#drew starkey romance

[starkeyslibrary]

That's So True

Inspired by That's so True by Gracie Abrams

pairing: reader x drew starkey

a/n: i just realized that i've never formally introduced myself on here! my bad, my name is rhodee, 21 years old, living in europe and currently studying law. i love writing imagines that'll hopefully make you laugh, swoon or cry (sorry not sorry) a little too hard <3

stick around if you’re into dreamy characters, plot twists, or just want to scream about Drew with me!

hope i'll get to know so many of y'all on here!! okay that's all, enjoy <3

The night Drew had left for the premiere, you told yourself it was just another event, like all the others. You even tried to convince yourself you didn't mind staying home, avoiding the chaos of the red carpet. It's his night, you thought, forcing a smile as he kissed you goodbye, his cologne lingering in the air long after the door closed.

But as the hours stretched on, the gnawing sense of isolation grew. It wasn't just tonight - it had been building for months. Drew's career was skyrocketing, and with every interview, press tour and glamorous event, it felt like he was slipping further away from you. He'd promised that things would calm down after this movie, that he'd have more time. But those promises were always vague, like a finish line that kept moving further out of reach.

The photos hit social media just before midnight. Drew, looking devastatingly handsome in his suit, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his co-star, Odessa A’ Zion. The fan comments flooded in, gushing about how perfect they looked together, how the chemistry was undeniable.

You slammed your laptop shut. It wasn't jealousy - not exactly. You trusted him, but trust didn't erase the ache of feeling invisible.

The sound of Drew's keys jingling at the door pulled you from your spiralling thoughts. The clock on the wall read 1:47 a.m. You hadn't realized how late it had gotten. The door opened, and Drew stepped inside, his movements slow and careful, like he didn't want to disturb you. He probably thought you were asleep.

"Hey," you called out, your voice sharp in the quiet apartment. You couldn't hide the edge of frustration.

He paused, caught off guard, then gave a tired smile. "Hey, babe. Didn't think you'd still be up."

"Well, I am," you said, standing from the couch. "Thought you said you'd be home hours ago."

"The afterparty ran late," he explained, shrugging off his jacket. "I texted you."

"That's not the point, Drew," you snapped, your tone harsher than you intended. “This isn’t just about tonight. Do you even realize how little I see you anymore?”

His brows furrowed, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s my job, you know how crazy things get during press tour. This isn’t new.”

“That doesn’t make it easier,” you shot back. “You’re always out there, Drew. With her, with them – whoever. And I’m just .... here. Alone. Waiting for whatever scraps of time you have left.”

Drew exhaled sharply, clearly tired, and not in the mood for an argument. “This again?” he muttered, his tone clipped. “I can’t keep apologizing for doing my job.”

You flinched at his words. “I’m not asking you to apologize for working. I’m asking you to make me feel like I matter.”

“You do matter,” he said, raising his voice slightly. “But you’re acting like I can just drop everything. This is how it is y/n. This is how it’s always been.”

“No, it hasn’t,” you countered. “It’s different now. You’re different. You barely talk to me anymore. Half the time, I don’t even know what’s going on in your life. But everyone else does. The fans, the press – they all get pieces of you that I don’t.”

“That’s not true,” Drew said, shaking his head. “You’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t see how lonely this is for me. You’re so caught up in your world that you don’t even notice.”

Drew’s frustration boiled over. “What do you want me to do, y/n? Quit? Stop taking jobs? Would that make you happy?”

His words felt like a slap, and the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over. “I want you to fight for this – for us. But instead, you’re treating me like a burden.”

Drew froze, his anger dissipating as he saw the pain in your expression. “Y/N,” he started, his tone softer, “You’re not a burden. I love you. You know that.”

“Do I?” you whispered. “Because it doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Drew looked at you, his face a mix of regret and helplessness. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t say anything,” you said, retreating to the bedroom before your emotions could completely overwhelm you.

You shut the door behind you, leaning against it as sobs wracked your body. You hated this – hated feeling like you were losing him. But you didn’t know how to bridge the growing distance between you.

Drew stood in the living room, staring at the closed door. He felt like the worst person in the world. He wanted to fix it; to make you understand how much you meant to him. But he was so tired – tired of the constant pull between his career and personal life, tired of feeling like he was failing at both.

He sat on the couch, his head in his hands. The apartment felt unbearably quiet without you. The fight replayed in his mind, your words cutting deeper with each pass. I want you to fight for this – for us.

He realized then how distant he’d been, how much he’d taken your support for granted. You’d been his anchor through everything, and he’d been too caught up in his own world to see how much you were struggling.

When you woke up, the sun was streaming through the curtains, but the weight in your chest hadn’t lifted. You found Drew in the kitchen, already dressed and nursing a cup of coffee. His face lit up when he saw you, but it quickly fell when he noticed your guarded expression.

“Morning,” he said softly, hesitant.

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

“I, uh, I thought about what you said last night,” he began, setting his coffee down. “And you’re right. I haven’t been fair to you.”

You looked at him, surprised. “Drew – “

“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been so focused on my career that I forgot what matters most – you. Us. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not part of my life, because you are. You’re everything to me, Y/N. And I know I haven’t shown that enough.”

Tears filled your eyes, and this time, you didn’t fight them. “I just... I miss you, Drew. I miss us.”

He crossed the room in a few strides, pulling you into his arms. “I miss us, too,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’m going to do better. I promise.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time, it felt like you were on the same page.

[robinsgrl]

kildare nights. ten, giving up. previous ! next.

gold at hand and no more treasures to hunt, the freshly graduated treasure hunters are left to deal with the simple life. as simple as a certain level of fame and millions of dollars in the obx can get you, at least.

an. idk what to do with angst anymore i kinda got over it. i want to say that it will be smooth sailing from here but lying is my favorite pastime so idk man, idk

the taglist will now be done in the comment section!! i didn’t even know there was a limit yall… lol. if you want to be added, comment or send me an ask! also, im gonna purge through the taglist and remove those who dont interact sorry not sorry lol. so only ask if you know you will be doing so. love you.

[rcamshateclub]

☆.｡.:* introducing… crybaby!reader

crybaby!reader who loves bootcut and flared jeans. the whole downtown girl style but lovesss bows and cute pink things! her favorite color being blue but whenever she’s with rafe, her hyperfemininity comes out full blown! she loves necklaces, specifically sterling silver! she loves rings as well.

crybaby!reader whose hobbies are journaling, reading, listening to music, laying down on the floor, watching tv shows, and looking at the trees. she loves stargazing and going on walks on the beach and in the forest.

crybaby!reader who is soooo sensitive, any mean comments or insults, she’ll overthink about them and cry once she’s home. crybaby!reader who really wants love but doesn’t know how to express herself. rafe who was her first everything, yet, his first nothing. it pained her!

crybaby!reader who just wants to be able to cry and have her boyfriend comfort her and whisper in her ear, letting her suck on his thumb and maybe even bite on him. she’s so clumsy at times but that’s who she is!

─────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

☆.｡.:* a meetcute!

☆.｡.:* meetcute 2!

[pearlsvp]

just a little thought i had about rafe cameron x reader…

imagine strolling down the streets of new york and the tiktok guy that asks couples about their meet cutes approaches you

when he first comes near you, rafe is a little protective. he doesn’t know what the guy wants and is very wary of him

but you instantly recognise him from tiktok and brighten up, telling rafe he’s the guy whose tiktok’s you always show him

when he asks about your meet cute, you let rafe tell the story since he loves talking about how you first met

when the tiktok is uploaded, it goes viral.

people can’t stop obsessing about how in love rafe is with you. the way he looks at you when you interrupted him to add little bits to the story, or the way he remembered even the most simple details of that first meeting

[pamperedollie]

XOXO. જ⁀➴

A GOSSIP

‎‎ ‎‎GIRL AU

. ۫ ꣑ৎ you've gone your whole life hating the spotlight, but soon find yourself enveloped in it

summary. a scandalous gossip girl-inspired au where you—an aspiring fashion designer is caught in the chaos high society, stumbling into a dangerously irreristible love triangle between the wealthy & powerful vanderbilt brothers, all under the eyes of gossip girl …

tropes. love triangle, fake dating, forced proximity, social media, poc reader

characters

☆ GGAU!READER

☆ drew vanderbilt

☆ harris vanderbilt

☆ ryan bennett

☆ lila vanderbilt

☆ alexa esparza

☆ evan ortiga

☆ damson sinclair

☆ taylor beaufort

chapters

one

two

layout ib by musegyra

[dailyflicks]

THE OTHER ZOEY (2023) dir. Sara Zandieh

[janicekao]

Kookville

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x stepsis reader(dark smut) Summary: Rafe Cameron and his step sister secretly have been hooking up and he is extremely possessive over her. She's a plus size black goddess and he wants her all to himself, although they often quarrel and bicker, she is his and only his. (reader may use Y/N or choose any name of your liking for the fem character)

Warnings: stepcest, dark romance, smut, hate s3x, rough s3x, cr3ampie, violence, br33ding kink, possessive, d0m&femsub, dub!con, etc.

3890 words

Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 -------------------------------------

The house quiets down just the way that you like it. Each of your family members have their own plans as they do everyday in the beautiful OBX.

You enjoy the beach, but what you enjoy the most is the new mansion you and your mom just moved into when it's nice and empty.

It's only been you and your mother for as long as you have known it, but just last year, she married the millionaire real estate developer, Ward Cameron.

Not only did you have to get used to having a stepfather, but now you have three step-siblings. Two sisters, Sarah and Wheezie Cameron, and a brother, Rafe Cameron.

You enjoy Sarah and Wheezie's company. Sarah is a year or two younger than you, but she's really down to Earth. Wheezie is the baby, she's much younger than the entire house and seriously looks up to her big sister Sarah.

The girls are nothing like Rafe and Ward...

Rafe and Ward are two of the same kind. Arrogant, selfish, spoiled, and most of all pure evil. Labeling themselves as "Kooks" they believe that they are better than the lower class people on this island who are known as the "Pogues."

You're not sure what your mother saw in Ward Cameron, but you have no right to say anything being that for the last few months, you've been fucking Rafe behind everyone's back.

Started as a drunken mistake, now it has become a necessity to you both.

He needs you so badly, that if he weren't as stuck up as he is, he'd worship the ground you walk on... But then again, maybe he wouldn't with the amount of hate you both have for each other.

You see him as a cruel, rich, arrogant, asshole... And he sees you as a boring, loser, with a bad attitude. So why put up with each other?

Because the sex is fucking incredible.

Incredible to the point that he spoils you with skimpy lingerie and has put you on a birth control regiment.

Each time you do it, you promise yourself it's the last... Hating the fact that you and Rafe were supposed to become family, and now embarrassing enough, you two can't stop boning.

Maybe it is a kink that you both share together... An exhilarating fear of getting caught and the excitement of doing something so extremely wrong...

Whatever it is, you just can't stop.

—————

Lounging in a pair of black shorts, you enjoy the quaintness of your room as you flip through a magazine on the bed.

Sarah and Wheezie are out for ice cream, Mom and Ward are out shopping and spending alone time together, and Rafe is out on the town being devious as always... so you thought.

Bursting through your bedroom door, Rafe comes inside as he searches your purse for money...

You sigh, here we go again.

"What is it this time?" You continue to read as you ask in sarcasm. "For coke, or molly?"

"Shut up, y/n." He takes the only money you have, quickly storing it in the pockets of his pants. "It's my Dad's money anyways. If you need more, just go ask your slutty mother."

"What did you just say?" Hearing the insult about your mother makes your blood boil.

You leave your bed to quickly check him, however he only finds your short and innocently chubby stature amusing. You're far from threatening, voice too sweet to strike fear into anybody.

Staring down at you he chuckles deviously. "You heard me right. Every single night, they keep me up as she loudly fucks my dad out of all of his money."

Rafe caresses your full bottom lip as he gently pulls it down. "Like mother, like daughter, huh?"

You slap Rafe clean across his face.

He takes it like it's nothing.

A low toned growl heats his throat. "Do it again."

You do.

Face hot and red from the second slap, he absolutely loves it.

Rafe tightens his grip around your wrists pulling you up against him. His face should be stinging with pain but instead you feel his hardened cock poke against your bellybutton.

"When was the last time we—"

"Fuck off." You immediately interrupt his lewd intentions as you find yourself back onto your bed and reading your magazine.

Rafe gently lays next to you. He's quiet, too quiet as his intense blue eyes watch you.

Rolling your eyes you immediately turn your back on him. You try and hide the fact that his cologne from after his fresh shower has you almost dizzy with arousal, but he knows.

He watches the goosebumps fill the skin of your arms and begins to smirk.

"What is it this time?" He gently taunts. "Was it my presence? Maybe lying beside you? Or was it the cologne?"

Rafe chuckles as he watches your body tense up. "My cologne. It's always my smell isn't it, y/n?"

"I'm in a rush." He snaps.

Rafe pulls the tiny shorts off of your hips and down your legs before he tosses them to the floor. "I have places to be, not time to waste here with you. Lay on your back."

"You came in here to bother me, remember?" You play hard to get as you bark, knowing that your panties are soaked for him. "Go fuck yourself Rafe."

"Yeah?" He questions. "Well I can do that too."

As you ignore him, you hear his khakis suddenly unzip and the sounds of lewd fapping.

You peel your eyes from the magazine and notice Rafe stroking himself at the sight of you in your underwear and T-shirt.

His mouth hangs agape as he whispers your name. You continue to peek and your mouth begins to water for his handsomely long cock.

His large hand seems to swallow yours up as he takes your attention from your magazine and places your digits over his shaft for you to continue the hand job.

You sigh. "Rafe, what do you want from me?"

"You know what I want." He groans lightly. "I'm going to give you this cock and then I have to go and meet up with Barry."

Rolling your eyes at the thought of Rafe's friend Barry, you know for sure that the money he stole from you is to party. Barry is the worst company to keep... OBX's drug dealer.

Taking your hand away from him as he nears his cum immediately aggravates him.

Rafe takes your magazine and throws it out of your bedroom's opened window, vexed from the aching blue balls you've now given him.

"I was reading that!?" You whine as you watch the pages of your favorite magazine soar through the wind and out of your window.

Rafe puts himself away as he scoffs and begins to leave your room. "You're just a fucking tease."

You hate being called a tease.

You aren't a tease, you two just... hate each other.

Sitting up from your comfortable position, you begin to demand an exchange. "What's in it for me?"

Rafe hardly hears you as he becomes nearly hypnotized by the way your thighs expand as you sit on the edge of the bed.

"Rafe!?" You complain.

"Whatever you want." He can't pull his eyes from you as he licks the drool from his lips in temptation.

You begin to ponder over what it could be that you want in return... You are having a bit of trouble making friends in this new state, maybe getting out more could help. As much as Rafe parties, you are sure that tagging along will help you meet new people.

"Let me come with you to the beach party this Friday!" You finally decide.

"The beach party?" He frowns. "No fucking way. I know you too well, y/n. You'll do something stupid like wear that black string bikini I bought you... That's only for me to see."

You laugh. "Rafe, I'm fully grown, you forget that you're my stepbrother... not my dad."

He gags. "Trust me, I remember quite well."

You reach to aggravate him further. "You're just afraid you'll see me flirting, having fun, and ready to fuck someone else, huh?"

His sarcastic grin fades until his eyes darken. He hates when you push him there, and somehow you're the only one who knows how to do it.

"Do you remember the last time you tried to make me jealous?" Rafe begins to threat.

You reminisce on the red and blue lights that approached the fist fight that nearly knocked you to the ground as you tried to step in between Rafe and your potential one night stand. The evening at a local bar that you wished you never had visited... The evening when you realized how possessive Rafe was truly over you.

You gulp, "I try not to actually."

"Good." He fumes. "Now take off your panties, you're wasting my time."

Tempted to watch the spoiled rich boy plead for something that only you have control over, you begin to toy with his patience.

"Hmm?" You taunt. "Beg for it."

"What? Beg? You?" He laughs in a way that most would see as him bullying you.. Laughter that seems like you're not shit to him, but you know that you are. Your confidence has always been your most powerful trait, also what drives Rafe mad the most. "I can get pussy somewhere else."

He gulps as your cold siren eyes wait for his childish laughter to end. "So do it."

Rafe's jaw clinches. He's terribly angry that the only sex that he actually wants, is yours.

His skin begins to redden as you break the arrogant spirit of the powerful six-foot-two-inch man of pure muscle. "Please, y/n?"

You ignore him... it inflames him.

"You fucking want it too!" He scoffs. "Stop playing so hard to get!"

"So what? I also want a million dollars Rafe." You argue. "I want to hear you beg or you're not getting a fucking thing."

You gently part your plush thighs apart to drive him a bit more crazy... It's nearly comical the way you can melt him. Far from his usual type, however you have just what he needs.

"Yeah, fine. Whatever, fuck you— fine." He struggles with his thoughts and words, wanting you so bad that he nearly stutters words of hatred. It's hilarious.

Eyes of hunger, he finally submits to you. Rafe sits at the edge of your bed, tossing you into his lap as if you were weightless.

He wants you to feel his heated gaze as he does what you ask him to do. He begins to beg for you.

"Y/n, please let me eat your pussy and fuck you until your flesh is raw and you finally shut the fuck up." His erection prodding against you out of his tight khakis nearly takes your breath away.

"Nicer." You whisper quietly.

....

His voice shudders. "Please baby.." Rafe is finally the begging puppy that he deserves to be brought down to. "Let me fuck you so good."

A smirk creeps across your face. "Baby?" You coo. "You must really want it, seeing that you've already gone to pet names."

"Shut up."His kiss takes your breath away, thirsty for your essence, Rafe chokes you with his tongue.

He strips you out of your clothes, letting your T-shirt and panties hit the floor as he stands over your completely bare body.

The way he watches makes you redden with shame. You're nude and he's fully dressed as you become more vulnerable by the second.

"At least undress Rafe!" You frown as you go to stand.

Your breath is sharply taken from you as he pushes you roughly back onto the bed. "Shut up, let me look at you." He demands.

Your goosebumps are back and at full force.

"Oh god.." You become embarrassed as the glistening waterfall between your legs begins to reveal your arousal. Tightening your knees together was a bad move... All Rafe does is pry them apart to watch the slickness even closer.

Enticed and licking his lips, his shirt finally comes off. He enjoys watching the gripped indents around your thighs, so soft and malleable like two pillows as he pulls you further down to the edge of the bed.

Rafe doesn't hesitate any longer. His mouth begins to swallow you up causing you to gasp from how sensitive you are down there.

Your back begins to arch as he devours your pussy and the flicking of his tongue on your clit makes you squeal uncomfortably.

You can't take it.

Your hand presses against his head, fingers through his buzzcut as you shove him away.

Rafe growls. Eyes of pure evil watch up at you as he pins your wrists to the bed. He doesn't stop.Slurping, nibbling, and tongue fucking you as he wants badly to see you cry from his pleasurable torture.

Adding his long digits into your tight cunt, Rafe curls a singular finger at your g-spot.

"Fuck! Rafe please—" Your begging is pathetic.

"Shhh." He coos gently. "You can take it, I need to work you open for me a bit."

You hate how at times he can be almost gentle and romantic... It gets to be so confusing, and in this case, it doesn't help the orgasm tightening in the midst of your stomach.

His indecent finger-fucking has your brain a puddle of dumb mush, not being able to take the precious tongue flicks and kisses on your clit along with the rough thrusts inside of you A second long and strong finger takes you to the moon. Pussy too full of his tanned digits and melting down his wrists, you sinfully cum and lay tiredly into the mattress.

He comes up for air, panting lightly as the alluring muscles in his chest writhes with each breath.

His smile melts you, wet and devious as he presses his lips to yours. "Taste that?" He taunts breathlessly, "Pussy too good for someone so fucking annoying."

Stripping out of his pants, you watch Rafe's weighty erection near his bellybutton as it stands at attention.

He strokes himself softly, making his skin slick with the drop of wet precum that's already beaded out of his needy tip. "Turn around."

He tosses you onto your stomach without much of a warning. You still can hardly think for yourself since your last cum, so Rafe does the thinking for you.

Putting you onto your knees, he arches your back and smooths his fingers through your curls as he presses your face into the mattress for the coming back-shots.

Sliding through your slickness a few times, he lubes himself enough to fuck into you. The tip of his cock plunges through your already sensitive cunt, forcing you to take a gasp of air as you fist the sheets under you.

You hear a gulp that chokes his throat as Rafe continues to push his cock forward. "Fuck, you feel so good baby."

Clinching your eyes shut, you feel his swollen bulbous tip kiss at your cervix. It makes your body shudder. He's so far deep in you, you almost feel sick.

His balls slap against your cunt as he bottoms out into you. Your pussy feels so tight around him that you're sure you can feel his every vein probing out of his hardened flesh.

Rafe follows his own speed, paying most of his attention towards his needy want to reach his own finish. Fucking power drives into you because he knows that you can take it.

His groans are music to your ears, but you can hardly hear them over your own weeping and curses.

"Stay just like that, y/n." He nearly pleads. "You're so tight for me baby, whose pussy is this?"

Although clearly fucked to a pulp and pussy clearly belonging to him, you'd rather die than to let him know it. Eyes half-lidded and drooling onto your sheets, you refuse to let him have it.

"Mine." You pant.

Rafe laughs, plummeting his broad thumb into your tight asshole. "You're so fucking hardheaded, that's okay, you'll learn."

"Rafe! St-Stop!" Your fist tighten the sheets further until your knuckles turn white.

"Next time it'll be my cock.." He threatens you to behave as he forces his thumb in deeper and suddenly snatches it out. "Keep playing with me."

Your body lewdy continues to slap against his. Rafe is so obsessed with it, loving your extremely thick figure and knowing just how to handle it.

He slaps your ass. "Fuck me back."

You do. You throw your ass back in away that has Rafe biting at his lip, trying to hold back from cumming his load too soon.

His strong fingertips seep into the plushed flesh of your waist as he hammers his last strokes into you. Chain dangling against your skin with each thrust.

He groans, deeply growling out his words as he tries to help his own anticipation. "The other day when you babysat for our neighbors, I watched you bounce that baby on your hip and all I could think of was breeding you. Wanting so badly to take the pills from you and pump you with my seed."

"M-fuckkk." You mewl, pussy numb, obliterated, and needing a break.

Rafe chuckles. "The family knows how reckless I am, but what will Mommy and Daddy think of their precious-America's Sweetheart daughter when they find out she's a slut who fucks her stepbrother? A dumb slut who loves her stepbrother's cum so much that she let him fill her until she grew his baby?"

He snatches a handful of your hair, making you yelp and drop tears as he continues to tear you apart. "You deserve the hate that I get it..." His jealousy has his jaws tightened, and gritting his words. "They should know you aren't as innocent as you act."

Rafe harshly slaps your ass, you can feel the handprint swelling into a stinging welt on your flesh.

You can't help but to moan. The sex is so good but the embarrassment of loving it causes you to cry.

"Fuck you." You manage to speak through your wet lips and trembling breaths..

"Anytime you want, sis." His laugh is pure mockery.

"Fuck."Rafe fawns over your body, his hand reaches beneath you, cupping your large breasts and slowly choking your air away.

With a grip on your chin he forces your head around to watch his final act.

Deviously impaling your insides as he sputters his hot cum inside of you. "You're so pretty with a cock in you.Stop acting like we're going to stop, you know that we never will."

"Mmm."His muscles tighten as his many inches still inside of you, jolting as he spills his milky seed. "Tell me how much you love to be fucked by me..."

You feel shame as the hot nut causes you a second climax. Biting the sheets, you can't answer anything as your eyes cross and roll to the back of your skull.

"I swear to god, y/n, answer me." Rafe impales you further making your tummy ache and your cunt nearly tear against him.

"I love it." You weep a final act of submission. "I love to be fucked by you Rafe, my god, just don't go any harder."

Spreading your cheeks apart, he grins at the masterpiece of mess he's made on your swollen flesh. "I won't baby, you did good."

Melting into the mattress, you flatten out of your arched back.

Rafe checks his watch... he's extremely late to meeting up with his drug dealer.

He redresses, grinning as he watches you ache from his ruthless fucking.

"Ice it." He cruelly demands. "I'll be back again when the house falls asleep."

You roll your eyes, reaching for your clean beach towel to wipe his cum from dripping down your thighs.

A phone begins to ring as you redress. You think that it's probably Barry calling Rafe's phone to see where he's been so held up at...

But it's not Rafe's phone, it's yours.

Rafe immediately beats you to the ringing iPhone. "Ohhhh?" He taunts. "An unsaved number? What are you being sneaky about?"

You snatch for your phone, angry that he keeps it high out of your reach. As he answers he tightly wraps his arm around your waist to keep you from fighting it.

Rafe answers your phone quietly, waiting for the caller to speak first.

"Hello?" The voice asks. "Y/n? Where are you? I thought you wanted me to come meet you halfway? Anyways, you know where we are! Bonfire at John B's baby! I already got the beer."

...

Rafe's blood boils.

Hearing a Pogue's voice has him heated. But hearing that out of all people, the voice belongs to JJ Maybank? It makes him furious.

He hangs up. "Getting drunk at John B's house, huh? My sister Sarah has you hanging with those fucking Pogues?"

"Give me my phone back!" You argue. "It isn't like that.."

"So then what is it like?" Rafe frowns. "You're fucking JJ Maybank?"

You scoff. "What is wrong with you? He's the only friend I've made here in Outerbanks. He waits tables with me at the Waterside restaurant."

"Oh does he now?" He taunts.

Rafe begins to laugh sarcastically. He suddenly snatches your arm into both of your views, forcing you to see how your skin is again riddled with goosebumps.

The same goosebumps that you get when indecent thoughts make you horny.

Fuck... He knows you better than you thought.

"Look at you." His jaw tightens. "You might not be fucking him, but you want too."

Your eyes widen and your large guilty irises give you away.

You are smitten with JJ, and you can't help it. He's the opposite of Rafe... He's kind, gentle, and extremely sweet to you.

You love his innocently dimpled smile. He's the largest crush you've had since you were in middle school and watched your first Justin Timberlake video.

"I guess I have to stop by John B's house tonight, huh? Pay a visit to JJ?" You're able to feel the heat raging off of Rafe's body.

You grab his arms, pleading for him not to make a scene. "No don't! Please, Rafe! What do you want? Aren't I giving you enough?"

"No." Rafe firmly grasps your wrists, flinging them away from touching him. "Block JJ's number, and stop talking to the fucking Pogues."

You agree, nodding as tears swell in your eyes.

"You live in this house, you're a fucking Kook!" His raised voice rains frightening screams upon you. "...Better yet, you're not even a Kook, you're mine.You're Rafe's, and if you continue to be hard headed and act like a fucking child, I'll release hell on Earth... you know that I can, and that I fucking will."

"Tell me you understand y/n, before I make you hate me even more." His voice lowers into a final threat.

You've seen him get rough with people, better yet, you've seen him already kick JJ's ass once for something that had nothing to do with you... doing it again would only make his day.

You gulp. "I get it Rafe, I understand."

...

Silence fills the room as he continues to gawk deviously over what is his, you.

Rafe wipes a fallen tear from your face. "Kiss me."

He tilts your chin to reach his lips and places the most tender kiss he has ever given you.

Rafe claims you as his as he grabs a handful of your ass, prying your sweetly soft lips apart as his tongue locks with yours. Rafe Cameron's tongue kiss is the only thing that has ever made your knees weak. Sadly, you can't decide if you still hate him or if his need to be possessive over you is actually causing you to love him.

[reachedrafe]

Pushed too far

Summary : You’ve been teasing Rafe all day, pushing his limits. But when you take things a step too far, he finally snaps.

Warnings : 18+ MDNI, smut, fingering, p n v and teasing (I think that's it but if there is more let me know!!)

It started off innocent enough. A playful brush of your hand against Rafe's thigh under the table during lunch, a lingering look, a bite of your lip. You loved how his jaw tightened, how his eyes darkened with a mix of frustration and desire. It was a game, one you had mastered, but today you decided to push a little further.

As the afternoon sun poured into the room, you found yourself alone with Rafe in the living room. You sauntered over to where he sat on the couch, his eyes glued to the TV but you knew he wasn’t paying attention to whatever was on. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and almost tangible.

You climbed onto his lap without a word, straddling his thighs. He stiffened beneath you, his hands instinctively gripping your waist. You could see the conflict in his eyes—half of him wanted to toss you off, and the other half wanted to pull you closer.

"What's wrong, Rafe? Don't you like it when I play with you?" you whispered, your voice dripping with seduction as you began to rock your hips against his. The friction, even through your clothes, was delicious, sending a shiver of pleasure through you.

He exhaled sharply, his grip on your waist tightening. “You really like to push me, don’t you?”

You grinned, your lips inches from his. "Maybe I just like seeing how far you'll let me go."

His eyes narrowed, and before you could react, he grabbed the back of your neck and crashed his lips against yours. The kiss was anything but gentle; it was fierce, all tongue and teeth, as if he was trying to devour you. You moaned into his mouth, the sound only spurring him on.

Without breaking the kiss, Rafe’s hands slid down to your hips, holding you firmly as he ground you down harder against him. The sensation made your head spin, a wave of heat pooling between your legs. His control was slipping, and that’s exactly what you wanted.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but you didn’t stop moving your hips. “Is that all you’ve got?” you taunted breathlessly, loving the way his eyes flared with anger and lust.

Rafe’s expression darkened, and in an instant, he had you flipped onto your back on the couch, his body hovering over yours. His hand wrapped around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. “You think you’re so tough, don’t you?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

You couldn’t hide the smirk that tugged at your lips. “Maybe I just like seeing you lose control.”

Something inside him snapped, and you could feel it in the way his grip tightened on your throat, the way his other hand yanked your hips against his, grinding against you with a desperate need. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted me to snap?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a whimper as his hand slid under your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His touch was rough, almost punishing, but you loved every second of it.

“I’ve had enough of your games,” he hissed, his hand slipping under the waistband of your shorts. You bucked against him, a moan escaping your lips as his fingers found their way between your legs, teasing you through the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Rafe…” you breathed, but your voice was lost as he pressed down harder, the sensation sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You were quickly losing control, your teasing turning into desperate need.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice barely more than a growl. “To see what happens when I stop playing nice?”

You couldn’t form words, only nodding as your hips moved against his hand, chasing the release that was so close. But Rafe wasn’t going to let you off that easily. He suddenly pulled his hand away, leaving you gasping and trembling beneath him.

“Not so fast,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours. “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

You whimpered, a mixture of frustration and arousal building inside you. He was so close, his body pressing down on yours, his hand still around your throat, and you could feel how hard he was against your thigh. But he was in control now, and he was going to make you beg for it.

Rafe leaned down, his lips hovering over yours. “Say you’re sorry,” he demanded, his voice soft but commanding.

You swallowed hard, your pride battling with the overwhelming need coursing through you. But as his fingers slid back between your legs, teasing you just enough to drive you crazy, you broke.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

“For what?” he pressed, his lips brushing against your jaw.

“For pushing you,” you gasped as his fingers dipped under your underwear, grazing against your wetness. “For teasing you.”

Rafe’s eyes glittered with satisfaction as he finally gave in, his fingers plunging inside you with a force that made you cry out. He didn’t hold back, driving you to the edge with a relentless pace, his mouth on yours swallowing every moan, every desperate plea.

When you finally shattered, it was with a force that left you trembling in his arms, his name a broken whisper on your lips. He held you through it, his fingers slowing but never stopping, prolonging your pleasure until you were nothing but a quivering mess beneath him.

You were completely wrong when you thought he was done. He moved slowly, with purpose, his hands steady as they unbuckled his belt, the metallic clink echoing in the quiet room. His eyes never left yours, dark with an intensity that sent shivers done your spin. When his pants finally dropped to the floor, you gasped, unable to tear your eyes away.

He was rock hard, every inch of him throbbing with need. The sight alone was enough to make your breath hitch, a wave of heat pooling in your low in your belly. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them done with a deliberate slowness that made your pulse quicken.

As he lined up with your entrance, you felt a surge of anticipation, your body already aching for him. He pressed forward, a rough but measured force that stole your breath. Every inch that stretched and filled you brought a mix of pleasure and pain that bordered on overwhelming, your body clenching around him instinctively. His movements were controlled, each push slow, deep, leaving you with no choice but to feel every single moment.

As he pushed deeper, you felt every nerve in your body light up, your breath catching in your throat. The slow, deliberate rhythm he set was torturous in the best way, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. His hands found your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer, anchoring you to him.

The room was filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure—your soft gasps and his low, guttural groans merging into one. The sensation of him filling you, combined with the raw, almost primal connection between you, was overwhelming. It was as though time slowed, every second stretching out as you moved together, lost in the intensity of the moment.

His pace began to quicken, the roughness of his thrusts increasing as the tension between you built to a crescendo. You could feel the pressure mounting inside you, each movement bringing you closer to the edge. Your nails raked down his back, leaving trails of sensation in their wake as you arched into him, desperate for more.

His breath was hot against your ear, his voice a low growl as he whispered your name, the sound of it sending a shiver down your spine. It was as if he was claiming you with each thrust, marking you as his in a way that was both possessive and intensely intimate.

The world around you faded, leaving only the feeling of him inside you, the heat of your bodies pressed together, and the overwhelming tide of pleasure that threatened to consume you both. And then, just as you thought you couldn't take any more, he shifted, hitting that perfect spot that sent you spiraling over the edge, your body trembling "Rafe. I-I'm gonna cum" you cried out, the release crashing over you in wave after wave of ecstasy.

He followed you moments later, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, his body shuddering as he found his own release. For a few heartbeats, you stayed like that, locked together in the aftermath, your breathing heavy and your bodies still trembling from the intensity of it all.

When it was over, he pulled back, his breath ragged, his eyes still dark with desire. “Next time,” he warned, “think twice before you start something you can’t finish.”

You nodded weakly, still trying to catch your breath, but you couldn’t help the small smile that played on your lips. You knew you’d do it all over again. After all, pushing Rafe Cameron’s buttons was your favorite game.

[bluebayousblog]

RUMOR HAS IT (pt. 18)

(Drew Starkey one-shot)

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

Setting: Christmas Morning

Disclaimer: Isobel is an OC, 18+

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

PART SEVENTEEN

Drew didn’t want to let go of Isobel, and he meant that in so many ways. When he was fourteen he laid eyes on her for the first time, and hadn’t expected to like her as much as he did—his entire family liked her. She was so shy with them all in the beginning, but he still managed to be enamored by the fraction of her she presented to his family within those first few weeks of them meeting. He knew she was special and it was easy for him to want to treat her as such because in his head doing that meant she would stick around, it meant she would open up around them.

When college came around they ended up at the same university, so he never had to consider parting ways with her in that regard, it was when she began dating Grayson that he experienced what it felt like for her to be slipping away from him. He didn’t register the feelings as jealousy, no it was more like a discomfort he felt about her being in a relationship. A discomfort that he chalked up as him being protective because that is what made sense to him at the time. He couldn’t stop her from dating, so he learned to live with it—learned how to share Isobel with another man who didn’t deserve her—until they broke up three years into their relationship. And though she returned to him heartbroken and not quite the same happy girl she was before he’ll always remember the relief he felt.

The last two years of college he spent probably annoying Isobel beyond lengths but that’s how he got his fix. He enjoyed walking her to class when he could, no matter how brief, it was always enough for him to see her face and hear her sweet voice. When weekends came he invited her to his parties because it was an excuse to have her around without having to worry about her wellbeing somewhere else. And at those parties he couldn’t help but give most if not all of his attention to her when he wasn’t entertaining some random girl. How could he not when she was in the same room as him, it was close to impossible for him to ignore Isobel’s presence.

Drew had been with so many women in his life, and never once had he felt that pull he did with Isobel after simply realizing he could be attracted to her. After years of knowing each other he’d kissed her once and had been overcome with the need to have her to all to himself. He’d always felt this way but having her in such an intimate way made it so much clearer. Being with Isobel created a fear within Drew because although he felt for her in the capacity that he did, it didn’t mean she felt the same way for him.

And just because Drew had fallen in love with Isobel didn’t mean she would ever fall in love with him.

Isobel let him hold her in his arms after he told her he loved her, she rolled over and hid her face in his chest instead of running away from his confession. He felt whole with her in his embrace, the way she relaxed with him made him feel like she would never leave him, so it scared him when he had to slip away to the bathroom to clean up and discard the condom. The mere thought of the bed being empty when he returned making him linger in the bathroom a little longer just to brace himself.

He eventually couldn’t help but go back to her, holding his breath as he approached his bed, and when he saw her body still resting there on his side of it, he exhaled.

“You took my spot, Izzy Bear.” Drew stated with a smile as he slipped himself under her body, and he melted when her soft hand ran up his stomach so she could wrap an arm around his torso.

She looked so adorable under him, her long hair framing her face, her soft skin bare, and her brown eyes warm with unspoken emotion that made his grip on her hip tighten, “Your spot was warmer than mine.”

He could only smile in response as their eyes remained locked, it felt completely different than before and they both knew it was because what had just transpired between them. Isobel hadn’t expected having sex with Drew to leave her feeling so needy. She hadn’t thought about what it would be like after, and now she was feeling so many confusing emotions all at once. She felt scared of his feelings—of her own—but she didn’t want to leave him. Isobel had already done that, and it only hurt them both. So she clung to him and silently thought of everything that had happened tonight. The unnecessary fighting followed by intense sex followed by his confession.

“You love me?” Isobel whispered with her lips moving against the arm her cheek was lying on, and she couldn’t ignore the twinge of hopefulness that was buried deep in her tone. Only someone who desperately wanted to hear the emotion could distinguish it beyond all of her layers she put forth, but she had a feeling her body knew Drew was exactly that—desperate for a part of her no matter how minuscule. She wanted to look away before he answered her, not in fear of him not saying yes, but the fear of simply looking him in the eyes as he answered her.

“Yes.”

Her face immediately heated at the short response that despite its conciseness had her heart pounding inside her chest, and despite her internal transgressions her eyes couldn’t help but find his blue ones. It was unbelievable how one or three words could mean so much—could make her feel so much. She’d once felt this way before with someone else, she’d also ran away from this feeling, but it still managed to find her and still knocked the breath out of her. She knew her cheeks were red when he swept his thumb across the warm skin of her face, “When did you realize it?”

It was like Isobel was in front of a mesmerizing flame she shouldn’t touch, but couldn’t help but stick her fingers through. Although, the closer she got to him, to the heat, the fire wasn’t so scary anymore—like it wasn’t even really a fire to begin with.

“Isobel, I think I have always loved you.” Drew settled on an answer after thinking it over. He didn’t want to overwhelm her, but it also felt impossible for him to keep what he was thinking to himself. It was like when she gave herself to him he couldn’t hold in his feelings for her any longer.

And If he was being honest he couldn’t remember not loving Isobel. The time from when they were only family friends to when they hooked up for the first time felt like one convoluted memory of Drew falling for her without knowing it.

Isobel had no idea what to think, someone had fallen in love with her and he’d done it so easily—so effortlessly. And it melted all of her resolve considering the fact that he’d told her on a holiday she held so close to her heart. She was going to remember his devotion to her every Christmas thereafter.

“I don’t know what to say, Drew.” She shyly admitted, now looking away from his gaze. He just sounded so sure from the first ‘I love you’ as he dropped down on the mattress beside her after he rolled off of her, and it was his certitude along with his admission that stole the air from her chest.

She didn’t want to hurt him because of her own reservations, but she also hadn’t come to terms with her own feelings for Drew like he had for her. The last thing she wanted to do was compare what she had with him to her past relationship but her trauma made it hard to distinguish the two. Though, Isobel knew better because the way Drew made her feel wasn’t comparable to the man she had before. Even the way he told her he loved her was different, there was no flood of expectancy—he just wanted her to know but still she couldn’t help but wonder if her silence was disappointing him.

Because despite all of her fears, something that remained consistent for Isobel was that she believed his word.

“I don’t need you to know what to say, Isobel, I’m sorry I couldn’t help it.” Drew swallowed, wanting to do everything he could not to scare her anymore than he already had.

Isobel’s heart melted at his words, he was being so vulnerable and honest and it only made her want to tuck herself further into his arms, “You don’t have to apologize, Bear.”

He looked so handsome staring down at her with that same glimmer she always saw in his blue eyes, but now she knew exactly what he was feeling behind them. She couldn’t help herself as she leaned up to press their lips together in a gentle kiss, hoping it conveyed everything she couldn’t say because though she couldn’t articulate her feelings for Drew, it didn’t mean she didn’t feel anything at all. 
They kissed slowly like time was infinite for them, reveling in the feeling of their lips against each other, and each slow peck eased her nerves. She felt how intentional he was with his kisses like her mouth was made for his own, like he’d found something he’d been always looking for, while Isobel just tightly held on.

Never did she think she’d be in Drew’s bed as he sensually kissed her lips after telling her he loved her on the early hours of Christmas morning. It was unimaginable at one point, but in the moment it made perfect sense. The feeling of his wet lips, the warmth from his body against her own, and the idea of Drew falling in love with her—for the most part.

Isobel suddenly pulled away and looked into his eyes, looking for the answers to the questions she was afraid to ask, the questions she thought may make her look weak in his head. She hated letting her insecurities show, but they would only continue to haunt her if she kept letting them choke her until she was rendered silent. It was easy for Isobel not to be a burden to her friends and family, but what she hadn’t realized was just how silent it made her that she became sort of nonexistent.

And for once she didn’t want to feel that way with Drew.

“You won’t get tired of me?” She quietly asked, forcing herself to keep their eyes connected as she waited for him to speak. Isobel could confidently say that was one of her biggest fears, someone getting tired of you loving them because she’d experienced it first hand. And though it came out like a question, it was more of a plea.

Drew’s eyebrows creased at her question. Not only because the possibility could cross her mind, but at how raw and vulnerable her voice sounded as he listened to her. It was crazy how you could spend an abundance of time with someone and not know how bruised they are, then they let you in and you don’t understand how you couldn’t have seen it all before.

“I could never get tired of you” he stated with emphasis like the thought was rudimentary, he said it with a gentle force like it was truly impossible, and he promised it to her with sincerity because he could never reach that point. He wanted from the depths of his being for her to understand that she had nothing to fear because Drew tiring of Isobel simply could not be.

Drew never thought he could ever be frustrated with Isobel until he fell in love with her. He was frustrated with her for things she couldn’t help, frustrated at things that happened to her, and frustrated that he he’d taken so agonizingly long to realize just how important she was to him that she’d found love in someone else and been burned because of it.

“You promise?” She gave him a gentle smile, but he saw right through it and he knew just how important it was to give her what she needed.

Reassurance.

God, he just wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her entire body until she understood him and all the doubt in her mind was no more when she looked at him, touched him, and simply thought of him. But this was Isobel and while he did want so badly for her to trust what they had, there was also a part of him that wanted to see her slowly heal no matter how long it took because he was coming to find out, to truly know Isobel was to love her for the sides of her she allowed people to see while also loving the hidden parts of her that weren’t invisible—they were just barely on the surface.

“I promise, Izzy Bear.” He whispered and when she smiled, a real smile with her teeth on display just for him to see, the frustration he’d just been feeling felt so insignificant to the warmth currently inhabiting in his chest, “Give me a kiss.”

“I don’t think I heard you, Bear, can you say it a little firmer?” Isobel smirked.

She leaned her body on his chest and brought their mouths so close their lips brushed, barely keeping a slither of space between them. Her smirk grew into a full grin when she felt his arm wrap around her lower back and squeeze her upper thigh in his hand.

“I said give me a kiss, Isobel.” Drew looked unamused as he stared into her eyes while his hand wandered upward to rest on her ass.

Isobel didn’t listen as he repeated himself just as she asked, instead she moved her lips to his neck, running her mouth across the contours of it, his skin salty on her tongue. She couldn’t tell if the increase in his breathing was because her defiance was pissing him off or turning him on, but she didn’t mind either, “Hmmm I don’t think I feel like kissing you right now.”

“You always feel like kissing me.” He gritted through clenched teeth as she laid a full kiss on the center of his throat making her giggle. Isobel knew he was referring to just how pathetic her attempt was to keep things platonic between them for the holidays. How she’d cracked within days, no within minutes and hadn’t been able to keep her mouth off of him since. God, did she love having her lips on Drew.

Isobel chose not to respond as she continued to plant kisses down his neck and chest, every peck deliberate in her wake as she made her descent. She wanted to show Drew that she felt for him just as intensely as he did for her even if she couldn’t put it into words. This was the only way she thought to herself, atleast that’s how it worked for her in the past. Then Drew’s hand found her cheek and she froze before he pulled her back up his body so she was back where she began—chest to chest, nose to nose, and just slightly brushing his lips with her own.

“You don’t have to do that, Baby.” He mumbled as he pressed their foreheads together, staring into her brown eyes as if he was really trying to make sure she understood him, to remind her that he knew her.

Isobel’s eyes widened as she stared back in a sort of disorienting realization at the sincerity in his eyes and how she’d thought she’d loved before when really that hadn’t been what it was at all because what she was seeing in front of her in this moment was incomparable to anything she’d witnessed before.

“I want to kiss you.” She voiced her thoughts, it came out naturally like Drew was meant to know everything she was thinking.

“Then kiss me.” He barely finished before her lips were covering his in a gentle kiss.

One of his hands immediately found her jaw, squeezing her face as he pulled her further against his mouth. He could feel her as she immersed herself in the feeling of them being connected like she was wordlessly giving him another piece of herself that only he could interpret. Drew couldn’t help but release a deep groan at the intensity of it all, at how packed full of emotion this all was. His hands slipped down her jaw onto her throat before sliding to the back of her neck so he could bring her closer, desperate for all she was willing to give to him.

They kissed until they were out of breath, until Isobel was panting for him and desperate for his touch. His tongue massaged carefully into hers as he took his time tasting her. Her lips were starting to feel swollen and bruised but every time he released the pressure on her neck she kissed him deeper so his grip would return. She whined against his mouth when he disconnected their lips and looked up at the ceiling obviously drowning from his own arousal. She didn’t know where to go from here as she stared down at him, his eyes tightly shut and trying to control his breathing. Here she was in bed with a man who didn’t need her to prove herself to him, and she was completely and utterly lost in it all, “You’re making me feel things I don’t think I’ve ever felt before.” Isobel whispered as low as she could and rested her chin on the warm skin of his chest .

His eyes remained closed, but when she felt the rumble of a groan travel up his throat she knew he’d heard her and she smiled.

Isobel then couldn’t help but wonder if he’d let her tell him she loved him with his eyes closed, but she knew that’s not how she would want it, she couldn’t imagine it that way. In her head, when she let herself hope, she would say it when she wasn’t afraid to look him in eyes as she gave him her heart.

But for now she’d whisper it in riddles with his waiting stare hidden behind his resting eyelids.

She fell asleep comfortably in his arms and woke up to Drew staring down at her that Christmas morning. They’d obviously switched positions during the night as she was now tucked into his warm body as his back shielded her body and he leaned on his side, putting all his weight on his right arm, “You always wake up at this exact time on Christmas Day.”

Isobel didn’t have to look at the time on her phone to know it was seven in the morning. Her parents were most likely awake and lounging around in the den downstairs while she was cuddled up with Drew in his bedroom instead of waking up in her own. In just thirty minutes they would be listening for her descent down the stairs because that’s how it went every year they spent Christmas together, but things were changing to her dismay.

“How do you know? You usually don’t wake up until breakfast is ready.” She poked his side and giggled when he jumped at the feeling.

Drew couldn’t help but smile at the years of memories from all their holidays spent together, “For some reason I always wake up the moment you walk past my door to the stairs.”

If she already wasn’t a puddle from how sweet he was to her last night, she would’ve melted further into the mattress.

“You sure you weren’t feeling me two years ago, Bear?” Isobel joked though they’d been spending holidays together in this cabin for far longer than two years. Meaning he’d been feeling for her for so much longer.

He wrapped both of his arms around her body so he could pull her into him, he was getting used to his days starting with Isobel’s, especially on one of her most cherished.

“What did I say to you last night, Is?” He breathed and brushed her bare hips with his hand.

‘Isobel, I think I have always loved you.’

The more she heard him say it the more she wanted to hear it, like a song you didn’t quite understand the first listen but as you absorb the melodies, the words, and meaning you can’t help but want to hear it on repeat.

When Drew saw Isobel bite her bottom lip as her dark eyes glazed over in thought he swore he felt his heart rate drop before it began pounding in his chest. He loved this about her, how her body betrayed her and revealed exactly what she was feeling. Drew just loved when her guard was down with him. His grip tightened on her hips as if it would slow down the thumping in his veins.

“I have to get dressed.” Isobel released her lip and pouted knowing her mom would come check on her if she didn’t come downstairs soon, especially since she played sick yesterday to avoid the man she was under at this very moment.

“Okay.” Drew could only watch in a trance as she slipped from under him. He was mesmerized watching her leave the bed and stand before him with nothing covering her body. His tongue swiftly poked out to wet his lips when she swiped her pajamas off the floor and began to slowly get dressed—knowing his greedy eyes were watching, “Come here Isobel.”

She was working on the first button of her top when he interrupted and she wasted no time before walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed so she was facing him. When his big hands took over what she’d been doing, she let him as he buttoned up the silk pajama top just as slowly as she’d planned on doing. Although, with his fingers grazing and nudging the curve of her breasts as he made his way up to the last button it had a very different outcome.

“I’ll see you down there, baby.” Drew wiped his mouth with his thumb as he darkly glanced at her breasts through the red satin then back up to her pretty eyes. For some reason Isobel couldn’t help but grin in amusement at how boyish he was being, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was always that way in the morning.

“Maybe you should come downstairs a little earlier than usual?” She suggested and cursed to herself for not wearing any slippers when she decided to come here last night. When she got to the door she turned and gave him a soft look before having to go back to reality, a reality she wasn’t sure she wanted to maintain anymore.

“I’ll be right behind you, Isobel.”

[billyparker]

I’m gonna make a confession:

“I really have ALWAYS wanted Rafe & JJ to be a couple. While, Sarah & John B have been together already! (Never had Sarah & Topper)”

That being said, can a fellow Fan-Fiction writer please write a smutty, romantic, secret Jafe (JJ & Rafe) love story with me?

Set after a day of dirt biking in the woods, Rafe stops at a cabin for a break. He finds JJ bandaging his wounds from his run-in with Topper. Their spark is lite when Rafe’s good-side (his compassion) comes out and he helps JJ clean himself up. It’s a Discreet romance at first; a couple months, all summer, however, one night during a bonfire before school starts; JJ is a Jr & Rafe a Senior, Jafe sneak off together to Rafe’s truck and before they leave the party,

Sarah and John B eye down the pair holding hands and making out before getting in the truck… 😏

[robinsgrl]

kildare nights. nine, don’t even care. previous ! next

gold at hand and no more treasures to hunt, the freshly graduated treasure hunters are left to deal with the simple life. as simple as a certain level of fame and millions of dollars in the obx can get you, at least.

an. filler chapter cause im sick and i cant talk or breathe through my nose………… I love you guys so much you don’t even get it thank you guys for reading and giving me ur cute thoughts i want to kiss all of you fr. to any of you who celebrate, merry Christmas!! happy holidays everyone!!! hope you all have a great time and have many more great years to celebrate

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[rcamshateclub]

☆.｡.:* a meetcute!

crybaby!reader was always very happy this particular day. she had her cute pink outfit on and a pink bow in her hair! her little makeup with mascara and some red lip liner and gloss was looking pretty, along with her slight pink blush. she walks down the driveway of her home, the nice american dream home that her parents have always wanted and dreamed of in live finally happened.

she walks by tannyhill, the bushes around the home making it so mysterious. her curiosity about the cameron family was always there but hided by fear, especially of the oldest cameron. the compunction of her curiosity was apparent. she wanted to know about rafe so badly! what made him so bad? what made him so.. irascible?

as she admired the home, she didn’t realize someone was staring at her. she bumped into something hard.. or rather someone. she rubs her face, looking up to see rafe.

“well hey there, doll.” his tone smooth and steady. his eyes wandered around her. his biceps were huge.. she couldn’t help but stare.

“eyes up here, doll.” he murmurs lowly.

she looks up, a little nervous and scared. her body going rigid. he noticed and furrowed his eyebrows slightly, “what’s that for, sweetheart? i ain’t g’hurt ya?”

she shifts on her feet slightly, “s-sorry.” her tone coming off smooth, soft, and timid. she looks into his eyes, noticing the blue, slowly admiring them. her big brown eyes widen.

“see something you like, doll?” his signature smirk coming to life. seeing her was fun to me, she’s always been a mystery to him.

“was wondering when i’d finally meet you. you’re cute.” he mumbles softly, a hand coming to cup her cheek. involuntarily, she leaned into his touch.

“ahh.. atta girl..” he smirks, liking her involuntarily leaning into him.

“you gonna talk to me or not?”

“s-sorry! i’m sorry for bumping into you..” she mumbles softly, looking away from him again.

“mm.. ‘ts okay, doll. watch where you goin’ next time. some men ain’t as nice as i am.” he looks over her outfit, liking the bow in her hair.

“you’re cute, sweetheart.” he leans into her, whispering into her ear, “knew it’d be worth it to meet you.”

she blushes, freezing at his comment. “w-wait! you’ve been wanting to meet me? you? me? meet!?” she rambles a little, speaking too fast.

a light chuckle leaves his lips, “yeah, doll. been wanting to meet my next door neighbors’ daughter. you a cute lil’ thing.” he brushes her hair out of her face.

“thank you..” she mumbles softly.

“now.. what’s ya name, doll?” he looks at her and lifts her chin up with his index and thumb, needing her to look at him.

“y/n..” she looks at him, his touch is warm.. comforting even.

“nice to meet you, y/n.. think i’ll call you doll or sweetheart more though. we’ll be meeting more often, i think. you’d like that wouldn’t you?” he smirks, liking her blush. he lets go of her face, “well doll, i got business.. but it was nice seeing you. i’ll see you soon.”

and just like that, as fast as she met him, he left. she continued her walk, shocked at what happened..

she had just met rafe cameron and why did no one tell her about how handsome he is?!

[breathlessaura]

Consequences • Rafe Cameron

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!oc (John B's sister)

Josie stepped out of the truck and covered her ears with a grimace. Loud music was booming through the Cameron residence, polluting the whole neighborhood with noise.

You must be asking yourself why Josie Routledge was at a party thrown by the most obnoxious kook in all of Kildare island. Well, the truth is that she didn't entirely know herself.

Her younger brother's friend, JJ had been boasting to anybody that would listen about his extravagant plan to sneak into the party, it was his idea of heaven; free alcohol, women and a chance to piss off Rafe and his posse. And of course Josie was roped into attending, she however did refuse to sneak in.

Her eyes were full of judgement as they scanned over the exterior of the grand home. It was an extravagant display of wealth - something not exactly out of the ordinary for Ward Cameron or his son. Hoardes of drunk teens flowed in and out of the house. Some were throwing up, others opted for guzzling down more alcohol in an attempt to numb the nausea.

Her feet met the ground with rythmical thuds as she trudded over to the arched gate of the entrance. It was beautiful, intricately carved strands of metal woven together to create a breathtakingly prepossessing pattern. Thin vines tangled themselves around the metal - it was ethereal, something that was a stark contrast to the activities of the Cameron family.

The music thumped through the walls - echoing the chaos of a kook party. As Josie sauntered through the crowd, a wave of insecurity washed over her, surrounded by perfectly styled hair and designer clothes. She was never the type to be ashamed of being a pogue; of being 'less than' the self absorbed snobs on figure eight, but she couldn't help but feel a bit envious of their freedom and ability to do or say things without so much as having to think of the consequences.

In the corner of the room, she caught sight of him, Rafe Cameron. He was facing away from her, leaning against the bar with a smirk painted heavily across his face, only accentuated by the way his eyelids sat over his drunk eyes. An air of confidence surrounded him. Everybody else would put that down as him being a spoilt rich kid but Josie knew that Rafe Cameron was genuinely insane. She knew that he thought he was god's gift to earth.

The brunette grimaced and glanced away momentarily as his laughter mingled with the noise around him. It reminded her of the times she'd witnessed him do unspeakable things to countless people on the island... It was always the same psychotic laugh.

Rafe was wearing a checkered button up shirt with the same style of shorts that he was always sporting. On top of his head, a back to front baseball cap sat, hiding his brown locks.

"Josie!"

An arm draped around her, ripping her gaze from the bar and towards the source of the voice.

"What are you doing here?"

Her eyes landed on a familiar face, one belonging to who the pogues refer to as the 'Kook princess'.

"Oh" Josie muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear from out of her eyes. "Sarah, it's good to see you again."

The blonde rolled her eyes playfully and softly squeezed Josie's shoulder.

"I haven't seen you in school since before your dad.." Sarah's sentence cut short as she realised that the subject was not exactly ideal for a party, or at all really.

"I'm so s-"

"It's fine, honestly, promise" she wiggled her pinky finger in the air, something that Sarah and her would do with kie as kids. The action brought soft smile to both girl's faces.

Before the pair could reminisce any further, a familiar voice rang through the air. Josie's head whipped to the left and she rolled her eyes - a deep sigh of exasperation escaped her lips as she laid her eyes on Sarah's boyfriend, Topper.

"Sarah! Come on, we need to go!" He yelled above the music.

The blonde girl looked back at Josie with an apologetic glance.

"We need to catch up soon!" She exclaimed as she walked backwards so that she could see Josie's reaction.

"Sure, I'll text you."

The kook simply smiled and turned around, she walked over to where topper was waiting for her with an outstretched arm.

It had been an hour since Josie arrived at Rafe's party and she had been trying her absolute hardest to avoid him and his friends; resorting to milling around in the kitchen and the array of unnecessary rooms scattered around the first floor of the house.

One room in particular that drew her attention the most was a room that she could only assume was for guests. It was a smaller bedroom in comparison to the others but it had an ensuite and a small balcony that overlooked the ocean, providing an etheral view of the coast of Kildare island.

The walls were adorned with beautiful paintings. Paintings of ships and planes, of islands that seemed untouched; unexplored. Josie ran her fingertips gently over the hard metal frames, the intricate patterns and bumps made her fingers jitter slowly as she did so.

It was as if the room was a portal to another realm, as if he heavy energy of the Cameron house vaporised as soon as your foot crossed the threshold. She wanted to stay for a while, to escape the drunk teens and bask in the comfort, the homeliness and familiarity that she felt there.

So, she sat down on a chair in the corner of the room, a bottle of some expensive wine in her hand as she sipped and absentmindedly tapped her foot on the hard tiled floor in rhythm with the beat of the music that could still be heard clearly through the walls.

John B and the other pogues were nowhere to be seen, likely meaning that their plans were derailed or they simply ditched JJ's plan entirely without telling her... Like usual.

Ever since their father had gone missing... died ... John B had become enthralled with the idea that he was still out there somewhere - unable to come home - worrying about his children. And when Josie didn't show the same concern and urgency, he retaliated by distancing himself from his older sister.

At first it was small gestures that showed his distaste for her unconcerned demeanor; he wouldn't speak to her for hours, sometimes days. Then, the teen's anger translated into him subconsciously trying to remove every single trace of her from his friendship circle. He wanted to punish her for not feeling the same way about the whole situation, for moving on with her life and continuing life as normal because for some reason, he couldn't.

But what the frustrated boy didn't understand was that Josie had to grow up a lot quicker than him. Nine months may not seem like a great deal, but when their mother abandoned them and ran off to frolic around Colorado without so much as a second thought about her family, four year old Josie was thrust into reality. She realised at a young age, that relationships are fragile. That not only did her and her brother have to grow up without a mother, but their father had to navigate life as a single dad for the first time. (Something he didn't particularly excel at)

By the age of Nine, Josie Routledge was practically a mother. She would wake up hours before everyone else and clean. She would cook dinner and make sure that her brother had lunch every day before dragging him out of bed. She comforted him when he was taunted by the kook kids at school or when he had night terrors and climbed into her bed at ungodly hours of the morning. She sacrificed her childhood so that her brother could have his.

Big John didn't do much. Sure, he loved his children; in his own warped kind of way, but he was so caught up in his undying greed and hunger for more, that he failed as a father in Josie's eyes. He was never there for her recitals or parent teacher days. He was never there for her brother unless he had to be and that was why Josie was almost relieved when he decided to go off sailing in search for the stupid 'treasure' he always gushed about. It was why she didn't shut down from the grief of his disappearance; nothing changed for her, she continued her same routine every single day. The only difference was that her father actually had a reason to not be there.

The brunette girl was so deep on thought that she didn't realise the bottle of wine in her hand was empty until she brought the rim up to her lips and nothing came out.

"You know...."

Josie looked up from the floor too fast, dizziness impaired her vision for a few moments before she could decipher who the oddly familiar voice belonged to.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to realise that you've been trying to drink from an empty bottle."

His voice was deep and gravely, the tone; a dead giveaway that the man was drunk.

She didn't speak until the spinning in her head came to a halt, her eyes fluttered open and landed on him.

Rafe stood at the doorway with an undecipherable expression.

"Well it was about ten minutes... If you were... are curious." The words that flurried from his mouth were slurred.

Josie's eyebrows knitted together.

"Well I'm not." She placed the empty wine bottle gently onto the floor and moved back on the chair.

"Curious, that is."

There was a long pause, neither of them uttered a word. Josie could practically feel his eyes burning crater sized holes at the side of her face as she stared at one of the paintings on the wall.

"Where's your brother?" Rafe's words fired out in quick concession. "Wherever there's one of you, the others are never too far behind."

She finally looked over at him again with her eyebrows contorted together in confusion and annoyance.

"That's none of your business."

He rolled his eyes at her response and took a few steps closer in her direction.

As he drew nearer, the smell of cologne and whiskey flooded her nostrils. Rafe was still an arm's length away from her but the smell of him was potent enough for it to permeate the room.

"Well," he began, the words that left his mouth were laced with a tone unfamiliar to Josie's ears. "Y'know you're in my house... at my party."

The tension in the room was thick, palpable enough that the brunette girl thought she could almost grab at the air.

Rafe's shoe cladded foot collided with the pale green glass bottle that she had placed on the floor just moments ago.

"And that's my alcohol you're drinking there."

He took a few more steps towards her, almost closing the distance between them entirely, his tall muscular frame was now towering over her with his hand pressed firmly against the wall behind her.

"So I'd fix that attitude."

Rafe rolled his eyes and turned around, he began walking back towards the door but stopped dead in his tracks.

"Why are you here?" He turned back around and let his eyes rake up and down Josie's frame.

"It's a party, who's going to turn down free booze?" Josie exclaimed in an almost deadpanned expression.

The man let out a low chuckle as his eyes fell to the floor momentarily.

"Who said it's free?" He smirked knowingly at Josie before finally turning around and beginning to walk out of the door.

"See ya, Jo"

And with that, he left the room, leaving Josie with nothing but a lingering headache and the faint smell of his cologne.

[pamperedollie]

previous | next

XOXO. જ⁀➴ ONE

. ۫ ꣑ৎ "you look great,"

summary. your mother’s high-society dinner party pulls you into the orbit of the vanderbilt siblings—a tense exchange with drew, an electrifying moment with harris, and a night that takes an unexpected, chaotic turn.

word count. 3.9k

warnings. underage drinking, cheating, language

You trudge into your bedroom, dragging your feet beneath you as your legs burn like fire. Your brain feels foggy, and all you want to do is close your eyes. You flop onto your bed and sigh. You don’t miss this feeling—you hate it, in fact. Today was your first day back at your internship after being on vacation, and you’re now weeks behind on your work. You stayed four hours late today just to catch up.

“Honey, could you help me in here?” your mom calls out from the living room, her voice in a sing-song tone. Could she have chosen a worse time? You feel your soft mattress sinking beneath you, but you force yourself up, trudging toward the door with the weight of the day dragging you down.

As you pass through the kitchen, the conflicting sweet aroma of rich vanilla and the smoky scent of the grill surprisingly pair together nicely, instilling you with a slight sense of calm. All you want is to sit still and enjoy it. But instead, you drag yourself into the living room.

“Why do you always insist on doing these things yourself? You’ll end up hurting yourself again,” you mutter, the words slipping out before you can stop them. You already begin to regret it as your mom turns to glare at you. She’s holding one of her signature curated art pieces—one she only brings out for these dinner parties. She says it “sparks conversation.”

“We’ve been through this! Your father helps cook dinner, and I fix up the house,” she adds, adjusting the frame. “I really don’t even do that much anyway…”

You can’t help but laugh, looking around the penthouse. You observe the meticulously arranged dinner table, the balcony doors slightly ajar letting in a breeze that feels almost intentional. Your father is directing a small army of dessert and dinner caterers around the kitchen, and floral arrangements adorn every corner of the home. You sigh. “Sure, Mom. Whatever you say!”

It may not sound like a typical dinner party, but your mom takes these events very seriously. These so-called dinner parties rarely have a guest list under one hundred people; they are extravagant affairs where the rich and elite fight tooth and nail for the juiciest gossip and the chance to one-up each other with tales of their latest business ventures and lavish vacations. You loathe every second of it and would just stay in your room the entire time if it weren’t for your parents.

But it isn’t all bad.

There’s one frequent guest you can tolerate—barely—Ryan Bennett. She was born into a family of doctors and therapists and raised only by her father. In a world of superficial people, she’s genuinely sweet—the most authentic person you know in a never-ending sea of snakes. She’s mature, which suits her since her father is a behavioral therapist, and she hopes to follow in his footsteps. Ryan is the kind of girl you wish you could be more like—a diamond in a sea of pearls. Although she does have her flaws...

Ryan is impossible to keep up with when it comes to relationships. Once one ends, it’s on to the next. Now, this would be fine if her taste wasn’t exclusively in older men—college students, CEOs; it didn’t matter. As soon as she turned eighteen, she tossed aside anyone her age. 

---

Time slips through your fingers as you sit at your vanity, staring at your reflection for hours, covering every blemish and pimple, applying just enough blush until it looks like you’ve just come back from a romantic walk in the snow. Your dress of choice is gold; it covers you down to your feet and hugs your figure like a glove. Its silk drapes elegantly at your chest. You carefully brush each section of your hair, rolling each strand into perfect curls. The tension in your shoulders aches, but what can you say? You love a flawless blowout.

KNOCK KNOCK

With rollers still clinging to your head and your setting powder baking under your eyes, you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Your parents aren’t knockers; they’re more of the “coming in!” types, barging in without a second thought. But it’s only six; the party hasn’t even started. Panic fills your entire body from head to toe.

“Who is it?” you ask, holding your breath.

“Me, dummy!” a familiar voice calls from the other side of the door. You release a deep sigh of relief and shuffle to the door.

Ryan steps inside, plopping down onto your bed like it’s her own. She looks you up and down. “The invitation said formal wear clubbing,” she jokes, raising an eyebrow as she assesses your outfit.

You glance her up and down as she smooths the hem of her glittery black mini dress. Her stilettos click as she crosses her legs. “Okay…” you tease, eyeing her from head to toe.

“What?” she giggles, unbothered. “I heard the Vanderbilts are coming.”

You laugh, leaning back against your chair. “You going after the dad next?” you remark, knowing full well where this conversation is headed.

“Oh, not yet,” she yawns, stretching her limbs as if she’s just getting started. “I’m saving him until I’m twenty-five and he’s in the middle of a midlife crisis.” You can’t help but laugh at how nonchalantly she says it

“Then who?” you question, leaning back a little more.

“Harris, the oldest,” she replies without hesitation, a gleam in her eyes.

You gasp. Harris? The model child of the Vanderbilt family? Currently studying law at Yale? He’s back?

“Yes, he’s back, staying till winter’s over,” she adds, almost as if she could read your mind—and casually at that. You’re not surprised Ryan would know all this; she’s almost always the first to know when it comes to this stuff. Ryan’s a silent observer of the world around her, and it’s kind of charming how perceptive she is.

A short while later, you get up from your vanity and fall back onto the bed, the weight of it all sinking in. “I’m so tired of it all, Ryan,” you admit without thinking.

She shifts on the bed to face you, looking… concerned. “What’s up?” she asks.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should burden her with the mess that is your life and ruin the mood. But Ryan’s always been the one you could talk to about this stuff; she’s never not been there for you.

“You can tell me anything, Y/N,” she reassures you, smiling softly.

You can’t hold it in anymore. “Well, there’s the internship… I feel like I’m invisible. My boss doesn’t recognize me for anything.” You exhale sharply, looking up, trying to stop the tears from bubbling in your eyes. “Then school—God, I’ve been so worked up from the stress of my internship that I’ve forgotten what’s going on in any of my classes.” You can feel the frustration and exhaustion release from your body.

Ryan’s eyes soften. “Listen, Y/N, this is gonna sound so shitty, but hear me out,” her voice lowers, quieter now. “You’re too humble for your own good. You’re ashamed of your privilege, trying your hardest to get by without it, but—” she laughs, “You have the opportunity to forget about school and really take on fashion fully—but you’d rather try to juggle the two? Trust me when I say so many girls would kill to have something to fall back on if school doesn’t go well.” The weight of her words hits you hard.

You’ve spent so much time hating your wealth and power, wishing it away, but now, in the quiet of your room, you realize how fucking stupid that is.

“I hate how right you are sometimes,” you admit.

You and Ryan finish the final touches of your hair and makeup and head outside the room. The space is crowded, the sounds of expensive chatter and clinking glasses ringing in your ears. You take in the sea of faces you know all too well.

Businessmen who can’t separate work from play, the silver-spooned socialites, trophy wives, and burnout trust-fund kids—including… the worst of them all.

Alexa Esparza, heiress to her family’s billion-dollar hotel chain, and an absolute snake. Then Evan Ortigas, the burnout skater who thinks rolling out of bed qualifies as getting ready. His father owns a massive production company, so Evan never really had to try at life. Damson Sinclair, probably the most genuine out of all of them—he was just so annoyingly rich, his family founded the largest tech company in the world. Surprisingly, Damson never fell back on his wealth; he’s actually a straight-A student and an amazing coder. He’s just shitty by association. Then worst of all, Drew Vanderbilt. The Vanderbilts were all lawyers—like literally every Vanderbilt—hence why they’re such assholes. Drew is the walking embodiment of privilege and arrogance.

All they really did was gossip, party, and… nope, that’s it.

You’ve seen it all before—their reckless antics at almost every event. They’d get high and/or drunk and act like they own the world, making absolute fools of themselves. Once, you caught Evan HOOKING UP in YOUR ROOM. What really gets under your skin most of all is the fact that they thrive on the attention, live for it, really.

Gossip Girl eats this up—the blog that tracks every scandal and ridiculous moment of their lives. You’re proud to say you’ve never made an appearance on the blog, and you intend to keep it that way.

You shuffle around the room, exchanging shallow, substanceless small talk with the guests, swarmed with empty chatter. You can feel your exhaustion creeping back in. All you want is to get away, to breathe for just a moment.

You slip away to the balcony, but of course, Evan is there waiting for you—the burnout, stoner, and skater who thinks he’s God’s gift to everyone. “You look pretty,” his eyes scanning you like a piece of meat.

You sigh. “Save it for your girlfriend, Evan.” You brush him aside, but he doesn’t falter, grabbing your arm before you can get away. “Can’t I give a compliment?” he asks, flashing a predatory smile.

You snatch your arm back, repulsed. “Not when your girlfriend is in there sitting alone. You’re such an asshole.” His smug expression fades, and he backs off, returning to the party.

Just as you start to find solace in the bustling space, a voice breaks the silence. You turn to see Drew Vanderbilt, all 6’2” of him.

Great…

As he walks toward the edge of the balcony, you notice he’s on the phone. “Are you fucking serious? Dad’s waiting on you, and so is Lila. You can’t just put that on me!” His voice is sharp and strained, and he gives you a polite nod, barely acknowledging your existence before returning to his argument.

“Could you just leave your work behind for one night and be with your family?” His voice rises, making you feel like an intruder on something personal.

You stand frozen for a moment, hearing him argue into his phone, his brow furrowed and jaw tight. For the first time, you feel a flicker of empathy for Drew Vanderbilt—but then you immediately withdraw it. Taking a deep breath, you know it’s time to exit the situation.

You step back into the party, the heat of the room overwhelming from the sheer number of people. You grab a cold glass of champagne from a passing waiter, the bubbles tickling your throat as you slowly take a sip. Finding a quiet corner to sit alone, you let the chaos whirl around you. Your eyes begin to wander—Alexa and Damson trying to sneakily hit their vapes (it’s painfully obvious), Evan getting touchy with his girlfriend in the corner—a reminder to lock your bedroom door later.

Then your eyes land on her: Lila Vanderbilt, the youngest of the family. You’ve always thought she was sweet, and it’s hard not to feel sympathy seeing her sitting alone with her head down.

You decide to go over and keep her company. After all, you share a bit of history from being on the student council together. You’re sort of friends?

“Hey, how are you?” you place a hand gently on her shoulder, trying to grab her attention. She looks up, her face brightening when she recognizes you, a warm smile spreading across her face.

“I’m great!” she says, standing up. “How are you? Oh my gosh, we haven’t spoken in forever,” she asks, her voice filled with genuine kindness.

“I’m good, just waiting for this party to be over,” you reply sarcastically, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

Lila giggles. “Right? I had to come straight from practice. I got ready in the locker room. I’m so exhausted!”

You share a chuckle, bonding over the shared annoyance of these events. It’s nice having someone to talk to who gets it.

You chat for a while, catching up, talking about everything from school to how obvious Alexa and Damson are being. You almost forget where you are in the midst of the conversation.

But then, you hear a deep, husky voice that brings you back to reality. “You missed me?” There he is—Harris Vanderbilt. His voice carries such power that it instantly makes the air heavier. Lila’s face lights up as she turns to see her brother, practically jumping to hug him. “You came! Drew said you had to work!” Her excitement is clear. It’s sweet to see.

Harris chuckles. “Thank Drew. He practically called me every name under the sun to get me here.” There’s a slight annoyance in his tone.

So that’s who he was arguing with…

You let out a small chuckle to yourself, accidentally catching Harris’ attention. His gaze lands on you with a familiarity that sends a strange flutter through your chest. Taking a slow sip of champagne, his gaze doesn’t leave you for a second. His smirk grows slightly, as if he knows something you don’t.

You awkwardly laugh and smile, avoiding direct eye contact. Then he breaks the silence. “Y/N, how are you?” His deep voice is smooth as he extends his hand to you. You stare at it for a second—large, confident, powerful—and place your hand into his, feeling his warmth against yours.

“I’m great, how’s Yale?” you manage, trying your hardest to keep your composure.

“Stressful,” he replies with a slight humor, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “But it’s nice to see you.”

He begins to rub his hands together, as though he’s considering something. His eyes scan you up and down. The look is quick, but it sends a shiver down your spine. You try to ignore the dreadful nervousness creeping in.

“You look great, by the way,” Harris adds, licking his lips. His voice is low and steady, the compliment lingering in the air between you two, making you fumble over your words.

“Thank you,” you respond, nodding rapidly, the smile on your face a little too tightt.

You finally make your way to the bar, desperate for an escape from the intensity of the night. A deep sigh escapes your lips as you bury your face in the cold marble counter. The chill against your forehead is almost comforting, and you try to let go of all the frustration of the evening, wishing you could make sense of it all.

Slowly, you lift your head from the counter and glance back at the party behind you. People are starting to leave, and you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. This night is almost over, and soon, you can retreat to your room.

But just then, your peace is shattered once again by that all-too-familiar presence beside you. You glance to the side and see none other than Drew Vanderbilt—the last person you want to see right now.

Isn’t that enough Vanderbilt for one evening?

He rests his elbows on the bar. “Whiskey on the rocks, please,” Drew mutters to the bartender, looking utterly exhausted and worn out. Before he takes a sip, he lets out a heavy sigh, dropping his head down to face the counter, his posture slumped in a way that makes you wonder if the night has drained him as much as it has drained you.

After a moment, he glances over at you, his eyes narrowing slightly when he notices your worried expression. “Do you need something?” he asks, his voice dripping with his usual attitude.

You cringe. What an asshole.

“You looked like shit, but I forgot—that’s just you!” you shoot back, flashing a dry smile. Without giving him a chance to respond, you grab your champagne and make a beeline for the door, not bothering to look back.

You just need to get out of there.

Hoping for some solitude, you lean against your room door, putting all your weight on it. But as you open the door, you freeze. Your brain takes a second to process what it’s seeing—Ryan and Damson, completely enveloped in each other, kissing on YOUR bed.

You can’t believe it. “Not you, Ryan…” you mutter under your breath, disbelief clouding your thoughts. You step into the room and slam the door behind you. “OUT!” you snap, your voice sharp.

Ryan looks up at you, her eyes wide, clearly caught off guard. After a split second of hesitation, Damson bolts from the room, leaving you and Ryan alone.

Ryan tries to explain herself, her voice frantic. “Wait, don’t hate me, please! I promise there’s a valid reason—”

You pause. You can’t just kick her out without hearing her out. Crossing your arms, you let out a sigh. “Fine, talk,” you say, flopping down onto the edge of your bed.

She crosses her legs, holding a pillow for comfort. “Harris totally rejected me. Like, he wanted nothing to do with me,” she sighs, frustration lacing her words. “I was just upset and needed a rebound.”

You blink, stunned. Harris rejecting… Ryan? That’s hard to fathom. You haven’t heard of someone rejecting her in years; it’s a rare occurrence. Seeing her like this makes your heart ache, especially knowing you weren’t there for her.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur under your breath. But before you can continue, you can’t help but ask, unable to suppress your grin. “But Damson?”

You both burst into laughter at the sheer absurdity of the situation. For a moment, the chaos of the night fades, and you share a brief moment of calm together.

But, of course, nothing lasts.

BZZZ, BZZZ

You both pull out your phones at the same time. The sound of a notification echoes in the now silent room. You look at your phone—and for a second, your heart stops.

to be continued…

[cruelangelshalo]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 - 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬

ᥫ᭡ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬. 𝐀𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐉, 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝐤

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐈'𝐦 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 :). 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐈 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝. 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐨𝟑 <𝟑

Golden was the chandelier that casted gleam over Lainey’s face, drowning the main room of the Beckett estate in a dim haze, in an almost dreamlike manner. The faint warm light made Lainey’s auburn hair look almost copper, mirroring the striking image of Victoria Beckett, her mother, back when she was younger.

The room, ornamented with marble finery and subtle specks of gold, was swarmed with bodies —mostly friends and associates of Harold Beckett, a renowned businessman with ties to almost every important family on Kildare Island. Owners of a vast empire of properties across Figure 8, the Beckett family was the epitome of old money, a legacy deeply engraved into the island’s history.

Lainey scanned the room, taking in the familiar faces of the guests that were scattered around the room, exchanging pleasantries with her father, their faces adorned with picture perfect smiles. As she adjusted the strap of her dress, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the grand mirror that was postured across the room.

With her lustrous long hair, neatly styled in a classy low bun, and a silky cocktail dress hugging her figure, Lainey was Kook through and through. She was the image of grace, always smiling, always polite. She was the perfect daughter born to a perfect family.

A warm hand closed around her shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned to find her mother giving her one of her magazine smiles, the kind that always seemed too perfect to be real. “Elaine, darling”, she said with a soft voice. “Your father wants you to meet the Prescotts”.

Victoria Beckett radiated an aura of elegance—always pristine, always composed. As one of three daughters born to a prestigious family, she was the image of flawless, her reputation as polished as the fine jewelry that adorned her neck. Lainey was always her reflection, forced to walk under her shadow. She had to bend in order to fit into the mold that the Beckett last name had imposed upon her.

The slightest slip-up could tarnish the reputation they’d spent generations building. Lainey’s identity had been shaped by the weight of these expectations, the constant pressure to be the best, to live up to her parents’ lofty ideals.

Lainey forced a smile at her mother, but the gesture felt foreign, as she suddenly noticed a hollow pit in her stomach, a void that only grew deeper with every fake smile and empty laugh, a reminder that she was merely an illusion of what her parents wanted her to be.

The authenticity she once held onto was slipping through her fingers, leaving her unsure of who she truly was. Despite this, she ignored the feeling of emptiness that kept growing in her stomach as she made her way to the spot where her father was charming the Prescotts.

As Lainey stood by her father’s side, she smiled at the comments made by the Prescott patriarch, though she had already forgotten his name. In her mind, he was simply "the Fat Prescott." His eldest son, or "the Thin Prescott," was about 28—around the same age Lainey’s older brother, Ethan, would have been, had he still been alive.

Yet, unlike what she imagined her brother might have been like, Thin Prescott was fully absorbed in his father’s company and kept offering dull, monotonous remarks. Lainey found herself tuning out, her thoughts drifting to the brother she never got to know.

Right when his father was about to shake hands with Fat Prescott, a familiar figure approached with a friendly smile. It was none other than Ward Cameron, King of Kooks, the most important businessman in Kildare and a long time associate and colleague of Harold Beckett. Lainey’s gaze wandered to Mr. Cameron, only to fixate on the silhouette that trailed right behind him. A silhouette recognized instantly.

Tall and broad-shouldered, with his sandy hair carefully styled, he adjusted a faint crease in his otherwise immaculate dress shirt. His gaze lingered on Lainey for just a moment too long, his expression settling into that familiar, unreadable sternness she remembered all too well.

At the sight of him, Lainey’s heart stilled in her chest—one beat, maybe two—before the growing pit in her stomach returned, heavier than before. It had been a long time since she had last seen him—the eldest son of the Cameron family.

“Rafe!” Her father’s voice pulled her sharply back to reality. Harold Beckett stretched out a hand, which the Cameron boy clasped firmly, confidence etched into his easy smile. “Mr. Beckett, long time no see,” Rafe said, his tone smooth and effortless. Then, turning to Lainey, he offered nothing more than a brief nod of acknowledgment, his expression unreadable as ever.

Ward Cameron stepped forward next, greeting Lainey with a warm smile before pulling her into a light embrace. “Lainey, how are you?” he asked kindly, releasing her with a pat on her shoulder. “We miss having you around.”

The words struck harder than she expected, the knot in her throat tightening as she forced herself to hold his gaze. “Sarah misses you too,” Ward added, his tone laced with gentle sympathy. Before Lainey could form a response, her father chimed in with practiced charm. “Ah, we miss Sarah as well. Such a joy to have around.”

As the two men partook in small talk, Lainey’s attention drifted to Rafe. He stood just a few feet away, yet he might as well have been miles apart. He didn’t spare her a glance, his focus fixed on the conversation, occasionally offering a laugh at a witty remark but otherwise keeping to himself. He was a mystery to her—an enigma wrapped in familiarity—despite once knowing him better than most.

[reachedrafe]

The edge of the island

Summary : On a summer night in the Outer Banks, you find yourself caught in a dangerously seductive encounter with Rafe Cameron, where desire and danger collide.

Warnings : Sexual content (no actual smut!), Power dynamics, Kinda dark themes, Very mild aggressive behaviour in interactions

This is my first post so let's be nice please! 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

The air in the Outer Banks was definitely not thin, the opposite at that. It was thick with the scent of saltwater and wild jasmine, mingling together as the summer sun began to slowly set. The parties on the island were infamous and tonight was no different. The sound of laughter, giggles, glasses clinking and music echoed through the night as you found yourself wandering towards the darker side of the beach, away from the bonfires and revelry.

You weren't sure why you had come. Something about the night felt weirdly different, a pull you couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was the whispers you had heard, the one about the pouges and the Cameron's. The island was full of stories, but none were as exciting, as dangerous, as the ones surrounding Rafe Cameron.

The Cameron estate loomed in the distance, half hidden behind the tall palms and thick foliage, but you knew the path well. You had been there before-many times, in fact. But tonight the mansion felt more ominous, as though it was holding its breath, waiting for something. Or someone.

"Looking for something?" a voice drawled from behind you, sending a shiver down your spine.

You turned, your breath hitching as you came face to face with the man himself. Rafe Cameron. His blond hair was slightly tousled, and there was the signature smirk tugging at his lips, the one that made your heart race in equal parts fear and excitement. His eyes dark and hooded, raked over you with an intensity that made your knees weak.

"I think I found it" you breathed out, your voice steady, though you could feel the wild fluttering in your chest.

Rafe's smirk deepend, a wicked glint sparkling in his eyes as he stepped closer, his body heat radiating into the space between you. "You sure about that?" he murmured, his voice low, the words laced with a seductive challenge.

Before you could answer, his hand was on your waist, pulling you against him. Sudden contact stole your breath, your body molding to his as if you'd been here a thousand times before. His touch was firm, possessive, the heat of his skin searing through the thin fabric of your dress.

"Rafe," you whispered, the sound of his name on your lips feeling both like a prayer and curse.

He dipped his head, his lips ghosting over your neck, just enough to make you shiver. "You've been playing this game for a while now," he said, his voice rough and dark, each word sending sparks down your spine "but do you even know the rules?"

Your breath hitched as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin just under your ear, his hand sliding lower, fingers pressing into the small of your back. "Maybe I don't care about the rules," you manage to say, your voice trembling with a mixture of defiance and desire.

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, vibrating through you. "That's were it gets interesting," he murmured, his lips brushes against yours in a tantalising tease that left you aching for more.

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and electric, as if the very night was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Rafe's hand moved with a slow deliberate intent, each touch a promise of something more, something darker. His lips finally met yours, not with the soft, tentative pressure of a first kiss, but with a raw, hungry intensity that sent shockwaves through your whole body.

He kissed you like he was claiming you, like you were a prize he had been hunting, and now that he had you, he wasn't letting go. His hands roamed your body, exploring with a kind of urgency that matched the wild rhythm of your heartbeat.

As his mouth moved against yours, his hands slid up your thighs, his fingers trailing heat in there wake. The darkness of the night closed in around you, the world shrinking down to just the two of you, to feel his body pressed against yours, the taste of him on your lips.

Rafe pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his breath ragged. "Tell me you want this," he demanded, his voice low and rough, the words sending a thrill of anticipation through you.

Your answer was immediate with no hesitation, "I want this" you breathed, your voice heavy with the same dark desire that mirrored in his eyes.

His lips crashed against yours once more, the kiss deeper, more intense, as if your words had unleashed something in him. And on that moment, nothing else mattered, not the whispers, not the danger, not the darkness that surrounded him. All that mattered was the way he made you feel, the way he was unravelling you with every touch, every kiss pushing you closer to the edge of something thrillingly unknown.