.
âPlease, just open the door. We can talkâjust talk, okay?
âNo,â you muttered to the empty room. âNo, Iâm not doing this.â
You squeezed your eyes shut, leaning your head back against the door and pressing your hands over your ears to block him out.Â
âDonât shut me out like this,â he begged. âI canâtâfuck, I canât stand it when you do this. Just open the door. Five minutes, thatâs all Iâm asking.â
He had a key. If he wanted to, he could let himself in at any moment, but he didnât, that wasnât the Rafe you were used to.
Before, he'd have barged right in, shouted until your ears bled, and demanded answers. He wouldâve tried to fix it or destroy it, maybe both.Â
You hated that he still acted like he cared, that he was trying to be so fucking reasonable now, when just a few months ago, he wouldâve lost it, broken through any barrier to get what he wanted.
This was worse, this Rafe was wearing you down.
Another hushed plea made it through the door, but all you could think was how thin the wood felt, how it barely drowned the sound of his voice. A new door might be better, something heavier, more solid, that could drown out everythingâthe desperation, the crack in his voice.
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you bit hard on the inside of your cheek to keep them from falling.Â
âI know youâre scared,â he continued, âAnd I know you think Iâll screw this upâGod knows I probably will. But please donât keep me in the dark. Just tell me whatâs going on.â
You pictured flipping through hardware store catalogs, weighing your options: oak? steel? soundproofing foam?
âPlease,â Rafe whispered, and the rawness in his voice scraped against you like nails on a chalkboard. You tilted your head back against the door, willing yourself not to cry again.Â
Steel doors donât warp as easily as wood.
You swallowed hard, your body aching as you fought the sob threatening to escape. He didnât deserve thisâdidnât deserve to sound so wrecked over you. He'd done this to himself.
Your fingers twitched against the door handle, the temptation to open it curling around you, but instead, you thought about bolts.
Deadbolts, a second lock could work, something he couldnât get through even if he had the key.
His voice wavered again, you thought he might start crying, too, yet all you did was glance at the base of the door. A better seal would muffle the noise more. Maybe weatherstripping? That could help.
You pressed your hands tighter over your ears, as though it would help. It didnât. Nothing wouldânot until you replaced the lock, the door, the memory of him standing there and breaking himself open for you.
God, you really needed a new doorâand a new heart.
One that didnât twist at the sound of his voice, that didnât flinch every time he called your name like it was a prayer. A heart that didnât feel for him, you told yourself, over and over, like a mantra. If you could just stop the way your chest tightened at his pleas, stop the ache in your ribs when he said he couldnât let this go.
You wanted steel walls, that could keep everything outâhis voice, his touch, the memories of all the good parts of him that had kept you hanging on for so long. Because of this heart? It was useless, too soft, too easily swayed, still willing to believe him, even when you knew better.
âPlease, just talk to me,â Rafe begged. You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood.
You couldnât help but wonder if this calmness came from Sofia.
Perhaps she was the reason heâd changed, maybe she had somehow made him different, had softened the sharp edges of the guy you used to know. She was calm, collectedânothing like you. It hurt like a bitch, the thought that someone else could make him this patient. You wondered if sheâd taught him how to handle his emotions, how to be this wayâheâd learned some secret he never bothered to share with you.
You couldn't let yourself go there, couldn't let the bitterness of that thought settle in your mind for too long.
âTalk to me.â
No. Not this time.
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HEARTBREAK: LIVE | 43
All | MASTERLIST (SMAU)
Pairing â Ex-BF!Rafe x Radio Host!Female Reader
Summary â You and Rafe were the perfect couple. But after a mysterious breakup, you went off the grid. When your best friends pulls you back into the spotlight to host a on-campus radio show, you find yourself opening up to the world about your experience. This time, with everyone listeningâincluding Rafe. And him? He wants you back.
Content â college au, football player!rafe au, pregnancy (discussions of abortion, fears, etc.)
Navigation â Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44
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Zya's Post Notes: Haha, you thought.
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What's ours || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: canon fic based off this scene in s4 ep6!!!!
Warnings: angst!!!
Word count: 2, 458
A/n: HAD to write abt this scene
MASTERLIST
divider by @h-aewo
"Rafey?" your voice rings out as you step out of the shared bedroom, the soft sound of your bare feet padding against the wooden floor. "'M out here on the porch," his voice calls back, low and calm, carrying just a hint of warmth. A smile spreads across your lips as you pick up your pace, excitement bubbling in your chest. Sliding the glass door, you step onto the porch, the late afternoon sunlight casting a golden glow across everything it touches.
There he is, lounging casually on the couch, his polo clinging to his broad shoulders and biceps in a way that makes your stomach flutter. "Hey, baby," Rafe greets, his smile wide and genuine, the kind that always has a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room. "Hey," you murmur, your eyes locking with his. You pause for a moment, giving him the chance to drink in the sight of you.
With a playful glint in your eye, you do a small twirl, letting the flow of your new dress spin out around you, the fabric catching the evening light. You watch Rafeâs reaction carefully, feeling a thrill at how his gaze moves down your figure. "What do you think?" You ask, the words soft but full of a quiet confidence. "It looks good," Rafe says after a beat, his eyes lingering on you for a fraction longer than you expect.
Thereâs a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his lips, and when he leans back against the cushions of the couch, his eyes never leave you. "You look good," he adds, his voice deeper now, like the words are heavy with more than just praise. You beam at his words, crossing the porch to close the distance between you. "Where you going lookinâ all pretty?" he teases, spreading his legs slightly as he pats his thighs, his grin turning sly.
The gesture is an open invitation, and you happily accept, settling onto his lap. Your arm slides naturally around his shoulders, and his hands find their place on your knee, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "Just shopping with the girls," you explain, playing with the collar of his shirt absentmindedly. "There's this new boutique that just opened upâ" Youâre cut off by the sound of the front door creaking open and a hesitant voice calling out, "Hello?"
Your brows furrow as you glance at Rafe. "Were you expecting someone?" you ask, your voice laced with curiosity. Rafe exhales a sharp breath, "Yeah," he admits nonchalantly. "Sarah." Your surprise is instant, and your voice reflects it. "Sarah? She agreed to meet up with you?" He chuckles, the sound warm and a little cynical. "Yeah, well⊠desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess." Before you can process his words, Sarahâs footsteps sound on the porch, slow but deliberate.
Your eyes shift to the doorway, and soon enough, her figure appears. She glances at you briefly as you move to sit beside Rafe, her gaze cool but not unfriendly, before turning her attention to Rafe. "Hey," he greets her with exaggerated enthusiasm, clapping his hands together with theatrical flair. "Thanks for showing up. Good work." Sarah doesnât miss a beat, rolling her eyes as if sheâs heard this act too many times. "Please, stop," she says flatly.
Rafe grins even wider, running a hand through his buzzed hair, clearly enjoying the reaction. You shift slightly, about to stand to give them space, but Rafeâs hand tightens gently on your waist, silently urging you to stay. "I donât want to argue, Rafe," Sarah sighs, crossing her arms as she looks at him. Her tone is exasperated, but thereâs something softer beneath it. "We already have enough people against us."
An awkward silence settles over the porch, the only sound being the occasional chirping of birds in the trees. The air grows heavy with the weight of unspoken things, a tension that seems to hum between them. You clear your throat, trying to ease the tension. "Can I get you something to drink? Iced tea, maybe?" you offer, your voice polite, even as your eyes flicker between Sarah and Rafe, sensing the undercurrent of frustration.
Sarahâs eyes meet yours, her gaze flicking over the space with an almost detached interest before she shakes her head. "No, thanks. I donât plan on staying long." You nod, the smile on your lips soft but understanding. Thereâs something about the way she holds herselfâtired, waryâthat makes you feel a strange sense of empathy. Itâs clear sheâs not here for pleasantries.
"Kiara mentionedâŠ" Sarah starts, her voice uncertain as she scans the porch, her eyes flitting from the furniture to the surroundings, clearly uncomfortable. "That you might be able to help." She directs the latter half of her sentence at Rafe, her gaze lingering on him, but thereâs a hesitation in her tone, a quiet pleading buried beneath the words. Rafe pulls at the sleeve of his polo, his fingers tugging at the fabric.
He doesnât look up immediately but instead turns his attention to the ground in front of him, gathering his thoughts. "Uh, no. No, not with the land stuff. You guys are on your own with that," he responds firmly, his gaze briefly flicking up to meet Sarah's. There's an almost apologetic edge to his words, but it's clear that he's drawing a hard line in the sand. Sarahâs expression falls, disappointment flashing across her face, her shoulders sagging slightly as if the weight of unspoken words is pulling her down.
"Right," she mutters softly, the edge of frustration in her voice barely concealed. She pauses, taking a breath before looking back at Rafe. "Sorry," Rafe adds, his voice quieter, almost regretful, but the frustration is still evident. "ButâŠ" He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the papers scattered across the table before him, the flicker of something heavier passing through his eyes.
"But there's⊠there's something else I wanted to talk to you about," he says, his tone shifting. Itâs not just business nowâthereâs a vulnerability that creeps in, something raw beneath the surface. You watch him, your eyes tracing the subtle movements of his hand as he runs his fingers across his lips, trying to gather the right words. You stay silent, your own gaze fixed on his profile, your heart picking up pace as you sense the shift in the air.
This is no longer just a casual conversationâit feels more like a breaking point, something much deeper. "So whenâŠ" Rafe starts, his voice faltering slightly, the words coming out with an almost painful deliberation. He takes a moment, his eyes lingering on the papers again, then he looks down at your left hand resting on his shoulder, his gaze momentarily softening when it lands on the ring you wearâthe one his mother gave him.
"Dad died," he finally says, the words coming out like a slow exhale, as if speaking them is harder than heâd like to admit. You feel the change in his tone immediately, the sadness in his voice gripping you, and you instinctively start rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder with your thumb, your mind connecting the dots, knowing how touchy the subject of Wardâs death always is for Rafe.
"...the first time," Rafe adds, his voice quiet, as though even acknowledging that death was not the final one is too painful to process fully. "um, he said I got a quarter of what he had," Rafe continues, his voice distant now, lost in the past as he leans forward, flicking through the papers with a focus that feels almost obsessive. "Yeah, he said I got a quarter too," Sarah chimes in, nodding slowly.
Thereâs something tired in her voice, a recognition of the weight of their fatherâs legacy that neither of them ever truly asked for. "But you didnât get it, did you?" Rafeâs words are sharp, his gaze intense as it locks onto Sarah. Thereâs a challenge in his eyes, a quiet demand for the truth. Sarah hesitates for a moment, the silence stretching longer than it should. You can see her thinking, weighing her words carefully before answering.
"No," Sarah says finally, her voice quiet but firm. "Yeah, well, good luck trying to get that from Rose's greedy paws," Rafe scoffs, the bitterness dripping from his words. "She's got that money locked down tight." Sarahâs brows knit together, "well, I keep trying to call," she retorts, her tone sharp. "She wonât even let me talk to Wheezie." She crosses her arms, her gaze flickering away as if saying it out loud makes the situation even more real.
Rafe leans forward, his elbows digging into his knees as his expression hardens. "Yes, yes, thatâs what Iâm saying," he says, his voice rising slightly. He locks eyes with Sarah, a fiery determination in his blue gaze. "Weâre a family, and Iâm notâ" He cuts himself off, inhaling deeply as he shakes his head. "Iâm not even allowed to talk to my own sister? Thatâs not fair, Sarah. You know that."
Sarahâs jaw tightens, and she slowly nods, her lips pressed together as she looks down. "And then Rose," Rafe continues, his arm gesturing wide as his frustration boils over. "She just gets to keep all that gold for herself? What gives her the right? Thatâs not what Dad intended." His fist slams into the wooden coffee table with a resounding thud, causing Sarah to flinch in her seat. The tension spikes in the air, and you instinctively place your hand on his shoulder, your touch firm yet gentle, hoping to ground him.
"Thatâs not what Dad wanted," Rafe repeats, his voice cracking slightly as he pounds the table again. Sarah visibly recoils this time, her discomfort palpable. "And it pisses me off!" Rafeâs voice rises, his anger spilling out unchecked. But before his hand can connect with the table a third time, you reach forward and grab it, your fingers curling around his. "Rafe," you say softly, your voice calm but firm. His eyes dart to you, and for a moment, the fire in them dims.
He exhales sharply, leaning back slightly as he glances at Sarah, who keeps her gaze down, avoiding his. "Thatâs our money, okay?" Rafe insists, his tone quieter but still edged with frustration. Sarah lets out a shaky exhale, her hands fidgeting in her lap as Rafe sighs heavily, running a hand over his buzzed hair. The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable, until you place your palm on Rafeâs thigh, your thumb brushing soothingly against the fabric of his shorts.
He glances at you, and you offer him a small, reassuring smile. He manages a faint one in return before looking back at Sarah. "I donât know about you, but I reallyâI need that money," Rafe admits, his voice tinged with vulnerability. Sarahâs gaze snaps to him, her expression hardening. "And what about the gold cross you stole?" she counters, her tone sharp and accusatory.
"It was gold-plated," Rafe shoots back with a shrug, rubbing his eyes as if the conversation is draining him. "It was a good score. Itâs not endless. Itâs not like the Merchant gold, so..." His voice trails off, exhaustion creeping in. "Iâm so sorry to hear that," Sarah says, her words laced with sarcasm. Rafe exhales through his nose, standing abruptly, "I don't know. I was just thinking, um." Both you and Sarah track his movements as he walks to the porch railing, gripping it tightly before turning to face her.
"You know, you and me," he starts, gesturing between them, "we try to get Wheezie back." Sarahâs eyes narrow in disbelief. "How?" she asks, her voice flat, as if sheâs waiting for him to say something ridiculous. "I donât know, but..." Rafe admits, pacing back to the table. He moves the glass in front of him before perching on the edge, leaning closer to Sarah. His proximity makes her shift uncomfortably, but she doesnât move away.
"And then we try to get the money back," Rafe continues, his voice steady and resolute. You can see the determination etched into his features, the way his jaw sets and his eyes gleam with a fervour you know all too well. He pauses, his gaze fixed on Sarah. "Which is why we need to work together," he says, his tone almost pleading now. "Just like Dad taught us. We align our interests." Sarahâs lips press into a thin line, her eyes fixed on the table as Rafe quietly watches.
"I just thought, you and me," Rafe begins again, his voice softer. "We can get back whatâs ours." Thereâs a beat of silence, the weight of his words hanging between them. Sarah bites her lip, her gaze darting to Rafe, then away again. "Look, Iâm trying hereâ" Rafe says, but Sarah cuts him off, rising to her feet abruptly. "No," she says firmly, shaking her head. "Iâm sorry."
She turns and strides off the deck, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoing behind her. You stand, moving to where Rafe is still perched on the table, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing gently as he lets out a frustrated groan. "Canât she see that Iâm trying?" he mutters, his voice laced with annoyance. "Like seriouslyâ" "Shh," you murmur, your thumbs massaging the tense muscles in his shoulders.
"I know, baby. I know youâre trying." You move to stand in front of him, slotting yourself between his legs as he rests his forehead against your stomach. Your manicured fingers run through his buzzed hair, the rhythmic motion calming him as he exhales deeply. "When will she realise that weâre on her side here?" he whispers, his voice tinged with despair.
"You just have to give her time," you reply softly, your fingers stilling for a moment. "She wants to trust you, but she canât just yet, Rafe." He tilts his head to look up at you, his blue eyes glassy. "Iâve already lost Dad," he says quietly, his voice cracking. "I donât want to lose herâI donât want our family to fall apart." Your heart clenches at the raw vulnerability in his tone. You cradle his face gently, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones as you hold his gaze.
"Listen to me, Rafe," you say, your voice steady and full of conviction. "You wonât lose Sarah, and your family wonât fall apart." His lips press into a thin line, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "How can you be so sure?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just know," you reply softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "Because I believe in you."
#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron#drew starkey#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#drew starkey x reader#obx fanfiction#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron canon fics#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron angst#outerbanks x reader#outerbanks x you#obx x reader#obx x you#obx x y/n
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My Drug is My Baby
âȘthe one where you and rafe canât keep your hands off each other during your honeymoon.
Warnings: kook rafe/pogue reader, swearing, fluff (barely), smut, unprotected sex, semi-public smut, slight exhibition kink, hair pulling, dirty talk, size difference/kink, cock warming i think, spanking (whoops), rafeâs an ass man, i said what i said, heâs also a dom, bc obviously. (all iâve been thinking about lately is rafe, so iâm doing something about it, yw).
Word Count: 2.5k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine âĄ
Rafe never thought heâd be one to get his life in order or find a nice girl to settle down with and get married to, but here he is in a stunning (and very expensive) resort in Florida with you by his side.Â
Wrapped around your finger were two rings, one holding a large, heavy diamond, and the other being a simple wedding band. âSimpleâ, yet it was embedded with smaller diamonds.Â
Around Rafeâs finger was a gold band that showed every girl at this resort who gave him the âfuck meâ eyes how committed he is to you and only you, and how they could waste their time all they want. Heâd be a fucking idiot to ever let you go.Â
It was kind of crazy to think that less than a year ago, you were just another Pogue and he was a Kook who vowed to never do more than sleep with someone who was much less privileged than he was, but now he is married to you. Really, the standards of the society pretty much flew right out the window the second he saw you.Â
You were drop dead gorgeous, the most beautiful girl Rafe had ever seen. And though his friends told him to not waste his time with someone like you, Rafe was really fucking glad that he promptly ignored them and got you to go on a date with him, because less than four months after that date, you were engaged, and only five months later, you were married.Â
And now you were on your honeymoon and even more clingy and touchy than ever. Rafe never thought of himself as a very touchy person, but with you, he wanted to touch you all the time. Holding your hand in stores or on the street, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind when standing in lines, having his arm draped around your shoulders while sitting on the couch, or placing his hand on your thigh while in a car.Â
Right now, he was leaning back on a pool lounger with you in his arms, your back pressed against his bare chest as his fingers traced random shapes onto the skin of your stomach. For some reason, ever since that first date, Rafe couldnât seem to keep his hands off you. You were so much smaller than him, but you fit perfectly against him, he couldnât help but want to touch you everywhere all the time.Â
He had fallen so in love with you in so little time, he wasnât sure if the honeymoon phase would ever end. And honestly, he didnât want it to.
The sun was beating down on the both of you, but the breeze from the empty, still pool helped keep you from overheating. You sighed quietly, leaning more against him as you closed your eyes, the sun still very bright even through your sunglasses. âItâs so pretty here, Rae,â you mumbled, turning your head to place a soft kiss to his heated skin. âMakes me want to never leave. I want to stay right here, with you, for the rest of my life.â
That sounded amazing to Rafe, and he wouldnât mind starting every morning exactly like this for the next week. Heâd gone all out on both the wedding and the honeymoon, spending a pretty penny on them to ensure youâd have the best experience during both events. The room you were staying in was huge, and it has a huge bed that Rafe had fucked you in for a solid hour on your first night here.
He couldnât help it and he couldnât be blamed. You were his wife now. You were all his. Â
Rafe laughed, the deep sound vibrating your back as his breath tickled the shell of your ear. âIâd be more than willing to stay right here if you want to spend the rest of your life on top of me,â he teased, his fingers dipping lower to brush against the inside of your thigh. âWeâve got a whole week ahead of us, baby. A week of doing nothing but this all day. And youâre looking really fucking hot right now.â His other hand moved to grope your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple through the thin fabric of your bikini top as his lips found your pulse point and kissed it gently.Â
âRae,â you laughed quietly, pressing your thighs together as you leaned back against him more firmly, your sunglasses sliding down your nose until you just decided to take them off. âWeâre in publicâŠyou canât say that to me.â Your words were a feeble attempt at teasing him, because he had rented the room that came with the private pool and patio. No one was around to hear you, let alone see you.Â
Rafe smirked, licking and sucking at your neck before he lifted his head, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. âI can say whatever the fuck I want to my wife,â he murmured into your ear, his hand sliding back up your thigh until his fingers grazed the edge of your bikini bottoms. His teeth gently tugged at your earlobe as his hand slid beneath the red fabric, his lips curving when he heard your sharp inhale. âAre you forgetting that this place belongs to us for the next eight days? No oneâs around to see my pretty girl get all needy for me.â
âRafe,â you whined, biting down on your lip as you arched your back and subtly spread your thighs a bit wider. You turned your head again and pressed your face against the side of his neck, brushing soft kisses along his skin. âGod, youâre so hot, baby.â
Rafe groaned, his cock starting to harden as his fingers slid through your slick folds. âMmm, youâre so wet for me,â he mumbled, his middle finger dipping inside your wet heat before he pulled it back out and brought it up to his lips for a taste. âSo fucking good, baby.â
He leaned in and kissed you deeply as his hands gripped your hips, turning you on his lap so youâre properly straddling him. Slowly, he guided you to grind against him, the outline of his cock evident through the dark fabric of his trunks.Â
âRide me, pretty girl,â he rasped against your mouth, his fingers playing with the thin strings of your bikini on either side of your hips. One pull, and your lower half would be bare, and the thought was becoming more and more appealing to him the longer you moved on top of him.Â
âLike this?â You asked, already breathless as you caressed his face in your hands, your clothed pussy rubbing against his cock through the fabric of his shorts.Â
Rafe groaned, tipping his head back on the chair. âExactly like that, baby,â he muttered, his hands gripping your ass as he guided you to move a bit faster. âJust like that.â
The rough fabric of his swimming trunks brushed deliciously against your clit, making you moan a bit louder and brace your hands on his shoulders for more support.Â
You were so hot, Rafe couldnât believe that you were all his. The sexy, shameless woman riding his lap in public was all his.Â
âFuck, you feel so good,â he muttered, leaning up and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue brushed against yours, one of his hands tangling in your hair as he bucked up against you. He broke the kiss, his head dropping onto your shoulder as he grunted, âI need to be inside you, baby. Right now.âÂ
With that, he wrapped his arms under your thighs and lifted you as he stood up, carrying you towards the sliding doors that lead back into the suite. You squealed, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist as you peppered kisses along his neck. âYou love me so much,â you teased, nuzzling your nose behind his ear as he slid the door closed behind him, not bothering to close the curtains as he walked over to the bed and pulled at the strings of your bikini bottoms, letting the damp fabric fall to the floor.Â
âYeah, I fucking do,â he agreed, giving your ass a firm squeeze before tossing you onto the king sized bed. You bounced a bit as you tried to steady yourself, a needy whine of excitement leaving your lips. âGet on your knees for me, baby.â
When you quickly turned around and braced yourself up on your hands and knees, Rafe stepped towards the bed, one of his hands running along the length of your spine. His other hand came down onto your ass, giving it a sharp smack that made a loud moan slip past your lips.Â
God, you were so fucking sexy and so perfect for him, Rafe would never get enough. âThatâs for getting me so addicted to you,â he mumbled before pulling at the strings of his shorts and pushing them down his legs. He propped one knee up on the bed next to yours, keeping one foot planted firmly on the floor as gripped your waist. âYouâre so perfect, arenât you? My perfect girl.âÂ
Rafe gripped the base of his cock with one hand, running his length along your wet folds before bumping his tip against your clit a few times. âRae,â you whined, clearly getting more and more riled up from his teasing.Â
He smirked before guiding himself inside you, your soaked walls making him slide in with ease. Rafe groaned, his teeth sinking into his lip as he refrained from railing you like he wanted to. âFuck, youâre tight,â he muttered, his palm soothing your reddening skin from his previous smack.Â
When he pulled back nearly all the way and then slid right back in, you let out a loud moan, your hands fisting the sheets of the unmade bed. âFuck,â you whimpered, your head falling forward as he began to slowly fuck you from behind.Â
âThatâs it, baby,â Rafe grunted, moving his hips in slow, deep thrusts as he pulled at the string of your top, making the fabric hang loosely from your neck before you tugged it off and tossed it aside carelessly.Â
He leaned down and pushed your hair to the side so he could press open mouthed kisses to the back of your neck, one of his hands reaching around to squeeze your breast. His grip on your waist tightened as he increased the pace, the soft slap of skin on skin filling the room as he began to pound into you.Â
âFuck, you feel so good. So wet and tight for me,â he panted, leaning over you as he changed the angle just slightly. Your moans grew louder, your arms shaking a bit as his cock reached even deeper inside you, making his lips turn upwards in a smug smirk. âYou like that, pretty girl? You love being stuffed full of me, donât you?â
Rafeâs mouth was filthy both in and out of the bedroom, something he knew you loved, and that was very obvious from the way you clenched around him and got even louder. âYes,â you answered, your body jolting forward with every deep thrust. âFuckâŠyes.â
It was hard to believe that ten minutes ago, you were simply in his arms by the pool, and now here you are, on your hands and knees for him as he railed you from behind, your body completely bare for his greedy eyes and hands. His perfect little wife.
âFuck, listen to those pretty noises youâre making,â he grunted, his hand gripping your waist tightly as he guided you back onto his cock. You were so tight, he could literally see the way your walls hugged him and took him in so deep every time he entered you, and the sight had his abs tensing as he groaned loudly. His free hand slid up your back until he had a fistful of your hair, and he tugged your head back just enough for you to feel it but not hard enough to hurt you.Â
The bed, though sturdy, clearly wasnât prepared for the rough fucking Rafe planned to give you every day for the next week since it creaked with every thrust, and he briefly wondered just how many honeymoonâs this suite had seen, and how many horny newly-weds this bed had fallen victim to.Â
One thing he knew for sure was that you were the prettiest bride that had ever and will ever stay in this room, and he was one lucky fucker.Â
When he gave your hair a sharp tug, you let out a whiny moan and clenched around him again, and Rafe knew you were close. âYeah, thatâs it. Cum for me, baby,â he rasped, speeding up even more until you were mumbling and moaning incoherently as your head tipped back onto his shoulder. He kissed all over the side of your neck and face as you came on his cock, his grip on your hair loosening as he fucked you through your high.Â
âRae,â you whimpered, shaking in his arms as you relied solely on him to keep you upright.Â
âI got you, sweet girl,â he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw as he slowed his pace, his own high creeping up on him. âFuck, Iâm gonna cum too, baby. You feel too good.âÂ
Your face turned a faint shade of pink as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, your arm lifting up as you tangled your fingers in his hair. âCum for me, Rafe,â you encouraged weakly, nearly limp in his arms as you trembled from the sensitivity.Â
His hand groped your breast, his thumb and index finger gently pinching your nipple as he buried himself as deep as physically possible and emptied himself inside you. âFuck,â he grunted, pressing his face against the side of your neck as his hips jerked and stuttered, his cock filling you up with ropes of white.Â
Once you had drained him of every drop, Rafeâs hand released your breast as his arm wrapped around your middle, slowly guiding you back on the bed as he leaned over you.Â
âYouâre so perfect, baby. I love you so fucking much, more than anything,â he mumbled, peppering your sweaty shoulder in kisses as he carefully rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so he was holding you from behind. âStay just like thisâŠI donât wanna pull out yet.â
His words were slurred as his body still thrummed with the aftershocks, his big hand splayed across your stomach as he nuzzled his face against your neck. You hummed, pressing yourself more firmly against him. âThen stay inside me,â you mumbled, âWeâll stay like this for as long as you want to.âÂ
Rafe grinned lazily, holding you close to him. âIâm gonna hold you like this forever,â he said, his voice muffled against your neck as his thumb stroked along your stomach. âNever letting you go.â
Even though it was just past noon, you both had grown rather tired from that intense workout you just got finished doing. A quick nap sounded fucking amazing right now, especially if he got to stay connected with you and have your body wrapped up in his arms the whole time.Â
This was heaven, Rafe decided, and he never wanted to go a single day without you ever again.Â
And luckily, he would never have to.
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OFF LIMITS â rafe cameron ÂĄ (02)
social media & irl AU !
pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content sexual jokes, rafe being a tease !
NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 01 ÂĄ 02 ÂĄ 03
yourusername
liked by sarahcameron, rafecameron and 1,129 others yourusername me and gf on a mermaids date đ§ââïžÂ
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Involving yourself with Rafe Cameron, whom you later found out was good friends with your brother, was definitely not a part of your plan.Â
Spending the next two months with him meant coming to terms with your actions, perhaps take responsibility for the mess you created out of this situation. Had you further dug into his information, paid attention to the last name splattered across your screen, you would not have ended up in the bathroom, contemplating whether going downstairs was a good idea.Â
Avoiding him could be an option right now, but you knew you'd have to face him one day, whether it was today, or another. And while he stayed oblivious to the incident, you couldnât help the embarrassment that flushed your face everytime his eyes would lock with yours.
You somehow spent the afternoon together, his lingering gazes leaving you a nervous mess every time his eyes fell on you. Heâd stare at you for a few seconds, letting tension heave through the air, almost as if it was the most casual thing ever, as if heâs not your brotherâs best friend, someone so off limits, forbidden to the touch.Â
Besides that, it was nice, you got to spend more time with Sarah, catch up with the girl and everything you missed out on in the past few hours she was gone. It distracted you from your embarrassment, eternally grateful, because you donât think youâll be capable of spending another minute within Rafeâs presence without exploding.Â
Taking a deep breath, you mustered up the courage to head downstairs, taking each step with haste. Sarah perked up when the hardwood creaked underneath you, causing you to come to a halt. Sarah called out your name, addressing you with the hand she waved in your direction, her excitement instantly replacing the frown spread across your face with a smile.Â
âWhat took you so long?â Her lips jut into a pout, tucking her hair behind her ear. She welcomed you with open arms, chuckling when you accepted the embrace with a content hum âYou know, I missed you.âÂ
âYou were jusâ talking to me.â You muffled out, relaxing as the blonde rocked your bodies back and forth.Â
âItâs not the same!â She exclaimed, pulling away for a moment. âItâs not everyday I get to see you in real life.âÂ
Ryan cleared his throat, in an attempt to earn yours and Sarahâs attention. To his satisfaction, he did, causing your gaze to shift back to the latter, instantly detecting the disgusted expression he had splattered across his face.Â
âCan you save this for later, and please help me out?â Ryan questioned, making you roll your eyes. âYou think I called you down so you could be all over each other?âÂ
âShut up.â Sarah stuck out her tongue, teasing the latter from where she stood.Â
You scrunched your nose, tensing when you sensed Rafeâs burning glare from the corner of your eyes. The boyâs glances were intense, almost as if he was staring at you for the purpose of undressing you with his gaze, and that, yeah, it never failed to knock a breath out of your chest, creating a flustered mess out of you.Â
Sarah returned to her old position, standing behind the counter with you following in her steps, striving to see what they were up to. Your lips formed into an âoâ shape, peaking with interest when you noticed the deviled eggs Ryan was plating.
âThat looks good,â you hummed, turning in Ryanâs direction, who conceitedly nodded, proud of the dish they had displayed on the counter. âDonât people usually make these for thanksgiving, though?â
âThatâs what I said!â Sarah agreed, giggling when Ryan grumbled, disapproving of your statement.Â
âYouâre acting like youâre not gonna eat them!â He elbowed your side, acknowledging you with his chin when you hissed, faking a pained expression. âStop complaining and grab more plates, we need them for the mash potatoes.âÂ
âThe only thing missing is the turkey, at this point.â You scoffed, mumbling to yourself, though Ryan could still hear you. âWhereâs the plates?âÂ
âUhh,â Sarah started, observing the cabinets behind you. She pointed to one of them with her finger, your eyes instantly following where her digit landed. âYou can find some in there.â
With a nod, you shuffled to approach the stacked cabinets, aiming for the one Sarah was referring to. A groan instantly escaped your throat, gaze trailing up to the plates positioned on the top shelf.Â
âWhy on earth are these cabinets so high?â You whined, standing on your tippy toes to grab the dishes, merely to end up with nothing in your grasp. âAnd why are you putting plates on the top shelf?! None of you could reach them!âÂ
You extended your arm once again, stretching out your body in an attempt to seize the plates, losing your balance when you maintained the same position for a little too long, eventually failing to achieve what you were aiming for.Â
Ryan mumbled a few words of complaints, rushing you to grab the plates faster, though he noticed that you were struggling, not offering to step in and help you. You paused for a second, calculating how you were going to capture the plates without asking for help, as that was a no in your watch.Â
Right, you could use a chair, and although that was quite the embarrassment, it was the only option you had, even if it meant making a fool out of yourself.Â
âHere, lemme try.âÂ
You tensed where you stood, breath hitching when Rafe shuffled behind you, his broad chest colliding against your back. Your vision blurred as you inhaled his scent, his musky cologne intoxicating your senses.Â
Your gaze trailed up his arm, where it hovered over your shoulder, the brief contact sending goosebumps down your spine. And if you werenât aware before, you definitely are now, enjoying the sight of him towering over you a little too much for your liking.Â
The latter grunted as he reached for the plates, capturing them with a little difficulty. The sound instantly echoed through your ears, blinding you whole, that you had no right being this into it. Your mind wandered with thoughts you shouldnât even ponder about, not as the boy was innocently stepping in to help, when your own brother couldnât.Â
âThere you go.â Rafe muttered, voice barely above a whisper. He placed the plates on the counter in front of you, moving to catch sight of your reaction, chuckling when he noticed how flustered you were, mouth slightly parting with an exhale. âDid I startle you? Sorry, I was jusâ tryinâ to help.âÂ
âRight,â you said through a breath, blinking far too many times for your liking. âThank you, Iâ that was really nice.âÂ
âMhm.â He leaned his arm over the counter, admiring you with a knowing smile tugging at his lips. He stood still for a moment, almost as if he was seeking something out of you, perchance a reply, if that was even appropriate in this situation.
âWhat?â You asked, cluelessly staring back at him, fingers clutching the plates you had in hand.Â
âCould you hurry up!â Ryan interrupted, causing you to jolt from where you stood, leaving Rafe hanging as you headed in your brotherâs direction. âThe foodâs about to run cold.â
âYou couldâve helped me grab them, dickhead.â You scoffed, failing to keep your eyes to yourself as you stole a glance in Rafeâs direction, breath catching in your throat when you spotted him yet staring at you, with the same mischievous smile he had from earlier.Â
Heâs only helping, youâre acting like this because it caught you off guard, right? Fuck, you were totally screwed, how were you supposed to act normal when Rafe was behaving like a gentleman, doing everything in his power to make you comfortable, whether itâs him helping you grab the plates, or him offering you a drink with the scorching hot sun.Â
Either way, this was bad, for your mental being, and the boundaries you created for yourself. Itâs only been a day, what will happen in the next few weeks youâre spending with him? You donât know, but what you do know is that theyâll be hell, tortuous, even.
Sarah passed you the pot of mash, politely asking you to plate it, making it hard for you to refuse the request. You did as told, doing it as neatly as physically possible, with Ryan nagging over your head, telling you to be more cautious in the process.Â
You managed to get what you were asked for done, with the boy pestering you nonstop throughout it, creating a frustrated mess out of you. Rafe offered a helping hand, arranging the plates on the table, for each person they were serving.Â
The elders came through the front door, having been gone for most of the time theyâve been here, excusing themselves for what you assumed was a business meeting. You embraced your mom in a hug, presenting the food to her with your free arm, snickering when she squealed, taken aback by all the food displayed on the table.Â
Dinner was chaotic, filled with chatter and giggles as everyone bonded over the food, getting to catch up with each other. Ward was quite the man, and while you did dislike him, witnessing all the times he was harsh to Sarah, you couldnât dodge his curious questions, not when everyone surrounding you thought of you as angel who wouldnât hurt a fly.Â
You kept to yourself for most of the time, amused by Sarah and Ryan arguing over who cooked each dish, fighting to claim their credit. And as for Rafe, well, he was there, sitting besides Ryan, who was across from you.
âYouâre oddly quiet, Bug.â Sarah suddenly started, talking over the elders, who were chatting about business. âIs everything okay?â
âHuh, yeah!â You nodded, flashing her an endearing smile, one Sarah contently returned.Â
âItâs only âcause thereâs people around,â Ryan clicked his teeth, having heard the conversation. âTrust, sheâs such a brat, donât encourage her to keep talking, otherwise, sheâll never shut up.âÂ
âCan you not?â You muffled through gritted teeth, kicking his foot from underneath the table. âCould you also move? Youâre all up in my space.âÂ
âThatâs uh,â Rafe choked out, taking a sip off of the glass of water splattered across his side of the table. âThatâs my leg.âÂ
You froze your spot, eyes widening with shock when you peaked under the table, discerning that it was Rafeâs leg you were kicking, Ryanâs far back positioned inches away from his chair. Sarah mimicked your action, chuckling when she caught sight of the ridiculous sight, entertained by the situation.Â
âOh my god, Iâm so sorry.â You apologized, eyebrows furrowing with concern. âI thought you were Ryan.â
âItâs okay.â He dismisses, flashing you a gentle smile. âSorry for ruining your uhâ plans.âÂ
âWhy are you apologizing?â Ryan jutted his lips into a pout, turning to glimpse at Rafe, whose face filled with concern. âYouâre supposed to defend me. Why are you taking her side?âÂ
âMhm,â Rafe hummed, going along with the bit. His fingers found the curve of Ryanâs jaw, cupping his face in a teasing manner. âDid I hurt your feelings? Iâm sorry, Iâll be more cautious next time. Do you want a kiss, sweetheart?âÂ
Ryan nodded, nuzzling into the latterâs hand, letting his eyes fall shut when Rafe leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss to his forehead. The mere sight made you sick to your stomach, with Sarah just as cringed out as you were, grumbling with detest.
Looks like you had some competition.Â
âCan you not?â Sarah huffed, âWeâre eating.âÂ
âShe doesnât get it.â Ryan shook his head with disappointment, withdrawing from the touch. Rafe agreed by nodding, patting Ryanâs shoulder before he got back to eating, acting as if that was the normalest thing theyâve done over dinner.Â
Fancy plating was all fun and games until you had to do the dishes, and with the little work you did tonight, it did not look good on your watch. Ryan excused himself out of the list, with Sarah following behind, informing you that they made dinner, meaning it was your turn to do the dishes.Â
Which, truth be told was fair, you totally understood where they were coming from, because if that was you, you wouldâve done the same thing.Â
âIâll help out.â Rafe joined in, the suggestion creating a nervous mess out of you.Â
Thatâs how you ended up in front of the sink, watching as plates piled up with every dish Rafe brought, instantly joining your side after he tidied up the table, wiping it clean to ensure a disinfected setting.Â
Your contained giggles seeped through the silence, observing as Rafe clumsily scrubbed a plate, stumbling as it almost slipped from his hands. A sigh of relief escaped his parted lips, tightening his hold around it before it could further slither through his fingers.Â
âYou donât need to do it.â You uttered, catching Rafeâs attention, who turned to face you with a smug grin spread across his lips, oblivious to the teasing smile you flashed him.
âWhy?â He curled one of his eyebrows with confusion, scrubbing the plate with all his might, though it was past its limit. âDo you not want my help?â
âItâs not that,â you playfully rolled your eyes, rinsing off the excess soap. âIt just looks like youâre struggling.âÂ
ââThat so?â He shot back, mimicking your action, copying your each move to make sure heâs doing it right.Â
âMhm.â You mused, letting silence linger through the air, atmosphere heaving with tension.Â
âYou know,â Rafe started, eyes glued to his gloved hands. âYouâre different over text.âÂ
You almost drop the plate in your hand, caught off guard by the latterâs statement. Rafe maintained a blank expression, continuing what he was doing while you tensed in your spot, too dumbfounded to move, or respond.Â
âIââ you stammered, abandoning the dishes piled in the sink, and focusing your whole attention on Rafe. âWhy are you bringing that up?âÂ
âShould I not?â He questioned, stealing a swift glance in your direction as he cocked his head to the side, intrigued by how the conversation was flowing. âI mean, you did text me this morning, am I supposed to pretend it didnât happen?â
âYou said it yourself,â you started, suddenly feeling your throat go dry. âRyanâs my brother, it would be best if we didnât discuss this.âÂ
âWhy not?â He muttered, voice barely above a whisper. âItâs not like weâre doinâ anythinâ weird, yâknow? I mean, you did leave an impression on me.â
âimpression?â You repeated, jeered by his words as your mouth moved faster than your brain. âDid you know weâd be meeting here?âÂ
âWell,â he replied, rinsing off the soapy dishes. âI canât say I didnât.â
âWhy didnât you say anything, then?â You whispered, afraid others would overhear your conversation. âHad you told me, I wouldnât have continued speaking to you. Do you know how awkward things are now that youâre here?âÂ
âWhy?â Rafe hushed out, pausing for a second, before he turned to face you, now leveling his face with your own. âAm I making you nervous?âÂ
Your throat ran dry, taken aback by the question. Was he flirting with you? And if not, why did it have such a big effect on you? Tolling you with temptation in ways you knew were impossible, out of reach, even.Â
âWhat?â You uttered through a breath, face flushing with heat. âNoâ no itâs justââ
âIâm just messing.â He snickered, amused by how flustered you grew, stuttering to mutter a coherent statement out.Â
âThat wasnât funny.â You grumbled out, fluttering your eyes at the latter, visibly embarrassed by the reaction the boy received from you.Â
âRight.â He chuckled, not sounding convinced at all.Â
The next few minutes filled with tension, as you both fell quiet, letting silence heave the air. Rafe didnât seem as affected as you were, maintaining a blank expression the whole time you were a mess, too embarrassed to be in the boyâs presence, who seemed oblivious to the uncomfortable atmosphere he had created.Â
You instantly excused yourself to your room afterwards, telling the boy you were sleepy, though it was too early for bed. You needed a moment to yourself, even if it meant lying through your teeth.
Besides, you werenât the only one who was gone, as Sarah was nowhere in sight, disappearing once you were done. She was probably talking to her boyfriend, hence you know how clingy they were with each other.Â
You took a quick shower, freshening up before bed, immediately followed with your skin care routine, playing soft music in the background while you did so. You dressed yourself in comfortable pajamas, instantly slipping under your covers, letting the warmness engulf your body whole.Â
Your eyes droswed with sleep, after a few hours of scrolling through your phone, not noticing the time, only acknowledging how late it was when you received a notification that earned your attention. Your breath almost hitched as you opened the DM, caught off guard by who it was from.Â
It was Rafe.
a/n THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON THIS WTH!! i wasnt expectingt it ily mwahh!! & just a little fyi this story will have more irl parts, it wont be solely sm based as i alr have stated in the beginning! it will definitely have social media, but im not abandoning the irl part of it yk đŁ that being said, feel free to lmk if you want to be removed/added to the taglist :) (in order to stay on it, you need to interact with the posts)
TAGLIST @greyswaren @slut-4-gojo @depthsofdespairr @littlelamy @lilithblackkk @cnnamongrl @mattyskies @percysley @jaklvbub @inlovewithdob @ilovefiction4lmen @theeternaloptimistt @maybejj @icaqttt @idgasb @purplerose291 @shincidios @laniirackssss @malibuhearts @adulterated-cocaine @bugg06 @murdockcastleslut @drwstarkeys @pretymads @klmaaaoooo @wearemadeofstardust0 @urbrunettebombshell @stylestarkey @riverxsq @louxmcl @totalswag @cl4uus @simpforboys @tearsfromasliverwolf-blog @bilssturns @fandomhopped @strsdoulikedem @congratsloserr @dr3wstarkey @xoxo-ada @stvrligghtt @rafeswhoooreee @kythefangirl25 @chaneydoll @blushmimi @akobx @empath-bunny @flirtism @stopnala @rafecameronswifeyy
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x brat!reader#rafe cameron smau#rafe cameron social media au#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe obx#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey#outer banks
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âčââĄâ⥠âhave you ever tried this one?â in which kook!sweetheart!reader convinces rafe to take her to go see one of her favorite artists, and as a âthank youâ she and rafe have to do whatever position sabrina demoâs for her song âjunoâ..
warnings: fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink (?)
a/n: so sad because i didnât get to see sabrina on tour, and she has had me in the meanest chokehold lately :( click this link to see what position iâm referring to <3
when the dates dropped for sabrinaâs âshort nâ sweetâ tour, rafe wasted no time in buying you two tickets. of course, you didnât know this and begged him for weeks until he finally told you yes, your flight and hotel room already booked for a nice little weekend getaway. rafe helped you make your concert outfit, both of you spending hours on the whole ensemble. the end result was absolutely stunning and rafe couldnât stop taking pictures of you.
he posted one on the night of the concert, captioning it âmy little popstar princess <3â and you two were off to the stadium. while you knew wearing sparkly white platform boots wouldnât be the best choice to walk in, you stuck it through, and as soon as the lights dimmed and the music started, any kind of discomfort you felt had melted away as you were far too distracted singing along to every song that boomed through the venue.
babydoll lingerie top with pink fluffy trim, dedazzled stockings, glittery makeup, your hair freshly done, rafe swore you never looked prettier. even though he was against wearing anything that sparkled, he decided to wear a plain pink t-shirt to match with you in his own little way. he kept his arms wrapped around your waist as you two sung, having learned the lyrics to every song since you insisted on being in charge of the aux cord whenever you two were in his truck.
eventually, you two were swaying softly, rafeâs chin resting in the curve of your neck as you stroked the skin of his arm. âthank you for bringing me here.â you smiled up at him, connecting your lips as the intro to âjunoâ started playing. rafe hummed, leaning down so you could hear him. âyou know i had to bring you, baby.. what do you say you thank me another way when we get back to our room?â your cheeks heated as you laughed softly.
âyeah, iâd like that,â you pecked his cheek, âhow about we do the position she does for the song?â rafe smiled, both of you fixing your attention on the stage. you waited with anticipation, your heart beating in your ears when she bent over and touched her toes. rafe cheered, making you laugh as he couldnât wait to get you back to the hotel. luckily for him, there was only a few more songs left before the show ended and the two of you rushed out of there.
it wasnât long after you two walked through the door that rafe had your boots thrown in a forgotten corner, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he took you roughly from behind. you struggled to keep your hands placed on your perfectly pedicured toes, your knees threatening to give out from under you while rafe thrusted into you at an unforgiving pace. âholy fuck, youâre taking it so fuckinâ good, gorgeous, âmight just let you get off your tippy toes and put you on your back instead.â
you cried out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as his pelvis smacked against the back of your ass. âcanât, rafe!â you shrieked, nearly doubling over before your boyfriend reached down and grabbed your arms, holding you by your wrists as you hung helplessly from his grip. he was fucking you stupid, and your lack of thoughts was proof of it. you couldnât think, the feeling of rafeâs cock stroking that soft gummy spot inside of you made you whimper pathetically.
finally, you couldnât hold yourself up anymore, your knees meeting the carpeted floor. rafe picked you up, cursing under his breath as he encouraged you to get back in position. âpromise iâll have you in bed soon, pretty, you could hold out for me, yeah?â you shuddered, looking over at him behind your shoulder with that fucked-out gaze he loved so much. you had tears in your eyes, your body glitter still sparkling under the soft lighting.
giving him a little nod, you reached down once again, holding onto your ankles for dear life as rafe circled an arm under your hips, holding you up as his fingers started working on your clit. âoh!â you were in hysterics, your blood rushing to your head as he landed a harsh smack to your backside. âcome on, baby, âwanna feel this pussy squeeze around me.â you moaned at his words, your orgasm just in armâs reach as rafeâs thrusts grew uncalculated. ârafe?â you could barely speak, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.
âtalk to me.â he groaned, teetering the edge of pure euphoria. âmake me juno?â you giggled for a split second, the insinuation only turning rafe on even more. âfuck, yeah? âwant me to fill you up, give you a baby?â you let out a distorted âmhmm!â, the two of you gasping when your highs took you both to cloud nine. rafe pulled you back up, your chest rising and falling while your legs shook with your orgasm. pressing wet kisses to your neck, rafe did exactly as he said, his hips stuttering as hot, thick ropes of cum painted your velvety walls.
you two stayed like this, pressed against one another until your breathing slowed, the aftershocks subsiding before rafe laid you both down in bed. âwe should have a âshort nâ sweetâ themed baby shower.. we could serve espressos.â rafe laughed, draping an arm over your tummy. âweâll see.â he hummed. your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed him in, his cologne still heavy on his skin. âyou know what we should try when we get back home?â rafe traced shapes into your side, mumbling a âwhatâs that?â
âpink fuzzy handcuffs.â
#â€ïžâ âč works#âËâč⥠kook!sweetheart!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#rafe outer banks#outer banks rafe#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#drew starkey
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THE CONTRACTED HEART â Rafe Cameron
MASTERLIST
Summary: Coming back from a theater night with your friends only made Rafe hornier for some reason
Warnings: smut, eating out, fingering, p in v.
Word Count: 3.3k
Aliyah's Notes: this is kind of all over the place but wtv. it's a cute little extra that i thought was fun
You: "Where the fuck are you?" You: "This is why youâve never had a girlfriend." You: "I hope you guys tripped and fell into a river." You: "Iâm serious, Rafe. Are you okay? Iâm starting to worry."
You stood outside the cinema with Kiara and Sarah, arms crossed as the chilly New York breeze bit at your skin. Despite the gray hoodie youâd stolen from Rafe draped over your white crop top, you still felt cold, silently cursing Sarah for convincing you to wear such a thin outfit. Sure, it looked great, but it definitely wasnât warm enough for a night like this.
The three of you had been waiting for what felt like forever while the guysâRafe, JJ, and John Bâvanished into the snack counter abyss. You hadnât even decided on a movie yet, and deep down, you knew that when Rafe showed up, a heated argument about which movie to watch was inevitable.
It was almost tradition at this point: the two of you bickering over the movie choice while everyone else groaned in frustration. But like always, you were confident youâd win. You always did. Rafe would put up a fight for the sake of it, but in the end, heâd cave, and youâd get your way.
Kiara sighed loudly, tugging you out of your thoughts. "Whatâs taking them so long? Are they buying snacks or building them from scratch?"
âWith the time theyâre taking, Iâm starting to think theyâve decided to move in back there," you muttered, shoving your hands into the hoodie pockets.
Kiara snorted, throwing her hands in the air. âSeriously, whatâs their deal? Did they forget we exist?â
âKnowing JJ and John B? Probably. Theyâre probably debating over candy, and Rafeâs just stuck there, pretending to care," Sarah chimed in, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
âAnd heâll come out looking all innocent,â you added, smirking. âLike, âWhat? It wasnât me.ââ
Kiara grinned, brushing her hair out of her face. âMeanwhile, JJâs going to show up with enough snacks to feed a small country.â
Sarah laughed. âHonestly, we shouldâve started a timer on them. This is ridiculous.â
"Or a betting pool," Kiara added with a mischievous glint.
You chuckled, glancing at the glowing movie posters plastered on the walls. Your gaze lingered on the title of the movie youâd been determined to watch all week. It was calling your name, and nothingânot even Rafeâs inevitable stubbornnessâwas going to stop you from seeing it tonight.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the guys emerged, balancing an obscene amount of snacks between them. JJ led the charge with a sheepish grin, precariously balancing a tray stacked with popcorn, nachos, and candy.
âWeâre back, ladies!â JJ called, panting as he reached you. He flashed Kiara a grin and casually slung an arm around her shoulder. âTook a little longer than expected.â
Sarah raised an unimpressed eyebrow. âA little? We were about to send a search party.â
JJ waved her off, popping a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. âYou just donât appreciate the art of snack selection. Itâs a process, Sarah. You canât rush greatness.â
âGreatness, huh?â Kiara deadpanned, staring at the tray in his hands.
âAbsolutely.â JJ puffed out his chest but immediately backed down at Kiaraâs withering look.
As John B mumbled an apology and tried to lighten the mood, Rafe sauntered up, his gaze locked on you. His blue eyes seemed to search yours, scanning your face for any sign of annoyanceâor maybe forgiveness. Without a word, he slid his arm around your waist, pulling you close in one smooth motion.
"Are you mad?" he asked quietly, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
You tilted your head, pretending to think. "Hmm, let me see... You disappeared for ages, left me out here in the freezing cold, and probably picked the most ridiculous snacks. What do you think?"
Rafe's lips twitched, fighting a smirk. "So... that's a yes?"
"Obviously,â you crossed your arms, feigning a pout, though the warmth of his arm around your waist made it hard to stay committed to the act.
âCâmon, baby, it wasnât that bad,â he teased, leaning closer. âYou had Sarah and Kie to keep you company. I bet they were super entertaining.â
âMuch better company than you,â you sassed, though the corner of your mouth twitched in betrayal.
Rafeâs smirk grew, and he leaned in even closer, so close you could feel his breath fan against your cheek. âHow about I make it up to you?â
You quirked an eyebrow, your heart skipping a beat despite yourself. âOh? And how exactly are you planning to do that?â
âIâll let you pick the movie,â he said, as if it was a monumental sacrifice.
You blinked, staring at him. âYou were going to let me pick the movie anyway.â
âYeah, but now Iâm offering,â he countered, his grin widening.
Kiaraâs voice broke through the moment, her tone dripping with mock exasperation. âGod, will you two just kiss already so we can pick a seat? Itâs freezing out here.â
Sarah snorted. âSeriously, you guys are worse than an old married couple.â
Your cheeks burned, but before you could respond, Rafe turned his head toward the girls, his expression smug. âJealous much?â
âOf what? Your inability to tell time?â Kiara shot back, unimpressed.
Rafe chuckled, then turned back to you, ignoring their comments. âSo, are we good?â
You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your smile. âFine. But youâre holding all the snacks, Cameron.â
âDeal.â He winked, stealing a quick kiss on your temple.
As the credits rolled and the theater lights slowly came on, you stretched your arms above your head, trying to shake off the stiffness from sitting for two hours. The group shuffled out of their seats, JJ loudly debating with John B about the "most iconic moment" in the movie while Sarah and Kiara chimed in with their own opinions.
You werenât paying much attention, though. Your focus was on Rafe, whoâd been surprisingly quiet during the movie, his hand casually resting on your thigh for most of it. Every now and then, youâd caught him glancing at you instead of the screen, though he played it off whenever you turned to meet his gaze.
The cool night air greeted you as you stepped out of the theater, the city alive with its usual buzz. You pulled Rafeâs hoodie tighter around you, already feeling the chill sink in.
âYou cold?â Rafe asked, stepping closer.
âA little,â you admitted, rubbing your hands together for warmth.
Without another word, he slid his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. The gesture was so natural, so un-Rafe in its quiet thoughtfulness, that you almost didnât know how to react.
âYouâre lucky I let you pick the movie,â he teased, his voice low and warm against your ear.
âYou didnât let me do anything,â you countered, glancing up at him. âI just won, like I always do.â
âDebatable,â he shot back, though his grin betrayed his amusement.
The group paused near the sidewalk, debating where to go next. JJ was rallying for a late-night diner run, while Sarah and Kiara wanted to head home. You stood back with Rafe, content to let them figure it out.
Rafe nudged you lightly. âWhatâd you think of the movie?â
You smirked. âI loved it, obviously. Itâs called having good taste. You should try it sometime.â
âCareful,â he warned, his tone playful. âOr I might change my mind about letting you pick next time.â
âYeah, right,â you scoffed. âWe both know youâll cave again.â
Rafe stared at you for a moment, his smirk softening into something gentler. His arm slipped from your shoulders, and before you could protest, he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.
âOkay, Iâll admit it,â he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. âYou were right. It was a good pick.â
You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity. âIs this your way of saying I have good taste?â
âDonât push it,â he said, though his grin gave him away.
Before you could respond, JJ called out, breaking the moment. âAyo, Rafe! Quit making googly eyes with your wife and help me convince them to hit the diner!â
Rafe groaned, rolling his eyes. âThis guyâŠâ
You laughed, tugging on his hand. âCâmon, we should at least hear him out. You do owe me for taking so long earlier.â
His eyes lit up. âYouâre not letting that go, are you?â
âNever,â you said with a grin, leading him toward the group.
As the group finally parted waysâJJ still grumbling about the lack of a diner stopâyou and Rafe headed back to his car. The ride was quiet, the city lights casting soft glows through the windows as the hum of the engine filled the space.
Rafe rested one hand on the steering wheel, his other hand perched casually on your thigh, a touch he hadnât bothered to remove since the movie started. You glanced at him, his profile sharp under the streetlights, and felt your thighs rub against each other. You hated how effortlessly sexy he looked, even when he was doing something as mundane as driving.
When he pulled into the parking garage of his building, you expected him to make a teasing comment about how youâd owe him for letting you win the movie argument. Instead, he turned off the engine, sat back, and looked at you, his blue eyes flickering with something unreadable.
âWhat?â you asked, feigning nonchalance, though your voice betrayed the way your heart had started to race.
âNothing,â he said, though the way his lips curled into a slow, dangerous smirk told a different story. âJust thinking about how much I want to fuck you right now.â
Your breath hitched, but you rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. âIs that your way of saying youâre admitting defeat? Again?â
âDefeat?â he repeated, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned closer, his hand still warm and steady on your thigh. âBaby, you have no idea whoâs about to win.â
Before you could reply, he closed the distance, his lips crashing onto yours with a mix of urgency and purpose. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that made your head spin.
You barely registered the sound of the car door closing behind you or the way he guided you toward the elevator, his lips never leaving yours. By the time the elevator doors slid open to his penthouse, you were breathless, his hands gripping your waist as he walked you backward into the living room.
âRafe,â you murmured against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair.
âWhat, baby?â he hummed, his lips moving to trail kisses along your jawline and down your neck.
âWeââ Your words dissolved into a gasp as he nipped at the sensitive spot just below your ear. âWeâre home,â you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
âExactly,â he muttered against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your hips and pull you flush against him. âAnd no oneâs here to interrupt us.â
You opened your mouth to reply, but Rafe silenced you with another searing kiss, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of the hoodie you were wearingâhis hoodie. The warmth of his touch against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and any coherent thought you had vanished entirely.
His hands on your body were all you were thinking about. It was so addictive.Â
He was laying you down on the couch, taking yourâhisâhoodie off your body, then your crop-top. âYouâre so fucking pretty. My wife,â his thumb ran over your hard nipples as he rapidly took your black bra off, throwing it god-knows-where in the living room. âMine to fuck,â he bit down on your nipple. âMine to ruin.â
His hand slid lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, fingertips teasing the edge of your soaked panties. A shiver raced through you as his touch lingered, deliberate and torturously slow. By now, you couldnât bring yourself to care how desperate, how utterly undone you sounded. Each broken moan and shaky breath betrayed how much you craved him, how badly you needed him. Nothing else mattered but this moment.
âPlease, Rafe⊠pleaseâŠâ
âWhat, baby? What do you want?
Before you could even muster a response, his hand was already slipping beneath your panties. His fingers found your sensitive bud effortlessly, stroking it with deliberate, teasing motions that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you. A soft moan escaped your lips, your body instinctively arching into his touch as if it was second natureâa dance the two of you had performed countless times before.
He watched you intently, his eyes dark and smoldering, drinking in every gasp, every shiver you gave him. Slowly, he brought his glistening fingers to his lips, tasting you with a deliberate flick of his tongue.Â
âFuck! I could taste you for a thousand years and still be so obsessed after all those years,â he murmured, his voice low and rough, his gaze never leaving yours as he savored every bit of you like it was a privilege. âYou got no idea how fucking obsessed I am with you, baby.â
He didnât waste a single moment, his hands working to tug your pants down before tearing through the delicate lace of your panties with a sharp rip.
âRafe!â you exclaimed, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your tone. âThose were expensive!â
He only smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief as he let the ruined fabric fall to the floor. âIâll buy you a dozen more,â he promised, his voice dark and dripping with desire.
Without hesitation, Rafeâs tongue found your swollen folds, his movements deliberate yet desperate, as if savoring every tremor of your oversensitive body. The sharp gasp that escaped your lips was like music to him, fueling his obsession with every intoxicating second of pleasuring you.
âGod, Rafe!â you cried out, your voice trembling as the tension inside you threatened to snap. âI-Iâm so close⊠gonna explode!â
He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core as his tongue flattened, dragging languidly across your slick heat. His rhythm was unhurried, teasing yet relentless, each stroke chasing away the weight of the outside world, grounding him in this moment with you. âYou taste so good, babe,â he murmured, his lips brushing your sensitive skin.
âYou like that, huh?â he rasped, his voice heavy with need as he nipped at you softly, savoring your helpless writhing. âYou like riding my face, donât you, sweetheart? Taking what you need like this?â
Your hips bucked involuntarily, and a broken moan escaped you. âY-yes! Fuck, yes!â
A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest as he held you tighter, his grip possessive. âThis is all I could think of while we were watching the movie,â his hand tracing a path down your chest, he brushed over your nipples, a deliberate pinch causing a sharp gasp to escape you. âThe sound of your moans, the way your pussy tastes, imagining myself between your legs... I couldn't stop thinking about it.â
Your body was writhing beneath him, every subtle arch and tremble betraying just how close you were. The way your breath hitched, your cries growing sharper and more desperate, told Rafe everything he needed to knowâyou were teetering on the edge. His voice dropped into a low, coaxing growl, his lips brushing against your ear.
"That's it, baby," he murmured, his tone both commanding and soothing, a mix of rough encouragement and deep affection. "Let go for me. Cum for me, beautiful."
And just like that, hot pleasure ran through you like lightning, body trembling as you came all over your husbandâs pretty face. As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs.Â
You must have done something right in your past life to have him as your partner.
He pulled back, his lips glistening with the evidence of what heâd just done, and gazed up at you with that trademark smirkâthe one that made your heart race and your blood boil in equal measure. As you struggled to catch your breath, he chuckled low in his throat, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
"The only time you stop running that smart mouth of yours," he drawled, his eyes dark and playful, "is when Iâm buried between your thighs. Not so sassy now, huh, baby?"
Your chest heaved as you processed his words, heat flooding your cheeks. Rolling your eyes, you shoved at his shoulder with your foot, a laugh bubbling past your lips despite your best efforts to stay annoyed.
"I hate you," you shot back, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you, curving into a smile.
He shook his head slowly, the smirk softening into something dangerously close to fondness as he leaned in. Pressing a trail of lazy kisses along your body, working his way from your navel to the hollow of your throat, he murmured against your skin.
"Sure you do..."
Youâre catching your breath, trying to steady yourself, when Rafe begins to undress. His gaze doesnât waver from you as he pulls off his clothes, revealing his sculpted muscles and toned physique. Every inch of him is perfect, his body chiseled and taut, like something crafted from stone. Even the sight of his cock, already leaking with arousal, makes your breath catch in your throat. Heâs so hard, it almost feels wrongâlike you should apologize for how badly he wants you.
With ease, he spreads your thighs apart, his hands firm yet gentle. "Missionary, so we can keep arguing?" he repeats, teasing you about something youâd said earlier on social media. The words echo in your ears, and a blush rises to your cheeks.
His body leans down toward yours, and his hand grips your hips, holding you in place as the other strokes your cheek with tenderness that contrasts the raw hunger in his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he sinks into you, inch by inch, a steady rhythm that makes your heart race. Youâve been with him enough times to know the feeling, but each time is differentâhe stretches you just right, filling you completely, making you gasp.
Perhaps it was because he knew exactly how to touch you, how to make every moment feel electric, or maybe it was the deeper connection you felt with him that stirred something inside you. The way your feelings for him took root and grew, so intense. It was as if he wasnât just a man you were withâhe overwhelmed you, consumed you completely, leaving no room for anything else.
âShit, Rafe! Itâs too much,â you whined, nails raking down his back.Â
Rafeâs pace slowed just enough for you to feel every thrust in excruciating detail, and you couldn't help but moan at the feeling. But then, as if on cue, he smirked. "You know," he started, his voice low and teasing, "this whole âtoo muchâ thing? Kinda sounds like youâre not enjoying it."
You rolled your eyes, trying to bite back a grin despite the rising heat between you. "Are you seriously talking about this right now?" you shot back, the words almost slipping from your lips in frustration. "Youâre the one whoâ"
"Who what?" He cut you off, his thrusts picking up again, harder, deeper, forcing the words to die in your throat. "Who made you this wet?" He grinned at your flustered expression. "I think youâre enjoying it just fine."
âY-youâre so⊠ah⊠full of yourself," you muttered, though the words come out weaker than you intended.
Rafe chuckled darkly, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. "You love it," he said with that same smug smirk. "You canât get enough of me, can you?"
"Shut up, Cameron," you snapped, trying to push past the wave of pleasure that clouds your thoughts. "You think youâre so perfect, butâ"
"Perfect, huh?" He suddenly stopped, his eyes narrowing playfully. "You really want to keep arguing while Iâm literally inside you?"
The tone of his voice shifted, becoming possessive, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten as he pulled you closer, forcing you to feel every inch of him. "Iâm notâfuckâperfect, but I know what you want."
You exhaled sharply, trying to suppress a moan. "Youâre annoying," you bit out, though thereâs no real malice in your words.
Rafe laughed, his lips brushing your ear. "I know." He gave you one more slow, deep thrust, and you couldnât help but gasp. "But you love it."Â
You glared at him, your body still trembling from his movements.Â
#rafe fic#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe obx#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#tch#rafe smut#rafe cameron prompt#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron obx#outer banks rafe#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#obx smut#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x female reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#x reader#obx x reader#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey smut
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summer sun forever, rafe cameron
band au!rafe x fan!reader (SMAU)
IN WHICH . . . one of the biggest warnings among celebrities is to avoid falling for a fan. rafe clearly does not consider this when he first notices his self proclaimed number one fan, you.
navigation: part 06 | part 07 | part 08
viewed best on mobile + dark mode.
rafe's phone
yn's phone
amora speaks: timeskipping but pretend yn and rafe have been talking nonstop for the past 4 days thanks!!!! this is honestly js a filler bc i wanna ask you guys if i should keep this fic nice and fun or should i add in angst/drama???? just lmk... bc idk.... also sorry my posting schedule is ass.........
also im fixing up the timeline n stuff bc i messed up some of the dates đąđą
taglist à„à±ż @nepttunesoop @lilithblackkk @kolsmikaelson @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @rafescvmdumpster @wearemadeofstardust0 @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @maybankslover @rafestify @dayyzlol @namelesslosers @mjsvinyl @nellyboosworld @osamanyc @bradleyroosterbradshawfr @urmotherlvr @rafeslittlevixen @p0gue420 @hoelesslyt @aariahnaa @kay133sposts @hadids-world @vivian-555 @unclecrunkle @eitaababe @he6rtshaker @fmit37cass @aoiiana @rrosiitas @hereforchifuyu @rafesfavouritegirl @rafeycameronsgf @glxsyymads @cnnamongrl @loveu-always @obx-potc-marvel-hp-ep @glitterybombshell @b3bybunny @nina-or-anna-or-nora @drewsdirtyslut @idgasb @inthelibrarybtw @whorelaud @lexilovespepsi @drwstarkeys @ilovefiction4lmen @kaiparkerwifes @shincidios @mrsstarkeyy @solaceinwritings @xoxo-ada @emmaaas-posts @joshuafatubaee @urfavoriteangel @enthusiastms @linoscrly @iheartjdmx @dr3wstarkey @rlalliehayes
#âË đ by amora đđËâ#rafe cameron#rafe cameron social media au#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron angst#social media au#obx#outer banks#obx smut#obx fluff#obx angst#obx season 4#obx imagine#obx fic#obx fanfiction#obx x reader#outer banks smut#outer banks fluff#outer banks angst#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fic#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#rafe obx
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let him fuck you woman đđ»
â§âË â
i'll show you, rafe cameron
stepbro!rafe x fem!reader
masterlist
synopsis. in which your stepbrother kindly offers to show you porn for the first time.
warnings. stepbro!rafe, innocent!reader (but she's not an airhead), virgin!reader, smut, fingering, rafe putting in just the tip, oral sex (fem receiving), rafe licks his own creampie.
word count. 4k.
author's note. idea by @matts1andonly. english isn't my first language so there might be spelling mistakes, don't hold it against me. enjoy!
it's past midnight when you finally slide out of your bedroom without making a sound. you have been waiting patiently for your mom and ward to go to bed so you can do this without risking getting caught. wheezie is already asleep too, sarah is out with john b somewhere, and rafe left the house earlier, not telling anyone where to, so you know he's going to arrive late, as always.
it's the perfect moment.
rafe's room is down the hallway, so you make your way there quietly not to wake anyone, your barefoot feet making soft footstep sounds when you walk. once there, you open the door as carefully as you possibly can, knowing it creaks every time it gets open. this time, thanks to god, it does not.
you manage to sneak into the dormitory unnoticed, then shut the door behind you. the place is dark, only a faint glimmer of moonlight coming in through his curtains, but you want to lay low, so you don't turn on the lights. by all means, the dim lighting is enough for you to spot what you're looking for.
rafe's mac, laying there on his desk.
what's the point behind all of this? you might be wondering. well, let me answer you real quick. turns out, this handsome, muscled college guy has invited you on a date. problem is, you have never been on a date. you haven't even hold hands with a guy romantically before, much less kissed or fucked one. you simply refuse to come off as a prude, which honestly you are, but that dream of a man doesn't need to know that.
and that's why you have decided that it is a good idea to break into your stepbrother's bedroom and borrow his laptop, since yours broke last week, to watch porn in it for the first time.
well, now that you hear it out loud, it probably sounded better in your head. anyways...
you stroll towards the desk with languid steps and sit down on rafe's chair, small hands reaching hesitantly to open the laptop. you turn it on and the screen light illuminates your pretty face right away. you swear your fingers are shaking a little bit as you open up the browser and type 'porn videos' on the search bar.
somehow, you feel like you are doing something wrong, and you can't seem to shake the guilt away. either way, you don't back out. you click the enter button and, after just a few seconds, a million search results pop up. honestly, you don't know where to start, so you click on the first one, which redirects you to a website called pornhub.
the home page is full of videos, the first thing to catch your attention being the obscene thumbnails of each one of them. your cheeks flush a deep shade of red. you read some of the titles as you bite your lip nervously, realising most of them contain the word 'stepsister' in them, and you wonder if that is the only content posted on this page.
how innocent of you not to know that the website is making recommendations based on your stepbro's most searched tag.
before things escalate further, you spot rafe's airpods max sitting there on the desk and decide to grab them, connecting them to the laptop and putting them on âthis way you can make sure no one overhears anything. after that, you spend a few more minutes scrolling through the page, during which you discover that there's a ton of categories to choose from.
how are you supposed to know which one to pick?
you are so invested in your little research, headphones canceling the noise, that you don't hear neither rafe opening the front door nor him walking up the stairs and, surely, don't notice him standing behind you until he speaks. and it's too late by then.
"the fuck are you doing, sweetheart?" he blurts, complete and utterly shocked to see his naive stepsister fuckin' watching pornhub.
well shit, maybe you aren't as innocent as he thought you were.
you jolt instantly, jumping out of your seat as you feel all the colour draining from your cheeks. no way rafe just caught you in the act. this can't be real. despite how bad you want to run away, you are left with no other choice but to turn around and face him, wishing the earth would swallow you up.
"iâ this is not what it looks like, i swear i can explain," you stutter nervously, taking of the airpods with trembling hands. from here on, the anxious rambling begins, "i wasn't doing anything... this guyâ well, i... i uhmâ i got a date, 'kay? with this guy from class andâ listen, i know this is silly, but..."
"jesus christ, baby, slow down, 'kay?" he stops you, his heart nearly melting from how cute you look, so shy and flustered. he almost feels bad for interrupting whatever the hell you were doing here.
the colour has returned to your cheeks, and you are all flushed now, from head to toe. your face feels like it's on fire; you have never been this embarrassed before.
"could you please start over?" he asks, hoping to hear a coherent explanation to why you are in his room, in the middle of the night, and watching porn on his laptop.
you take a deep breath, fidgeting with the hem of your top. you are so deeply ashamed that you don't seem to remember that you are wearing nothing but a flimsy white singlet and a tiny pair of matching panties. rafe's very aware of that fact, though, hungry eyes trailing all over your beautiful body.
"i've got a date with a guy from class," you start explaining, white teeth nibling occasionally on your plump bottom lip, "but i've never dated anyone, ya' know? i've no experience, and i don't want him to think i'm pathetic if we..."
"fuck?" he finishes your sentence, a roguish grin spreading across his handsome face.
if possible, your blush deepens even more at the vulgarity while you mutter a quiet 'yeah' in response.
honestly, he is a bit jealous of that guy. not only you are willing to let him fuck you, but you are also trying to learn how to do it properly so he has a good time doing it. yeez, what a shame for him he is going to kill him as soon as he finds out who he is; there's no chance rafe's letting you near any other man but him.
"i thought, uhm, maybe watching that would help..." you add coyly, his silence making you more nervous.
it is cute how you try to avoid saying words like 'fuck' or 'porn', like it is a crime to pronounce them or something.
"you know what? let's watch it together," he proposes.
there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed. you swear your cheeks might just explode at any second, and you can't help the pathetic stutter that comes out when you talk. "uhm, i don't think that'd be appropriate," you refuse, shaking your head.
"why not? you want help, and i can help you here, sweetheart," he answers, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle âunlike rafe, "that's what big brothers are for, aren't they?"
he takes a few steps in his direction until he is standing right beside you. then, he grabs the laptop in his large hands as he flashes you a wicked smirk, his curtain bangs falling messily on his forehead. you gulp, having him so close makes you feel a certain way; you cannot deny that.
"you, uhm, being my stepbrother is exactly why not," you stammer as you tilt your head back to look at him, his height towering over you.
"bullshit," he retorts, huffing. "you trust me?"
your first mistake is, probably, trusting rafe cameron. "yeah, i do, but..."
"that's why 'm perfect for the job, baby," he interrupts you. his words are clearly intended to manipulate you, but you are way too innocent to notice it, "i'm probably the guy you feel most comfortable with, aren't i? i can give ya' all the advice you need."
to be fair, he isn't wrong about that. you don't have any male friends, and you are honestly too embarrassed to ask your girlfriends for help on this department, not wanting them to think less of you. plus, rafe is a guy; he knows better what guys like, right?
"wouldn't it be kinda... weird ?" you ask, clearly hesistant.
"weird?" he repeats. "no, 'course not."
only a few more sweet, reassuring words is all it takes for him to gently coax you into watching his favourite pornos with him. his cock starts to harden in his pants just at the thought of having you like that. when you finally accept, he swears he's on cloud nine.
god, he's been wanting you for months now; he can't believe this is happening.
"c'mere, baby," he eagerly instructs you, getting on his bed.
he sits with his back resting on the headboard and pats the spot between his legs to invite you to sit there. he places the laptop next to him, the pornhub website still open on it. you move slowly towards him, cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment as you settle on the mattress in between his parted thighs, your back pressed to his hard chest.
he wraps one strong arm securely around your waist, his hand coming to rest gently on your tummy. with his other hand, he reaches for the laptop sitting beside him, carefully bringing it closer so the two of you can see the screen properly.
your heart is beating so fast in your chest that he can probably hear it, too. the way he is touching you is not making it easier for you to stay calm, either, his fingers tenderly tracing patterns on your belly over the thin fabric of your shirt while he scrolls through the page.
he seems to sense your discomfort and chuckles low in his throat, his warm breath tickling your ear. "relax, sis," he whispers teasingly, his voice laced with amusement. "i'm not gonna make you watch anything that'll traumatize you."
"it's justâ this is a bad idea," you babble, fidgeting nervously when he finally clicks on a video and a pretty young woman appears on screen.
the actress is beautiful; she has a gorgeous body and face. her lips are full and pink, and she has these big, expressive eyes that appear to gleam. and you don't realize it, but she looks exactly like you.
the scene starts playing; in it, the girl is watching some movie with a guy that, apparently, is her roommate âat least that's what the title says.
"shhh..." he hushes you softly, his voice barely audible over the sounds emanating from his laptop's speakers. "just watch. don't overthink it."
"okay," you answer between gritted teeth.
your pretty eyes are fixed on the laptop while you try not to cringe at how bad the script and acting are, which is nearly impossible, to be honest. despite that, you keep watching in silence as the video plays, growing more flustered as the clock ticks.
you didn't know mouths could be used for that... interesting.
as opposed to you, rafe's pretty chill behind you, like he's unbothered by this whole situation âhe's actually hard as fuck inside his pants, the thing is you haven't noticed. you wonder how he can act so unfazed, since you keep pushing your thighs together to try and soothe the throbbing sensation building in between them while you take in the lewd actions occurring on screen.
you weren't expecting your body to have this reaction, and now you don't know what to do to make it stop.
rafe soon becomes aware of the way you keep letting out soft sighs and squirming in his arms, plush ass rubbing against his cock every time you do it. it's a miracle he is still holding back, though he doesn't know how much time he will be able to.
he's not even paying attention to the video anymore, his entire focus put on you. he finally ventures to lean in, his hot breath grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "you know, i could do that to you..." his hand slowly slides to your plush thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
his movements are measured and controlled not to scare you, but your breath hitches in your chest at his actions either way, body tensing up in his grasp. your brain is telling you to push him away, but the insistent throb in your sex doesn't like that idea, not one bit.
"youâ you could?" you utter quietly, not taking your eyes away from the laptop.
rafe notices the uncertainty in your voice, but the way you haven't pushed him away yet emboldens him to continue, his large hand gradually sliding north.
"yeah, baby," he murmurs huskily against your ear, fingertips brushing along your inner thigh. "i could put my fingers inside you, just like he's doing to her..."
his words make you blush heavily as a little gasp is released from your pouty lips. "would it feel good?" you ask naively.
your eyes are transfixed in the sight of the guy on the screen pushing his fingers inside the girl's pussy. god, she seems like she's enjoying it so much... and you desperately want to feel like that too. you can't even bring yourself to care that it's your stepbrother offering to show you.
rafe's fingers creep higher and higher until they're barely brushing against your cotton panties. "yeah," he growls huskily against your ear, "it'd feel real good, sweetheart. i promise..."
you shudder, a sweet little mewl escaping your throat involuntarily. you can't help but blush at your own reaction, slightly embarrassed by it. you tear your eyes away from the screen, head falling back against his chest as you look up at him.
"it's throbbing, rafe..." you whine, self-control slipping from your hands. "can you make it better?"
rafe's fingers finally make contact with your wet underwear, pressing against your clit through the fabric. he rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub, his other hand curling around your supple thigh to spread your legs wider.
"oh, baby, you're soaked through your panties..." he pants out.
your body literally melts into his touch like butter, perfectly shaped brows knitting together in a frown of pleasure. the girl in the video moans, and you do too, both sounds echoing in the silence of his room.
taking your moan as an invitation, rafe carefully hooks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to the cool air of his bedroom. then, he traces your wet slit slowly, leisurely, as if savoring the velvety feel of your skin.
"such a pretty little pussy..." he praises, eyes hungrily taking in the pink expanse of flesh.
you squirm and let out a soft whimper, biting your lip right after to avoid keep making noises; the last thing you want is to wake up your parents or wheezie. rafe notices your struggle and swiftly reaches up to cover your mouth with his free hand, muffling your sweet moans.
he gathers some of the wetness dripping out of your cunt before trailing his fingers all the way up to your clit, rubbing it gently. your eyes roll back, hips bucking up against his hand instinctively. the way your swollen bud throbs beneath his fingertips is going to make you mad. he begins to touch your clit in fast, tight circles, his other hand still holding your mouth shut to keep you quiet.
he leans in to whisper against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "if you make a sound, i'll stop, got it?"
you nod obediently in response, making your best effort to comply; you don't want him to stop doing this, never. as a reward, rafe slides a thick finger down your slit and presses it against your clenched entry, steadily applying pressure until your tight muscles finally give in and allow his digit ingress.
"so fuckin' tight," he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his finger.
withdrawing his finger almost all the way out, he teases your entrance with the tip, making you tremble with anticipation before pushing it back in to the knuckle, his palm cupping your mound as he starts to thrust in a smooth, lazy rhythm. you swallow a whiny cry while your eyelids flutter shut, pretty face scrunched in a blissful expression.
rafe works his finger in and out of your slick pussy slowly, marveling at how your velvety walls flutter around the digit. he curls it inward, searching for that special spot that's guaranteed to drive you wild.
after a few experimental pokes, rafe's fingertip finally brushes over your g-spot, eliciting a muffled moan from under his palm. he smiles wickedly against your skin, and you shudder in his grasp, pleasure waves running through your body.
"that's it, sweetheart... feel good?" he croons softly, fingering you nice and deep.
you can't bring yourself to reply, the sensation of his large digit fucking your pussy, added to the constant rubbing of his palm against your puffy clit has your mind feeling all fuzzy. your body language is the only answer he needs, though.
rafe leans in to tenderly nip at your neck, his hot mouth latching onto your slender throat as he keeps pumping his finger steadily in and out of your dripping cunt. he knows you're close when he feels your inner muscles starting to clench erratically around his digit.
"rafe," you moan onto his palm as you feel this new, strange sensation building in your tummy, pussy tingling so nicely.
heaven help him. hearing you, his stepsister, moan his name like that makes rafe's hard dick throb almost painfully against his zipper.
and then it happens. the coil in your belly suddenly snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as you cum for the very first time, on your stepbrother's hand. rafe continues to pump his finger in and out of your spasming cunt as you ride out your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure.
when you finally come down from your high, you're all shaky and flustered in his arms, panting heavily to try and catch your breath. he has a satisfied smirk on his lips while he slowly withdraws his slick digit from your quivering hole to bring it up to his mouth and lick it clean, savoring your taste.
"did so well for me, baby," he coos as he uncovers your mouth, gently turning your head to the side to press a kiss to your swollen, red lips.
you return it sloppily, eyes fluttering shut in the process, and you sigh contently against his mouth. he can't help but rock his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard on against you.
"did i make you feel good?" he asks between little kisses, his breathing growing uneven. you nod in response. "yeah? then it's just fair you make me feel good too, sweetheart... wanna do that f'me?"
"yes," you whisper against his lips without even thinking, feeling him smirk into the kiss.
"such a good girl," he praises.
at some point, the porn video playing on his laptop ended, so he simply closes it up and tosses it away, the device landing somewhere on his king size bed. then, he turns you both around, until you are laying on the mattress and he is on top of you.
he is quick to undo his pants and yank them down, just enough to free his raging hard on, which bounces against his abs. let me tell you this, he's big, the tip pink and fat, already leaking precum.
suddenly, realization hits you. this is your stepbrother for god's sake, are you really gonna let him fuck you?
he notices how your body tenses up, one hand reaching to stroke your plush thigh reassuringly while the other wraps around his shaft, giving it a slow pump.
"hey, baby, relax..." he whispers gently, "i'll put just the tip in, yeah? there's nothing wrong with that."
you hesitate. his strong arms slide beneath your legs to tug you closer. then his cock brushes your pussy and you whimper. how are you supposed to say 'no' ?
it's just the tip.
"mhmm, 'kay" you end up agreeing with a little nod.
rafe flashes you a lopsided smirk, his hand gripping his cock again while the free one yanks your panties aside once more. keeping eye contact, he slowly glides the fat head of his dick up and down your drenched slit, coating it thoroughly in your arousal. you shudder as his tip eventually meets your puffy clit, the gentle rubbing sending shivers down your spine.
"rafe," you whimper.
rafe's eyelids droop, a low hum of pleasure escaping his throat as he continues to slowly drag the reddened head up and down your chubby pussy lips with squelching sounds. his breathing grows heavier the longer he teasingly rolls it against your slick folds, reveling in your breathy whimpers. he feels like he's about to burst already, pre-cum steadily leaking from the tip and onto your flesh.
he can't fucking take this anymore.
with a slow, gentle thrust, he sinks his cock into your warm, slippery pussy, just the head breaching your entrance before he pauses, savoring the initial penetration. his eyes lock onto yours, his pupils blown wide with lust.
"jesus, fuck." he grunts.
your cunt starts fluttering around him. he has barely slided the first two inches in, as he promised, but he's so thick that even that feels like a tight fit. you let out a moan, which mingles with a strained groan from rafe as your velvety walls clench tightly around his swollen cockhead.
"gonnaâ might just nut already, shit" rafe mutters through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to just drive forward and hilt himself deep. "so goddamn tight."
your hips buck unconsciously against his, making him slip in just a tad further âwhich nearly makes him lose all his self-control. somehow, he manages to keep his shit together, hips rocking slowly to thrust in and out of you while his veiny hand strokes the rest of his shaft.
you're totally enthralled by the sight, liquid heat pooling in your belly while you watch him use your body for his pleasure. he looks so good, you can't believe he's real. your chest fills with pride at the knowledge that you're making this greek god feel good.
this is the fastest rafe has ever cum, the movement of his hips becoming jerky and sloppy after a few minutes as he spills his sperm inside you. he's panting heavily, sweat beading on his brow while his fist squeezes the base of his cock tightly.
you're left wanting more when he slowly pulls out, pussy stretched out and leaking white spurts of cum. he gazes down at you with a smirk, lightly tapping the head of his dick against your swollen clit, which has you writhing beneath him.
"so fuckin' gorgeous stuffed full of my cum," he whispers, his cock smearing the sticky substance all over your slit. you mewl in response. "hmm, 'm sorry for making such a mess on your pretty pussy, sweetheart, lemme clean it up, yeah?"
you blush in response when he leans forward, throwing your creamy thighs over his broad shoulders, to put his mouth onto your sex. you almost cry at the heavenly feeling, his playful tongue delving between your folds to lap up his own release. he cleans you up thoroughly, only to mess you up again right after, his spit soaking your cunt as he makes you cum again.
after tonight, you are cancelling that date, that's for sure.
#obx#outer banks#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron outer banks#outer banks rafe#obx rafe cameron#outer banks rafe cameron#rafe smut#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x virgin!reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x innocent!reader#just the tip#stepbro!rafe#stepbrother!rafe cameron#rafe cameron x stepsister!reader
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HEARTBREAK: LIVE | 44
All | MASTERLIST (SMAU)
Pairing â Ex-BF!Rafe x Radio Host!Female Reader
Summary â You and Rafe were the perfect couple. But after a mysterious breakup, you went off the grid. When your best friends pulls you back into the spotlight to host a on-campus radio show, you find yourself opening up to the world about your experience. This time, with everyone listeningâincluding Rafe. And him? He wants you back.
Content â college au, football player!rafe au
Navigation â Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45
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Bad at love || Frat boy!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: Sleeping with your enemyâs boyfriend was reckless, but whatâs worse is the undeniable pull between you both afterwardâa dangerous attraction that refuses to be ignored.
Warnings: cheating, suggestive content
Word count: 3,373
A/n: I actually didn't have much of plot line when I started this but I just kept on writing and writing... ALSO doesnât this ong give major frat boy!rafe vibes?
MASTERLIST (frat boy!rafe x reader au masterlist)
divider by @h-aewo
âAnd you missed Saturdayâs practice, which was so important!â Katieâs sharp voice cuts through the chatter of the crowded party as she steps in front of you, arms crossed tightly. Her blue eyes burn with frustration, but youâre barely paying her any attention, your focus shifting to the drink table behind her. With a sigh, you roll your eyes and turn away, brushing her off without a word.
Her tone grows more demanding, her voice rising above the background noise. âYou canât keep missing practices like this! If you keep it up, Iâll have no choice but to kick you off the team.â The irritation in her voice is palpable, her stance stiff with authority she doesnât seem to realise sheâs lost. At her words, you canât help the mocking scoff that escapes your lips.
Slowly, you turn back to face her, tilting your head as you look down at the shorter blonde. âYeah? And how exactly are you gonna do that, Katie?â you ask, voice dripping with sarcasm. âYouâre not captain anymore, remember?â Her face flushes red, her anger mounting, but you donât give her a chance to reply. Shouldering past her, you mutter, âMove,â as though sheâs nothing more than a minor inconvenience in your path.
âIâm not done talking to you!â she yells after you, her voice carrying above the noise. âWell, I am,â you call back coolly without looking over your shoulder, throwing a dismissive wave in her direction. âHave fun, Katie!â The smirk on your face grows as you reach the kitchen, leaving her fuming in the middle of the room. You shake your head, exhaling as you grab a fresh drink, relieved to be away from her relentless nagging.
~
You lean against the counter in the kitchen, taking a sip of the drink you just poured, the alcohol beginning to blur the edges of your irritation. Katieâs voice still rings in your ears, but the buzz in your system makes it easier to push aside. She always did have a way of making everything about her, and you werenât in the mood to entertain it tonight. Spinning around to head back to the party, you stumble slightly, your drink sloshing in the cup as you collide with a broad chest.
âWoah, easy there,â a smooth, amused voice says as a strong hand steadies your arm. Looking up, your hazy gaze meets Rafe Cameronâs sharp blue eyes, the smirk on his face almost as cocky as his usual demeanor. The dim lighting catches on his perfectly styled hair and the faint gold chain resting against his collarbone. He was the frat president, and Katieâs boyfriend, of course. Not that youâd ever paid much attention to himâuntil now.
âRafe,â you mumble, your voice slurring just slightly as you step back, feeling your cheeks heat up. âDidnât see you there.â âClearly,â he teases, his hand lingering on your arm for a beat too long before he lets go. âYou alright? Youâre looking a little⊠tipsy.â His smirk widens, eyes scanning your face with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skips under his gaze.
âIâm fine. Just needed a drink to deal with your girlfriend.â His brow raises at that, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. âKatie giving you hell again?â He says, his mouth curling into that boyish grin âYou could say that,â you mutter, taking another sip of your drink. âSheâs always got something to say. Like Iâm supposed to care about her opinion.â Rafe chuckles, the sound low and warm, and it sends a strange thrill down your spine.
âYeah, well, Katieâs got a⊠particular way of handling things. I usually just let her win the argumentâitâs easier that way.â You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. âSounds exhausting.â âIt is,â he admits with a shrug, leaning casually against the counter beside you. âBut sheâs Katie. You know how she is.â His voice carries a mix of exasperation and fondness, but thereâs something else there tooâsomething you canât quite place.
âYeah, well, good luck with that,â you say dryly, though your eyes linger on him longer than they should. The alcohol is making you bolder, loosening your inhibitions as you study his sharp jawline, the way his lips quirk into an easy smirk. âWhat about you?â he asks suddenly, tilting his head. âWhatâs your excuse for being here, drinking like itâs your job tonight?â You shrug, leaning against the counter beside him.
âNeeded a break. From life. From her.â You glance up at him, the corner of your mouth twitching into a small smirk. âGuess youâd understand that better than anyone.â His laugh is softer this time, almost genuine, and he shifts a little closer. âMaybe I do.â The conversation lingers, the tension between you growing with each passing second. The party outside feels like a distant hum, your attention locked solely on him.
Youâre not sure if itâs the alcohol or something else entirely, but when his hand brushes against yours, neither of you pulls away. Before you can stop yourself, youâre leaning in closer, and so is he. His lips hover near yours, his breath warm and intoxicating. âThis⊠probably isnât a good idea,â he murmurs, though his tone lacks conviction. âProbably not,â you whisper back, but neither of you moves to stop it.
The kiss is electric, a mix of pent-up frustration and reckless abandon. Itâs messy and heated, your hands finding their way to his hair as his grip tightens on your waist. It doesnât take long for the two of you to stumble out of the kitchen, his arm around your waist as he leads you upstairs, away from prying eyes. By the time you reach the bedroom, logic is a distant memory, lost in the haze of alcohol and the magnetic pull between you.
~
âRafe,â you whisper, your voice barely steady as you lie back against the pillow, your chest still heaving. Turning your head, you catch him already staring at you, his blue eyes darker than usual, shadowed with an emotion you canât quite read. Your stomach twists, and the weight of what just happened starts to settle in. âI think weâre fucked.â
Your words hang heavy in the air, cutting through the stillness of the room. You groan, sitting up and burying your face in your hands for a moment before glancing around for your clothes. The reality of what youâve done is pounding at the edges of your hazy mind. Rafe exhales sharply beside you, dragging a hand through his tousled hair as he leans back against the headboard.
âYeah,â he mutters, his voice low, almost resigned. âNo shit.â The awkward shuffle of finding your clothes fills the silence. You spot your skirt crumpled on the floor and grab it, the fabric catching slightly as you pull it up your legs. A nervous chuckle escapes your lips as you fumble with the zipper, your hands trembling. âIf Katie finds out about thisâŠâ you start, the words catching in your throat.
Rafe rubs his forehead, his expression darkening. âI know,â he groans, his tone sharp with frustrationâat himself, at you, at the entire situation. Throwing the sheets off his lap, he swings his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his jeans. âI know, alright?â You glance at him as he dresses, his movements brisk and tense, his jaw clenched so tightly you can see the muscle twitch.
The easy confidence he usually wears like a second skin is gone, replaced with something rawer. âThis was so stupid,â you mutter, more to yourself than him, tugging your top over your head and smoothing it down. You take a shaky breath, pressing your lips together as the full weight of your actions hits you. âWhat the hell were we thinking?â
Rafe scoffs softly, shaking his head as he zips his jeans. âWe werenât thinking,â he says flatly, his voice edged with self-loathing. âThatâs the fucking problem.â For a moment, you just stand there, staring at him. The silence between you is suffocating, heavy with unspoken words and the growing weight of regret. The distant hum of the party downstairs feels surreal, like it belongs to another world entirely.
âI canât believe I let this happen,â you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. Rafe looks up, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch. âYouâre not the only one,â he says quietly, his tone softer now, though thereâs still a sharp edge to it. âI didnât exactly stop it either.â His words donât feel like comfort, but thereâs an honesty to them that makes your chest tighten.
You press your fingers against your temples, trying to piece together a rational thought, but the alcohol still buzzing in your veins makes everything feel blurry and far away. âThis canât happen again,â you say firmly, breaking the silence. Your voice wavers slightly, but you push through, needing to set some kind of boundary before this spirals further. âYou know that, right?â
Rafe doesnât respond right away. He leans against the wall, dragging his hand down his face before meeting your gaze. His jaw works like he wants to argue, but finally, he nods. âYeah,â he says simply, but the hesitation in his voice makes your stomach twist. His eyes linger on you, trailing over your face like heâs memorising it, and it makes you feel vulnerable in a way you werenât prepared for.
You grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you move toward the door. Your fingers curl around the handle, but you pause, glancing back at him. âWe need to be careful,â you murmur, your voice softer now, almost pleading. âIf she even suspectsâŠâ
âIâll handle it,â he cuts you off, his tone firmer this time. Thereâs a flicker of something in his expressionâdetermination, maybeâbut it doesnât do much to ease the knot in your chest. With a small nod, you turn and slip out into the hallway, the noise of the party growing louder as you descend the stairs.
The music and laughter feel like a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside you, and you canât shake the feeling that this was more than just a drunken mistake. But as much as you tell yourself itâs over, the way your heart skips at the thought of him suggests otherwise.
~
âWant a lift?â The voice, low and unmistakably smug, pulls your attention away from your phone. You lift your head and squint into the afternoon sun to find Rafe sitting in his truck, leaning casually out of the window. His forearm rests on the edge of the door, his fingers tapping lazily against the metal. The faint smirk on his lips is one youâve come to know all too well.
You blink, momentarily stunned, before narrowing your eyes at him. âExcuse me?â Rafe tilts his head, as if you hadnât heard him correctly the first time. âI said, do you want a lift?â His tone is smooth, confident, like heâs entirely in control of the situationâand itâs already starting to get under your skin. You glance around quickly, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes dart over the school parking lot.
Your stomach churns as you spot the doors to the main building, half expecting Katie and her entourage to walk out at any moment. âAre you seriously asking me that right now?â you hiss, your voice low and sharp. Rafe doesnât seem the least bit fazed by your reaction. If anything, the smirk on his face deepens. âWhatâs the problem? Need me to repeat myself again?â
Before you can fire back, the sound of doors opening grabs your attention. The distinct, high-pitched laughter of Katie and her friends echoes across the lot, sending a jolt of panic through you. Your stomach twists as your eyes lock onto them, walking out in a tight-knit group, their voices carrying. Katie, of course, is leading the pack, her blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight.
Your pulse quickens. Without thinking twice, you yank open the truck door and climb in, muttering, âFucks sake,â as you scramble into the passenger seat. The door slams shut, and Rafe chuckles, the sound low and teasing as he shifts the truck into gear. âWell, that was easier than I thought,â he murmurs, the truck lurching forward as he hits the gas.
You glance over your shoulder, watching as Katie and her friends grow smaller in the distance. Relief washes over you, but itâs quickly replaced by the heat of embarrassmentâand angerâas you snap your head back toward him. âWhat the hell, Rafe?â you spit, your arms crossing defensively over your chest. âDo you enjoy messing with people, or is it just some kind of hobby for you?â
Rafe glances at you, his smirk firmly in place. âI didnât force you to get in,â he points out, his tone maddeningly casual. âYouâre the one who panicked and dove into my truck like you were running from the cops.â You scoff, throwing him a glare. âI didnât dive in. Iââ You pause, clenching your jaw. âThis is so typical of you. Showing up with your stupid truck, your stupid smirkââ
âMy charm?â he cuts in, throwing you a sideways glance.âYour nerve,â you correct sharply, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrays you. Rafe laughs softly, the sound low and infuriatingly smug as he shifts gears and speeds up. The tension in the cab is palpable, thick enough to cut through, but he seems entirely at ease. His fingers drum lightly against the steering wheel, as if he has all the time in the world.
âRelax,â he drawls after a moment, his tone smooth and teasing. âYou got away unnoticed. Katieâs none the wiser. You grit your teeth, turning your gaze out the window. The scenery blurs as the truck tears down the road, but the distant hum of the engine does little to settle your nerves. The weight of his attention is impossible to ignore, like a spotlight burning into the side of your face.
After a long pause, Rafe speaks again, his voice quieter now but still tinged with amusement. âYou know, I didnât think youâd actually get in.â You whip your head around to face him, your brow furrowing. âThen why did you ask?â He shrugs, one corner of his mouth quirking up in that maddening half-smile. âCall it a hunch. Figured you might surprise me.â
His words hang in the air, and for a moment, youâre not sure how to respond. Thereâs something about the way he says itâlike heâs already won some unspoken gameâthat makes your chest tighten. You shake your head, scoffing under your breath as you turn your gaze back to the road. âYouâre insufferable,â you mutter, though the words lack the bite you intended.
Rafeâs laugh rumbles softly beside you, and even though you hate to admit it, the sound sends a shiver down your spine. You press your lips into a thin line, determined not to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. âWhat were you even doing there? Were you following me?â you snap, narrowing your eyes as you turn toward him.
Rafe glances at you, his smirk deepening as if he finds your accusation amusing. âDonât flatter yourself, Y/l/n,â he drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. âI was going to pick up Katie.â Your eyes widen in disbelief, your jaw dropping slightly. âYou were going to pick up your girlfriend and yet, here we are?â you repeat, your voice sharp and incredulous.
Rafe chuckles again, clearly unbothered by the situation. âLooks that way, doesnât it?â You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. âWow. Great boyfriend you are,â you mutter, rolling your eyes as you turn to look out the window. âSheâs probably going to wonder where the hell you are.â
He shrugs, completely nonchalant. âSheâll be fine. Sheâll find a way back.â You whip your head back toward him, your mouth falling open. âAre you serious right now? You left her stranded, and you donât even care?â âSheâs not stranded,â Rafe says, his voice calm, as if youâre the one being unreasonable. âHer friends are there. Theyâll give her a ride or something.â
You shake your head in disbelief, leaning back in your seat. âUnbelievable,â you mutter under your breath. Rafe glances at you again, his lips twitching as if heâs holding back another laugh. âWhat?â âYou,â you snap, gesturing toward him. âYouâre acting like itâs no big deal, but if the roles were reversed, I guarantee youâd lose your mind if she ditched you for someone else.â
His smirk falters, just slightly, and for a moment, you think you mightâve struck a nerve. But then he shrugs again, the nonchalance returning as he shifts in his seat. âMaybe,â he admits, his voice quieter now, though thereâs a glint in his eye that you canât quite read. âBut Iâm here with you, arenât I?â
The weight of his words hangs in the air, and your stomach twists uncomfortably. Youâre not sure what bothers you moreâhis blatant disregard for Katie or the fact that a small, shameful part of you likes the attention.
~
Rafeâs hands move with purpose, sliding under your shirt, the heat of his palms against your skin sending a jolt through you. You know you should stop thisâyou know the consequences of what youâre letting happen. But in the haze of his touch, every rational thought feels distant, muffled by the way heâs looking at you, like youâre the only thing he wants in the world.
He leans in again, his lips brushing yours, but this time, the kiss is slower, deeper. Itâs as if heâs savouring you, drawing out every moment. His fingers trail up your sides, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake, and when he presses his body against yours, you feel yourself giving in completely.
Your hands find their way into his hair, tugging lightly, earning a low, guttural sound from him that sends a thrill through your entire body. He pulls away for just a second, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath. âThis is insane,â you whisper, your voice shaky but soft.
âI know,â he murmurs, his thumb brushing your cheek in a way that feels too tender for the fire burning between you. âBut I donât care.â And neither do you. Rafe leans down, capturing your lips once more, and this time, thereâs no hesitation. His hands move to the hem of your shirt, and with your silent permission, he pulls it over your head, discarding it onto the floor.
His eyes rake over you, filled with a hunger that makes your skin flush under his gaze. âGod, youâre gorgeous,â he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper, before his lips find your collarbone, then the curve of your shoulder. Your heart is pounding so hard itâs a wonder he canât hear it. You reach for the buttons of his shirt, your fingers fumbling in your haste.
He chuckles softly, taking over and shrugging it off in one smooth motion, revealing the toned lines of his chest. Rafeâs lips are on yours again before you can fully process the sight, and he gently lowers you onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath your weight as he hovers above you, his hands braced on either side of your head, caging you in.
âAre you sure?â he asks, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, his piercing blue eyes searching yours. You hesitate for the briefest of moments, the gravity of what youâre about to do settling over you. But then you nod, your hands finding their way to his waist, pulling him closer. âIâm sure,â you whisper. Thatâs all he needs.
Rafe kisses you again, his lips moving against yours with a mix of passion and restraint, like heâs holding back just enough to savour every moment. The world outside fades awayâKatie, the consequences, everything. All that matters is him, and the way he makes you feel like the centre of his universe. And for the rest of the night, he does just that.
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Shelter in the Storm
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader
Summarize: Rafe is acting weird during the storm and youâre about to find out why
Warning(s): mention of gun, protective Rafe.
A/N: feedback always make me happier, love yâall â also tysm for all the love in my fics
The storm outside was relentless, sheets of rain hammering against the windows. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a low growl that felt too close, too ominous. Rafe stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the faint glow of the firelight. His jaw was tense, his hands flexing open and shut at his sides.
You had packed a bag and driven to Rafe's earlier today when you received a warning in your phone about the upcoming storm, not wanting to risk staying at yours to see the damage - your small house in the Cut had barely survived in the last one and neither you nor Rafe wanted to risk it. Not when his place was as much as yours as his.
You watched him from the couch, bundled up in an oversized sweater, your book abandoned beside you. He hadnât spoken much since the phone call earlier, but his restlessness told you everything. Something was wrong.
âRafe.â you said softly, pulling his attention away from the storm.
He turned, his blue eyes darker than usual, stormier. He didnât respond, just studied you for a moment like he was trying to memorize every detail. It wasnât unusual for him to brood, but tonight, something felt different. He never got that weird over business that went wrong.
âYouâve been pacing for twenty minutes, quiet ever since I've arrived. Whatâs going on, baby?â you asked, your voice laced with concern.
Rafe exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. âItâs nothing you need to worry about.â
You frowned, sitting up straighter. âDonât do that. Donât shut me out.â
âItâs not shutting you out, alright? â he snapped, then immediately softened his tone as he noticed you flinch, his chest tightening with guilty. âItâs keeping you safe.â
âFrom what?â
His eyes flicked away, unable to hold your gaze. His silence was answer enough.
âRafeâŠâ You stood, crossing the room to stand in front of him. Your hand rested lightly on his clothed chest. âWhat arenât you telling me?â
He hesitated, torn between wanting to protect you and needing to tell someone. He didn't like to keep things from you. Finally, he sighed. âYou remember Morroco?â
Your brow furrowed. âThe trip? Of course.â
He had called you to meet him by the beach, kissing you goodbye as he said he had an important last meeting to close a massive deal and that it'd probably take him a few weeks before he was back.
âIt wasn't just a trip.â he said bitterly. âItâs a mess. A deal went sideways, I went after Groff to get my money back and then... Then there was this blue crown treasure hunt with those... pogues. We crossed some people." His jaw clenched. âNow theyâre coming for me.â
Your blood ran cold as you tried to process everything. Not even paying a big attention to the fact that Rafe had lied to you. âThey?â
âMercenariesâ he admitted, the word dripping with disdain. âHired guns who donât care about anything but the paycheck and that fucking crown that slipped away from our fingers."
Fear pricked at the edges of your mind, you could hear your heartbeats in your ears. Mercenaries. âAnd you think theyâll come here, after you?â
âI donât know,â he admitted, his voice low. âBut Iâm not taking any chances.â
You stepped closer, your hands gripping his arms. âRafe, we should call someone - Shoupe, the poliââ
âNo,â he interrupted sharply. âThe cops wonât do anything. Iâll handle it, okay? I can take care of my own shit."
âYou canât handle this alone, Rafe. We're talking about mercenaries and not a cougar whose money went sideways in a deal!â you argued, your voice rising slightly.
âIâm not letting you get involved,â he said firmly, his hands resting on your shoulders. His touch was warm, grounding.
âIâm already involved,â you countered, your voice softening. âI care about you, Rafe. That means Iâm in this with you, whether you like it or not.â
His expression cracked, the tough exterior slipping to reveal the vulnerability underneath. âYou donât get it,â he whispered, his hands sliding down your arms. âYouâre the only thing Iâve got thatâs good. If something happens to you because of meââ He broke off, shaking his head.
âNothingâs going to happen to me,â you said, stepping even closer. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. âYouâre here. Youâll keep me safe.â
He stared at you, his breath hitching slightly. âYou have too much faith in me,â he murmured, almost to himself.
âI have the right amount,â you whispered back.
For a moment, the tension hung heavy between you, the storm outside roaring as if reflecting the chaos inside him. Then, before you could say anything else, Rafeâs hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks.
âYouâre so damn stubborn,â he muttered, a small, almost pained smile tugging at his lips.
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were swallowed as his lips met yours. The kiss was desperate, almost frantic, like he needed to remind himself you were here, with him, safe. His hands slid into your hair, holding you to him as if letting go wasnât an option.
Your hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. The warmth of his body, the way he kissed you â it all felt like a promise, and a plea rolled into one.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing heavy. âIâm not letting them get near you,â he vowed, his voice raw.
âThey wonât,â you assured him, nodding as your hands smoothed over his chest.
He kissed you again, slower this time, his hands skimming down your sides. When he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around your waist, you felt the full weight of his fear and his determination.
âI should send you away,â he muttered against your hair, his lips brushing your temple. âSomewhere safe. Away from Outer Banks."
You leaned back, meeting his gaze. âNo. Iâm staying right here. With you.â
Rafe stared at you, his jaw tightening. âYouâre insane.â
âMaybe,â you said with a small smile, not wanting him to know how terrified you actually were. âBut so are you. Weâre a good match, remember?"
Despite himself, he chuckled, his grip on you tightening. âYouâre going to drive me crazy.â
âYou wouldnât have it any other way,â you teased.
He didnât answer; he just pressed another kiss on your forehead before pulling you into his chest. His hand smoothed over your back, lingering there as if the simple act could protect you from the world.
After the conversation, the weight of the threat hanging over him, Rafe couldnât let you out of his sight. He needed to feel you close, needed to know you were safe in a way that words couldnât assure him - and it didn't help that you decided to organize everything that was out of place, moving between the rooms without saying anything. He knew you were stressed. You always clean whenever anxiety hits you.
âCâmon,â he murmured, his voice low as his arms slid around your waist.
You blinked up at him, confused. âWhat are you doing?â
âTaking you to bed,â he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Your cheeks flushed. âI can walk, Rafe.â
âNot tonight,â he said, shaking his head. âLet me do this.â
Before you could protest, Rafe bent down and swept you into his arms as if you weighed nothing. You let out a soft yelp of surprise, your arms instinctively looping around his neck.
âRafeââ
âShh,â he murmured, glancing down at you with a small, almost teasing smirk. âJust let me take care of you for once, okay?â
You pressed your lips together, your cheeks warming at the way he held you so effortlessly, his grip steady and secure. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a calming rhythm that contrasted with the chaos of the storm outside.
The walk to the bedroom was silent, save for the sound of the rain pounding against the roof. Rafe nudged the door open with his foot, carrying you inside. The room was dark except for the faint glow of a lamp on the nightstand, casting warm light over the space.
He set you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering on your hips for a moment before he stepped back. You watched as he moved around the room, double-checking the locks on the windows and door. His movements were methodical, his expression tense.
âRafe,â you said softly, sitting up. âYou donât have to do all this.â
He glanced at you over his shoulder, his lips pressing into a thin line. âYes, I do.â
You wanted to argue, but something in his tone stopped you. He was carrying more than just worry â it was guilt, fear, and the overwhelming need to protect you. It was his way of tricking himself into believing he had some control over the whole situation.
Once he was satisfied, Rafe returned to the bed. You noticed the subtle way he opened the drawer of his bedside table, checking the loaded gun inside.
Your stomach tightened. âDo you really think itâll come to that?â
His gaze flicked to you, softening slightly. âItâs just a precaution,â he said, his voice steady.
You nodded, though the thought of him having to use it sent a shiver down your spine.
âCome here,â he said, holding out a hand.
You crawled toward him, settling into his arms as he pulled you close. His body was warm, solid, and the way his arms wrapped around you made you feel like nothing in the world could touch you.
âGet some sleep,â he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
âWhat about you?â you asked, your voice muffled against his chest.
âIâll sleep,â he promised. âJust need to make sure youâre out first.â
You frowned but didnât push further. His hand smoothed over your back in slow, soothing strokes, lulling you into a sense of security.
Eventually, your breathing evened out, and Rafe let out a breath he hadnât realized he was holding.
He stayed awake, his eyes scanning the room, his ears attuned to every sound beyond the rain. Every creak of the house set his muscles on edge, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. But then heâd look down at youâyour peaceful face, your fingers loosely curled against his chest â and the storm inside him would quiet, even if just for a moment.
Carefully, so as not to wake you, Rafe reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered, tracing the curve of your cheek.
âYou donât even know how much you mean to me,â he whispered, his voice so soft it was nearly drowned out by the rain.
His hand moved to your shoulder, then down your arm, his touch light, almost reverent. He wanted to memorize every detailâthe way your skin felt against his, the rise and fall of your breathing, the warmth you radiated.
For a long time, he just watched you, his thumb idly brushing against your arm.
No one would hurt you. Not the mercenaries, not anyone. Heâd burn the world down before he let anyone take you from him.
When his exhaustion finally began to creep in, Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment.
âIâll keep you safe,â he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. âI swear. Even if it's the last thing I do.â
With one hand resting on the gun in the drawer and the other wrapped protectively around you, Rafe finally allowed his eyes to close, the storm outside fading into the background.
As long as you were in his arms, nothing else mattered.
#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron oneshot#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron x you
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iâve been replaying this song so much iâm obsesseddd.. i think i should change it up a little bit and write a few canon fics
đ credit: @/strkeysz on tiktok
#đđ â§âË âč misc#outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey#rafe edit#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#obx imagine
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THE CONTRACTED HEART â Rafe Cameron (09)
MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader
Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.
Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.
Word Count: 4.7k
Aliyah's Notes: y'all are getting fed cause this chapter and the next one are gonna be cute asf so enjoy :)
Three days before the engagement party felt like an endless marathon, with every hour packed to the brim with decisions and errands. The morning started earlyâtoo early for your likingâas Aisha and Nina practically dragged you out of bed.
Nina, ever the âmomâ of the group, had already prepared an itinerary. She stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, her phone in hand, while you slumped in a chair, still clinging to the remnants of sleep. âAlright, ladies,â Nina began, her tone brisk, âweâve got a packed schedule. Venue first, then flowers, then caterers. Weâll fit in the designer appointment after lunch, assuming someone,â her eyes flicked pointedly toward you, âdoesnât take forever to make decisions.â
Aisha smirked, sipping her coffee as she leaned against the counter. âYou know sheâll take forever. She was debating the color of napkins for twenty minutes for her birthday party.â
âBecause they matter!â you protested, sitting up straighter, your natural energy kicking in. âThe wrong napkin can throw off the entire table aesthetic. Imagine gold chargers with plain white napkinsâhorrible!â
Aisha groaned dramatically, while Nina pinched the bridge of her nose. âGod give me strength,â Nina muttered in Tagalog under her breath before clapping her hands. âAlright, letâs move. The decorator is expecting us in twenty minutes, and Iâm not letting us be late.â
The three of you piled into Ninaâs car, and the drive to the venue was filled with your endless chatter. You couldnât help yourself; you were excited. Ever since your night at Rafeâs, youâve been walking around with a weight lift off your shoulders, and a smile on your face. âOkay, but seriously, do you think white and gold is too basic? Should I add a pop of color? Like blush pink? Or emerald green! Oh, that could be so chicââ
âBreathe, Miss. Yapper,â Aisha interrupted, shooting you a look from the front seat. âYouâve already settled on white and gold. Donât backtrack now.â
âSheâs just overthinking again,â Nina said from the driverâs seat, her voice calm but firm. âYou always do this, sweetie. Just trust your instincts. Theyâre good⊠most of the time.â
âMost of the time?!â you repeated, feigning offense.
âGirl, youâre the one who almost ordered heart-shaped balloons for your exâs retirement party,â your best friend deadpanned.
âHe always complained about his job, alright! I thought he was happy to retire.â
The two of them burst into laughter, and you couldnât help but join in. They always knew how to make you laugh, even when your perfectionism threatened to take over.
When you arrived at the venue, the decorator was already waiting, surrounded by samples of linens, centerpieces, and lighting options. The grand ballroom looked beautiful even in its unfinished state, with its high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows letting in streams of sunlight. But you could already see a million tiny things that needed to be fixed or adjusted.
Nina took charge of logistics, confirming delivery times and setups with the decorator, while Aisha kept you in check. Every time you tried to change somethingâa table arrangement here, a floral display thereâAisha would cross her arms and give you a warning glare.
âFocus, Y/N. Youâre going to drive this poor decorator insane,â Aisha muttered as you debated, for the third time, whether the table runners should have a satin or matte finish.
âItâs not insane to want things to be perfect,â you argued, though your voice was tinged with doubt.
âItâs insane when youâre deciding between two things that look exactly the same,â Aisha countered.
âPale beige and normal beige are completely differentââ
Nina swooped in to mediate, her tone soothing. âLook, kids, both options are gorgeous. Y/N, pick one and move on. We still have three more stops today.â
You sighed, finally nodding and pointing to the matte finish. The decorator gave you a grateful smile, and you moved on to the next decision.
By the time you left the venue, your head was spinning, but there was no time to slow down. The next stop was the florist, where the three of you pored over bouquets and arrangements.
âPeonies are elegant, but are they too soft for the theme?â you mused aloud, holding up a sample.
âPeonies are fine,â Nina assured you, already checking her phone for the next appointment.
âRoses are boring,â Aisha chimed in, inspecting a cluster of orchids. âBut these could work. Theyâre dramatic. Like you.â
You stuck your tongue out at her, earning a rare laugh from Nina. âSheâs not wrong,â Nina said with a small smile.
The florist walked you through the arrangements, but your perfectionism struck again. You wanted everything to complement the aesthetic without feeling overdone. Nina stepped in when she sensed you starting to spiral.
âY/N, just pick a theme and stick with it,â she said gently but firmly. âYou canât have every flower in the world at your party. Less is more.â
Aisha nodded in agreement. âListen to her. Sheâs right. For once.â
Nina rolled her eyes but didnât dignify the comment with a response.
Eventually, you settled on a mix of peonies, orchids, and eucalyptus, feeling a little more confident as you left the florist.
Lunch was a quick stop at a café, where you barely had time to scarf down a sandwich before heading to your next appointment. The designer fitting was a whirlwind of fabrics, sequins, and pins, with you trying on dress after dress while Nina and Aisha offered their unfiltered opinions.
By the end of the day, you were utterly spent. You stumbled through the door of your apartment, exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter onto the floor, and flopped onto the couch with a moan. Your feet ached, your head was pounding, and the thought of the work you have for tomorrow made you want to cry.
Just as you were debating whether to order takeout or crawl into bed and call it a night. Your phone buzzedâ-your new phone that you bought yesterday after losing your original one and your keys at the charity eventâ-on the coffee table. You reached for it, squinting at the screen.
Rafe: âLongest. Day. Ever.â
A small smile tugged at your lips despite your fatigue. You propped yourself up against the armrest and typed back.
You: âTell me about it. Iâm so dead! Who knew choosing flowers could feel like a full-body workout?â
His response came almost immediately.
Rafe: âYeah? Well, at least you didnât have to run for AN HOUR!!! My legs feel like theyâre about to give up on me.â
You: âPoor baby. Want me to send you a trophy for Most Exhausted Future FiancĂ©-to-Be?â
Rafe: âHa. Ha. So funny.â
Rafe: âAre you sure weâre not married yet? You already sound like a nagging wife.â
The audacity of him made you chuckle and roll your eyes. You typed quickly, unable to help yourself.
You: âExcuse you? If Iâm a nagging wife, then youâre a whiny husband.â
Rafe: âWhatever you say, nagging wife.â
You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you sank further into the couch. The teasing back-and-forth was an oddly comforting way to unwind after such a chaotic day.
You: âSeriously though, did you at least eat? Or are you surviving off your ego again?â
Rafe: âDoes a protein bar and water count?â
You groaned audibly, your fingers flying across the screen.
You: âNo, Rafe. A protein bar and water do NOT count. A protein bar is not food; itâs a snack. Please tell me youâve got something decent in your fridge.â
Rafe: âDefine âdecentââŠâ
You: âIâm going to kill you.â
Rafe: âThatâs very romantic, baby, but youâre avoiding the question. Whatâs the verdict? Is my fridge decent enough for you, Your Honor?â
You: âNo.â
You: âKnowing you, itâs probably full of water bottles, expired vegetables, and mystery leftovers. Am I wrong?â
Rafe: âI donât like this attack on my character.â
You: âAnswer the question, Cameron.â
Rafe: âFine. Maybe youâre right. I donât have the energy to argue. Or to cook, for that matter.â
You sighed again, a twinge of concern sneaking past your teasing. You guessed he pushed himself hard during training, but the least he could do was take care of himself after.
You: âAlright, what do you feel like eating? Iâll bring you something.â
Rafe: âWhat? No. You just spent all day running around. You donât have to do that.â
You: âToo late. I offered, and Iâm not taking it back. So, whatâll it be?â
Rafe: â...Youâre really doing this, huh?â
You: âAbsolutely.â
Rafe: âFine. Surprise me. Just nothing too fancy. Iâm starving.â
You: âGot it. Be there in an hour.â
Rafe: âAngel.â
Shaking your head, you pocketed your phone and headed to the kitchen. After a quick assessment of what you had on hand, you decided on a simple but satisfying dish: chicken biryani.Â
Cooking helped you relax after the chaotic day. The process of measuring spices, chopping onions, and stirring the pot grounded you, your mind focused on creating something warm and filling. By the time the dish was done, the air was fragrant with the scent of saffron, cardamom, and cloves.
You packed the biryani into a container, added a side of pudding kheer for balance, and grabbed some naan for good measure. After a quick freshen-up, you were on your way to Rafeâs penthouse.
When he opened the door, the sight of him hit you like a punch to the gut. Rafe stood there in low-hanging sweatpants that clung to his hips, no shirt in sight, leaving every inch of his toned chest and sculpted abs on full display. His damp hair was a tousled mess, drops of water clinging to his skin, catching the light as they slid down the defined lines of his torso. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his gaze raking over you with a mix of cocky amusement and exhaustion. The lazy grin tugging at his lips was enough to make your pulse stutterâand the way his voice dipped, low and teasing, when he finally spoke didnât help.Â
âWell, well,â he drawled. âLook who showed up. My nagging wife bearing gifts.â
You rolled your eyes, forcing yourself to focus on the container in your hands instead of his sexy, very sexy abs. âYou want dinner or not, Cameron? âCause I can take it back?â
He instantly straightened up. âCome in, Your Honor,â he stepped aside to let you in, his grin widening when he saw the bag in your hand.
The penthouse was dimly lit, the warm glow of the city skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You set the food on the kitchen island, trying to ignore the way he was watching you with that infuriating smirk.
You looked at your attire, and rolled your eyes. âStop staring at my ass and grab plates,â you ordered, sounding stern.
âYes, maâam,â he said, clearly amused, but he obeyed.
The two of you sat at the island, the meal between you. You put your hair in a bun, and said; âSo, this is chicken biryaniââ you pointed to it. ââand this is kheer and some naan.â
âThis looks amazing, Y/N,â he let out a groan of appreciation.
You blushed at the compliment. âThank you. You ever had Asian food before?â
âI had sushi and ramen with my teamââ
You chuckled. âI meant South Asian food, Rafe.â
âOh. South AsianâŠâ
âYeah,â you nodded. âYou know, Indian, Sri Lankan, Pakistani, etc⊠Did you?â
He shook his head. âI donât remember. I eat basic white man food, to be honest.â
âI realized,â you laughed. âWell, eat well.â
Rafe took his first bite, and his eyes widened. âYo! This is delicious, what the fuck?â
You smiled, watching as he devoured the food like he hadnât eaten in days. âTold you protein bars wouldnât cut itââ
âYouâre not going to eat?â
âI already ate,â you lied.
âBullshit,â he said, giving you a pointed look. âHave some with me. I donât like eating alone.â
You hesitated for a moment before giving in, grabbing a fork and joining him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, the tension of the day melting away with each bite.
For a brief moment, it didnât feel like you were preparing for an engagement party or navigating the complicated arrangement that had brought you together. It felt easy, naturalâlike something that didnât require overthinking.
You stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, rinsing off the plates and containers. Warm water rushed over your hands as you scrubbed away the remnants of biryani and naan. The scent of spices lingered in the air, a comforting reminder of the meal youâd shared. Behind you, Rafe leaned against the counter, his tall frame relaxed but his eyes fixed on you.
âYou know,â he said, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the faucet, âyou really donât have to do this.â
âYouâve said that already,â you replied without turning around, focusing instead on rinsing the plate in your hand.
âBecause I mean it. I can clean tomorrow,â he quipped, folding his arms across his bare chest.
A chuckle escaped you, and you tossed him a look over your shoulder. âSome of us were raised to clean up immediately after eating. Itâs a brown girl thingâno one leaves the kitchen messy in my house.â
Rafe raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. âAh, so itâs cultural?â
âHell yeah,â you replied, turning back to the sink. âIf my mom ever caught me walking away from a pile of dishes, I wouldnât live to see another day.â
âSounds intense,â he teased, though his tone was laced with curiosity.
âYouâre just white,â you shot back, and he laughed. âBut also⊠I kind of like it,â you admitted, your voice softer now. âIt feels wrong to leave things undone. Like youâre disrespecting the meal or something.â
Rafe was quiet for a moment, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you, not with judgment but something that felt closer to admiration.
âYouâre kind of incredible, you know that?â he said finally.
You blinked, caught off guard. âFor doing the dishes? Your standards are low, Cameron.â
He laughed, the sound deep and genuine. âNo, I mean⊠just in general. You donât have to cook for me or clean up after me, but you do it anyway. And you donât even make a big deal out of it. Youâre just⊠thoughtful.â
His words made you pause, your hands still under the running water. For a man who often masked his feelings behind sarcasm and cockiness, the sincerity in his voice hit you harder than you expected.
âWell,â you said, trying to keep your tone light, âdonât get used to it. Just because I cleaned your kitchen tonight doesnât mean Iâm signing up to do it forever.â
Rafe grinned, stepping closer. âNoted. One-time deal.â
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you shut off the faucet and reached for the dish towel. âBesides, I wasnât cleaning for you. I was cleaning for my own peace of mind.â
âStill,â he said, his voice dropping slightly, âthanks. For all of it.â
You glanced over at him, caught off guard again by the softness in his tone. The cocky grin he usually wore was replaced by something more subdued, more genuine. It made your chest tighten in a way you werenât ready to think about.
âItâs not a big deal,â you said, your voice quieter now. âJust food and a few dishes.â
âTo you, maybe,â he said, leaning against the counter beside you. âBut itâs been a while since anyoneâs done something like this for me. I donât even know the last time I had an actual home-cooked meal.â
That admission tugged at something deep inside you, a mix of sympathy and affection you werenât quite prepared for. You focused on folding the towel in your hands, hoping he wouldnât notice the way your cheeks warmed.
âWell, someone has to make sure you donât live off protein bars and bad decisions,â you said lightly, trying to steer the conversation back into familiar territory.
Rafe chuckled, the sound low and warm. âGuess I should count myself lucky itâs you.â
Your eyes flicked up to his, and for a moment, you forgot how to respond. The way he was looking at youâsoft, unguarded, and almost reverentâmade your heart skip a beat.
âAlright, stop,â you said, breaking the moment and brushing past him toward the counter. âYouâre making it weird.â
âMaking what weird?â he asked, following you with an amused grin.
âEverything,â you shot back, grabbing your bag. âAnd donât think I didnât notice you slacking off while I did all the work. Next time, youâre cleaning.â
âDeal,â he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. âAs long as thereâs a next time.â
You hesitated at the door, looking back at him. His smirk was still there, but so was that softness in his eyes, the one that made it hard to look away. Bag slung over your shoulder and shoes slipped back on, ready to leave Rafeâs penthouse and head home for what was left of the night. The day had drained you, and though the quiet domestic moment youâd just shared with him was niceâunexpectedly soâyou still needed to recharge for tomorrowâs chaos.
âYou donât have to leave yet,â he said, almost too casually, as if trying to disguise the sincerity in his tone.
You paused, glancing back at him. âRafe, itâs late. Iâm exhausted. Youâre exhausted. We both need sleep.â
He shrugged, his mouth curling into that boyish grin that usually meant trouble. âSo? Five more minutes wonât hurt. Sit down, relax. Youâve been running around all day.â
You narrowed your eyes at him but relented, curiosity getting the better of you. âFine. Five minutes,â you muttered, dropping your bag onto the floor again and heading to the couch.
Rafe followed you, sitting on the other end of the couch, though he shifted closer. His arm rested along the backrest, his entire posture relaxed in a way that only made you more aware of him.
âSo,â he began, his tone lighter now, âwhat did you actually do today? Besides fighting with tablecloths and flowers, I mean.â
You groaned, leaning back into the cushions. âIt feels like thatâs all I did. The decorators kept bringing me options that were either too tacky or too plain. And donât even get me started on the florists. Nina kept trying to keep me on schedule, Aisha rolled her eyes at every single arrangement, and I was stuck in the middle.â
His laugh was low and warm. âSounds like a nightmare.â
âIt was,â you said, though there was a faint smile tugging at your lips now. âBut somehow, itâs all starting to come together. Slowly. Painfully. I think weâre making progress.â
He tilted his head, watching you with that quiet intensity he always seemed to have when you werenât paying attention. âYou really care about this party, huh?â
You hesitated, the weight of his gaze making it harder to brush off the question. âYeah, I guess I do,â you admitted softly. âI mean, if we donât make it believable then Iâd have to go back to my country, and I canât let that happen.â
Rafe was silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. The soft light in the room cast shadows across his face, making him look more vulnerable, less guarded than usual.
âYouâre putting so much thought into it,â he said finally, his voice quieter now. âMore than anyone else would, I think.â
You shrugged, your gaze dropping to your hands. âJust doing what needs to be done. Nothing special.â
âIt is special,â he said, his tone firm but gentle.
The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze for a moment that felt like it stretched on forever. There was something unspoken in his expression, something soft and unfamiliar that made your heart stutter.
âOkay, your turn,â you said quickly, needing to break the tension. âWhat did you do today, besides run yourself into the ground?â
His smirk returned, though it didnât quite reach his eyes. âPractice, drills, meetings. The usual.â
âYou make it sound so thrilling,â you teased, crossing your arms.
âOh, itâs a blast,â he said with mock enthusiasm. âNothing like running suicides and lifting until your arms feel like theyâre gonna fall off. And then sitting in a room listening to people tell you how to market yourself better.â
âSounds glamorous,â you said, leaning back into the couch with a small laugh.
Rafe chuckled, his gaze softening as he watched you. âItâs not. But then again, you make flower arrangements sound like boot camp, so I guess weâre even.â
You smiled, letting the comfortable quiet settle between you for a moment. The hum of the city outside was faint but constant, a reminder of how late it had gotten.
âI should really go,â you said, breaking the silence and sitting up.
Rafeâs hand reached out, brushing against yours as he spoke. âYou donât have to.â
The softness in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you stayed still, his fingers lingering near yours. The space between you suddenly felt smaller, charged with something neither of you were ready to name.
âRafe,â you said gently, pulling your hand back, though your voice betrayed your hesitation.
âStay a little longer,â he said, his eyes searching for yours. âThis is⊠nice. Just sitting here. Talking.â
Your heart thudded in your chest at his words, and you looked away, pretending to straighten your bag. âI canât. Iâve got another long day tomorrow, and so do you.â
He sighed but didnât argue, leaning back into the couch. âAlright. But you owe me another five minutes next time.â
You laughed softly, shaking your head as you stood. âSure, Cameron. Iâll pencil it into my busy schedule.â
He followed you to the door again, his presence warm and steady behind you. As you stepped into the hallway, you glanced back at him, your smile softer now.
As you moved toward the door, your bag slung over your shoulder, Rafe trailed behind you, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his sweatpants. The quiet between you was comfortable, a marked contrast to the constant noise of the day. Just as you reached for the handle, his voice broke the silence.
âSo⊠my dad called today,â he said, his tone light but deliberate.
You paused, turning slightly to glance at him, curiosity flickering in your expression. âOh? What about?â
Rafe leaned against the frame, his posture deceptively relaxed. âHe wanted to ask about you.â
The corners of your mouth lifted in a faint smirk. âMe? Why? Should I be flattered or scared?â
He chuckled, though it came with a hint of exasperation. âBecause youâre about to be my life, and you should definitely be flattered. Heâs been⊠curious, I guess. Youâre kind of a hot topic at the moment.â
Your brow furrowed as you adjusted the strap of your bag. âWhat do you mean?â
Rafe shrugged, though his eyes flickered to yours briefly before looking away. âHeâs been asking when he and Rose can meet you. Sarahâs been on my case about it too. She wants to meet you again. Itâs like theyâre more excited about this whole engagement thing than I am.â
There was an edge to his words, not quite bitterness but something close to it, and you stepped back from the door slightly, your curiosity deepening. âIs that⊠a bad thing?â
âNo, itâs not bad,â he said quickly, though his jaw tightened ever so slightly. âItâs just⊠predictable. My dadâs all about appearances, and this engagement makes us look good. You make me look good.â
His words were meant to sound casual, but the weight beneath them was unmistakable. You softened your tone as you leaned against the couch. âRafe, if youâre not comfortable with all this, you can tell me. Iâm not going toââ
âItâs not that,â he interrupted, shaking his head. âItâs just⊠complicated.â
You tilted your head, watching him carefully. âHow so?â
He hesitated, running a hand through his hair in frustration. âMy family has this way of⊠making everything feel like a performance. You know? Like, theyâre not just happy about this engagement because itâs a good thing for me. Theyâre happy because itâs a good thing for them. My dadâs already talking about how itâll âstrengthen the Cameron name,â and Rose keeps mentioning how much she âadores your poise.ââ
You blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. âWait, your step-mother said that? About me?â
He laughed lightly, nodding. âYeah. I think sheâs obsessed with you already.â
You couldnât help the small laugh that escaped you. âWow. And here I thought winning over your dad would be the hard part.â
âOh, donât worry. Heâll grill you like a steak the second he gets a chance,â Rafe said, his tone teasing but his smile tinged with something softer. âHe doesnât trust anyone, especially not when it comes to me.â
You frowned at that, your arms crossing instinctively. âWhy not? Youâre⊠I mean, youâre his son. Shouldnât he trust you the most?â
Rafeâs smile faltered for a split second before he masked it with another shrug. âLetâs just say my track record isnât exactly spotless. And my dad⊠heâs always been more interested in results than reasons. This marriage? Itâs a result he likes. Thatâs all.â
The raw honesty in his words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didnât know how to respond. Finally, you stepped closer, your voice quieter now. âRafe, if this is too muchâif your familyâs involvement is making it harderâI can talk to them. Set boundaries or whatever.â
He shook his head, his eyes meeting yours. âYou donât have to do that. Itâs not your problem to fix.â
âMaybe not,â you said, your gaze unwavering, âbut itâs my problem now too.â
âSuch a good wife already,â he caressed your cheeks softly, the corner of his mouth twitched, his smirk returning faintly. âYouâre really taking this whole âteamworkâ thing seriously, huh?â
âIâm a perfectionist,â you replied, matching his tone. âCanât help it.â
He chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. âYouâre too good at this, you know. My familyâs already halfway in love with you, and you havenât even met them yet.â
âMaybe I should be worried,â you teased, though there was a softness in your voice now.
âDonât be,â he said, his tone quieter as he let his hand down your face. âIf anything, theyâre the ones who should be worried. Youâre gonna walk in there, charm everyone without even trying, and leave me to deal with their unrealistic expectations.â
You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and Rafe found himself leaning just a little closer, caught up in the warmth of the moment.
âWell, if theyâre anything like you,â you said, your voice still tinged with amusement, âIâm sure Iâll survive.â
Rafeâs smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer, something you couldnât quite name. âTheyâre nothing like me,â he said quietly, almost to himself.
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. His gaze lingered on yours, steady and unguarded in a way that made your breath catch.
âRafeâŠâ you began, your voice trailing off as his expression shifted ever so slightly, something unreadable flickering across his face.
But just as quickly as the moment had come, it passed. He straightened, his usual smirk slipping back into place like a mask. âYou should probably get some rest,â he said, his tone lighter now. âYouâve got a big day tomorrow.â
You blinked, startled by the sudden shift, but nodded. âYeah. You too.â
He followed you to the door, his presence steady behind you as you stepped into the hallway. As you turned back to glance at him one last time, his expression softened again, his blue eyes holding yours for a beat longer than necessary.
âGoodnight, Y/N,â he said, his voice quieter now.
âGoodnight, Rafe,â you replied, your chest tightening slightly as you walked away, the weight of his gaze following you long after youâd gone.
chapter ten
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TROUBLE âââ RAFE CAMERON
request for blurb night! : "ev, hear me outâreader is sarahâs best friend who used to babysit wheezie. she's always thought rafe was just some spoiled rich kid until one night he helps her out of a dangerous situation, and she see a different side of him"
The sound of cicadas swells in the sticky summer air as you maneuver your car into the Cameronsâ circular driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The house stands before you, grand and overbearing, like something pulled straight from a Southern Gothic novel. Even after all these years, it still has a way of making you feel out of place, like youâre trespassing on a life far removed from your own.
You killed the engine and take a deep breath, your hands lingering on the steering wheel. Coming here used to feel second natureâa daily part of your routine back when you were just Sarahâs friend who needed extra cash and Wheezie was a chatty eight-year-old who never seemed to run out of energy.
Now, it feels complicated. Itâs not like youâre unwelcome hereâRose is always polite in her distant, Stepford kind of way, and Wheezie practically lights up whenever she sees you. Sarah treats you like family, but thereâs always been one Cameron who makes you feel like youâre walking on eggshells.
Rafe.
Spoiled, sharp-tongued, entitled Rafe, whose condescending smirk had been a permanent fixture of your teenage years. The golden boy with a black hole of a temper, a trust fund, and an ego that stretched for miles. Youâd never understood him, and frankly, youâd never wanted to. He was a hurricane you learned to avoid at all costs, never lingering too long in his orbit.
But life has a funny way of pulling you into places you swore youâd never go.
You grab your bag from the passenger seat and step out into the muggy heat, your sandals crunching against the gravel. Somewhere inside the house, you hear the faint echo of laughterâWheezie, probably, shouting at Sarah over a card game or some other nonsense. The sound makes you smile despite yourself.
You werenât always someone the Cameronsâor anyone from Figure Eight, for that matterâgave the time of day. Growing up, you were just another Pogue, another kid from the Cut with hand-me-down clothes and a chip on your shoulder. The people from Sarahâs world werenât interested in you back then. Why would they be? You had nothing they wantedâno yacht, no country club membership, no sprawling waterfront property. You didnât mind much. You had your own circle, your own rhythm, and you learned to brush off the condescending stares whenever you ventured into their territory.
But everything changed when your dadâs business took off. What started as a small, bare-bones construction company turned into one of the most in-demand firms in the Outer Banks almost overnight. Suddenly, the same people who used to look through you like you were invisible started remembering your name. Invitations to parties youâd never have been considered for started showing up in your mailbox. They werenât just tolerating youâthey wanted you there.
Sarah was one of the first to genuinely befriend you during that whirlwind of change. She wasnât like the others, who only smiled at you because their parents said it was polite or because they wanted a favor from your dad. She liked you for youâyour sarcasm, your groundedness, your tendency to keep it real in a place where everyone else seemed to be faking something. And through Sarah, you met Wheezie.
Wheezie was eight at the time, still caught between childhood and whatever it is that happens when you grow up as a Cameron. She adored you from the start, trailing behind you whenever you came over like a little shadow. You didnât mind. She was funny, curious, and refreshingly unfilteredâa lot more like the kids from the Cut than anyone wanted to admit.
When Rose offhandedly mentioned they needed someone to look after Wheezie while she was busy managing the house (or hosting one of her endless charity luncheons), Sarah volunteered you without hesitation. âSheâs perfect,â Sarah had said with that trademark confidence of hers, as though your schedule had already been cleared.
To your surprise, it worked out. Wheezie loved you, probably because you didnât treat her like a chore or talk down to her like so many others did. You indulged her weird little interests, let her ramble on about books and whatever new drama she overheard in the house. You made her laugh.
And if the Camerons noticed you werenât exactly one of their own, they didnât seem to mind much anymore. After all, in their world, proximity to success was enough to erase just about anything.
Even after a couple years had passed, itâs a little funny how much has stayed the same. Every time you pull into the Cameronsâ driveway, you still get the same sinking feeling, like youâre stepping onto foreign soil without a passport. Except now, itâs become a routine. Cameron game nights.
It started as an extension of the babysitting gigâa casual invite from Sarah, insisting you stay for dinner one night after watching Wheezie. Dinner turned into a board game that Sarah claimed was âsuper quick,â which turned into three hours of family chaos. It was ridiculous, overly competitive, and a little awkward with Rose monitoring everything like a referee, but Wheezie loved having you there, and Sarah was relentless in making sure you felt included.
At some point, it just became normal. Even after Wheezie grew out of needing a babysitter, the tradition stuck. Every week or two, Sarah would text you about game night, and somehow, you always said yes.
âYouâre like an honorary Cameron,â Sarah had joked once, and youâd laughed because the idea of that felt ridiculous. But there were moments, like now, when you almost believed her.
Wheezieâs voice echoes from the living room the second you step through the door. âYouâre late!â
âIâm literally on time,â you call back, closing the door behind you. The smell of freshly baked something wafts through the air, probably cookies Wheezie convinced Rose to make under the guise of a family bonding activity.
âTechnically, Rafeâs late,â Sarah says, popping her head around the corner, already grinning. âYouâre just cutting it close. Come on, Wheezieâs already plotting your downfall.â
You laugh and follow her into the living room, where the familiar chaos is already brewing. Wheezieâs sprawled across the couch, a pile of board game pieces spread out in front of her, while Ward sits in his chair, sipping a scotch like itâs all beneath him but still keeping a hawkâs eye on the rules. Rose flits between the kitchen and the table, not-so-casually reminding everyone to keep the snacks on coasters.
And then thereâs Rafe.
Heâs leaning back in one of the armchairs, his legs stretched out like he owns the placeâwhich, technically, he does. A half-smirk tugs at his lips as he spins a stray game token between his fingers. He barely glances at you when you walk in, but you catch the faintest flicker of recognition.
Itâs been years, but Rafe is still Rafe: cocky, restless, and way too pretty for his own good. Heâs toned down some of the more obvious brattiness since the early days, but the edge is still there, sharp enough to cut if youâre not careful.
And, as always, you do your best to steer clear.
The quiet hum of the boutique fades behind you as you pull the glass door shut, twisting the key to lock it. The click echoes in the empty street, a sharp sound against the stillness of downtown this late at night. The once-bustling sidewalks are deserted now, the streetlights casting uneven pools of orange on the pavement. Most of the shops had closed hours ago, their dark windows reflecting the faint shimmer of the moon.
You adjust the strap of your bag over your shoulder and glance at your phone. 11:43 p.m. Later than youâd intended. It wasnât your shift to close, but your coworker had begged you to cover for her last minute, and you couldnât say no. Itâs fine, you tell yourself. Youâve done this before. Downtown isnât that bad, and your car is parked just a block away. Still, thereâs something unnerving about the silence, the way the shadows stretch a little too far when youâre alone.
Reaching your carâa trusty but aging sedan that you inherited from your dadâyou fumble with the keys before sliding into the driverâs seat. The interior smells faintly of the vanilla air freshener you keep on the rearview mirror, a comforting contrast to the chilly night air outside. You toss your bag onto the passenger seat, then grip the steering wheel as you turn the key in the ignition.
Nothing.
You pause, frowning. Thatâs⊠odd. Your carâs old, sure, but itâs never been completely unresponsive. You twist the key again, harder this time, willing it to come to life.
Still nothing.
A low groan escapes your throat as you lean back against the seat. This canât be happening. Not tonight. Not here.
You pull out your phone, half-tempted to call Sarah or even your dad, but you hesitate. Sarahâs probably asleep by now, and your dadâs a good thirty minutes awayânot to mention, heâd definitely give you a lecture about not keeping up with the carâs maintenance. Sighing, you pop the hood and step out into the cool night air, shivering slightly as a gust of wind cuts through your jacket.
The street around you is unnervingly quiet. A stray cat darts across the road, its shadow flickering under the streetlights. You glance around, trying to shake the uneasy feeling creeping up your spine. Itâs just your imagination, you tell yourself. No oneâs here.
With a deep breath, you lift the hood and stare down at the engine like it might magically fix itself. You know a grand total of nothing about cars, but you wiggle a few cables anyway, hoping for a miracle. When you try the ignition again, the result is the sameâsilence, save for the faint hum of a streetlamp overhead.
Panic starts to creep in now, slow and steady. Your phoneâs battery is hovering at 10%, and downtownânormally picturesque and charming by dayâfeels like a completely different place at night. The empty windows of the closed shops look less quaint and more sinister, their dark interiors like gaping mouths.
You lean back against the car, tapping your fingers against the metal as you weigh your options. Call someone? Walk to the gas station a few blocks down? Stay here and wait it out? None of them sound appealing, especially with the growing sensation that youâre being watched. You tell yourself itâs just nerves, but your skin prickles anyway, and you canât help but glance over your shoulder every few seconds.
âGreat,â you mutter under your breath. âThis is how horror movies start.â
You huff out a shaky breath and decide to at least look under the hood. Not that you know what youâre doing, but itâs better than standing here like a sitting duck. Popping the latch, you step out into the cool night air again, every sound amplified in the unsettling quiet. Your shoes scrape against the pavement as you walk to the front of the car, lifting the hood and leaning over the engine.
The faint metallic scent of oil hits your nose as you peer into the mess of cables and parts. It all looks like a foreign language to you, but you fiddle with a few wires anyway, hoping for some kind of miracle.
Thatâs when you hear itâfootsteps.
At first, you think maybe itâs nothing, just your imagination running wild, but then you hear them again, deliberate and getting closer. Your stomach clenches, and you straighten up, instinctively glancing over your shoulder.
Two figures are walking toward you from the opposite side of the street, their strides slow and unhurried. The dim streetlights reveal faces you vaguely recognizeâKooks, no doubt, probably from the same parties Sarah used to drag you to back in high school. Their names escape you, but the looks on their faces donâtâgrins too wide, eyes too sharp, the kind of predatory energy that sets every nerve in your body on edge.
âCar trouble?â the taller one calls out, his voice carrying an edge of amusement as they stop a few feet away.
You force a tight smile, trying to keep your voice steady. âYeah, Iâve got it handled. Thanks.â
The shorter one, stockier and wearing a backward baseball cap, steps closer, tilting his head like he doesnât believe you. âDoesnât look like it,â he says. His tone is casual, but the way his eyes flick over you makes your skin crawl.
âIâm fine,â you insist, taking a small step back toward the car. Your heart is pounding now, a sick thrum in your chest, but you keep your expression as neutral as possible.
âHey, weâre just trying to help,â the taller one says, holding up his hands like heâs harmless, but thereâs something almost mocking in his tone. âNo need to be rude.â
The stocky one smirks, moving to your other side, effectively boxing you in against the car. âYeah, weâre just being friendly.â
The air feels heavy, oppressive, and the space between you and them feels like itâs shrinking by the second. You can feel the tension in their postures, the way theyâre both leaning in slightly, testing how far they can push.
Your throat tightens as you glance around, desperate for someone, anyone to come walking down the street. But thereâs no oneâjust you and these two strangers who clearly donât care that youâre uncomfortable.
âLook,â you say, trying to sound firm but calm, âI appreciate it, but Iâm good. You donât need to stick around.â
The taller one laughs, a low, unpleasant sound that makes your stomach churn. âAw, come on. Youâre out here all alone. What kind of gentlemen would we be if we just left you like this?â
Your fingers tighten around the edge of the hood, your mind racing for a way out. You consider making a run for it, but theyâre too close now, their presence suffocating.
Just as the stockier one steps even closer, his grin widening, a voice cuts through the tension, sharp and commanding.
âWhatâs going on here?â
The relief is instant and overwhelming, like a lifeline being thrown to you in a raging sea. You turn toward the sound, and there he isâRafe Cameron, standing just a few feet away, his hands shoved casually into his pockets but his posture rigid, his eyes hard as they lock onto the two guys.
The taller one straightens up immediately, his smirk faltering. âRafe,â he says, a weak attempt at sounding friendly.
Rafe doesnât respond, his gaze shifting to you for the briefest moment before snapping back to them. âDidnât realize we were having a party,â he says, his voice calm but laced with something dangerous. âYou two invited?â
The stockier guy takes a step back, muttering something under his breath. âWe were just leaving,â he says quickly, his bravado crumbling under Rafeâs glare.
âYeah, you are,â Rafe says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The two exchange uneasy glances before slinking away, their footsteps echoing down the street until they disappear around the corner.
For a moment, all you can hear is the pounding of your heartbeat and the faint hum of Rafeâs truck idling in the distance.
âYou good?â Rafe asks, his voice softer now but still steady, grounding.
You nod, your throat dry as you manage to croak out, âYeah⊠I am now.â
Rafe watches the shadows where the two guys disappeared, his expression unreadable, his jaw tight. You half expect him to say something cutting, maybe some sarcastic remark about how you canât take care of yourself, but when he finally looks at you, thereâs no smugness. Only something... softer, almost hesitant.
âYouâre lucky I saw you,â he says, his voice low. âThat couldâve gone bad. Fast.â
You nod, your throat still tight from the tension of the moment. Heâs right. You donât even want to think about how that couldâve ended if he hadnât shown up. âThanks,â you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
Rafeâs brow furrows like heâs surprised you said it. He leans back slightly, glancing at the car hood still propped open. âWhatâs wrong with this thing?â
âWonât start,â you reply, gesturing vaguely at the engine. âNot that Iâd know what to look for.â
He huffs a quiet laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking up just slightly. âYeah, I wouldnât expect you to.â His tone lacks the usual edge, thoughâitâs not a dig, just a statement.
For a moment, the two of you just stand there in the quiet. The night air feels less suffocating now, the earlier tension replaced by a strange calm. Despite everything you knowâor think you knowâabout Rafe Cameron, thereâs something about his presence right now that makes you feel⊠safe. Itâs unsettling, in its own way.
âYou should be more careful,â Rafe says, breaking the silence. His gaze is steady, not mocking or judgmental, just serious. âDowntown this late? Alone? Thatâs asking for trouble.â
You bristle slightly, your instinct to defend yourself flaring up. âI didnât exactly plan for my car to break down.â
He raises an eyebrow, but instead of snapping back, he just nods. âFair.â
The quiet stretches between you again, but this time, itâs not uncomfortable. Rafe steps closer, peering under the hood with a practiced air, and youâre struck by how uncharacteristically gentle he seems. No biting remarks, no smug superiorityâjust calm focus.
He taps a cable lightly, muttering something under his breath, then steps back, closing the hood with a decisive thud. âBatteryâs probably dead,â he says, glancing at you. âYou need a jump.â
You nod, your nerves finally starting to settle. âI guess Iâll call someone.â
âDonât bother,â he says, already walking toward his truck. âIâve got cables.â
You blink, caught off guard by his matter-of-fact tone. Heâs not offeringâheâs telling you heâs going to help. And for some reason, you donât argue.
A few minutes later, Rafe has his truck pulled up nose-to-nose with your car, the cables stretched taut between them. He works in silence, his movements efficient, and you watch from the sidelines, unsure of what to do with yourself.
âYou should get in,â he says, nodding toward the driverâs seat.
You do as he says, sliding back into the familiar confines of your car. The moment feels oddly intimateâjust the two of you on this empty street, the hum of his truck filling the air.
âTry it now,â he calls out, stepping back.
You turn the key, but instead of the engine sputtering to life, it lets out a defeated whine and falls silent again. You try one more time, your chest tightening with frustration and dread, but itâs no use. The car isnât going anywhere tonight.
You let your forehead drop against the steering wheel with a groan. Of course. Just your luck.
Rafeâs voice cuts through the night air, low and steady. âItâs not gonna work. Batteryâs dead for real.â
You sit up, pressing your lips together as he leans against the open driverâs side door, his arms crossed. His expression is unreadable, somewhere between amusement and mild concern.
âGreat,â you mutter. âSo, what now? I call a tow truck and wait here till dawn?â
Rafe tilts his head, his gaze flicking over you briefly before landing on your car again. âOr,â he says, âI could just drive you home.â
The offer catches you off guard, and you hesitate, your immediate instinct to say no. Riding home with Rafe Cameron? Thatâs about as far outside your comfort zone as you can imagine.
But then you glance down at your nearly dead phone, the empty street around you, and the sheer impossibility of getting a tow out here tonight. What other choice do you have?
âSeriously?â you ask, your voice tinged with disbelief.
Rafe shrugs, the motion easy, like itâs no big deal. âYou got a better plan?â
You donât.
âFine,â you say finally, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat and climbing out of the car. The night air feels colder now, pressing against your skin as you walk toward his truck.
Rafe opens the passenger door for you without a word, and you slide in, the faint scent of leather and cologne filling the cab. Itâs clean but lived-inâpractical, not flashy, which surprises you.
He climbs in on the driverâs side, pulling the door shut and starting the engine with a smooth turn of the key. The sound is steady, reliable, and for a moment, you envy how effortlessly everything in his life seems to work.
The first few minutes of the drive are quiet, the only sound the low hum of the truck and the occasional creak of the suspension as it rolls over uneven pavement. You glance out the window, watching the darkened storefronts blur past, trying to ignore the strange tension sitting between you.
âYou gonna sit there and sulk the whole way?â Rafe asks, his voice breaking the silence.
âIâm not sulking,â you shoot back, turning to glare at him.
He smirks, his eyes still on the road. âSure youâre not.â
You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. âIâm just⊠processing the fact that my car officially hates me. And that I had to be rescued by you of all people.â
His smirk softens into something closer to a smile, and for once, it doesnât look mocking. âYeah, well, itâs your lucky night, I guess.â
You roll your eyes but donât respond, and the quiet settles over the truck again. Itâs not entirely uncomfortable this timeâjust strange, like youâre both trying to figure out how to navigate this unexpected moment.
After a while, Rafe glances over at you, his expression more serious now. âYou really shouldnât be out here alone like that,â he says quietly.
You shift in your seat, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. âI didnât exactly plan for my car to break down,â you mumble.
âStill,â he says, his grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel. âThings couldâve gone bad. You know that, right?â
You do. The memory of those guys, their leering smiles and the way they cornered you, is still fresh in your mind. A shiver runs through you, and you glance at Rafe, his profile sharp in the dim light from the dashboard.
âThanks,â you say, softer this time. âFor stepping in.â
His jaw tenses for a moment before he nods. âYeah. Donât mention it.â
The rest of the drive passes in a blur of streetlights and quiet conversation. When he finally pulls up outside your house, you feel an odd sense of disappointment, like the night is ending too soon.
Rafe cuts the engine and looks over at you, his expression unreadable again. âYou good?â
You nod, your fingers curling around the strap of your bag. âYeah. Thanks for the ride.â
He hesitates, his eyes searching yours for a moment, and you swear you see something uncharacteristically soft in his gaze. âAnytime,â he says, his voice low.
You climb out of the truck, turning back as you reach your front door. Rafe is still there, leaning slightly out of the window, watching you with an intensity that sends a strange flutter through your chest.
âNight, Rafe,â you call out, your voice steadier than you feel.
He nods once, his smirk returning, but thereâs a warmth to it now that wasnât there before. âNight.â
You watch as he drives off, the tail lights disappearing down the street, and you canât shake the feeling that tonight, something shifted. Something you didnât see coming.
The living room is alive with laughter and the sugary smell of freshly microwaved popcorn. Wheezie is sprawled across the couch, her legs tangled in a blanket as she debates the finer points of the movie youâve just paused, while Sarah snorts beside her, throwing a handful of popcorn in her sisterâs direction.
You sit cross-legged on the floor, sipping from your drink and soaking in the warmth of the moment. It feels good to let your guard down like thisâto laugh and tease and forget for a little while.
âOkay, but how does she not realize heâs the bad guy?â Wheezie demands, gesturing dramatically at the screen.
âBecause sheâs blinded by love,â Sarah says, grinning. âOr maybe sheâs just as dumb as you are.â
âExcuse me?â Wheezie gasps, clutching her chest in mock offense.
You laugh, shaking your head. âI donât know. I feel like if someone was being that obvious about being evil, Iâd notice.â
âWould you, though?â Sarah teases, raising an eyebrow.
âHey!â you protest, chucking a stray pillow at her.
The playful banter continues, the night stretching on in a haze of easy conversation and snack-fueled chaos. Youâre halfway through arguing over which movie to watch next when the sound of the front door opening pulls your attention.
You glance toward the entryway just as Rafe steps inside, his hair slightly mussed, his keys jingling in his hand. He pauses when he sees you all, his expression flickering from mild surprise to something unreadable.
âWhatâs this?â he asks, his voice carrying that familiar mix of curiosity and amusement. âA girlsâ night?â
âYeah,â Sarah says, throwing a popcorn kernel at him. âAnd youâre not invited.â
âTragic,â Rafe deadpans, stepping fully into the room. His eyes flick to you for a split second, and your stomach does an unexpected flip.
You tell yourself itâs nothing. Just residual nerves from the other night. Nothing to do with the way his presence seems to fill the space or the way his gaze lingers just long enough to make your cheeks heat.
He smirks, leaning against the doorframe. âDonât worry, Iâm not staying.â
âGood,â Sarah says. âBye.â
He ignores her, pushing off the frame and heading toward the kitchen instead.
âIâm getting more popcorn,â you announce quickly, needing a reason to escape the sudden heat prickling at your skin. You grab the empty bowl and dart toward the kitchen before anyone can respond.
The kitchen is cooler, quieter, and you exhale a sigh of relief as you cross to the counter. Youâre halfway through scooping kernels into a bowl when you hear the low hum of Rafeâs voice behind you.
âDidnât know you were here tonight.â
You jump slightly, glancing over your shoulder to find him leaning casually against the counter, his arms crossed and that infuriating smirk playing on his lips.
âYeah, well,â you say, turning back to the task at hand, âIâm kind of a regular around here.â
âIâve noticed,â he says, his tone light but edged with something that makes your stomach flutter.
You keep your focus on the popcorn, refusing to let him get to you. âDo you always sneak up on people like that?â
âOnly when theyâre interesting,â he shoots back smoothly.
You roll your eyes, but the flush creeping up your neck betrays you. âInteresting? Thatâs a stretch.â
Rafe chuckles, the sound low and warm. âI donât think so.â
His voice is closer now, and you glance up to find him standing beside you, his gaze fixed on your face. You freeze, your fingers tightening slightly around the bowl as you try to think of somethingâanythingâto say.
âRelax,â he says, his lips quirking up into a grin. âYou look like youâre about to run out of here.â
âIâm not,â you insist, though your voice comes out shakier than youâd like.
He leans in slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. âGood,â he murmurs. âBecause I was starting to think I might scare you.â
âYou donât scare me,â you say quickly, your voice a touch too defensive.
âHmm.â His smirk deepens, and he leans back, giving you just enough space to breathe again. âIf you say so.â
With that, he grabs a water bottle from the fridge and steps away, throwing one last glance over his shoulder as he heads toward the stairs.
âGoodnight, trouble,â he calls out, his tone teasing but soft enough to send a shiver down your spine.
You stand there for a moment, staring after him, your heart racing and your face burning.
By the time you return to the living room with the popcorn, Wheezie and Sarah are too busy laughing at some inside joke to notice how flustered you are. You settle back into your spot on the floor, your mind still replaying the way Rafeâs voice sounded when he called you trouble.
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