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greengoblinswifey · 9 months ago

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My Winner- Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

warnings- unprotected sex, angry sex, creampie, daddy kink, slight argument/angst, fingering, face fucking, choking, ass slapping, degrading kink, praise kink, slight spoiler for s4 ep 1(takes place during s4 ep 1)

A/N: I haven’t written smut on here in so long but after watching the first episode of s4, i had to😛He looked so hot. Requests are open!

Cheering quickly transitioned into worry as JJ easily overtook Rafe in the dirt bike race. You didn’t want to doubt your boyfriend but for a moment it seemed as though he wasn’t going to win— and then he didn’t.

“Shit!” you screamed, as Rafe’s poor attempt of bumping the Pogue’s bike caused them both to come crashing down. It took everything out of you not to run over to him before the race was over.

“Oh my god, are you okay,” you asked, helping your boyfriend from the sand as the crowd ran over to Topper.

As much as you wanted to scold him for endangering himself and someone else, you held your composure.

Rafe was seething, but anything was better than JJ or John B winning the Enduro.

Before driving him home, Rafe and his sister Sarah had a squabble with him accusing her of killing their father. It wasn’t your place to interrupt but you looked at Sarah with apologetic eyes, dragging your boyfriend away before he said anything more hurtful.

“I don’t fucking care,” he mumbled, still seething from losing the race and the incident with Sarah.

“Oh I know you don’t, but how can you say that to your own sister? You know she’s grieving too right? How can you accuse her of killing your father?” He didn’t answer, the grip he had on your thigh getting more painful as you approached Tannyhill.

The door was barely closed before your boyfriend pushed you up against it, his hand around your neck.

“I’ve had a shitty day seeing those fucking Pogues and losing that race, and I don’t need your lecturing making it any worse. I’m gonna take you right here, right now.”

Unable to get a word in, he smashed his lips against yours, his hands going to your ass and squeezing. While you wanted to discuss what happened further, there was no way he’d allow that before he let his anger out. Not that you were complaining.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he uttered, his hand swirling your clit with the other hand still around your neck, “you love seeing me all worked up.”

“Maybe a little bit.”

He found the sweet spot on your neck as his skilled fingers swirled your clit, rubbing rough circles and sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. A gasp escaped your lips as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, giving you no time to adjust.

“Please,” you moaned, not even sure what you were begging for but his fingers felt too good inside you. The look on his face was almost enough to make you cum. The buzz cut, the dazed, lustful look in his eye as he released your neck from his kisses and stared at you.

“I can feel you just clenching around my fingers, so fucking close, cum for me slut,” he demanded. His thrusts sped up and his thumb rubbed circles on your clit, causing you to release all over his hand.

“That’s a good fucking slut, now, my turn.” He forced you to your knees, stripped himself and you of your clothes leaving you both bare. His cock was painfully hard in front of you, thick with the head glistening.

He tapped your mouth, you already knew what was about to happen. Rafe groaned as he shoved his cock down your throat, bucking his hips and shuddering, savoring how good your mouth felt around him.

“Gonna fuck your throat okay? If you want me to stop, don’t hesitate to tap my thigh.” You looked up at him and nodded, naked on your knees with his cock filling your mouth.

He held your hair in his hands, snapping his hips forward and fucking your throat. Your nails dug into his thighs, trying not to gag and focusing on the feeling of him so deep in your throat.

“God, look at you, on your knees just taking whatever I give you,” he moaned at the sight below him.

Humming around his cock, you used more tongue, swirling it around the head as he pulled out all the way and slammed into the back of your throat.

“I love it when you moan around my cock like a little whore,” he chuckled in between moans.

You could feel how close he was getting as his brutal thrusts sped up and his cock throbbed in your mouth. “Get ready, open up that fucking throat, get ready to swallow every drop of my cum, bitch,” he moaned.

You did as you were told and continue suckling on his dick, his pace faltering as his cum shot down your throat.

“Fucking hell, good girl, that’s my baby,” he breathed, slowly thrusting to make sure you swallowed every drop.

He lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around him, your lips meeting in a sloppy kiss as he tasted the remnants of himself on your tongue.

You opened your eyes as Rafe threw you unto his bed, his cock still hard and ready for your dripping pussy. His eyes were locked on yours as he slowly inched inside you and for a moment you thought you were about to have sweet, loving sex.

“Daddy,” you gasped, feeling him snap harshly against you, his cock practically kissing your cervix. Sweet, loving sex was clearly not in the works.

“Fucking take it,” he whispered, sending shivers throughout your body. His pace was brutal and the headboard knocked against the wall continuously as he fucked you hard.

“Mm, daddy, feels so good,” you cried, his cock going in and out of you roughly, making you see stars and you hadn’t even cum yet. Rafe wrapped his hand around your neck, and used the other to pinch your nipples, making you feel even more ripples of pleasure.

“Fucking cum all over daddy’s cock, now,” he demanded. His lips captured yours as you shuddered under him, your climax overtaking your body, but he didn’t stop. He continued fucking you hard through your climax, your tits bouncing, your body and the bed moving upwards, roughly.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, so fucking hot when you cum for me. Now get on all fours.”

The loss of his cock inside you made you whine, but you did as you were told, going on your hands and knees, arching your back just the way he liked it. “What an obedient slut, good girl,” he cooed.

Rafe pressed your face into the bed as his rough thrusts began, this angle making him feel even deeper inside your pussy.

“Fuck,” he moaned, the sound going straight to your pussy. You absolutely loved when he was vocal.

“Mhm, yeah,” you moaned, as he slapped your ass and dug his nails into your hips, slamming you hard against his cock. He pulled you back by your neck, your back arching off his body, his pace never faltering. “Rub your clit for me baby.” You obeyed, rubbing your clit as he fucked you from behind, moaning in your ear.

“Daddy, gonna cum,” you managed to croak out. This made him speed up his thrusts and he rolled his hips, continuously hitting the sweet spot inside you as you lost yourself on his thick cock.

“Good girl, that’s it, feels good doesn’t it? I know it does baby, I know,” he cooed, “but daddy isn’t done with you yet.”

Your body fell limp on the bed and he lifted your hips, pressing you into the bed as he chased his own orgasm. You screamed, the pleasure almost too much having cum three times already.

“You can take it baby, be a good girl and take what I give you.”

You nodded frantically, rubbing circles on your needy clit as his thrusts got harder and sloppier, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the room. With a loud moan, you squirted on his cock, surprising you both and making Rafe spurt his cum inside you almost immediately. He continued fucking you through both your highs as your legs shook and you began seeing stars.

He collapsed on the bed beside you and you snuggled into him, your body aching from the treatment he gave you a minute prior. You lay in silence, only the sounds of your heavy breathing filling the room.

“You’re my winner, Rafe.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. You always knew what to say to make him feel better.

“I may not have won but as long as I did in your eyes.”

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cherrysinner · 2 months ago

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─── PARKING LOT ♡

♡ pairing: perv!reader x nerd!rafe

♡ summary: you kiss rafe and cause him to have… a problem. that you need to solve.

♡ warnings / tags: fluff, smut, oral, (m receiving) MDNI!

♡ author's note: you guessed it… this was inspired by #1 nerd!rafe stan @raahosh

PERVERT MASTERLIST ♡ RAFE MASTERLIST

your fingers were intertwined with rafe's, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand while his other hand was wrapped around the steering wheel. you hummed softly along to the music playing on the radio, looking out your the window at the passing scenery of storefronts and people walking down the street.

the two of you pulled up in front of a walmart, your boyfriend killing the engine and turning to you with an adoring smile, "alright, baby, what'd you need again?" he asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "pads, raspberry-chocolate ice cream and moisturizer by beauty of joseon."

"got it." rafe nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose, "pads, ice cream, and moisturizer..." "only beauty of joseon. got it? you've seen the packaging, you know what it looks like." "i got it." rafe chuckled fondly, "alright, i'll be right back."

but before your boyfriend could even take his seatbelt off, you grabbed hold of his shirt collar and tugged him to you, crashing your lips to his. rafe let out a quiet moan as your hand wound up to his styled hair, tugging on the strands before your hand slid down the back of his neck, your tongue stroking his.

you pulled away with a grin, a string of saliva connecting your lips, your boyfriend panting, his pupils nearly overtaking his beautiful, blue eyes.

"alright, head on in." you smiled. rafe cleared his throat, squeezing his eyes shut. "i... i can't." he mumbled, "what? what do you- oh."

your sentence was interrupted when you looked down at rafe's lap, noticing the very visible bulge in his khakis. you let out a snort of a laughter, making the boy exclaim, "hey!" "i'm sorry." you chuckled again, this time in a softer tone, "that's- that's normal. i'm sure a lot of guys get hard from... their girlfriend kissing them." you snorted once again.

"that's mean!" rafe whined, but you simply shook your head, biting down on your lower lip, "then let me help you with your problem."

rafe watched as you unbuckled his belt and undid his pant buttons and zipper, his bulge visible through the blue-and-white square patterned boxer shorts he wore. you brought your hand to the outline of his cock, rafe taking in a deep breath as you stroked his length through the fabric.

"have you been good lately?" you purred, stroking his cock through his boxer shorts, "are you gonna get me everything i need? "a-always..." he breathed out, making you chuckle. you tugged down the band of his boxer shorts, his cock standing at attention. you brought your hand to your mouth and spit onto the palm of your hand, before bringing it down to the base of rafe's cock.

you stroked his cock, making rafe let out a gasp as the angry-red tip of his dick released some precum. "someone's excited..." you purred, slowly bringing your mouth closer to where he craved you.

when your lips finally met his cock, your hand was at the base of it and your lips pressed a gentle peck on the head of it, making him shiver. you then brought your mouth to the base of his cock, licking a stripe up a vein on his cock, rafe letting out a shameless moan.

your head bobbed up and down on his cock, rafe gently holding your hair back as he whispered compliments to you, all the while his cock kept hitting the back of your throat. you pulled away from his cock breathlessly, spit still connecting your mouth to the head of his cock, "tug my hair harder..." you mumbled breathlessly, bringing your mouth back onto his cock.

rafe unsurely did as you told him to, and you sunk your mouth down on him, the moan you let out muffled by his length. finally he was putting some force into it.

your head bopped up and down his cock, your panties getting wetter the harder rafe tugged your hair until he whimpered, "i'm... i'm close..."

his words made you pick up your pace, holding onto the base of his cock harder, hollowing your cheeks out more, all until rafe's hips started thrusting up harder, the man breathing roughly. "yes, yes, yeeeee-"

you felt warm spurts of cum in your mouth, taking in everything he gave you before you pulled your head away from his cock and looked at rafe, sticking your cum-coated tongue out. rafe watched in a complete daze as you closed your mouth and swallowed.

"now." you smiled, tugging the waistband of rafe's boxer shorts up to cover his softening cock, "remember. pads, chocolate-raspberry ice cream, and moisturizer by beauty of joseon." you smiled, stroking a strand of loose sandy hair behind rafe's ear, "or you're never getting this again."

and rafe made sure to remember.

TAGLIST: @raahosh @parfaitblogs @purpleplumpudding @nemesyaaa @rafesheaven @esotericcangel @mattyskies @dollyfiles @bakugouswaif @littlelamy @izumis-salty-penis @nonietosay @my-name-is-baby @tinythebunni @cameronsbabydoll

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shortnspidey · 1 month ago

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MANCHILD

Rafe Cameron X Kook!Reader || WC: 6.5K

SUMMARY: Being friends with Rafe Cameron was never simple. Especially when that friendship blurred into something more, only his behavior made it impossible to hold onto hope. You grew tired of picking up the pieces, of being his fallback girl while he refused to grow up. You wanted something real, not emotional whiplash. And if Rafe couldn't stop treating your heart like an afterthought, you’d rather walk away than let him break it again.

WARNINGS: Typical OBX themes, cursing, mentions of drugs and alcohol, Rafe (because that man is a warning), mild violence, platonic JJ x reader, angst, fluffy ending

A/N: This fic is inspired by miss Sabrina's new single which has been on repeat for me since it first came out. Hope y’all enjoy! <3

➩ main masterlist

➩ rafe cameron masterlist

The Kildare Enduro was a staple for a reason, more than just a race, it was a spectacle. The air buzzed with the tang of gasoline and dust, the guttural roar of engines rolling across the makeshift track. Cheers echoed from every direction, both Kooks and Pogues, red Solo cups in hand, locals hyped up by the scent of adrenaline and the promise of utter and pure chaos. You hadn’t planned on going.

Honestly, the idea of peeling yourself out of bed and into the heat just to watch overgrown boys play with horsepower didn’t thrill you. Yet by mid-morning, Kiara had shown up at your door honking her horn like a madwoman, and Sarah wasn’t too far behind. Before you knew it, you were shoved in the backseat of the Twinkie, the smell of sunscreen, spilled soda, and JJ's lingering weed filling the car as the windows stayed down, blasting music as the coastline blurred past.

And so here you were, standing off to the side, arms crossed over your chest, trying to act interested as Sarah excitedly pointed out one stunt after another. Dirt bikes shot off ramps like they had wings, tires skidding across loose gravel, riders pulling off reckless backflips and tail whips just to earn a few more cheers, as well as few more bets in their favor. Still, your eyes kept scanning the crowd of competitors. Your jaw tensed every time you caught a glimpse of blonde hair under a helmet.

Every time a voice in your head asked, Is that him? You hated that you were doing this, searching for him. Rafe Cameron had no business being here, but of course that’s what made it so likely. That boy never met a bad idea he didn’t like, and danger? He wore it like a badge of honor. You used to find that magnetic. Now, it just made your stomach twist. You told yourself you were over it. That you were done playing the one he came crawling to when everything else blew up in his face.

Yet, there you stood, heart betraying you in the quiet ways it always had with him. Because no matter how hard you tried to act unaffected, part of you still wondered if he’d show up. If he’d look for you in the crowd like you were always looking for him. And worse, if he’d still expect you to be waiting. Because if there was one thing Rafe Cameron knew how to do, it was running to you when he had nowhere else to go. So instead of looking for him among the crowd, you tuned into Pope’s voice, as he spit out statistics and predictions that barely masked your restlessness.

He was mid-sentence, rattling off about ratios and tire grip percentages like a man possessed, while Cleo crouched low by JJ’s bike, her hands moving with practiced precision. She was focused, wiping grime off the throttle, double-checking bolts, making sure the motorcycle wouldn’t betray JJ mid-race. You envied that clarity, knowing exactly what needed fixing and how to do it. You wished your heart worked the same way. Then it happened, almost as if he knew you had just stopped searching for him.

The sharp, cocky growl of an engine sliced through the air. You didn’t even have to look. You felt him before you saw him. Rafe’s bike was louder than it needed to be, all polished chrome and empty bravado, and when he rolled to a stop a few feet away, the tension in the air shifted. Like gravity decided to pull toward him instead of the earth. Topper, as usual was right there at his side, already sneering in JJ and John B’s direction.

Rafe didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. His helmet was off, tucked under one arm, and his eyes were locked on you, stormy, unreadable, and furious. You scoffed under your breath before you could stop yourself. A sharp, involuntary sound that was equal parts amusement and exhaustion. Of course he would show up like this. Of course he’d find a way to remind you he was always watching. And JJ noticed. In an instant, he was by your side, arm slinging around your shoulders with that boyish ease that only he could pull off without effort.

He gave you a half-hug that you reciprocated, his touch grounding you in that moment. "You won't be mad if I beat your boyfriend, right, Y/N?" He asked, that trademark grin playing on his lips. You rolled your eyes, but smiled despite yourself. His timing was impeccable. "I'm not his keeper, so go ahead, JJ." The words came with a sigh, a little more tired than you intended. But it was the truth. Because you weren’t. You weren’t Rafe’s anything. Not officially. Not out loud. But that didn’t mean it didn’t feel like something.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the sharp turn of Rafe’s head. He was staring at the way JJ’s arm rested around your shoulder like it belonged there. His jaw clenched, knuckles whitening around the helmet in his grip. If looks could kill, JJ would’ve been six feet under. And still, he said nothing. He never said anything. Just played his games, ran hot one night and frigid the next. Made you feel like the center of his universe, then vanished into silence like none of it ever happened. You were tired of wondering if the fire in his eyes meant love, hate, or something in between.

You missed the look Kiara and Sarah shared beside you, one of knowing sympathy. Instead, you focused on the stack of bracelets on your wrist, fingers tugging one higher up your arm as if rearranging them could settle the ache building in your chest. If Rafe Cameron wanted to pretend he didn’t care, then fine. You could play that game too. But you couldn’t deny it, no matter how much space you tried to put between your heart and his, you still felt that same sharp pull every time he was near.

The question was: how much longer could you pretend it didn’t matter?

With one last reassuring squeeze to your shoulder, JJ peeled away, his usual swagger in full effect as he made his way toward the makeshift starting line. He slipped seamlessly into the scene, nodding at John B who stood beside him, his designated backup. The two of them huddled around JJ’s bike, doing final checks while the other racers began rolling their machines into position. The air had shifted. Thicker now, electric with anticipation.

The countdown hadn’t even begun and already your nerves felt like frayed wires sparking under your skin. Your gaze moved instinctively, searching again despite yourself and caught on Rafe. He was standing by his bike, the picture of smug confidence. He looked good. That was the worst part. Too good. The kind of effortless good that pissed you off because he didn’t even have to try. But what cut deeper was the way he moved, purposeful, sharp, stalking toward John B like their rivalry hadn’t cooled one bit. You watched as he gestured with his chin toward you, chest puffed like a warning shot.

You couldn’t hear what he said, but the smug scoff that followed said enough. Then, like nothing happened, he turned away. No glance back. No smirk. No flicker of anything in his eyes as he marched back to his bike and secured his helmet, sealing himself off from the world. From you. Just like always, he pushed, then pulled away. Said nothing, but expected you to read between the silences. You told yourself you were done falling for that routine, but your chest still ached like he had sucker-punched the air out of your lungs without even touching you.

“Yo, JJ, did you build that yourself from a kit?” Topper’s voice tore through the moment like nails on a chalkboard, loud, mocking, and as insufferable as ever. You visibly cringed at the sound. God, how you hated him. JJ didn’t skip a beat. He flashed a grin over his shoulder. “It’s not about the bike, bro. You’ll see.” You watched him mount his bike like he belonged there, like every piece of him was aligned with the machine beneath him. Still, your eyes drifted again, betraying you again.

Rafe, now sat rigid and ready, fingers gripping the handlebars, jaw set tight under the visor of his helmet. His posture was stiff, like he was fighting something. Maybe nerves. Maybe rage. Or maybe, just maybe, the sight of JJ with his arm around you was still echoing in his mind like gunfire. You secretly hoped that was the reason. That way he could get a taste of what you felt every time he was surrounded by women, flirting shamelessly as if you weren’t in the same room and felt the way you did about him. You leaned toward Cleo, dropping your voice low.

“What are the odds that asshole has a mechanical issue?” You asked motioning over towards Topper. Cleo’s eyes sparkled as she bit back a laugh. “Wishful hoping,” She muttered back making you smile. It was a joke. Mostly. It’s safe to say you never wish for anything harder. The starting flags rose in the air. Engines revved. The race was seconds away, and so was the potential fallout. Because no matter how fast they rode, you knew someone’s pride wasn’t making it out of this clean. “Alright guys, listen up!”

A voice called, muffled slightly by the noise of revving engines and the crowd’s restless energy. You looked up to see the woman in charge, stepping up onto a dented cooler like it was her podium. “Race is to the old buoy and back!” She shouted, voice clear now that the engines had quieted slightly. “Other than that, no rules!” That was the part that made your stomach twist. No rules meant no mercy. Not when it came to egos like Rafe Cameron’s. He was the kind of person who didn’t see boundaries, only opportunities to push harder, to hurt more.

And something in his body language told you this wasn’t just about winning the race. This was about making a point. The competitors lined up, front tires angled toward the narrow break between dunes that led to the open beach trail. You caught sight of JJ, already straddling his bike, shoulders rolling like he was shaking off the nerves. John B was by his smacking JJ’s back for luck. The woman raised her hand. The crowd buzzed louder. Your heart beat out of sync with everything around you.

“On your marks!”

The engines howled.

“Get set!”

The world held its breath.

“GO!”

The ground seemed to explode. Sand kicked up in a cloud as tires spun and rocketed forward, engines screaming with unleashed fury. The racers surged down the path, weaving past each other in a blur. All except one. JJ’s bike lurched forward with a weak cough, then sputtered. The rear tire kicked up a sad puff of sand before sinking deeper, completely stuck. The bike tilted slightly, and JJ slammed a palm against the handlebar in frustration.

The rear tire spun wildly, digging deeper into the soft sand. He leaned forward, adjusted, gunned the throttle, nothing. The machine jerked once, uselessly, then sputtered. It was stuck, buried just enough to throw off his start. Your heart plummeted. The rest of the riders tore down the beach, out front, unmistakably, Rafe had taken the lead, completely unbothered by what was happening behind him. JJ jumped off, digging his boots into the sand, yanking the handlebars with a frustrated burst of energy.

The bike rocked, tilted, but he didn’t give up. A second, maybe two, passed like an eternity. Then the rear wheel caught. He was back on in a flash. With one violent twist of the throttle, JJ surged forward, the engine finally catching traction. He disappeared into the chase, trailing behind the rest but gaining speed fast. You stood frozen, heart hammering. Pope said something behind you. Cleo moved toward the track, slow and calculating. Kiara’s hand brushed your arm, grounding you, but all you could focus on was the tightening knot in your chest.

The distant roar of engines echoed against the crashing surf as JJ disappeared into the shimmering heat haze of the beach trail, far behind the rest. But even from where you stood, you could see the determination in the way his body hunched low over the handlebars, elbows tucked, eyes locked ahead. He was pushing the bike hard, harder than most would dare on that terrain. After all he had everything to lose. By the lack of noise, you guessed that some racers had begun falling behind as sandbanks and tight curves slowed them down.

However, out front as announced by the umpires, Rafe cut through the course like a man possessed. He wasn’t just racing, he was performing. Kicking up sand with tail slides, lifting the front wheel into a controlled wheelie, twisting into sharp turns just close enough to the flags to make people gasp. Every stunt was loud. Designed to draw eyes. And it worked. Only, JJ was gaining. Little by little, the distance closed. He blew past two riders stuck behind a shallow tide pool. Skated around another who tried to block him out near the jagged driftwood stretch.

John B wasn’t far ahead, holding steady behind Topper, who rode like the bastard he was, weaving, swerving too close, flinging sand into John B’s path with every exaggerated cut of his back wheel. And then he did it. Just as JJ was narrowing in on them, Topper slowed, only to sharply cut across John B’s lane, nearly clipping his front tire. John B swerved, barely staying upright, skidding dangerously close to the rock-slick shoreline. JJ veered wide to avoid the tangle, engine snarling in protest as he charged forward.

Behind his helmet, you could practically feel the heat of JJ’s fury. The trail narrowed ahead, splitting into two lanes before leading to the inlet: a wide stretch of water, deceptively shallow in places, but tricky to navigate. Most racers slowed down, planning to take the longer arc around it. Rafe didn’t. He sped straight for the edge, lifted his front tire, and jumped, his bike slicing cleanly through the air before landing with a spray of sand on the other side. The crowd screamed, thrilled by the recklessness of it.

But JJ wasn’t backing down. He was last into the turn. Last to the edge. But instead of hesitating, he went faster, faster than he should’ve. You watched, breath caught in your throat, as he hit the lip of the dune and launched. He cleared the inlet. For a heartbeat, he was airborne and then before any of you could blink, he landed hard, suspension groaning as his wheels bit into the sand. And just like that, he was in front of Rafe. You didn’t even realize you were clenching your fists until Sarah gasped beside you, grabbing your arm.

The crowd was deafening, and yet all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears as JJ surged ahead, heading toward the finish line. But Rafe wouldn’t have it. He was right behind him now, tucked in close, too close. The two of them thundered across the final stretch, neck and neck. You saw it happening before it happened. Rafe angled in, subtle at first, then harder. He clipped the back of JJ’s tire with the front of his own. In result, JJ’s bike bucked sideways. For a split second, it looked like he might recover. But it was too late.

Both bikes skidded.

Both riders went airborne.

The impact wasn't catastrophic, but it was violent, bodies rolling, metal skidding, sand exploding in clouds as the two of them hit the ground, limbs tangled, bikes flipping beside them. The entire crowd held its breath. You could feel your pulse in your teeth. Bottom lip caught in between your teeth so hard it drew blood. You heard Kiara gasp as JJ pushed himself up first, coughing. Rafe followed, rolling onto his back, helmet cracked at the edge. Yet the race wasn’t over. Through the cloud of chaos, one rider crossed the line.

Topper.

His smug face tore past the checkered flag as the woman waved the finish. He threw his arms in the air, howling in victory as if he hadn’t just sabotaged half the damn race. Around you, people cheered. Pope shouted something. Kiara cursed. Sarah rushed towards John B. All you could do was watch as JJ ripped off his helmet, face flushed and jaw clenched, standing in the wreckage of what should have been his moment. He didn’t look at Topper. He didn’t even look at Rafe. He just stared at the finish line like it was mocking him.

By the time you and the rest of the Pogues reached him, he’d already turned his back. John B got to him first, hand outstretched, but JJ swatted it away with a sharp shake of his head. Kiara tried next, murmuring something under her breath as she reached for his arm, but he pulled free. He was seething. You stopped short a few feet away, your shoes digging into the sand as you watched the scene unfold from the outside. Eventually, JJ walked off, shoulders rigid, leaving the others calling after him. No one followed.

You stood there, arms crossed and unsure whether to chase after him or let him cool off. You knew him well enough to know that pushing would only make it worse. Still, your chest ached with the need to do something, to say something. But the words stayed stuck in your throat, heavy and uncertain. Before you could move, a shadow passed beside you. Rafe. He walked with a slight limp, favoring his left knee as he approached, dust and blood smeared across his temple. His helmet hung loosely in one hand, forgotten.

You didn’t look at him. Not right away. Not until he stopped a few feet away, gaze heavy on you. You could feel it, like heat against your skin. Slowly, you turned, cautious and guarded, unsure what he’d come to say. His mouth opened as if to speak, but nothing came out at first. For once, the arrogant smirk was gone. Replaced with something that looked dangerously close to regret. He took a breath, voice low and strained. “Can we please talk?” You didn’t respond. You weren’t sure you could.

So he tried again. Something about the way he looked at you, lost and pleading beneath the cracks in his armor made your chest tighten. He looked vulnerable. You didn’t want to give him this moment. Not after everything. Not after how he'd handled you, or worse, how he'd handled JJ. But you hesitated. And in that hesitation, he stepped closer, his expression softening just enough to remind you that despite everything he was, he still felt something. “Just a minute, please Y/N.” He rasped, motioning off to the side.

It wasn’t a demand. It was a beg. And against every bitter impulse, you gave the smallest of nods. Only a minute. But you already knew, nothing about this was going to be simple. The weight of Rafe’s request lingered in the space between you, unsettling and hard to ignore. You hated how easily his voice slipped beneath your skin, how his presence still sparked something sharp and tangled in your chest. And yet, despite everything you followed him. Behind you, the Pogues watched in stunned silence.

Their gazes pressed into your back. You turned, just once, to look at them. Pope’s brow was furrowed, clearly fighting the urge to say something. Cleo stood with her arms crossed, a hard edge in her stance. Kiara looked like she didn’t know whether to stop you or simply trust your judgment. John B’s jaw practically dropped. And Sarah, Sarah’s eyes held something softer, understanding maybe, but it only made the knot in your throat tighten. You met their eyes hesitantly, almost shamefully.

Then, without thinking, you gave them all a half-assed thumbs up. Was it your proudest moment? Most definitely not. Was it reassurance? Hardly, you thought mentally kicking yourself. You weren’t even sure if it was for them or so that you could reassure yourself. To nobody’s super, they didn’t return it. They just watched as you turned away. Following after the one person you shouldn’t. And all you could think of in that moment was: What could possibly go wrong?

Despite everything in your body that screamed don’t do this, the ache in your gut, the guilt simmering under your skin you followed him. Rafe didn’t look back as he led you down the path, steps heavy against the old wood of the dock. The cheers and chaos of the race faded behind you, swallowed by the sound of the ocean, waves crashing against rocks like a warning you couldn’t quite decipher. The pier was nearly deserted.

Only seagulls overhead and the distant hiss of the wind weaving through rusted rails. But inside your chest, your heartbeat was deafening. Rafe stopped near the edge, dried blood at his temple. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at you. And that silence, it lit a spark you didn’t bother putting out. “Are you going to talk,” You snapped, voice cutting through the quiet like glass. “Or just stand there while I try to read your mind like always?” Your words hung in the air, bitter and biting.

He flinched, barely, but you caught it. His jaw tightened, muscles twitching beneath his skin as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides like he didn’t trust them not to break something. Or maybe he didn’t trust himself not to reach for you. You waited, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. Not just at him, for the crash, for JJ, for the way he looked at you like you were his and nothing at all at the same time, but mostly at yourself, too.

For being here. For caring. For still looking at him and wanting answers when you should’ve walked away the moment he asked. Rafe exhaled sharply, jaw ticking, still not meeting your eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to go down like that.” He muttered, finally. Quiet. Almost like he hated the words as they left his mouth. You scoffed, stepping forward, heart pounding. “You purposely bumped his tire, Rafe. He could’ve gotten seriously hurt. You could’ve gotten hurt too.”

“I know,” He growled, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck, fingers twitching near the fading bruises down his arm. “It just, happened.” You couldn’t believe the words coming out from his mouth. “That’s always your excuse, isn’t it?” Your voice broke, sharper than you intended it to. “It just happened. Like every time you flip the switch between whatever this is and pretending like I don’t exist.” He looked at you then. And for a second, you hated him for it, because he looked wrecked.

Eyes bloodshot around the edges, pain laced in the lines of his face. No smugness. No front. “You are never going to change, are you?” You whimpered, voice cracking as the weight of it all finally broke. Your throat burned as the tears you’d been holding back began to fall, hot and bitter against your cheeks. You didn’t wait for an answer. You didn’t need one. Because you already knew. “You only show up when everything around you’s falling apart. Every time I think you’re about to step up, you do the opposite,” You continued, voice wobbling but unwavering.

“You know how I feel about you. And I thought… I really thought I knew how you felt about me. Yet everything you do just makes it harder to believe any of it was real.” You shook your head, more tears falling, more rage rising. “I deserve better than this,” You declared fiercely, though the tremor in your hands betrayed you. “You act like I’m someone you need, and then treat me like I’m disposable the second things get too real. I’ve been patient, but I’m done waiting for you to figure out how to care about someone without setting them on fire first.”

You swiped your cheek roughly, trying to ground yourself, but the trembling only got worse. “I’m not your therapist. I’m not your outlet. I’m not a punching bag for when you hate the person you’ve become.” You paused, just long enough to gather the last of your strength. “I deserve something real, Rafe,” You muttered, softer now. “Or nothing at all.” You looked up at him, fully, everything laid bare in your expression. “So what is it?” You asked, voice sharp again.

“What was so important that you had to pull me aside for? Or was this just another one of your half-assed attempts to mark your territory like I’m some thing you own?” Your heart thundered as you stepped back, your final words slicing the space between you. “I’m not yours. And you’re not mine. Not like this. So either find the balls to tell me how you really feel, or leave me the hell alone once and for all.” And still, he said nothing. Not a word. Not even a breath. His silence settled over the dock like fog, thick, suffocating.

You felt it in your chest, in your spine, in the way your legs suddenly wanted to give out. You stared at him, pleading, just for something. But there was only silence. And maybe, you thought, that was the answer. Maybe it always had been. Maybe you just had been to blinded to see what was right in front of you. Making the decision for him, you turned to leave, heart pounding so hard you felt nauseous, as your feet moved on instinct, away from him, away from everything.

But his voice cut through the noise in your head, sharp and sudden. “I love you.” You froze mid-step. Those three words. So quiet. So simple. So devastatingly late. You didn’t turn around. You just stood there, eyes wide, body suspended like the breath caught in your lungs. Because those words, they were everything you’d wanted, and everything you could no longer afford to believe. “I know I’ve been absolute shit at showing you how I feel.” You could hear his footsteps now, cautious, like he didn’t know if he was walking into forgiveness or finality.

“It’s just…” He trailed off, and you could picture him, rubbing the back of his neck, biting at the inside of his cheek like he always did when his mind spiraled. “I didn’t know how else to tell you.”His breath hitched. “I thought maybe if I pissed you off enough, you’d hate me. And that would be easier.” You looked over your shoulder, not daring to meet his eyes fully. Just enough to see the shake in his stance. His fingers twitching like he didn’t know what to do with them.

His buzzed hair was damp with sweat, forehead creased in a way that looked older than he was.“You deserve the world, Y/N,” He declared, voice low and raw. “And I’m a selfish bastard. I took you for granted. Over and over again. And even while I was doing it, I knew, I knew the only thing I really wanted was you.” He ran a hand across his face, like he was trying to physically wipe the guilt away. “But I was scared. I am scared. So I did the only thing I know how to do. I hurt people. I keep people away before they can see the parts of me I can’t even stand to look at.” There was a tremble in his voice now.

“Y/N,” He whispered your name like a prayer. “I love you so fucking much it terrifies me.” Your eyes slammed shut. The tears came again, quieter this time. Slower. Your body gave the faintest shudder, as if every emotion you had tried to suppress was clawing its way back up to the surface. Behind you, he stepped closer. Only a few feet away now.“If you give me a chance,” He pleaded, softer now, “I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you. I’ll show you that you were never a placeholder. You’ve always been the thing I’ve wanted most, the only thing.”

Silence settled between you again, but this time it wasn’t empty. It was full. Full of grief. Full of longing. Full of everything neither of you had said until now. Your heart beat wildly against your ribs, and you weren’t sure if it was from heartbreak or hope. You could feel his eyes on you. The way he held his breath. Waiting. After a few seconds, not being able to stand the silence swallowing the space between you, Rafe closed the distance. His movements were hesitant, cautious, like he was afraid one wrong breath might send you running.

The waves behind you crashed louder now, as if even the ocean was holding its breath. He stepped in front of you slowly, forcing your gaze up. “Please, baby…” He whispered, voice frayed at the edges. It broke something in you. Not because of what he said, but because of how he said it. Rafe Cameron didn’t beg. But now, he stood before you, shoulders hunched, eyes glassy, desperation bleeding into every line of his face. Then he did something you never could’ve predicted. He dropped to his knees. Your breath caught. You blinked, not quite believing it.

His frame folding to the ground in front of you, pride left somewhere far behind on the dock. His hands reached up, trembling slightly, as if asking for permission before he even touched you. You didn't move. Not yet. Your heart thudded in your chest, thunderous and confused. His fingers brushed yours, featherlight. And then he took your hands in his, gently, like holding something he’d already broken once and didn’t dare risk dropping again. “I’m sorry for everything,” He choked out, head lowered, voice cracking around the apology. Tears spilled freely now, not just yours.

His too. His chest heaved with them, quiet and broken as they came. “I’m so sorry for hurting you,” He whispered, his thumbs brushing the backs of your hands like they were trying to erase the pain he’d left behind. “Every time I look at you I feel like I’m watching something I’ll never deserve… but I still want to be better, for you. Because you loved me even when I gave you nothing.” You swallowed hard, throat raw. And still, he didn’t rise. Rafe stayed there, knees on splintered wood, forehead nearly pressed to your joined hands.

Not as a performance. Not to manipulate. But because he didn’t know any other way to show you how completely he'd fallen apart. “I’m scared of who I am without you,” He admitted softly, shame pouring out between each syllable. “But I’m more scared of who I’ve become with you thinking I don’t care.” You didn’t realize you were crying until your tears hit the tops of his knuckles. He felt them. And his grip tightened just slightly, like he knew he’d struck something deep, and couldn’t let go. For the first time, maybe ever, there was no mask.

No bravado. No storm of chaos cloaking his words. Just Rafe. Unarmored. On his knees. Apologizing not because he wanted to be forgiven, but because he needed you to know that he finally understood the cost of loving without care. And he had never wanted anything more than to try again. This time the right way. If you let him. Something in you cracked. Maybe it was the way he said your name. Or maybe it was the sight of him, Rafe Cameron, down on his knees, pride shattered, hands trembling as he reached for you.

Or maybe it was the grief behind his tears, grief for the damage he caused, and for the possibility he’d lost you for good. But instead of falling with him, you reached out. Your fingers curled around his, gentle but firm, like an anchor. He looked up at you with wide eyes, the kind of vulnerability you never thought he’d be capable of showing. There was no mask now. No biting smirk. Just the boy underneath it all, the one who had been quietly begging you to see him, even when he was doing everything to push you away.

You didn’t kneel. You pulled him up. Slowly, like gravity was fighting it, like every inch closer to you was some kind of redemption. He stood unevenly, breath shallow, blinking like he didn’t know what would happen next. He towered just slightly over you now, body stiff, afraid to touch you, waiting. You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. Because the moment his eyes met yours, everything inside of you exploded. And before you could talk yourself out of it, you kissed him.

You surged forward, grabbing the front of his shirt and crashing your lips into his like it was the only thing tethering you to the earth. The kiss was messy, desperate, teeth knocking and breaths stolen. His hands found your face almost too quickly, like he’d been dreaming of this moment and memorizing how to hold you. It wasn’t gentle. It was full of rage, of pain, of longing. Of everything you never got to say. It was an apology and a confession and a scream all in one.

It was grief meeting grief, and choosing not to be alone anymore. He kissed you like he was starving. Like this was the only thing that could make the noise in his head go quiet. His mouth moved against yours in a way that was both familiar and new, like something he’d craved for so long but never believed he deserved. And for a moment, just a moment, you let yourself fall. Fall into him. Into this. Into the chaos of what the two of you were. When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. Foreheads pressed together. Hands still gripping fabric like you might drift apart if you let go.

His thumb brushed over your cheek, over the tears neither of you had noticed were still falling. “Still think I don’t mean it?” He whispered, voice hoarse and shaking. Your eyes didn’t leave his. Not when he leaned in. Not when his breath ghosted over your lips. Not even when the ache in your chest threatened to cave you in completely. You let the silence stretch between you, thick and intimate before your fingers slipped up the front of his shirt again, tugging him closer. A quiet shrug left your shoulders, a smirk ghosting over your kiss-bitten lips.

“Would it be so bad if I wanted to see you grovel a little bit more?” You murmured, voice low, teasing, but there was no venom in it. Just warmth. A flicker of hope laced in exhaustion. He huffed a soft laugh, the first real one you'd heard from him in what felt like forever, and you felt it, the way it vibrated through his chest, into yours. His nose nudged against yours, slow and tender, grounding you in the closeness. “Nah, baby,” He whispered, voice gravel and saccharine, lips brushing yours again but not quite kissing you.

“Believe me, I intend to do that and a lot more. If you’ll let me.” Your heart clenched, hard. Because you’d never seen him like this. Unarmored. Unfiltered. Saying the things you used to dream about when the nights were long and he was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t asking for permission to make things perfect, he was asking for a chance. A real one. And something in you, despite every bruise, every crack, wanted to believe him. Your fingers slid up, into the short strands of his buzzed hair, your touch soft but unyielding.

“Then don’t just say it,” You breathed, brushing your lips over his again. “Prove it.” This time, the kiss came slower. Deeper. No frenzy. No anger. Just the press of two people trying to fit years of ache into one breath. You felt the way his hands gripped your waist, not possessive, but reverent. Like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers again. Like he wanted to memorize the way you felt, just in case this was all a dream. You pressed into him, and he met you there, without hesitation, without fear, just need. Pure, aching, desperate need.

The kiss deepened quickly, turning from tentative to hungry, from apology to confession. Your mouths moved in sync, familiar and foreign all at once, like muscle memory coming alive after years of being dormant. His hands found your waist again, sliding around your back, fingers splaying across the small of it like he was trying to hold all of you at once, trying to ground himself in the one thing he could never get right but couldn’t bear to let go of. He pulled you closer, your bodies flush now.

His breath shuddering as your fingers tangled in his buzzed hair, scraping lightly at his scalp. He groaned into your mouth, a sound that made your stomach twist and your heart race. You felt his vulnerability in every movement, the way he kissed you like he thought it might be the last time, the way he whispered your name against your lips like a lifeline. You kissed him like every second apart had left a hollow in your chest only he could fill.

And maybe that wasn’t fair, maybe it wasn’t smart, but in that moment, it was real. Your lips slowed eventually, but didn’t break. You lingered there, breathing each other in. He rested his forehead against yours again, and you could feel how hard his heart was beating, you could feel how yours echoing the same chaotic rhythm. “I missed you so much,” He whispered against your mouth, his voice breaking with the weight of it.

“Even when I was being the worst version of myself… I missed you. And now I’m never letting you go. Not again.” You didn’t reply. You just kissed him again, softer this time, slower. But no less sure. And when you pulled back, lips swollen, eyes glassy, hands still clutching his shirt like he might disappear, you realized something. You were kissing the boy who came back, broken, terrified, begging for a second chance, and maybe, just maybe, you were ready to let him try.

Thanks for reading! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! Feeling generous? Leave a tip!

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4rafe · 9 months ago

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rafe cameron

setting down the perfect shade of a baby pink louis vuitton backpack onto rafes messy bed. he had got you a full set of louis vuitton luggage for your birthday just a couple of weeks ago, personalized it with such a beautiful pink and your name embroidered on.

opening your bag, mindlessly going through the couple of pairs of brandy melville pajama sets you packed with you and choosing which one you wanted to wear more. choosing between one and the other was so complicated but when all else fails, you can always rely on the opinion from a man with the name, rafe cameron!

you picked up both sets, making sure the cute design showed perfectly with a huge giggly smile on your face. the sounds of your feet hitting the wood floor as you were walking up to him to ask the big question, "rafey, which one" you smiled big, only your eyes peeking over the pj sets as you held them up for his decision. even though you gave him two options, there was one you 'picked out' in specific. insisting he answer 'correctly' with the tone in your voice.

he turned around to look at you when you called his name following with a question. his eyebrows furrowed from the petty little design that covered the sets of your clothing. raising his pointer finger to choose which set even as the words came out of his mouth, "that one, bunny." he answered as his phone dinged and he pulled it out of his pocket to answer.

you squealed to yourself with a big happy smile on your face, you were ecstatic that he choose the one you wanted him to even though you knew either one would have been just.. fine. you thought to yourself about your silliness to ask whenever you knew what you wanted to wear but it was much better having rafey pick for you.

when he choose, you stood up on your tippy toes as far as you could to reach rafes cheek as he held his phone up to his ear on the other side, giving him a sloppy kiss for his decision before having to come back down as you couldn't stand on them for very long. being in a talking stage with a man who stood at 6'1" came with its many different challenges, romantic ones included but, in all ends, you really liked it.

making your way back to rafes bed where your backpack still laid you heard him mumble something to you. hearing his mumbles made you turn back around, looking at him, "hm?" you questioned. notifying to rafe that you don't know what he had asked of you the first time but now he had your attention.

rafe brought his hand up to chin, rubbing slowly as if he was in a trance of thought, "why do you bring that backpack with you every time you stay, princess?" he had asked of you. you turned around to face him, placing the backpack onto the ground after all decisions were made. "its my spend-the-night bag!" you smiled big at him and giggled in response.

"what the hell is a spend-the-night bag, that's fuckin stupid." he said to you and your smile dropped instantly which was so weird because you knew how rafe was, mean. but he never really meant it "mean" towards you it still doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

he saw as your smile dropped, knowing his words hurt you tremendously. he waved his hand at you, telling you to come to him. he took a seat on the bench that was placed in his room, as you walked towards him. as you stood in front of him, he wrapped his fingers around your thigh, pulling you forward as he guided your legs around his. as you sat down on his lap you let down your head, feeling embarrassed that he saw his words effect you so much. he brought his hand up to your chin, feeling his cold golden rings on your skin, lifting it up so you were looking at his eyes and he started to explain to you,

"bunny.. all im saying is, everyone in this shitty town knows you're mine. there's no need to keep bringing your stuff back and forth. just move all your stuff in with me." hearing his sweet words made a big smile appear on your face again which made rafey smile as well. he made you so happy, it was silly, you were head over heels for him and you wanted everyone to know it.

later that week, you were all moved in. so so in love.

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rafesbows · 5 months ago

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angel!reader riding fratbro!rafe's thigh (*´・з・)

rafe could barely hold back his smirk, watching you grind against his thigh like it was the only thing keeping you alive. you were so fucking needy—wide, glossy eyes staring up at him, lips pouting as little whimpers spilled past them.

“that’s it, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement as his hands rested lazily behind his head. “knew you’d come crawling to me when you needed it.”

your tiny hands clung to his shoulders, your movements desperate and uncoordinated as you chased your high. his gray sweatpants were already soaked through, your slick making a mess of him, but rafe didn’t care. if anything, it only stroked his ego.

“y’really this dumb, huh?” he cooed, tilting his head. “can’t even get yourself off without me?”

you whined, shaking your head, even though you didn’t really know what you were denying. your brain was too fuzzy, too clouded with pleasure to think straight.

rafe chuckled, grabbing your hips to guide you, pressing his thigh up harder against your swollen clit. “s’cute,” he murmured, voice teasing. “c’mon, baby, make a mess for me. show me how bad you need me.”

his words sent you over the edge, your body jerking as pleasure washed over you, a choked sob catching in your throat. rafe watched, drinking it in—your trembling thighs, your pretty little gasps, the way you slumped against his chest, boneless.

his large hand came up, cupping your jaw, forcing your hazy eyes to meet his.

“told you, baby,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your cheek, “you’re always gonna need me.”

@ rafesbows

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abluebirdsseaview · 8 months ago

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All New

Hiiii :))))!!!! I'm trying something new and wanted to create something socia media au's, enjoyyyyyy

Part 2

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Synopsis: actress y/n x Drew Starkey (but that happens later)

Y/n goes through a very public breakup and Drew has never been more obsessed.

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Enews

Liked by 138,997 users

Enews Y/n Y/l/n and Tom Blyth allegedly call it quits after an argument at a bar. Witnesses claim Y/n left the sports bar in tears and friends had to go calm her down.

10k comments

User1 I don't want to believe this

User2 feels like my parents divorce, BUT ITS WORSEEEEEE

User3 now he can finally move onto someone who isn't a gold digger 🙄

> user1 don't pmo... she was famous before they even dated

YourInstagram

Liked by 1,839,006 users

Yourinstagram and friends go to the carribean

10k comments

Yourfriend who needs boys when you can go to a beach

Madelinecline loving the brunette

Gracieabrams SHES FREEEEEEEE

User1 omg she dyed her hair back

User2 missing the blonde 😔

Sabrinacarpenter body is soooo tea in the second pic

Text messages

Mads

Y/nnnnn answerrrrrrrr

Girllll hurryyyy upp

Y/N ANSWER RIGHT NOWWW 👹

You

WHATTTTT

Mads

You will never guess who swiped up on my story repost of you

You

Girl I just got out of a relationship like a month ago 💀

Idk if I can reenter the dating scene

Mads

Okay but would that change if I told u it was Drew and he was asking about you

You

WHAT THE FUCKKKKK

DREW AS IN DREW STARKEYYYYYY

Ik you work with him and shit but he's such a baddie like omlllll

Mads

OK. Sounds like someone is ready to get back to dating if it means it's drew

You

Okay I'm not saying I'm ready to date necessarily

But he is insanely beautiful

Mads

So does that mean I can tell him it isn't weird to follow you on instagram

You

Tell him to go for it

Notifications

Drewstarkey just followed you

----------

Part 2

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loveesiren · 8 months ago

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Baby Daddy (Pt. 2)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

A/n: Here's part two! Let me know if you guys want more to this story :)

Warnings: Birth, emergency c-section, language, fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+

You leaned your head on Rafe's shoulder, his hand rubbing your swollen belly as you were handed yet another gift.

You were grateful for this baby shower that Rose had put together but you couldn't help the fact that you were absolutely exhausted.

You were in no way prepared for how much pregnancy took a toll on your body. Especially in the third trimester.

You held the tiny pink blanket up. The soft fabric was lined with silk and it was absolutely adorable.

"And when you finally tell us her name, we'll get it stitched on there. Along with her birthday." Sarah said with a smile as her and John B watched you examine their gift.

"It's perfect," You say. "And her name will be revealed once she's born." You chuckle.

"I can't believe you're making us wait," John B whines, rolling his eyes.

"She's gonna be here any day now," Rafe smiled, looking down at you. "And this has been great but Y/N really needs to get some rest."

"But there is still more presents!" Rose whines.

"And she will open them later," Rafe scolds. "She's exhausted."

You were practically falling asleep in Rafe's arms.

"Alright, fine," Rose says as she stands up. "For anyone who would like to continue celebrating, join me in the back yard!"

John B and Sarah stay behind, cleaning up the mess of wrapping paper that littered the living room.

"I'm going to take her up to bed," Rafe said as he stood up and pulled you off the couch.

"Rafe, no, too fat." You grumbled as you felt him try to lift you. "I can do it."

"Baby-"

"I can do it!"

John B and Sarah laugh as you fall back on the couch, obviously too tired to move.

Rafe sighs before bending over and scooping you into his arms.

"Rafe, no-"

"Shhhh," He says, picking you up effortlessly. "Uhm, do you guys need me to-"

"Go," Sarah says with a smile. "We got it."

Rafe offers a small smile before carrying you upstairs to the room the two of you shared. Rose had turned the guest room next to Rafe's room into a nursery. The two rooms sat in a part of the house that was mostly cut off from the rest. It was the perfect little corner for the two of you and your baby while you saved up for your own place.

Rafe laid you down on the bed and pulled the covers over the two of you as he crawled in next to you and cradled your belly. "Get some rest, Mama." He said, placing a kiss on your temple.

"Rafe..." You whispered.

"Yes?"

You could feel his fingers trail over your skin. The way he cared for you and was so gentle and excited for your baby, you couldn't wait anymore. You had to tell him.

"I love you." You say as you look up to meet his eyes.

His breath caught in his throat as he registered your words. "W-what?"

You giggled. "I love you, Rafe. You're amazing. And you're going to be an amazing dad. I know we've been doing this whole pregnancy thing in kind of a weird way but I'd kind of like to be a real a fami-"

Rafe pressed his lips to yours, caressing your cheek as he deepened the kiss. "I've been in love with you for so long," He admitted against your lips. "I want all of this. I want us. I want our baby. I want to be a family."

You smiled at his response. He'd changed so much since you found out you were pregnant. He quit coke. He worked hard. He was constantly at your side making sure you had everything you needed. You practically had to pull him off you so you could go check on John B.

You could see his eyes swelling with tears. "What's wrong, baby?" You asked as you cupped his cheek.

"Nothing," He shook his head as a tear fell from his eye. "I just have my dream girl and I get to meet my fucking daughter soon. My life is perfect."

You couldn't help but tear up at his words. You ran your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder. It wasn't long before the two of you drifted off to sleep.

———-

"AHHHHH!" You screamed as you shot up in bed. "Oh my fucking God!"

"What is it baby?!" Rafe asked eagerly as he quickly flipped on the lamp.

"It fucking hurts!" You spit. "Rafe...Rafe I think I'm contracting." You're barely able to get the words out.

"Oh, fuck. Okay!" He yells as he hops out of bed. He opens the door and yells into the hallway. "Dad! Rose!"

"Fuck, FUCK!" You scream.

"Okay, hold on baby, I have your bag." Rafe runs to his closet and pulls out the bag he had packed for you for when the time finally came. "Rose!" He screams again.

"I'm coming! What is it?" She says as her and Ward enter the room. "Oh, okay!"

Rose is by your side instantly, helping you off the bed.

"Ah! I can't-" You say as you fall to the floor. "I can't walk, it hurts so much."

"I got you baby," Rafe says, once again scooping you into his arms with minimal effort.

"Ward, start the car!" Rose commands as she grabs your bag and you all head downstairs.

Rafe climbs into the back seat with you. You dig your nails into his arm as another contraction invades your body.

"It's okay, sweet girl." Rafe says as he presses his lips to your forehead. "Just breathe with me, okay?" He holds your swollen belly up, relieving some of the pressure so you're able to catch your breath.

You can feel the car speeding to the hospital. You can hear Ward and Rose arguing in the front seat. You can feel Rafe wrapped around you, whispering sweetly into your ear. But you couldn't help the black haze that was washing over your vision as you lost consciousness.

"Hey, hey!" Rafe said as he lightly tapped your cheek. "Y/N, baby, stay with me!"

"We're almost there!" Ward says.

"She's unconscious!" Rafe screams.

_____________

Your eyes fluttered open. It was almost painful to keep your eyelids up.

Large windows lined the room, letting in the sunrise. Purple skies as the sun made it's way into view.

You felt so confused. You placed a hand on your belly. No bump. You instantly shot up, panicking at your missing baby bump you had grown so used to.

"Rafe!" You screamed.

"Hey, hey!" Rafe said as he came out of the bathroom, bouncing a tiny human in his arms. "Calm down baby, I'm here. We're here." He smiles as he sits on the bed next to you.

"Is that...is that my daughter?" You ask, taking in her tiny features. She had Rafe's eyes and your lips. A perfect mix of the two of you.

Rafe smiles, moving to place her in your arms. "You did so good, mama."

You hold her gently, tears filling your eyes as she instantly looked for your nipple. You happily fed her, gushing over the fact she knew you were her mother.

"I-I don't even remember."

"It was complicated," Rafe begins, rubbing one hand over your leg and one over her tiny head. "Emergency c-section. Thought I was gonna lose you. But you were so strong."

You couldn't help but cry. A tear falling on your child's cheek but Rafe brushed it away.

"She's been so fussy until now. She doesn't like the bottle." Rafe chuckles.

"How long have a been out?"

"Two days,"

You shudder, realizing you missed the first two days of your child's life.

Rafe pulls himself up to sit behind you. You lean back against his chest as you continue to feed your child. He runs his fingers up and down your arms and places kisses on your temples.

"I love you so much," He whispers.

"I love you too," You said as you felt yourself drift back to sleep. Rafe brought his arms around you to help hold your baby as she finished nursing.

When you woke up again the sun was setting. Rafe was draped over you, snoring softly. Your daughter in a bassinet beside you, sleeping peacefully.

You heard a knock at the door. Rafe shot up, rubbing his eyes as he tried to process what was going on.

"Hmmm, okay." He said, half asleep as he stumbled towards the door.

You felt bad. You knew he'd been doing all of this on his own while you were out. He needed sleep.

"Hey," Rafe said as your family members piled in. You were grateful for the large room.

Rose and Wheezie carried flowers and gifts, placing them on the dresser by the window. Ward followed behind them.

John B and Sarah came in after them with balloons, setting them to the side as they quickly ran to see your baby.

"Jesus," Rafe grumbled as he laid back down beside you. "M' sorry baby. They wouldn't let anyone but me in until today."

You pet his hair and place a kiss on his head as he rests against your shoulder. "It's okay, babe."

You were wide awake now. Rafe tried his best to sit up and interact but you could tell he wasn't going to last long.

John B held your baby as everyone else crowded around him. She was smiling up at him and it made your heart melt.

"So," Sarah asked. "What's her name?"

You turned to Rafe and smiled. He smiled and rubbed his eyes. "Her name is Juliette Lilith Cameron." He announced.

All the girls gushed over the name. John B smiled down at his niece, bouncing her happily.

Ward came around the side of the bed and placed a hand on Rafe's shoulder. "Congratulations, son. You're going to be a great father."

Rafe smiles at his dads words. "Thanks, dad." He gushes. You can't help but tear up. You knew how much Rafe wanted his dad to be proud of him.

After everyone had a turn holding Juliette, Rafe finally ushered them all out, claiming you and baby needed your rest. But in all honesty, you and Juliette were fine. Rafe was the one that needed a break.

After you nursed Juliette and laid her down to sleep, you and Rafe snuggled in your hospital bed, eating mediocre hospital food and watching Family Feud.

"Can I get you anything, baby?" Rafe mumbled against your shoulder, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"Get some sleep, my love." You whisper, placing a kiss on his head.

"Gotta take care of my girls first," He mumbles.

"We're good," You promise him. "We need you to be well rested."

Rafe hums into your skin, wrapping his arm tighter around you but not tight enough to hurt you since you were still healing.

"Love my girls," Was the last thing he said before he drifted off to sleep.

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #drew starkey #obx fandom #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx pogues

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goldfades · 9 months ago

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NOT SCARED──RAFE CAMERON

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

for this request

─ summary | during an argument, you accidentally flinch.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x fem!reader

─ warnings | kinda angsty, but it softens into something fluffy and sweet. could be interpreted as ptsd?, rafe being angry, nothing else really!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

The room feels smaller than usual. The air, heavy with tension, presses in from all sides, thick and humid, like the heat outside the windows you forgot to crack open.

Rafe stands across from you, his face flushed—partly from the Carolina sun, partly from the argument that spiraled faster than either of you meant for it to. His eyes, usually such a cool shade of blue, burn as they lock onto yours. He was complaining about something Sarah had said offhandedly, and you couldn't bring yourself to answer. You weren't even sure what he was saying anymore. Something about how she was an ungrateful little brat?

“Are you even listening to me?” His voice cuts through the stillness, sharp and rough.

Your chest tightens, the weight of it pressing harder with each word. You stand there, rooted in place, trying to keep your composure. You want to yell back—God, you want to—but your words are caught somewhere deep in your throat, tangled in the knot of emotions you’ve been trying to hold back for what feels like hours.

And then it happens.

Rafe’s hand jerks up, a frustrated gesture, fingers raking through his hair. But you don’t see it as that—not right away. The movement is quick, too quick, and instinct takes over before you can think. Your body reacts.

You flinch.

It’s small, a barely-there movement, but in that moment, it feels seismic. Time freezes. You see the flicker of confusion cross his face, the instant shift from anger to something else—something unreadable, something that twists your stomach in knots.

The silence that follows is deafening.

The air between you both seems to collapse in on itself, heavy and suffocating, as if the room is holding its breath, waiting for what comes next. Rafe’s eyes, sharp and cutting just seconds ago, soften in a way that makes your heart stutter. You see it—the realization. The moment it hits him.

His arm lowers slowly, his fingers uncurling from where they had been tangled in his hair. There’s a flicker of guilt, maybe even hurt, in his gaze now, but he doesn’t move toward you. Not yet. He stands frozen in place, as if he’s afraid to take another step, afraid that the space between you will shatter entirely if he does.

“What the hell was that?” His voice is softer now, but there’s something raw underneath it, something that makes your chest tighten even more.

You bite down on your lip, trying to will the tremble in your hands to stop. You don’t answer right away because, honestly, you’re not sure what to say. You didn’t mean to flinch. You know Rafe would never hurt you, not like that. But it happened, and now the weight of it hangs in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst.

"I—" Your voice cracks, barely a whisper. You want to explain it away, brush it off like it’s nothing, but the words feel too fragile to stand on.

Rafe shifts his weight, his eyes flicking to the floor before they settle back on you. The tension in his shoulders hasn’t quite eased, but there’s something else there now. Vulnerability, maybe. Uncertainty.

“I wasn’t gonna—” he stops, as if the words are too heavy to finish. “You know that, right?”

You nod quickly, too quickly, because you do know. But it doesn’t change what just happened. It doesn’t erase the way your body betrayed you, reacting out of fear instead of logic, making this moment real in a way that feels unbearable.

“I didn’t mean to...” you manage, your voice small, cracking under the weight of the silence.

Your words feel hollow, barely filling the thick air between you. Rafe’s gaze lingers on you, searching for something—reassurance, maybe? Forgiveness? You’re not sure. But there’s a look in his eyes that you don’t quite recognize. Vulnerability has never been his strong suit, and seeing it now, raw and exposed, makes your stomach churn.

The seconds stretch out painfully long, the silence between you both growing louder, pressing in like a suffocating blanket. Every breath feels labored, as though the very walls of the room are closing in, shrinking with the weight of what just happened. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, fast and uneven, like it’s trying to outrun the awkwardness that’s settled between you.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rafe says, his voice soft but frayed at the edges. It’s like he’s unraveling right in front of you, piece by piece, and all you can do is stand there, clutching onto whatever is left of your composure.

You know he means it. You know. He would never intentionally hurt you, not physically, not in that way. But the tension from the argument, the way his hand moved so quickly, too quickly—it just triggered something deep inside you, something instinctual and uncontrollable. And now, that flinch, that split-second of fear, hangs between you like a permanent scar neither of you know how to heal.

“I didn’t mean it,” you repeat, almost like a mantra, willing the words to erase the moment. But even as you say it, your hands are still trembling, and your heart hasn’t quite settled in your chest. You feel the need to explain, to fix the mess that’s rapidly spiraling out of control. “It wasn’t you, Rafe. It’s just—”

You stop, your throat tightening as you struggle to find the right words. How do you explain something like that? How do you tell him that sometimes your body reacts before your mind can catch up, that sometimes fear sneaks in where it doesn’t belong, uninvited and unrelenting?

Rafe’s brow furrows, and he takes a small, cautious step toward you, as if testing the waters. His movements are slow, deliberate, like he’s afraid of making it worse, of pushing you further away.

“Hey…” he starts, voice softer now, almost tentative. His eyes, still locked on yours, carry a weight that makes your chest tighten. He takes another step, closer this time, closing some of the distance, but there’s still a carefulness to him, like he’s afraid to breach the invisible barrier that’s suddenly formed between you. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

But you want to. You need to. You need him to understand that it wasn’t his fault, that it was just the heat of the moment, the adrenaline from the argument twisting your reactions into something they weren’t supposed to be. You shake your head, trying to string together something coherent, something that will ease the hurt that’s settled in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to flinch,” you whisper, voice cracking under the strain of your emotions. “I just… it was reflex, okay? It wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything.”

Rafe stops just a foot away from you now, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him but not close enough to touch. His hand twitches at his side, like he’s debating whether or not to reach for you. His jaw is clenched, his lips pressed into a tight line, and for a moment, he just stands there, studying you, his blue eyes clouded with a mixture of confusion, guilt, and something you can’t quite place.

“You sure about that?” His voice is barely above a whisper now, rough and strained, as if he’s holding himself together by a thread. “Because it didn’t look like nothing.”

The hurt in his tone makes your heart ache. You want to reach out, to touch him, to tell him that it really is nothing, that you’re fine, that he’s fine. But there’s a knot in your chest that refuses to loosen, tightening with every passing second.

“I’m sure,” you say, and though you try to make your voice sound steady, it wavers, betraying you. “Rafe, I know you. I know you’d never—”

“I wouldn’t,” he interrupts, his voice thick with emotion. He finally reaches out, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before it finds your arm, gently, so gently, as if he’s afraid you’ll break under his touch. His fingers wrap around your wrist, warm and steady, grounding you in the moment. “I’d never… you know that, right?”

The softness in his touch contrasts so sharply with the tension from earlier that it nearly breaks you. His thumb rubs slow, gentle circles against your skin, and for a moment, you allow yourself to close your eyes and breathe, just breathe, focusing on the steady rhythm of his hand, the warmth seeping into you.

“I know,” you whisper, opening your eyes to meet his. “I know, Rafe. It was just—”

“Instinct?” he finishes for you, his voice quiet but understanding, like he’s trying to piece together the puzzle himself. He lets out a small, shaky breath, and you can see the frustration simmering beneath the surface, not at you, but at himself. “I just hate that I made you feel like that. I hate that you even thought for a second…” He trails off, jaw tightening again, as if the words themselves are too painful to finish.

You can feel the weight of his guilt, the way it clings to him like a shadow, and you hate it. You hate that this argument—something so stupid and trivial—escalated into something that neither of you meant for it to. You hate that your body betrayed you like that, that it made Rafe question himself, question the way he loves you, the way he would never hurt you.

“I’m not scared of you,” you say, firmer this time, willing him to believe you, to really believe you. “I’m not.”

Rafe swallows hard, his hand still wrapped around your wrist, but his grip is loose, hesitant, like he’s waiting for you to pull away. But you don’t. You step closer instead, closing the last bit of distance between you, your free hand reaching up to cup the side of his face.

His skin is warm under your touch, and you can feel the tension in his jaw, the way his muscles are still tight with emotion. His eyes flutter shut for a moment, like he’s savoring the comfort, the reassurance, but when he opens them again, there’s something deeper there—something that makes your breath catch.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” you whisper, your thumb brushing lightly across his cheek. The weight of the argument, of everything unsaid between you, feels so heavy now, and all you want is to push past it, to move forward, to fix the crack that’s formed in the foundation of what you have with him. “I’m sorry for—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Rafe cuts in gently, his voice barely above a murmur. He leans into your touch, his hand tightening ever so slightly around your wrist. “I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. The storm of emotions between you slowly starts to settle, replaced by a tentative calm. The argument still lingers in the air, but it feels distant now, like something neither of you want to revisit. You can still feel the weight of what just happened, but standing here with him, close enough to feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you know you’ll both be okay.

You always are.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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marriedtotheblunt · 1 month ago

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this drew starkey account is a safe space for odessa fans. i won’t tolerate the hate for a woman because yall want a man twice your age. she’s fine as lord, good at acting and singing and yall know it.

#marriedtotheblunt #odessa a’zion #drew starkey #bisexual #obx fandom #joey del marco #grand army

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lindsaynathi0n · 9 months ago

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NDA: ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE!!

“Batman & Catwoman” (special Halloween)

+18

“No, Rafe, I’m not coming out of the bathroom!” you shout, as Rafe throws himself back onto his bed and sighs loudly.

“Y/N, it’s Halloween, you’re not really going to leave me hanging, are you?” says Rafe.

Tonight, Topper is throwing a Halloween party. Rafe had the brilliant idea for you both to dress up as Batman and Catwoman.

The problem is, when Rafe ordered the costumes, he got the wrong size and picked one a size too small.

You and Rafe haven’t been dating for long, and you’ve always been quite reserved and conservative, compared to Rafe, who has always been straightforward and doesn’t mind showing off his body.

“No judgment?…” you say in a small voice.

Rafe props himself up on his elbows and nods, even though you can’t see him. “I promise, baby,” he says, sitting up.

You open the door and slowly lift your head.

The latex costume clings to your curves, highlighting your body, with your breasts spilling out of the neckline, and the fur details making the outfit WAY too sexy for your taste. The leather boots complete the look, and the cat mask makes you unbearably irresistible.

Rafe's gaze darkens, and you shiver slightly as goosebumps spread over your body

"I'm just going to put on a dr-" Rafe suddenly stands up and quickly walks toward you, grabbing you by the waist and starting to kiss you passionately.

He’s rough and so intense that you struggle to keep up with his pace. He pulls down the zipper of your costume and smiles when he sees one of the thongs he bought you.

He had regretted it, thinking you wouldn’t wear it because of your extremely shy nature.

"My pretty girl wore a thong for her Batman?" You say nothing, your cheeks red like a tomato. "I'll take that as a yes."

He grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, making you laugh like a child, and then he gives you a playful smack.

He pins you to the bed, placing your hands above your head. "Ma'am, you're under arrest," says Rafe as he holds you down on the bed.

"Why?.." you whisper, spreading your legs a little wider. He grabs a belt lying nearby and ties your wrists to the bed.

“For being too hot.” He puts your legs on his shoulders and then puts his head between your thighs.

your excitement flows, he looks at you before passing his tongue between your folds. "Mine." He says, causing your whole body to vibrate.

He begins to lick your folds, his tongue making a few back-and-forth motions between your hole and your clitoris. He catches your clitoris between his teeth and gently tugs on it.

You squirm with pleasure, moaning as he touches you. "If I had known you would react like this, I would have already fuck with you a long time ago."

He continues to tease your throbbing bud with his expert tongue, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick, little flicks. His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he devours your core like a man starved.

As he continues his sensual assault, your moans grow louder, your body trembling with building pleasure. He slides a finger inside your tight heat, curling it just right to hit that special spot within. His tongue never stops its delicious torment of your clit as he finger-fucks you with increasing speed and intensity.

You feel tears streaming down your cheeks. His finger is enormous - more than twice the size of your own, and you're not sure how it fit inside you. The stretch burns, but it feels so good you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop.

As he adds a second, then a third thick, your breath hitches. You can feel your body stretching to accommodate his size, the pressure intense yet exhilarating.

"I'm going to come, Rafe!" you moan through your tears. His response is a guttural growl, and he doubles his efforts, fingering you hard and fast as his mouth latches onto your peaked bud.

Your vision starts to blur as the overwhelming sensation threatens to consume you.

“Ah- Rafe I-!“ Your words are cut off by a scream as your orgasm hits, your entire body shaking violently as you clamp down on his fingers.

Rafe buries his face in your pussy, muffling his own groan of pleasure as he feels your inner walls spasming around his fingers.

Rafe lifts his head and chuckles before pressing his fingers, soaked with your juices, to your lips. "Open up," he murmurs, and you part your lips, tasting yourself on him as he slides his fingers into your mouth. He kisses you, sharing the taste of your passion.

"I love you, my naughty girl," he whispers, pulling his fingers from your mouth and replacing them with his tongue, cleaning you off as he holds you close. "And I'm far from done with you yet." He nuzzles your neck before biting down on your earlobe.

“And what about Topper’s party?” you laugh, and Rafe grumbles. “Who cares? I just want to be inside you,” he says, releasing your wrists so you can hug him.

MY REQUEST ARE WILD OPEN 🥰🥰

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uniicorns-arereall · 5 months ago

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are you guys ever reading some absolutely FILTHY smut and you just think to yourself:

like why are we bringing crazy plot points into this… and why do i kinda like it ?? JK JK

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greengoblinswifey · 9 months ago

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Show me- Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

warnings: jealous!reader, 69, possessive rafe, unprotected sex, degrading kink, praise kink, rough sex, face slapping, choking, rafe is a sweetheart at the end, s4 ep 3 spoiler kinda.

A part of you was glad Rafe was wary of the cougar. The cougar— she wasn’t that important for you to memorize her name. She was getting too close to your “man” or whatever you and Rafe were. It didn’t matter, he was yours and you were wary of her the moment you met her couple nights ago.

“I don’t trust her,” you add.

“Oh yeah? I think you’re a little jealous,” Rafe saw right through you.

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, jealous.”

“No.” Your faces are inches away from each other and your eyes dart down to his lips.

“Cougar on the prowl?” he replied, playfully taunting you and you giggle. “I’m not an idiot, they think I’m an idiot but, they’ll see how Camerons do business.”

“Show me,” you reply. He felt your breath against his lips as your brown eyes stare into his.

“Show you what princess?”

“Show me how you do business.”

Rafe’s eyes darken as he grabs you by the waist, pulling you against him with a force that takes your breath away. His lips crash against yours, all hunger and heat, the taste of him overwhelming. His hand snakes up to your throat, wrapping firmly around it, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your pulse quicken, sending a jolt of excitement down your spine.

The kiss is wild, desperate, teeth clashing, tongues tangling as he dominates every inch of your mouth. You can’t help but grind your hips against his bulge, feeling the hardness pressing against you. A moan escapes your lips, and you push against him, needing more, needing him closer.

But Rafe pulls back slightly, his lips hovering just above yours as he growls, “Calm down, you needy little slut.”

His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make your breath hitch, and he smirks, his voice low and rough. “You jealous of some old bitch? You think I’d want anyone but you?” His eyes are burning with possessiveness now, and you can feel his cock twitch beneath your grinding. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, show you exactly who this cock belongs to.”

His words send a shiver through you, and you gasp as he pushes you back into the outdoor chair, the cool fabric brushing against your heated skin. “Spread your legs,” he commands, voice dripping with dominance. You obey instantly, feeling the anticipation coil tightly in your belly.

He kneels in front of you, hands pushing your thighs apart as his breath ghosts over your aching core. “You’re mine,” he growls before diving in, his tongue lapping at your folds, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. His grip on your hips is rough, holding you in place as you try to squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his mouth. He’s devouring you like a man starved, his tongue flicking, teasing, sucking until your mind is spinning.

“And I’m yours,” he adds.

You whimper, your hands fisting in the little hair he has, trying to pull him closer, needing more. He chuckles darkly against your skin, pulling back just enough to look up at you with a wicked grin. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet,” he says, his voice dripping with promise.

Rafe stands, grabbing your hand and yanking you up, pulling you into the house and straight to the bedroom. He throws you down onto the bed, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of lust and control. “Now, I’m gonna show you,” he murmurs, climbing onto the bed beside you, his body pressing against yours.

He pulls you into position, straddling his face while his cock hovers above your lips. “We’re gonna 69, baby,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “And I’m gonna remind you who you belong to.”

Without another word, his mouth is on you again, tongue plunging into your folds, while his thick cock presses against your lips, begging for your attention. You take him into your mouth, feeling him swell against your tongue as you moan around him, lost in the shared rhythm of pleasure, both of you pushing each other closer to the edge.

Rafe's deep moans vibrate against your core as you both lose yourselves in the intensity. His tongue is relentless, flicking against your clit with just the right amount of pressure, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. His thick cock is heavy in your mouth, and as you hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, you hear his breath hitch, a throaty moan escaping his lips.

Between your legs, Rafe pulls back just slightly, voice husky as he asks, “You like how I do business, baby?”

Your eyes flutter as you hum around him, the vibrations of your answer sending shivers down his spine. “Yes, sir,” you manage to gasp between moans before he thrusts into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your mouth stretches wide to accommodate him as you struggle to take more, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the fullness.

Suddenly, Rafe’s mouth is back on your pussy, ravishing you with a ferocity that has you gasping. His tongue works its magic, swirling, sucking, licking until you’re a trembling mess above him. Without warning, the tension snaps, and you squirt all over his face, your body convulsing in overwhelming pleasure as his tongue laps it all up.

“Ride me, bitch,” he growls, voice thick with lust. “Show me that you know I’m yours and make me cum.”

You don’t hesitate. Climbing off him, you position yourself over his cock, feeling the slick heat of your arousal as you sink down onto him. The stretch is intense, and you cry out, your body trembling as you take him deeper, every inch filling you to the brim. Your pace is wild, desperate, and you scream out as his cock hits that perfect spot deep inside you.

Rafe’s hand wraps around your throat, his grip firm but teasing, cutting off your breath just enough to make your head spin. Your curly hair bounces with each thrust and he reaches up, tangling his fingers in your coils, tugging your head down to make you look at him. His eyes are locked on yours, dark and possessive, as he forces you to glance down at your own stomach, the bulge in your belly where his thick cock is buried deep inside you.

“Look at that,” he groans, voice thick with pride. “Look how deep I am in you.”

The sight is enough to send you over the edge again. Your body shudders, your legs quaking as you scream his name, cumming hard all over his cock. Your moans are broken, breathless, as you ride out the intense pleasure, gripping his arms for support as your body melts against him.

Rafe’s grip on your throat tightens just enough to remind you who’s in control, his own groans mixing with yours as he holds you there, feeling every wave of pleasure ripple through you.

Rafe's palm cracks against your cheek, the sting of the slap sending a jolt through your body. He doesn’t give you time to recover before he shoves you roughly onto your back, his hand immediately gripping your throat as he slams into you, the force of his thrusts making the bed creak beneath you. His eyes are dark, possessive, and he’s chasing his own release, fucking you so hard you can barely breathe.

“You’re my bitch,” he growls, his lips brushing against your ear. “My good girl, my baby, my princess.” Each word is punctuated by a rough thrust that leaves you gasping, your body arching up into him as you cling to the edge of another orgasm. “I’m your daddy, no one has me like you do, no one will ever have me the way you do, no one does it for me like you.”

Tears spill down your cheeks as you cry out, the intensity of his words and the rhythm of his hips pushing you over the edge again. You scream, your entire body trembling as you cum, muscles contracting around him, gripping him tight. But Rafe isn’t done. He fucks you even harder, his hips snapping against yours with brutal precision as you whimper beneath him. Another slap to your face makes your head spin, and just as he’s on the verge of release, he pulls out, his breath ragged and heavy.

With a guttural groan, Rafe pumps his cock, cumming all over your mouth and tits. The warmth of his seed covers you, and before you can catch your breath, he grabs your coils, forcing your head down toward your own chest. His grip is firm but not painful, and you follow his lead, your tongue flicking out to lick up his cum from your perky breasts, swallowing every drop as it mixes with what’s already in your mouth.

“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, voice low and rough.

You obey, and his semi-hard dick slaps against your cheek as he chuckles darkly. “That’s my good little bitch,” he whispers, his hand still tangled in your hair. “That’s my good girl.”

When he’s satisfied, he pulls back, the intense dominance fading as he lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms for a brief moment of tenderness. The warmth of his body presses against yours as you both catch your breath. After a moment, Rafe slips out of bed and grabs a towel, cleaning you up gently as if his roughness never happened. He moves with care, wiping the cum from your skin while you watch him, your chest still heaving from the intensity of it all.

As he pulls on his shirt, you sit up, adjusting your bonnet over your curly hair, still watching him in silence. He catches your gaze, his expression softening in a way you’ve never seen before. Moving closer, Rafe leans in, whispering in your ear so quietly that you almost miss it.

“I love you.”

The words shock you, leaving you frozen as he stands up, offering a smile before walking away, leaving you to process everything he just said.

A/N- Love me some Rafe, requests are open for him, JJ, and Pope.

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cherrysinner · 2 months ago

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─── YOU'VE GOT MAIL .ᐟ

...or him seeing you with someone else.

★ pairing.ᐟ frat!rafe x nerd!reader

★ summary.ᐟ rafe cameron is the golden boy of kildare university; certified frat boy, captain of the football team, relentless party animal with lines of girls to sleep with.

reader couldn't be more different; while she has the best grades in the whole school, she suffers from social anxiety disorder, and her social life is limited to her three best friends and the cat she secretly snuck into her dorm room.

both of them decide to join the anonymous chatroom for their campus, and start talking to one another, a friendship starting to form between the two; but neither of them know how different the other is.

★ author's note.ᐟ i might be posting another chapter in a few days hehe,,, i've been thinking about making a post about the kind of outfits this reader wears, lmk if you'd be interested!!

YOU'VE GOT MAIL!

YOU: you there? sent at 10am YOU: i miss talking to you. sent at 1pm YOU: i'm booooreeeed :( sent at 4pm YOU: sorry if i'm bothering you :) sent at 6pm YOU: sry i'll stop now!!! sent at 8pm YOU: i miss you... sent two minutes ago YOU: sorryyy, im a bit tips. sent now

you frowned as you looked down at your phone. everything felt like shit. emilia was off to talk with rafe, and you could see vivian making out with topper, the boy's back pressed against the tree, everyone else having someone to talk to, or even be in the presence of. everyone except for you, and the pitiful plastic cup that consisted of 75% vodka, 10% of some random punch and 15% of diet coke in your hand.

"am i pathetic?" you asked the fire blazing in front of you, taking a long chug from your mug. you already knew the answer. the guy you possibly liked was ignoring you, meanwhile everyone else was shoving their tongues down each other's throats. it felt like you were the only person in the universe.

"probably." a voice appeared next to you, nearly making you choke on your drink. you looked to your left side as you coughed, trying to get rid of the itch in your throat, seeing that someone had pulled up a chair right next to yours, making your eyes widen.

"who-" you coughed, "are you?" you held your breath, hoping that it'd help, only for the boy to bend you forward slightly, slapping your back a few times, "breathe in." he commanded, and you did so, "breathe out."

after a few more times of doing that, you started to feel slightly better, able to finally speak without having to cough. "thanks..." you said softly, "uh, who are you?"

"i'm dodge." the dark-haired boy flashed you a smile, "can i ask you, what's your name, and why do you think you're pathetic?"

you told him your name, taking a moment to think of an answer to his second question, "well... all of my friends have someone they're with right now. one of my friends is with a guy she swears she hates but ends up getting with all the time, and another is with a guy who i'm pretty sure has a crush on her."

"then just go and mingle." the dark-haired boy shrugged, like talking to people was the easiest thing in the world. for a lot of people, it was. not you. "drunk people love socializing. someone would probably be willing to listen their ear off about… the history of cars, or something."

"i'm terrible at it. i swear, i'd accidentally end up offending them in some way." you shook your head, "i have pretty bad anxiety. i see a large group of people and it's like... i stop functioning." "you're in a large group of people right now. look around." you did as dodge said, chuckling as you looked around the clearing. you were surrounded by people. couples making out, people hanging out in groups, people by the fire... yet you didn't feel as anxious as you always do.

"i take beta blockers, and since alcohol is a depressant, it relieves my anxiety and lowers my inhibitions, meaning-" "-that you'll feel good after a few drinks but if you keep drinking more, you'll start to go down and eventually feel like crap." the boy finishes your sentence for you, and you cock your head to the side with a slight smile, "you're a lot smarter than most frat boys."

"and you're a lot smarter than most pathetic people." "i take it back," you nudge dodge to his side, "you're awful." "i think you like it." he grinned. "only because my inhibitions are lowered by alcohol." you rolled your eyes, "but tomorrow i'm gonna have the worst case of hangxiety and avoid you like the plague." "you're a cruel woman."

you laughed, shaking your head and looking to the fire, taking an absentminded sip of your drink, "y'know, people tell me that i'm smart, but for some reason, i've never really been able to figure out why i feel different than others." "well, how are you different?" "to the people around me… it seems to come so easily to just talk to people. to connect with someone. but i feel like i can't connect to people at all."

"i mean, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses." the boy shrugged, "you're bad at socializing but i bet you're good at other things." "well, there's one thing i can tell you're not good at, dodge." "oh yeah? what's that?" the boy raised his brows in amusement, "pep talks."

MEANWHILE...

emilia sat down onto the chair next to rafe's, handing him a beer while taking a sip of her own. she leaned back on her chair, tsk'ing, "so, uh, why'd you wanna talk to me?" "oh." rafe chuckled under his breath, turning to her, "you just seem like a cool girl. a cool person."

"oh. thanks." emilia said with a tight smile, taking a long swig of her beer, "so, what are you into?" "mostly football and partying." he chuckled, "i do read sometimes, but don't go around telling that to people 'cause i'm probably gonna get shit on."

"i wont." emilia chuckled softly, "but one of my friends recommended this one bookstore to me. i can send you the address if you give me your number or your snapchat or kildareuchats user."

rafe tsked, "i would, but... i pretty much fucked up my phone this morning." "what? how? you drop it into the toilet or something?" emilia chuckled. "no, no." rafe shook his head humorously, "i fell into the water and didn't even realize it was in my pocket... it was a whole thing. now my phone is sitting in a bowl of rice."

"let's hope for the best." emilia chuckled, stretching her arms over her head, and that was when rafe noticed the logo on emilia's shirt, narrowing his eyes as he thought back to the list of music AnnabelLee had recommended.

fleetwood mac - rhiannon

"fleetwood mac." rafe said quietly, "what?" emilia asked, "fleetwood mac. on your shirt." the boy gestured to the cut-up shirt she was wearing, making emilia laugh, "oh, yeah. i borrowed it from my friend who's a big fan of them. i like them too, but she's obsessed with them. especially stevie nicks."

"who's your friend...?"

"oh, she's here with us." emilia says, looking around, until she finally spots you. and then rafe spots you, talking to another guy, a smile on your face and your body practically pressed against his side. you threw your head back in laughter, before focusing back on the boy you were with, leaning close to him. rafe tries to focus on emilia; AnnabelLee, the girl he's somehow fallen for without seeing her face or talking to her in person... but for some reason, he feels his his gut twisting whenever he thinks about the girl he'd talked to twice, a girl who pretty much got him thrown into a lake talking to another guy. flirting with another guy.

"can i... can i ask you a question?" rafe cleared his throat, "it might be a weird." "yeah, go ahead." emilia smiled, "does your friend have a cat?"

rafe's question made emilia chuckle, "that is a weird question." she stated, "but yeah, she does." emilia smiled at rafe, "her name is angel. she's white, but she has heterochromia. one of her eyes is blue and the other is green."

rafe's face went pale. white cat with one blue eye and one green eye... his mind went back to the one night when he'd gotten drunk and he'd asked you what the cat you'd told him lives with you in your dorm looked like.

she's white, fluffy and has one blue eye and one green eye. she's also a pain in the ass, but i still love her. when the puzzle pieces finally fell into position, rafe's head turned to where you'd been in record time.

only to find that you were no longer there.

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