#bad banks

[christianfriedelfan]

Ladies and Gentlemen, Albrecht Schuch ♡

[le-brol]

Noah Saavedra as Ben Kaufmann in Bad Banks S2

[reginasbread]

Désirée Nosbusch in Bad Banks

[andiamofratello]

[shamanictinaleonardhealing]

[rafesweetie]

in which you’re forced into having a talk with your ex-boyfriend, rafe cameron, on the boat ride to morocco.

being a pogue and rafe cameron’s ex was not easy. although you dated shortly before he killed peterkin, and you were sure he barely even remembered your favourite colour, seeing him blatanly disrespect you and his friends, and go down a path you tried so hard to prevent him from, was hard to watch. but now he’s picked himself up since ward died. you thought you had another chance to at least be on good terms. sending flowers and a card to tanneyhill when ward died, smiling at him when you’d see him around. it didn’t work, he still hated you and your friends.

fortunately, he redeemed himself ever so slightly by volunteering to take the pogues to morocco. rafe had to find chandler groff, you guys wanted the blue crown. it was perfect.

until jj punched him, that is. he knocked him out cold. with a scolding “jj!” coming from majority of the pogues, including you, jj carries him down into the downstairs washroom and ties his wrists to a pole. they don’t trust him, which is fair. you don’t either — you shouldn’t, anyway.

rafe was down there quietly for a mere half hour until he woke up with a groan from his head hitting the ground earlier, followed up with yelling once he realizes he was stuck down there.

all touching your noses and saying ‘not it’ the minute pope suggests someone going down there to check on him, you’re the unlucky one who said it last. shutting up your protests, john b gently coaxes you downstairs, saying things like, “you used to mack on him”, “this is good, you know him”, “he won’t hurt you,” john b leaves you downstairs once you make it to the door of the bathroom. knocking gently, you timidly ask, “can i come in?”

there’s no answer. you can picture him. wrists tied, brows furrowed, eyes closed tightly as his head leans against the wall and towards the ceiling. his gorgeous stressed face. you slowly open the door, peeking your head in. “hi,” you say gently, timid around the scary and aggressive man you have the curse of calling your ex.

“…hey,” rafe says, voice rough as he shuts his eyes tight.

unsure what to say, you awkwardly stand there and stare down at him. “um, i brought asprin,”

“right, right, like i can fuckin’ swallow it. what, you gonna throw it in my mouth like a.. seal or something?” sassy, his upper lip lifts a bit as he thinks about it and isn’t very fond of the idea.

a second of silence as you figure out what to say. “…um, ill just set it down here,” you say, putting the container down beside him. “sorry about your head.”

“yeah, uh, your little boyfriend can’t control his fists, huh?”

“…not my boyfriend,” you correct softly, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to tell him that. “but no one really.. trusts you, rafe, so you kind of brought this on yourself—“

he quickly interrupts you. “bullshit. you know why that’s bullshit? because i was helping. who got you this boat, huh? me. i did. rafe. i’m the reason that you guys aren’t swimming, or some shit, to north africa. i’m being helpful and understanding, and this is what i get. you think that’s fair?” when you’re stood there in silence at his sudden raised voice, he repeats, “you think that’s fucking fair, y/n!?” he kicks a can in anger.

it’s like you’re his girlfriend again as you sit down next to him instantly instead of running. you get deja vu to the time three years ago when he was high on coke and got kicked out of the house. everyone ignored him except for you. “..um, okay, i’m gonna give you some asprin,” you say softly. “help your head. open,” you tell him, grabbing a pill as he gives you a look but opens his mouth. you pop it in his mouth and he dry swallows. “there.”

you two share a look. you don’t think it’s a bad look by any means. he looks frustrated still, but there’s an underlying gentleness in his eyes, as if he registers you’re still the same girl you were when you two were together. “…and, um, for the record, i don’t think it’s fair that you’re down here. you helped us, thats.. nice.”

the word ‘us’ when referring to you and the pogues makes him feel weird. “i don’t get why you hang out with them,” he mutters as he looks at the ground. “tried so fucking hard to keep you away from them when we were.. together.”

“i know,” you whisper, your gaze dropping as well, to his tied wrists. you feel awful. “trust me, your warnings still play in my head when i’m with them sometimes,”

“you remind me of sarah.” he says. you’re not sure what that means.

“you hate sarah,”

“nah, nah— i don’t hate her. hate who she’s turned into,” he adjusts himself. “she makes me sad. i’m sad for her, alright? she had so much potential.“ he shrugs. “but there’s no saving her. she’s in too deep,” he looks back up at you again. “i think there’s saving you, though,”

“…this is weird, rafe,”

“how?” he asks.

“because in the years we’ve been broken up, you’ve never talked to me about this. feels like it’s a… trick or something,”

“it’s not a trick,” he assures, voice still rough. “look, i’m out half a mill, i’m tied up in a bathroom, i’m probably gonna.. die or something. i got nothing to lose, may as well tell you my concern,”

“um, i appreciate it,” you say gently, unsure how to respond. “and i’m gonna go back upstairs.”

“hey— no, woah, woah, woah,” he stops you quickly. “stay. okay?”

“i should go up and help with dinner, though—“

“no, stay. i— i want you to stay, okay? i don’t wanna be down here alone, and i want you away from the pogues,”

he doesn’t wanna be alone. you feel bad for him all over again, nodding gently as you sit back down beside him. you always were so good for rafe.

you’re not sure how long you’ll be down here with him. maybe until it’s late at night and he’s asleep. so gently, after about five minutes of silence, to ease some of the tension and pass the time, you murmur a, “truth or dare?”

rafe just smiles.

[rafey-baby]

What would sensitive!reader do without older!rafe protecting her from the invisible monsters in their home?

18+ mdni!

c/w: mostly fluff, her being scared & rafe comforting her while also being a menace, teeny tiny bit of angst regarding their age-gap, use of daddy (once)

wc: 1.7k

unfortunately won't be watching a single scary movie this halloween cause she's literally me but happy kinktober & spooky season xx

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She’s not exactly sure why she agreed to watch the new horror film Rafe’s friends wanted to see at a Halloween themed gathering he’d dragged her into. She wasn’t even the biggest fan of his friends, which is why she didn’t want to go in the first place.

However, when he’d mumbled a honeyed “It’s no fun without you and don’t wanna leave my girl alone on Halloween” into her hair, she’d reluctantly agreed; not one to refuse him of anything when he looked at her with that specific softened blue coloring his eyes.

And there was also the prospect of making him happy that finally made her melt into his wishes.

And she wanted to like his friends, she really did. But it wasn’t exactly easy when they kept bragging about their accomplishments and how much money they had every opportunity they found in such an arrogant tone, it made her roll her eyes when they weren’t looking.  

Luckily, she could at least converse with their partners who were always fun company to sip wine with and giggle about anything and everything. And along with the warmth of Rafe’s gaze flickering over to her every once in a while, as he talked with his friends and coworkers, she was actually beginning to enjoy herself. 

Up until the point when someone suggested they watch a movie. 

“You sure you wanna watch this? S’okay if you wanna go home, could come up with something else to keep us entertained…” Rafe had murmured into her ear with his arms around her on the couch the whole group had settled down on.

He knew how paranoid she could get; how easily she’d turn into a scaredy cat who once couldn’t sleep alone for a month after sitting through an entire scary movie in the cinema.  

And she truly doesn’t know why she didn’t just tell him she wanted to leave when the film started playing on the big screen of Topper’s television. She was going to, but when her eyes flitted over to him bringing a glass of whiskey to his lips in a carefree manner; she didn’t have the heart to ruin his fun because he seemed to be enjoying himself. After all, it wasn’t often he let himself relax due to his hectic work schedule packed with tedious meetings and whatnot.  

And on top of that, she’s already self-conscious over the age-gap between her and Rafe; sometimes gets a headache over the notion of him meeting someone more mature one dreadful day and deciding he doesn’t want to play house with her any longer.

After all, his friends were all getting engaged left and right, while she still holds the title of being his girlfriend. And even if she isn’t sure she’d be ready for marriage quite yet, she’s still slightly upset that he’s never even so much as mentioned the matter. 

And she's not sure if it's because she's younger than him and he assumes she doesn't want a ring on her finger too soon or if he simply just doesn't want to make things too definitive with her.

Nonetheless, it's something she's been thoroughly overthinking and mulling over recently, even if she knows it doesn't benefit her in any shape or form. Apparently, her mind just likes to always have some topic to ruminate over and obsessively worry about, or else it'll have too much free time.

Therefore, she can admit that she didn’t want to appear as a big baby who couldn’t stomach anything even remotely scary (she really couldn’t). And was it such a crime to not want to make a scene in front of all his friends? 

That’s why she ends up meekly nodding her head and assuring him she was fine — which he didn’t entirely believe — but smiled nonetheless at the fact that she was willing to get out of her comfort zone for his sake, before pulling her closer to his side.  

However, when the white letters of the end credits finally rolled after a few gruesome and eerie hours later, she was anything but fine. 

Her weakened frame is trembling and she’s entirely too jumpy even after they’ve said their goodbyes and stepped past the threshold into the safe haven of their home.  

“Told you we should’ve just left,” he tuts at her when she flinches at the October wind rustling the autumnal foliage outside the window.  

“Rafe, what was that?” She squeaks out when she hears another sound coming from outside — presumably their neighbor — however, there’s always the possibility of it being a serial killer simply waiting for the right moment to pounce.  

“What was what?” He huffs out a chuckle in amusement, causing her to pout.  

“This isn’t funny. I’m scared,” she whines, heart beating faster than ever along with her breathing unsteady.

“I know you are. Shit, forgot why I don’t let you watch scary movies,” he shakes his head, padding over to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water; her feet immediately running after him.  

“Hey, hey. I’m right here, yeah?” He laughs tenderly when she practically glues herself to his big and comforting arm with how tightly she’s hugging it against her chest.  

“Promise you’re not gonna leave me alone?” She blinks up at him with her pupils dilated, nervous. 

“It’s past midnight. Of course, I’m not leaving, I’m exhausted. Let’s get ready for bed, yeah?” He suggests calmly, managing to placate her some with his appeasing presence. Although the spine-chilling scenes still play behind her eyelids with every blink. 

She follows him to the bathroom and he tries not to laugh when she insists on staying there even while he’s peeing.  

“Want me to check under the bed for monsters?” His sickly-sweet tone is a stark contrast to the annoying smirk plastered on his face when they pad over to their bedroom after brushing their teeth. 

“Ray…I’m being serious,” she scowls. 

“So am I?” He feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows. 

Before she has the chance to complain about him being mean, he’s already crouching down on the floor and poking his head under the bed into the darkness he’s braved himself to submerge into. And she’s far too curious not to peer down as well, however, she can’t really see a thing from behind his broad shoulders.  

Suddenly, he lets out a loud gasp — making her jump back and nearly trip on her feet — before his breathy giggle follows soon after. 

“That’s not funny,” she grumbles as exasperation drags her lips downwards. 

“I’m sorry, baby. You jus’ make it so easy,” he approaches her with an apologetic expression that doesn’t come off as all that empathetic when he’s fighting off an amused grin the entire time.  

“C’mere, yeah?” He coaxes her before tugging her into his strong arms; not letting go even when she tries to pull away since she’s still mad at him.  

“This one really got to you, huh?” He murmurs into her hair before beginning to soothingly rock back and forth when she finally halts her pursuits of escape.  

A faint hum is the only response she grants him.  

“Don’t remember you being this scared since we went to that haunted house with your friends last year, remember?” His warm chest rumbles in a pacifying manner in tandem with his words.  

“How could I forget,” she huffs out.  

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t wanna watch it? You know I wouldn’t have minded leaving,” he speaks softly.  

“I don’t know…just didn’t wanna seem like a baby in front of your friends,” she sniffles.  

“Since when do you care what they think? You hate them,” he argues with a lopsided smile when he releases his hold on her in order to unzip his jeans and change into something more comfortable for the night.  

“Hate is a strong word,” she defends herself as she pulls one of Rafe’s old t-shirts over her head and tries to focus on his familiar scent still lingering on the worn-out fabric instead of the imaginary monsters lurking behind the windows.  

“Is it?” He graces her with a lighthearted narrow of his eyes.  

“Fine. I don’t like them but they’re your friends, which means that I want them to like me,” she mumbles out.  

“Don’t really give a shit if they like you or not, which they obviously do. Think a little too much since you can’t help but be the sweetest angel even to the people you hate,” he grumbles out as he walks over to close the bedroom door.  

“And honestly, would much rather just stay with you than those pretentious idiots. Next time you wanna go home, just tell me. Don’t want you lying to me, okay?” He says with something sincere sparkling in the lagoons of his eyes.  

“Okay,” she promises when suddenly, he switches the lights off with a click, causing her muscles to tense.  

“Ray, why would you do that?” She sounds alarmed; inhales and exhales growing labored because the bedroom is now pitch black and there could be anything hiding in the murky corners of the room since she can’t even see herself.  

“Shh, calm down. I’ll protect you, yeah?” He croons, before he’s guiding her under the covers with a big hand on the small of her back; following shortly behind her and tugging her flush against his steady chest. 

“You’re safe with me. Daddy’s not gonna let anything happen to you, alright?” His saccharine murmurs reach her racing mind and offer it momentary rest on the soft petals of his tranquil voice.  

She hums against the skin of his neck as her eyes begin to slowly adjust to the darkness surrounding them; the dingy shadows crawling along the walls appearing less and less threatening by the second when she’s in the warmth of his protective embrace.  

“Want your stuffie?” He asks, knowing her all too well.  

“Mhm,” she nods against him before he’s reaching a hand behind the pillows because somehow her stuffed animal always manages to end up in the most peculiar of places. At this point though, he already knows where to look since he’s usually the one who has to locate it for her.

Nowadays, she doesn’t need it too often since she has Rafe volunteering to be her own personal teddy bear, but whenever he’s working past midnight, she likes to hold onto something that brings her comfort because she isn’t particularly fond of the idea of sleeping alone. 

He soon offers her the plushy lamb and she gives him a grateful smooch against his cheek along with a muffled ‘I love you’.  

And that night, he lulls her into dreamland with a warm palm resting on her tummy and his mellow breathing placating her distraught mind.

[ne0n-rust]

POOL PARTY :]

[loverafey]

being his assistant ! ceo!rafe x assistant!reader

ꕀ warnings - smut, rafe is a bit of a perv, cockwarming, cunnilingus, he spoils you!

it was about time that ceo!rafe looked out for an assistant. the workload had been, much to his dismay, infuriating no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he could handle it. cameron development’s success was soaring, and so was the money. he would’ve been happier if he wasn’t already so stressed.

and a very deep selfish part of him that he refused to acknowledge also wanted someone by his side because he was just so damn lonely. working late nights with these paperworks — all this rich businessman stuff — it was sickening when doing all alone. by no one’s side.

your profile was promising, refreshing even. he had seen you around a couple of times, even striked a conversation or two. so he gave in, and just like that, you became his assistant.

ceo!rafe was quick to get infatuated with assistant!reader. seeing you working so diligently around in the office hours was something that had become the highlight of his day quite quickly. which is why he’d be by your side most of the time, making up excuses about just checking on you and seeing if you were handling the work correctly.

ceo!rafe had started buying clothes for assistant!reader soon enough. spoiling you in general, but in his words, it was more so of a way to make your office clothes more ‘stylish’. gifting you expensive suits and bags, even a better laptop — which you were secretly glad for because your current one had gotten too slow — you couldn’t help but feel both grateful and guilty at the same time, despite his reassurances.

ceo!rafe who’d take assistant!reader out on date nights. a way for you both to distress, and what was better than spending the evening in one of his favourite restaurants, the dining exquisite. yes, the dress you’d be wearing was bought by him too. at this point, you were more so of his girlfriend than his assistant, and perhaps that was his plan all along. though it was definitely hard to hide his intentions, and even harder to not ogle at you while you looked so fucking good.

ceo!rafe who’d make assistant!reader sit on his cock while he’d be working.

“they’re just assistant duties, baby.” rafe whispered in your ear, a groan leaving his lips at the way you tightly clenched around his cock, his hand smacking your thigh gently, non-verbally ordering you to stop squirming.

“here, let me show you how to fill these sheets out.” he grabbed some paperwork and a pen, beginning to ramble stuff on. that he obviously knew you couldn’t properly pay attention to, not when he was stretching you out so nicely.

ceo!rafe would eat assistant!reader out after a tedious day. you deserved to relieve stress too, so he’d eagerly nestle his face in between your legs while you’d be propped up on his desk, desperately gripping onto the edges while letting out soft little moans, feeling his tongue lap against your soaking cunt.

ceo!rafe who secretly enjoyed hearing the rumours circulating around him and his assistant. it was just natural for anyone to presume you both were not so ‘professional’ given how you were hanging out together even after the working hours, though he could care less what these people had to see. seeing you content and adorned in his gifts was more than enough.

[futuremrscameron]

fawwwk they’re gonna get me in trouble

[hellisagemini]

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well (...)

[le-brol]

Noah Saavedra as Ben Kaufmann in Bad Banks S2

[andiamofratello]

[coryndoll]

hi can you make a one shot about meankook!reader bullying sofia for being a pogue just because sofia is dating rafe? and rafe confronting meankook!reader but all the reader did was to cry because she's still not over rafe (rafe and the reader had a past 😞💨)

french 75

rafe cameron x meankook!reader

warning: ruthie i fear .

authors note: hi so idk if u wanted them to get together, AND I LOVE SOFIAS CHARACTER but we’re using the “theyre not even really official and sofias so nice that she’ll probably just let this pass if rafe was still in love with his ex” excuse 😭

you've been feeling out of place lately. it's not like you haven't tried to move on, but it’s hard when the people you used to spend every day with are still around, circling like ghosts of a life you’re no longer part of.

you and rafe broke things off six months ago, and since then, everything’s been awkward. you still hang out with sarah, mostly because she doesn’t make things weird. topper and kelce are around too, and sometimes topper’s new girlfriend ruthie tags along. but there’s this unspoken tension whenever you’re all together—like they’re waiting for you to crack, or maybe you’re waiting for it.

the hardest part isn’t the breakup itself. you’re used to that; breakups are part of life. no, the hardest part is seeing rafe with sofia.

you heard about her weeks ago, whispers on the island, but it wasn’t real until you saw them together. inseparable. she’s always there now, tucked into his side like she belongs there, like that used to be you. and no matter how much time passes, seeing your ex with someone else just . . . stings. like you’re stuck, still standing where you were when things ended, while rafe's already miles ahead, moving on with his life.

you haven’t even thought about getting with anyone new lately, and apparently, that’s concerning to ruthie. you’re sitting at the country club bar, arms stretched out across the table and your forehead pressed to the surface.

it’s a slow afternoon, topper and kelce are leaning against the railing a few feet away, deep in conversation. ruthie’s beside you, eyeing you with this weird mix of disgust and amusement, like you're some kind of charity case she’s fascinated by.

“seriously? you haven't hooked up with anyone in the last month?” ruthie asks, her voice dripping with disbelief.

you can feel her staring at you, judging you, and you groan, burying your face in the table as if that might make her stop.

“two months?” she presses, raising an eyebrow.

“four,” you murmur, still not lifting your head. you can practically feel her eyes widen.

“god,” ruthie mutters under her breath, like you’re some tragic, pitiful thing. she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms and making a face like she’s disgusted by the mere thought of it. you finally sit up, tired eyes meeting hers with a sharp look.

“okay, can you just drop it, ruthie?” you snap, though it comes out louder than you wanted it to. you rub your temples, feeling the headache creeping in. “i’m getting a fucking migraine talking to you.”

ruthie blinks, like she’s taken aback, before her eyes narrow and her lips press into a thin line. she throws her hands up, palms facing you in a mock surrender. “whatever,” she mutters, scoffing as she stands. she’s muttering something under her breath before she struts off toward topper and kelce, leaving you alone at the table.

eventually, topper catches your eye from where he’s standing, mid-conversation. he doesn’t say anything, just watches you for a moment before leaving them behind and walking over to where you’re still slumped in your chair.

there’s a quiet, unspoken kindness in the way he looks at you, a soft spot he’s always had for you, even if he doesn’t always say it outright.

“did ruthie piss you off?” he asks, voice low and casual as he leans on the back of your chair.

you make a face. “she’s just annoying,” you mutter, sitting up straighter in your chair. “i don’t get why everyone still cares. it’s been weeks since rafe and sofia started whatever they’re doing, and months since we broke up. i just want people to shut up about it already.”

topper presses his lips together, looking down but still watching you with a sideways glance, that familiar expression that says ‘are you done yet?’ he doesn’t even have to say anything.

you stare at him for a moment, realizing just how much of a buzzkill you’ve been today. not that ruthie doesn’t deserve it—she’s always been the annoying one, poking at you like you’re some project she’s trying to fix. but still . . . maybe you went too far. your eyes flick over to her standing with kelce, hands on her hips, still talking animatedly like nothing happened.

apologize? you think for a second but dismiss it. no, she’ll live.

“you want a drink?” topper asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. “on me.”

you look up at him and just nod, too drained to argue or offer any witty remarks. topper gives a small nod back, tilting his head toward the bar in a way that tells you to ‘come on.’

you push yourself up from the table, rubbing the back of your head. “thanks,” you murmur as you follow him to the bar.

you approach the counter, scanning the drink options in your head even though you know what you want already. “a french 75?” you say almost immediately.

topper’s already placing cash on the counter, giving you a nod before turning and heading back to the others. you watch him walk off, then turn back to face the bartender, but the guy is sliding topper’s money over to himself and calling over his shoulder for someone else to handle your drink, like he’s too busy.

you wait, your eyes drifting across the room, taking in the familiar faces. your friends are just off to the side, still talking, but when you face forward again, you see someone else working on your drink. a girl, back turned to you, quickly mixing things with slightly impressive speed. you tap your fingers against the counter, trying to fill the silence while you wait.

it doesn’t take long. quicker than you expected, the girl is already turning around, glass in hand. “french 75,” she says, placing the drink on the counter—until her eyes meet yours, and her expression freezes. the glass hovers in her hand for a moment as if she’s debating whether to set it down or not. her face pales, and you realize why.

sofia.

your jaw clenches instinctively, and you just stare at her. her presence alone irritates you, but seeing her behind the bar, handing you a drink, like this is normal, like everything is fine? it’s suffocating.

kelce is the first to realize what’s going on. “oh, shit,” you hear him mutter, raising a fist to his mouth in a mix of surprise and awkward amusement. he taps topper on the shoulder to get his attention, and soon enough, topper and ruthie are glancing over, realizing who he’s staring at. they shuffle over to a nearby table, clearly coming closer to stand by you, or maybe just to watch the drama unfold.

you don’t break eye contact with sofia, letting your gaze slowly trail down, taking her in from head to toe with a grimace, like you’re trying to figure out how someone like her even fits into your world, let alone into rafe’s life. sofia purses her lips, setting the glass on the counter with a sharp clink, avoiding your gaze now.

without a word, you grab the glass and turn on your heel, walking over to where your friends have settled at the new table. they’re all looking at you, like they’ve already seen everything that happened and are just waiting for your reaction.

you sit down with a huff, glancing at them with a raised eyebrow. “why are we sitting here?” you ask, your voice low and laced with annoyance. it’s too close—too close to the front counter, too close to her.

ruthie just shrugs, but she’s looking past you at the bar with a little too much interest. you roll your eyes and take a sip of your drink, trying to ignore the knot twisting tighter in your chest.

ruthie leans forward, her arms crossed on the table, a glint of mischief in her eyes as she glances between you and the bar. you can almost see the gears turning in her head. “so, what’s it like,” she asks, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “watching your ex play house with someone so . . . beneath him?”

you sit there, caught off guard for a moment. topper’s eyes widen slightly, and he shoots ruthie a look, clearly knowing she’s trying to stir the pot.

the truth is, you hate how rafe looks with sofia. it’s not like you can admit that out loud, but now, with ruthie pushing you, it feels like the perfect opportunity to let it out. you don’t even know what comes over you.

you take a deep breath, your leg bouncing under the table, a small smile creeping onto your lips as you respond, “i’ll just say, she can play house all she wants. it’s not like she’s getting a permanent role.”

you notice topper staring at you, disbelief etched across his face. you say it so low and calculated, causing ruthie and kelce to snicker.

“he’s just keeping her around because she’s easy, she’s a pogue,” you continue. “no effort, no expectations. it’s not like she has anything to offer except, what, pouring drinks? fuckin’ classy.”

ruthie jumps in, her voice light but laced with sarcasm, “i almost feel bad for her. almost. but she’ll figure it out when he’s done playing.” she leans back, a mocking expression plastered on her face. “imagine being the girl who bartends at her boyfriend’s parties . . . awkward.”

it’s toxic, sure, but right now, it’s all you’ve got. the laughter and banter dull the sting of seeing rafe with sofia, if only for a little while. you lean back in your chair, your smirk lingering as you watch the laughter between your friends, even if a part of you knows it won’t last.

“hey,” you hear someone murmur behind you, and your stomach drops.

just from that, you know that it’s unmistakably rafe’s voice, smooth and casual, but with an edge that sends a shiver down your spine. you whip around in your chair, dread pooling in your gut as you see him standing there, a bag in his hands—most likely sofia’s. he must’ve walked up from downstairs, just in time to catch the tail end of your conversation.

rafe’s gaze is locked onto sofia. the way they look at each other that makes your blood boil. you literally feel like flipping tables right now.

behind you, ruthie’s laughter cuts through the tension, but you can hear topper nudging her to shut up.

you face forward and close your mouth, focusing on tracing the bottom of your glass, pretending to be absorbed in your drink as the conversation flows at the table, about other things.

a few moments pass, and you hear footsteps approaching from behind. curiosity pulls you in, and you tilt your head just enough to catch a glimpse of rafe as he approaches.

his hand barely brushes your shoulder. you instinctively glance over your shoulder, ready to tell him to back off, but the look in his eyes is different. “can i talk to you?” he asks.

anxiety twists in your stomach, but you mask it, meeting his gaze. you give ruthie a quick look—a silent plea for backup or perhaps a warning—but you know she’s not going to say anything. she’s too wrapped up in her own amusement, still chuckling at the earlier jab about sofia.

before you join him, you tilt your head back and quickly down the rest of your drink, earning a snort from kelce. you stand up, heart pounding in your chest as you face rafe. he stands tall. behind him, you catch sofia’s eyes again. she’s watching you, and you can see the faint flicker of concern in her expression. it’s irritating and satisfying all at once.

“let’s go,” rafe says, his voice low, and he turns to walk away, prompting you to follow him. you take a deep breath, stealing one last glance at your friends, who exchange looks before you slip out of their sight.

he leads you downstairs and out of the building. the chatter and laughter from the downstairs restaurant fade behind you. you can feel rafe’s anger practically radiating off him.

he spins around to face you, eyes blazing. “what the hell was that all about?” his voice is low but intense. “is this the new game you’re playing? you think talking shit about sofia is going to make you look good?”

the offense courses through you like a wave, your jaw clenching at his accusation. “you’re kidding, right?” you shoot back. “you’re the one who moved on like it was nothing. do you really expect me to sit here and pretend it’s fine? to just be okay with you and your new girlfriend flaunting it in everyone’s face?”

rafe’s eyes narrow, his frustration deepening. “look, i get that you’re feeling some type of way, but doing that with our friends of all people isn’t going to change anything between us.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “i don’t know what you want me to say. you want me to be happy for you? it’s not that simple,” you retort. “it’s a joke that you think i’m going to sit here and pretend i’m okay with everything while you’re acting like you didn’t just move on in record time.”

his expression hardens, and you can see the muscles in his jaw flex as he fights for control. “you don’t get it, do you?” he says, stepping closer. “this isn’t about you. it’s about sofia and me. if you really cared, you’d respect that.”

“respect?” you scoff. “you want respect after everything? you think just because you’re with her, everything should be okay? you’re so self-absorbed that you can’t even see how messed up this is for me.”

rafe shakes his head, “and you think this is easy for me? watching you act like a child while i’m trying to move on? it’s not just about you anymore, y/n. you’re not the only one who’s hurting.”

his words hit harder than you expect, a punch to the gut that leaves you momentarily speechless. you take a breath, trying to compose yourself. “then why don’t you act like it? you’re so busy playing house with sofia that you don’t even care how it looks from my side. it’s like you don’t give a damn about what we had.”

“what we had is over!” rafe snaps, and you take a small step back. “you need to let it go. it’s not my fault you can’t handle seeing me with someone else. you’re the one making this harder than it needs to be.”

he takes a step back this time, and you can see the hurt lingering just below the surface. his voice cuts through the air, “you have no business being in this. sofia isn’t even my girlfriend, and it’s been six months. you need to let go of whatever this is.”

“so what? just because you say it’s over, i’m supposed to be fine? you moved on so fast, rafe. how can you just act like it’s nothing?”

he rolls his eyes. “you’re the one making this a problem. i saw you with that guy a few months back. so don’t act like you’re sitting here heartbroken. you’re clearly over me!”

the breath catches in your throat, anger twisting into something deeper, more painful. “that was the first and last time i was even with anyone since we broke up, rafe! i didn’t want to be with him! i was just trying to get over you, to stop feeling like this.” your voice shakes as you speak, you’re crumbling in front of him.

“then why are you acting like this?” he demands.

you can’t hold it in any longer. “because i’m not over you!” you scream, the words ripping from your throat with a desperation that leaves you breathless. rafe blinks at you in stunned silence, his expression shifting from anger to something softer, almost vulnerable.

your walls finally come crashing down, and you feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. it’s humiliating to admit it all. “i’ve been a bitch because i’m not . . . over you, rafe. and i don’t think i ever have been.” the admission slips from your lips, and you can see the surprise flicker across his face. “and everyone keeps talking to me, asking about you, and then all the stuff about sofia when people started seeing you guys around the island . . . it’s just exhausting! i’m tired, rafe. i’m so tired.”

a tear spills down your cheek. you wipe it away angrily, frustrated with yourself for showing weakness. rafe steps closer, his expression softening, but the distance between you still feels vast.

“you think i don’t care?” he says quietly, the anger draining from his tone. the silence hangs heavy between you, your breaths coming in shaky intervals as he processes your words. “y/n,” he starts, but you can’t hold back any longer.

“it’s just . . . it’s so hard to watch you move on with someone who feels like a shadow of what we had,” you mumble. “every time i see you with sofia, it’s like a knife twisting in my chest. and i know i shouldn’t feel this way. i know i should be happy for you, and i am, but i don’t know how to move on when you’re still so present in my life, even when you’re not really in it. and it makes me feel pathetic. i thought i was strong enough to handle it, but every time i think i’m over you, it just hits me all over again. like i’m right back at square one, and i don’t know how to let go.”

your voice cracks on that last word, and suddenly the dam breaks. you don’t mean to, but everything comes rushing out. “i’m fucking mad at you. i’m mad at myself. i hate that i still care about you. i hate that i can’t even walk into a room without wondering if you’ll be there, or hear your name without feeling like someone just punched me in the gut.” the tears start streaming down your face, and you wipe at them furiously, embarrassed to be falling apart in front of him like this.

rafe just stands there, watching you with an intensity that makes your chest ache even more. “and sofia,” you continue, voice barely above a whisper now, “god, i hate her. i hate her. but not because of who she is. because she’s with you. because she’s standing where i used to stand, and i don’t know how to deal with that. i don’t know how to stop feeling like i’ve been replaced.”

you let out a shaky breath, trying to pull yourself together, but the tears keep falling. “i don’t know how to let go of you, rafe. i don’t think i ever learned how.”

for a moment, rafe doesn’t say anything, and you’re terrified that you’ve just completely exposed yourself, that you’ve made a fool of yourself

“rafe,” you whisper, feeling exposed, vulnerable. “i’m sorry.”

he steps forward again, and before you can say anything else, he cups your face in his large hands. “what the hell is wrong with you?” you breathe, staring into his eyes before gazing at his lips like they’re a threat. “get off of me.”

he keeps his hands cupping your face, his thumb coming up to brush any wetness away from underneath your eyes, his voice low, “y’know, i’ve missed you, y/n. more than you know.”

you blink up at him in shock, your tears momentarily forgotten.

“i don’t wanna keep pretending. i don’t wanna keep fighting this,” he murmurs, and in a heartbeat, his lips are on yours.

the kiss is slow at first, hesitant, like he’s testing the waters, unsure if this is what you want. but the second your lips meet his, everything else fades away, a rush of emotions flooding in. it’s as if all the anger, sadness, and longing come crashing together, igniting something inside you that you thought had flickered out.

his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, and you feel yourself melting into him, like this is the only thing that’s made sense in a long time.

you kiss him back with equal fervor, pouring everything into it—months of heartache, yearning, and unfulfilled desire. your hands find their way to his collar, gripping it tightly as you lose yourself in the moment.

the world blurs around you, and all you can focus on is him—the way his lips move against yours, the warmth of his hand on your skin, the way your heart is pounding so hard you can barely breathe. it’s the first time you’ve kissed him since the breakup, and it’s everything. too much, too fast, but exactly what you’ve both been craving. he tastes like everything you’ve missed, and the warmth of his body against yours feels like coming home.

when you finally pull back, both of you breathless, your foreheads rest against each other, eyes locked. his thumb moves, brushing lightly against your bottom lip, and your heart skips a beat. “french 75,” he whispers, like he’s tasted something familiar.

he knows. of course, he knows. he always knew your favorite drink. he can taste it on your tongue. you can’t help it—your lips twitch into a small smile, despite the tears still clinging to your lashes.

erm guys was that lowkey fastpaced as fuck.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

handlebars

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male and female receiving oral, face fucking, golf, rafe calling reader slut and whore but lovingly lol, established relationship, female masturbation kinda, bit of a dom/sub relationship but really its just rafes personality, semi public sex

“princess.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head as you're sat at your vanity, dabbing some blush onto your cheeks.

“mhm?” you tilt your head up, allowing rafe to press a kiss to your lips, not used to feeling your kiss without lipgloss, the next step in your makeup routine.

“if you're good for me and don't complain about being bored today, ill let you suck me off on the green.”

“really?” you squeal, turning to get a better look at rafe.

“yeah.” rafe nods. “but no complaining while we are golfing. topper will be joining me so you gotta wait until after we are done.”

“im gonna be so good rafey, promise.”

“i know you will, good girl.” rafe bends to give you another kiss. “finish getting ready, im gonna go load my clubs into the car.”

“mkay.” you nod. “love you, handsome.”

“i know you do, baby.” rafe smirks before leaving the room.

you turn back to your mirror, quickly finishing your makeup before getting an idea.

you part your hair down the middle before tying them into pigtails on either side, adding a pink ribbon around either hair tie, pulling a couple strands out to frame your face.

you skip down the stairs, dressed in your favorite golfing outfit. despite never playing and just watching rafe, you love to dress the part, wearing a tight white athletic tank top and a flouncy pink skirt, so short it shows off your matching pink underwear way too easily with just the slightest bend of your hips.

“shit.” rafe smiles up at you. “can't wait to strip those clothes off you later.”

“why thank you baby.” you give a twirl, showing off your outfit to rafe, knowing the ultimate compliment on your clothing is to tell you how much he wants to rip them off of you.

“im gonna have to kill top if he even looks at you with your tits out like this.” rafes arms wrap around your waist to pull you tightly against his front, lifting your feet up off the ground.

you wrap your legs around his hips, pressing sticky kisses and leaving pink gloss behind as rafe carries you outside, placing you in his passenger seat that has become yours, your name even added in rhinestones to the sun visor next to the mirror.

you hum along to rafes music and cycle between looking out the window and looking over at rafe as he drives, the muscles on his arms defining his every turn on the way to the country club.

“oh, there's toppers truck.” you point as rafe pulls into the parking lot, grumbling something about you knowing what his truck looks like before pulling into a spot.

you wait for rafe to walk around to open your door, helping you step down and keeping your hands held tight together as he grabs his clubs and slings them over one shoulder.

“hi topper.” you smile as you see him sat in a cart, quickly moving to the back as you approach.

“hey rafe.” topper says, completely ignoring your hello, but you know it's not due to being rude.

“no complaining, remember.” rafe says as you slide along the bench seat, making sure not to move too far so your thigh touches rafes as he gets in to drive.

“i remember.” you nod. “i will definitely not complain when i get really really super bored.”

rafe shakes his head, an unwilling smile growing on his face as he drops one hand down to your thigh, squeezing it so tightly you almost cry out before he releases and puts the cart into drive, speeding towards the first hole.

--

“i was so good, wasn’t i?” you turn your head to the side to look at rafe as he drops topper back at the parking lot.

“i mean, you started complaining when we played 18 holes instead of 9.” rafe tsks.

“okay, but only for like a second before i remembered! come on rafe,” you lean over him, placing your hand on his chest, fingers ghosting up and down to entice him. “don’t you want me to suck you off?”

“of course i do.” rafe captures your lips in a kiss, tugging you closer to his side as he takes off again, navigating the course to an isolated spot.

“finally.” you move to your knees on the cart, watching as rafe stands and walks to the passenger side of the cart, keeping his back towards the main part of the club just in case anyone comes by. 

you reach forward, tugging on rafe shorts, undoing the zipper and button and pulling the sides of his pants apart. you reach into his pants and pull his cock out from his underwear, already starting to harden.

“i love it when i get my mouth on you and you’re still soft.” you press kisses along his length, feeling it grow under your lips before placing the head of his cock into his mouth, swiping your tongue over the slit.

“you’re such a whore.” rafe laughs. “dressed up like a slut and now you’re acting like it too.” 

you just nod, not willing to take your mouth off his cock just to acknowledge how much of a slut you are for him. you both already know what the truth is. 

rafe hardens in your mouth as you begin to move your head up and down, building up a slow pace that allows you to enjoy the taste of his skin, tongue sliding along the underside of his length.

“faster, baby.” rafe taps your cheek.

you pull off and frown up at him. “let me enjoy sucking you off. you said you’d let me.” 

“yeah but i wanna see what you can do. impress me.” 

the challenge from rafe works immediately as you wrap your lips around his cock, head bobbing up and down a lot quicker now as you build up tolerance in your throat, rafes length and girth too much to take him all the way down immediately.

“that's my girl.” rafe smiles down at you. “doing so good baby.”

you take a deep breath through your nose and move forward, pushing your nose into rafes shirt as you swallow around his length, resisting the urge to smile as you hear rafe moan.

“fuck.” 

you squeeze your eyes shut, determined to keep his cock all the way down your throat for as long as you can.

“god, you just keep getting better at this darling.”

you pull off and drop your head to cough before smiling up at rafe. “wanna fuck my mouth now?”

rafe leans down to kiss your forehead. “im gonna put a ring on your finger one day baby, i swear.”

“you better.” you know you're still young, but you can't wait for the day you can call yourself mrs. cameron.

rafe straightens back up, smearing the head of his cock over your mouth, coating your lips in a second layer of gloss.

rafe grabs onto your pigtails as your mouth opens, keeping your throat as slack as you can as his hips push forward.

rafe moves your head in unison with his thrusts, fingers knotting around the pink ribbon to keep his grip.

you have to reach forward and place your hands on his thighs to keep from falling forward, your knees no doubt turning bright red as they scrape back and forth with the power of his movements.

rafe doesn't bother holding back his moans as he tugs on your pigtails, hips undulating and rocking, hoping he's far enough from anyone else to hear his groans and gasps of your name.

“next will be your pussy.” rafe smirks down at you. “as soon as we get home im getting in that delicious little cunt of yours.”

you moan around his cock, thighs squeezing together as you think of all the times rafes been inside of you.

rafe tugs your pigtails, holding them like handlebars on a bike as his cock grows in your mouth. he wishes he could go for longer, to fuck your mouth for hours, but the thought of getting home to your pussy makes him too excited to hold himself back.

“gonna cum right down your throat.” rafe says, grunting as his hips speed up. “unless you want me to paint your pretty face for everyone to see.”

you moan again, the sound vibrating around rafes cock as your hand drops to your pussy, pressing over your underwear to give your clit some relief.

“you like that huh?” rafe questions. “want everyone at the country club to see my cum dripping down your face?”

you push your hand under your panties, rubbing at your wetness, a finger plunging into your heat.

“hey, cut that out.” rafe tugs on your pigtails. “you can rub your clit but don't open up your cunt for me. that's my job.”

you groan but move your fingers back to your clit, leaving your pussy to clench around nothing.

“don't worry, bunny.” rafe pats your cheek. “you'll be bouncing on something soon enough.”

rafe moans as your tongue flicks over the underside of his length, throat constricting as you swallow along his cock.

“fuck, close.” rafe warns, pumping his hips forward with renounced speed. 

rafes cock swells in your mouth and there's mere seconds before he releases, cum spurting down your throat.

“fuck!” he moans, giving one last thrust before pulling out.

you take a deep breath, hand still moving on your pussy as rafe breaths deeply, checking over his shoulder before tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

“stop that.” rafe hums, eyes dropping to between your legs.

“im so close.” you whine, keeping your fingers thrumming over your clit.

“yeah, and i wanna be the one to make you cum so stop.”

rafe picks you up and places your bum on the seat, frowning when he sees your knees. he presses kisses to each of the red splotches.

rafe pushes your thighs open next, pulling your hand out of your underwear as he tugs them to the side.

you didn't expect rafe to surge forward, mouth greedily eating your cunt, slurping on your wetness.

“fuck!” you squeal, head falling back as he focuses in on your clit, sucking with the taste of you on his tongue, sticking it out to flick over your clit.

“im- im gonna cum!” you warn, fingers tangling in his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt.

his mouth keeps working as you reach your high, moaning out rafes name as your clit pulses against his tongue.

he moves lower to press against your entrance, briefly dipping in. “gonna fuck you so soon.” he whispers, and you swear it's more to your cunt than it is to you.

“shit.” you fall back against the seat as rafe rearranges you, flinching when his hand brushes against your clit while putting your panties back in place.

“better not be sensitive by the time we get home.” rafe says, flipping your skirt back down to cover you before he shrugs. “or be sensitive, im fucking you either way.”

“you're such a dick.” you giggle as rafe drops his head to kiss you, lips melting together, the shared taste on your tongue mixing.

“love you.” he says. “future wifey. you give the best head.”

“wow, thanks.” you roll your eyes sarcastically, hands moving to your pigtails as rafe rounds the cart to drive back.

“you know, you really messed up my hair.” you frown, attempting to fix your bows without a mirror to look in.

“yeah, you can't wear that style again.” rafe looks over at you. “unless you want me to fuck your face every time.”

“well…” you tap your chin, a smile growing.

[puppyeared]

horrible truth bomb dropped on my head 20 min ago