#for the soft!rafe lovers

[princessbrunette]

Omg can u write a little blurb about the rafe saying something heartfelt to reader and she like puts his hand on her chest for him to be able to feel her heartbeat and he is just like 😍😍😍😍

‧₊˚���✩ ₊˚🎀⊹♡

rafe wasn’t used to being soft. not with anyone, until you. he didn’t smile at babies in public, didn’t chuckle adoringly when dogs would run up to him and sniff his leg, his cherub faced younger sisters even received the brute of his sarcasm instead of his older-brotherly love. why would he be soft? he always thought — he didn’t get that same grace from anyone, people had been tough on him since birth, so why should he act that way?

he wouldn’t say he was soft now, but he had his moments — like where he currently stood, directly infront of you on the balcony of tannyhill in the sunset, telling you words he didn’t think he’d ever say. “nah, i’m like… really, really in love with you. like, if you ever left — man, i-i don’t know what i’d do. i need you.” he’s sincere, large warm hands bracketing your smiling cheeks as you stare up at him. the romantic setting is only making things worse for him, the billowing curtains and the warm orange lighting making you glow differently. your eyes get all teary eyed and he almost draws the line, nearly wants to back away and tell you to quit with the sappy shit and act like it never happened.

you say nothing, smaller hand sliding over his own before tugging it downward until his palm rested over your chest. you press his hand down, keeping it resting over his as he blinks in confusion.

“can you feel that?” you smile, all quiet and excited the same way pregnant ladies do when they ask if you wanna feel the baby kick. he tunes into the feeling in his hand, becoming aware of the way your heart is hammering in your chest — so hard and fast he think it might burst out.

“shit, s’beating real fast.” he blows out a chuckle for relief and you giggle, more beautiful each time your smile widens and it knocks the air out of his lungs.

“yeah. that’s… how i feel. ‘cos i really love you too.” you’re all doe eyed in your confession, staring through fanned out eye lashes and glassy scleras. now he feels like he wants to cry, and he’s really gotta man up. he gently tugs his hand away, pushing them through his hair as he lets out a little laugh.

“aha, aw.” he sniffs, and it’s clear he’s trying to pull himself together.

“no kiss?” you tease, trying to ease the moment for your boyfriend who clearly struggled with the harder emotions.

“duh, got plenty of those.” he returns your jokey tone, relieved by the switch of atmosphere. he tugs you against him with an arm around your waist, pinching your chin with the other hand to kiss you, with lots of tongue and lots of love.

‧₊˚🍬✩ ₊˚🎀⊹♡

[chaos-mybeloved]

Just a soft Rafe Cameron drabble

“Why are you being nice, Rafe Cameron?” you ask. He is currently on his knees in the middle of the sidewalk picking up the books he made you drop. You had bumped into a firm chest on your way out of the bookstore and you had lost your grip; the contents of your recent purchase spreading out on the ground. Rafe had taken one look down at you and suddenly he was mumbling out apologies and dropping to one knee. He had all your books back in the bag before you could even think to bend down and grab them yourself. 

“What do you mean? I’m always nice,” he replies. You raise an eyebrow at him but take the bag from his outstretched hand nonetheless. “Well,” he continues, “I’m always nice to you.”

You want to laugh because it's true. Everyone on this island has been on the receiving end of Rafe Cameron’s temper before, but never you. Maybe being neighbours for your entire life afforded you some privileges no one else has. 

“You’re right, thank you, Rafe,” you smile at him. He ducks his head, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck. You can see the blush spreading across his cheeks but you choose to ignore it.  You move to step around him but he grabs your arm. You stop, waiting, but he just stares at you.

“Rafe?”

“Shit, sorry, uhh, I just wanted to apologize for missing your birthday last weekend. The boys wanted an excuse to drink and then Barry came over and it turned into this big thing and—”

“Rafe,” you interrupt, “you don’t owe me an explanation. I didn’t even think you remembered my birthday.”

“We used to always spend it together, remember?” 

Of course, you remember. How could you forget beach days with Rafe on your birthday, the only time he ever surfed with you? Or trips to the mainland just for that one ice cream parlour you mentioned you liked? Most of the jewelry you’re wearing right now came from a birthday gift from Rafe. You could never forget. 

“I remember, but that was a long time ago. We’re not really those kids anymore, are we?” 

“Shit, yea, yea, you’re right. But—” he lets out a sharp breath “—what if I want to be those kids again?” 

You sigh, “Rafe.”

“Come on, I gave you space and time like you said you needed. Just give me a chance. I can be good. I know, okay, I know you’ve heard the rumours and stuff about me but I’m not really like that. You know me.”  He steps closer until you have to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact. You remember when the two of you were the same height. Sometimes, you want to go back to those days. The days when he wasn’t Rafe Cameron, kook prince. Days when he was just a boy and you were just a girl. 

“Fine,  just one date.”

[cameronswiftie]

annie's masterlist

"hold on to the memories, they will hold onto you"

welcome, love!

i'm annie, nice to meet you! im an 18 year old beach loving, curly haired august leo🧿

hope you have good time here! i love everything enemies to lovers, taylor swift, romance books, spirituality and certain fictional boys ;) feel free to send in any thought, question or brainrot about any of these things

no hate (sexual orientation, religion, race, gender) will be tolerated on this page! this is a safe space, we fangirl over stuff and support each other <333

currently no age restrictions to my blog, as i only write pg 13 fics while i explore my writing, but that might change overtime :>

💌💌💌💌

masterlist

spotify playlists

my tags

💌💌💌💌

"and i sound like an infant, feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen"

[fionaswifeyy]

for the rafe and Sofia request i don’t mind what you come up with, I’m sure it will be amazing!! Also the instastories of them was so cuteee!! love love love it!!!🥹🥹

i love that u guys love this 😭😭

HERE IT IS!!!! MY FIRST BORN OF 'EM!!!

cautions: adult language, mention of human fluids and body parts, Sofia a little drunk

𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐

Rafe entered the house he shares with Sofia, closing the door behind him.

Listen to music that comes from the kitchen, Mexican music, Selena y los Dinos, she was wearing a rafe t-shirt while preparing dinner, Sofia's favorite food, pasta with hot chili cream.

Rafe was amazed by the sight he had of her dancing, singing and having fun while using a microphone spoon. He came up to where she was from behind, making sure she heard his determined steps and joined her unruly dance, taking her by the hips and bringing his mouth close to her ear.

"hey babe" he said in a low, husky voice, knowing it drives her crazy. She leaned her head back into the crook of his neck, loving the contact of his strong hands with the bucking of his hips.

"hi honeyyyy" did she sound a little... drunk?

"Are you drunk, love?" He looked at the counter and saw the bottle of sweet white wine half full and his glass almost empty. "juuust a little biit" she said in a joking and drunken voice.

"what's the occasion?" Rafe knew that Sofia didn't drink just because, it had to be a very good situation or a very bad situation to put his girl into drinking unless it was a special occasion.

"I just had the best day of my life!" She told him, turning around and putting her arms on his shoulders, pulling him closer to her, bumping noses, they shared a kiss and then she gave him the cutest drunk smile ever.

"yea? tell me 'bout that, babe" he told her grabbing her waist, sofia put her mouth close to rafe's and said "dance with me", rafe grabbed her waist tighter and they danced to sofia's rhythm, they concluded the song with a kiss slow and sensual "I love dancing with you, bonita" he told her, demonstrating his skills in basic Spanish that she taught him with great effort "hey, you learned very quickly!" Sofia smiled and kissed his cheek lovingly. She moved away from him to check on the pasta, turning it off to strain it and serve it with the sauce. "lovey, could you set the table, please?" Sofia asked "yes babe."

While Rafe was putting the dishes he asked "You didn't tell me what made you so excited" he turned to look at her smiling "my boss promoted me" Sofia had the biggest smile ever on her cheek, and Rafe couldn't be happier for her, knowing all the effort she put into it. She does day by day at the tourist company she loves "babe that's awesome!" Rafe screamed, he lifted her in the air and spun her around, when he put her down he gave her a good kiss, becoming passionate, Rafe supported Sofia on the counter chairs, lifting her up and putting her on the counter, he moved his hands to her waist and then lowered her down. a little more, to her ass and pushing with his hands towards him, now making his erection noticeable against her panties.

"why don't we take this upstairs?" He said and in fact it was a rhetorical question, he was already on his way to the room, Sofia grumbled a little, separating herself from Rafe's kiss to complain "but my pasta with cream is good, honey" "oh yeah I know, but I want to try another cream right now."

A long night awaited her

[aliyahwritings]

ARE YOU JEALOUS?

Summary: Sassy!Kook!Reader gets jealous when she sees Rafe Cameron close with another girl...

Content: neck sucking (?), childhood friends to lovers, kind of mean!rafe in one scene, bullying lol, suggestive towards the end but just a tiny bit.

Words Count: 5.5k ... i don't know what the fuck happened...

Aliyah's talking: IDK if i fw this or not but i hope yall will lolz <3 Thank you so much for the love on Protective Instincts btw!!!! I am so grateful and surprised that many of you all enjoyed it. Hope u'll enjoy this one too 🩷

Sunlight streamed into Sarah’s room, casting a soft, golden glow over the space as you lounged on her bed, idly flipping through a magazine. You both were sprawled across the plush, yellow covers, surrounded by half-empty bags of chips and scattered makeup palettes—evidence of an afternoon well spent. Sarah was perched by the vanity, trying on different lip glosses, all of which looked beautiful on her, but she insisted on which one was the best.

“So, tell me again,” she started, holding up a tube of shimmery pink gloss and squinting at it thoughtfully. “Why don’t you go for Jake? I mean, he’s cute, he’s smart—”

“And boring. He is boring,” you interjected, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “Come on, Sarah, you know how I am. I need someone with a little more… edge…? Someone that could handle me but also play the game, you know?”

Sarah smirked, setting the lip gloss down and turning to face you. “Edge… Handling your attitude… I’m afraid that weirdly sounds like someone we both know.”

“You think you’re so funny, huh?” you said, shooting her a mock glare.

She laughed, completely unbothered. "What? I’m just stating the facts!" She shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "As much as I hate to admit it, my brother definitely fits both criteria, so…”

You were listening to her but stopped when your phone buzzed. Out of habit, you unlocked it and opened the notification from Instagram; Topper posted a new story and you watched it. The screen was filled with a shaky video of the beach, the late afternoon sun casting golden light over everything. You recognized some people, but your attention zeroed in on Rafe, right in the center of it all. He was grinning, his arm slung around a girl who was laughing and pulling him closer, like they were the only two people on the beach. 

You felt a quick, unwelcome pang in your chest.

“Hey, what’s got you so interested?” Sarah’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you glanced back at her, masking any hint of emotion with a casual smirk.

You locked the screen and tossed the phone aside. “Nothing. Just Topper’s beach parties and Instagram stories.”

She gave you a skeptical look, folding her arms. “Don’t lie to me. I know you better than yourself, what did you see in that story, Y/N?”

You hesitated, but then shrugged, trying to play it off. “Rafe was at the party with some girl. A new girl. It’s not a big deal.”

“Ah, I see,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “You know he’s always messing around with someone new. But… I thought you didn’t care about what he was up to.”

“I don’t,” you said, a bit too quickly, crossing your arms. “He can do whatever the hell he wants.”

“Right. So, you don’t care at all?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “Look, I just don’t get what’s so special about him that girls keep falling over themselves to be around him. That’s all.”

She nodded with a giggle. “Yeah, no, I definitely—”

“And doesn’t it bother anyone that he’s got a new girl every week? I mean, if I were one of those girls who actually liked him, I’d be furious. Wouldn’t you, Sar?” You barely paused before continuing, not even waiting for her answer. “It’s honestly just sad because Rafe really isn’t even all that. Sure, he can be fun and nice sometimes, but he’s also a huge asshole with a big fucking ego. Is it just me, or is everyone blind to that?”

Sarah was quiet for a moment, studying you with a thoughtful expression before she finally spoke up. “You know what? I think we could both use a break from overthinking anything about the opposite sex. How about we get out of here and grab some smoothies? I heard there’s a new spot by the marina.”

You nodded, grateful that she didn’t talk about your little moment. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Sarah grabbed her bag, giving you one last teasing smile. “Smoothies and maybe some retail therapy afterward?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you replied, letting the idea of a carefree afternoon replace the lingering thoughts of Rafe. Whatever he was up to, it was his business. You weren’t about to let it ruin your day.

The soft hum of the fridge and the rhythmic clinking of silverware filled the kitchen as you, Sarah, and Rafe gathered around the island, your weekly routine as ingrained as the family photos lining the walls. The night was settling in, casting a cozy stillness over the room. You were only half-listening as Sarah rambled on about her weekend plans, your attention instead focused on pushing pasta around on your plate, not particularly hungry.

Rafe sat across the counter, leaning back in his chair with an ease that always seemed to irritate you. He had been quiet, too but you knew he wouldn’t last long. Sure enough, he broke the silence.

“Alright,” he began, raising an eyebrow at you, “what’s up with you tonight? You’re awfully quiet.”

You didn’t look up, keeping your tone purposefully casual. “Nothing’s up,” you replied, hoping he’d let it go. But you knew better.

“Come on,” he pressed, tilting his head in that infuriatingly smug way. “Where’s that feisty attitude you always have? Usually, by now, you’d have already made at least five smartass comments about my shirt or something.”

You let out a short, unimpressed laugh, finally meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe I just ran out of things to say about you, Rafael. Ever think of that?”

He grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Nah. You’ve got an endless supply of attitude, Y/N. I’d be shocked if you were ever actually out of material.” He took a sip from his glass, watching you over the rim with that familiar, infuriating smirk.

Sarah shot you a look, her mouth twisted in a tired smile as she mouthed, here we go. She had seen this routine a thousand times before.

“You really think I spend that much time thinking about you?” you fired back, folding your arms over your chest and fixing him with an unimpressed stare.

“Oh, I don’t think,” he replied smoothly, leaning in a little closer, “I know. Admit it. I’m in your head, aren’t I?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back in your chair as you tossed him an indifferent look. “Right. You’re the center of my world, Rafe. Can’t you tell?”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “You know, when you’re this quiet, it’s like a fucking flashing neon sign saying, ‘Something’s up’. Might as well tell me now.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew that engaging with him like this was a slippery slope—once you started, he never let up. But for some reason, tonight, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Honestly, I don’t have the energy for your little mind games tonight,” you said, trying to sound as bored as possible. “So, if you’re expecting me to entertain you, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

“Oh, come on. I don’t believe that for a second,” he shot back, leaning back casually in his chair as if he had all the time in the world to wear you down. “You love this. Sparring with me? It’s basically your favorite hobby.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Didn’t realize my silence was such a tragedy for you.”

“Oh, it is. I mean, where else am I supposed to get my daily dose of attitude?” He leaned back, feigning a pout. “Come on, you’re no fun like this. Did something happen?”

You rolled your eyes, twirling your fork in the pasta as if it held your entire focus. “Why would you care? I’m sure you have more important things to worry about. Maybe more girl—”

Sarah let out a sigh, interrupting before Rafe could respond. “Honestly, do you two ever get tired of this? We’re supposed to be having dinner, and it feels like I’m watching some sort of weird rom-com.”

You shot Sarah an exasperated look. “There’s nothing romantic about this, Sar. It’s called surviving.”

“Right,” Sarah said, clearly unconvinced. “But could you maybe survive without the constant bickering? Just once?”

Rafe smirked, clearly unfazed by Sarah’s comment as he turned back to you. “I don’t know. I think she secretly enjoys it. You should see how she lights up when she gets going.”

“Fuck off,” you muttered, taking a long sip from your glass and hoping it would mask the heat you could feel rising in your cheeks.

He watched you with an amused glint in his eye, clearly picking up on your discomfort. “A little defensive, aren’t we? I mean, I’m just stating the obvious here. You’ve been on edge all night. Care to share with the class what’s really bothering you?”

You set your glass down with a little more force than necessary, fixing him with a glare. “You really think everything’s about you, don’t you?”

“Not everything,” he replied, shrugging casually. “Just the things that involve you. Because, for some reason, every time you’re in a mood, it usually has something to do with me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but then closed it again, unsure of how to respond without giving anything away. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hit a nerve, even if he had.

“What’s the matter, princess?” he continued, pushing his plate aside as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did something happen between you and Jake, huh? I thought you two were casually talk—”

You groaned, frustrated that he’d brought Jake into it. “There’s nothing to say about Jake. I’m just tired, okay? Not everything has to be about some guy.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Rafe replied, his tone laced with a hint of smugness. “But I’d say you’re a little more…on edge than usual. So, it has to be about that guy, right…”

“Jake’s got nothing to do with this,” you said, your tone steady. “Unlike you, he actually knows how to mind his own business.”

Well, you’re just lying because you’ve never taken the time to actually learn about Jake and what type of person he was. As bitchy as it sounded, you were using him as a distraction.

You stared at him, hoping your silence would be enough to make him drop it. But, of course, he didn’t.

Rafe crossed his arms as he studied you, his gaze never wavering. “So, you’re saying you prefer a guy who lets you get away with whatever you want, then?”

You scoffed. “No, Rafe. I am saying I prefer a guy who doesn’t feel the need to stick his nose into everything I do. You know, a guy who’s secure enough to let me be without constantly needing to provoke me.”

“Yeah, I see,” he replied, nodding softly. “So, basically, you’re looking for someone boring. Someone who doesn’t challenge you, who just lets you coast by. Am I right?”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “You think you know me so well, don’t you? Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron. I can find someone else to annoy me if I really wanted to.”

Rafe’s eyes darkened, but that infuriating smirk stayed in place, like he thrived on every bit of tension between you. He cocked an eyebrow, leaning forward, his voice a low, taunting whisper. “Oh yeah? Who, exactly? Jake? He’s perfect for you—goody-two-shoes, never steps out of the fucking line. Because, let’s be honest, you’d crush him. He’d never call you out, never push you.” He paused, and there was a bitterness beneath his words, hidden but unmistakable. “He’d be safe.”

A bitter smile twisted your lips, the pain creeping into your voice despite your best efforts. “At least Jake knows how to be respectful. He wouldn’t stoop to tearing me down just to get a rise. He wouldn’t need to.”

Rafe scoffed, his amusement tinged with a hint of anger. “Respectful? Fuck that. You want someone to play nice and tell you what you want to hear, go right ahead. But I think we both know that’s not what you really want.” He took a step closer, his gaze fierce, challenging. “You think I’m the bad guy because I’m not afraid to tell you the truth. I don’t play pretend. I’m not here to tell you sweet lies—I’d rather see who you really are, even if that means pissing you off.”

You narrowed your eyes, fury blazing in your chest. He was looking right at you, like he could see through every layer you tried so hard to put up. But there was something deeper in his gaze, a flicker of something that made your heart race even as anger burned within you. And you hated that he could do that—make you feel so exposed, so raw, yet so alive all at once.

But to him, this was just another game. He thrived on your frustration, on the way he could get under your skin with just a few well-placed words. It was a twisted power play, a battle neither of you were willing to lose. And for a moment, the air between you was charged, almost electrifying, the tension so thick it was nearly suffocating. 

You wanted to hate him, but a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he was right—if he really did see through to the parts of you that no one else dared to touch.

But that only made you angrier, and you felt a surge of resentment rise within you, pushing you over the edge. With a sudden flash of fury, you slammed your fists onto the table, the sound echoing through the room, your voice sharp and cutting. “You know what? Fuck you, Rafe Cameron.”

Without another word, you turned and stormed out.

The sound reverberated through the Cameron household, leaving a heavy silence. Rafe stood there, fists clenched, trying to swallow down the mix of anger and something else—something that felt dangerously close to longing.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at her brother. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Rafe shot her a look, irritation simmering just beneath the surface. “You don’t get it, Sarah. She’s… She’s infuriating.”

But then he hesitated, his gaze drifting toward the door you had just stormed out of. The edge of his lips twitched in a way that was all too vulnerable, too honest. “But there’s something about her,” he admitted, his voice softening. “She’s fierce and passionate. When she’s angry, it’s like she’s alive in a way I can’t help but be drawn to. It’s frustrating, but… but she’s not afraid to challenge me, to call me out.” He paused, searching for the right words, his heart racing.

“And so that makes it right for you to annoy her to that point?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t help it. I want her to see the real me, too. It’s like I can’t breathe when she’s around and then—when she leaves? It’s like the air just… disappears.” He ran a hand through his hair, a mix of confusion and desire etched across his features. “She challenges me in ways I never expected, and it drives me insane, but I can’t help but want more of her.”

“Wow,” Sarah said softly, her voice full of surprise. “I didn’t think I’d see the day Rafe Cameron talked about someone like this—but mess around with her like that one more time, and I’ll hurt you.”

The sun spilled into your bedroom, casting a warm glow that felt inviting. But you stirred, still brimming with the tumult of emotions from last night. Rafe’s words echoed in your mind—his teasing, the way he pushed your buttons, and the way your heart raced despite your annoyance. You groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over your head, hoping to drown out the memories.

But then laughter broke through the haze of your thoughts. It was bright and carefree, drifting in through the open window. Intrigued, you tossed off the blanket and slid out of bed, your curiosity piqued. A quick glance outside revealed the source of the joyful sounds: Sarah, Wheezie, and Rafe were out by the pool, splashing water and playfully throwing each other around.

Rafe, wearing nothing but swim trunks that hung low on his hips, was the centerpiece of the scene, effortlessly drawing your gaze. His tanned skin glimmered, accentuating the muscles that rippled as he dove and surfaced in the water, laughter spilling from his lips, infectious and buoyant.

You caught yourself ogling him, eyes roaming over the way the water dripped from his hair, the way his body moved with ease and confidence. It wasn’t fair, really—how could someone be so effortlessly captivating? The sun caught the edges of his grin as he tossed Wheezie playfully into the pool, the sound of her laughter ringing out like music.

You were lost in the moment, so caught up in the heat of his gaze that you didn’t even notice the way your thighs clenched together, craving the contact that felt just out of reach. All you could think about was the overwhelming desire to touch him—everywhere. You imagined your hands gliding over his toned chest, feeling the hard flex of his biceps beneath your fingertips, tracing the lines of his powerful arms as they wrapped around your body, waist, and ass pulling you closer.

You wanted him. God, did you want him.

Why did he have this effect on you? Why was he constantly invading your thoughts, even now?

A sudden buzz from your phone pulled you from your reverie. You grabbed it from the bedside table and saw a message from Sarah: “Get your ass out here! We’re in the pool, it’s fun! You’ll want to join us!”

A smile tugged at your lips at Sarah's enthusiasm, but a moment of hesitation passed as you remembered the tension of last night. Still, you didn’t want to be the odd one out. With a determined sigh, you pulled yourself away from the window and began to get ready.

You rummaged through your drawers, searching for that one bikini that made you look stunning and earned you a handful of compliments every time you wore it. Finally, you found it: a deep emerald green that contrasted perfectly against your skin tone. It was cut high, accentuating your legs, the top was daring, showing just enough to leave to the imagination. You paired it with a pair of denim shorts.

You headed towards the back door, nerves swirling in your stomach. As you stepped outside, the head of the sun hit you like a wave, and the sounds of laughter grew louder.

“You’re awake!” Sarah exclaimed, her voice bright and cheerful. “I thought we’d have to drag you out here!”

You laughed lightly, feeling a playful energy surge within you. “I’m here, aren’t I?” You shot back, trying to keep your tone light as you made your way toward the pool.

Wheezie exclaimed, eyes wide of admiration. “Wow, Y/N! Look at you!”

“Thanks!” you replied, trying to play it cool but secretly loving the attention. You glanced at Rafe, who had turned to face you, and your heart raced at the sight of him leaning against the pool’s edge, water cascading down his toned body.

His gaze lingered on you, a mix of surprise and appreciation playing across his features. “Well, well, if it isn’t the queen herself,” he teased, that infuriating smirk stretching across his face. “Nice of you to join us.”

You rolled your eyes and turned your back to him, feigning indifference as you busied yourself with anything but him. The events of last night were still fresh in your mind, a heated clash that left you reeling and more than a little irritated. You were determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Oh, so I get the silent treatment?” he drawled, his voice dripping with playful disbelief. “I’m devastated,” he added, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly irresistible smirk that always made your heart flutter.

Instead, you focused on Sarah and Wheezie, who were gleefully splashing water at each other. You couldn’t help but feel the pull of their energy. 

Hours rolled by and you settled onto a lounge chair, you could feel Rafe’s eyes on you, the heat of his gaze igniting your skin in a way that both thrilled and annoyed you. He was still in the pool, looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive. You didn’t know but you were driving him crazy with that attitude of yours, this whole ignoring thing and your fucking bikini. 

Sarah and Wheezie went inside the house to prepare some snacks and drinks for us because we were getting hungry and thirsty, leaving only Rafe and you. 

You pulled your phone, pretending to scroll through social media, anything to distract yourself from the way your heart raced at his presence. A notification lit up your phone, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jake’s name flash across the screen. The excitement surged through you as you opened the message:

"Hey, gorgeous. I really like you, and I’d love to take you out sometime. You in?"

He was cute—way too cute.

A grin crept onto your lips, and for once, you allowed yourself to enjoy the attention from someone who wasn’t toying with your emotions. Someone who actually seemed genuine. No games, no mixed signals. Just interest. The kind that felt refreshing after dealing with someone who never seemed to know what he wanted.

You barely had time to revel in it before Rafe’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and demanding. “What’s got you smiling like that?”

Your grip tightened on your phone instinctively, and you flicked your gaze up to him, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, nothing. Just a friend,” you said, slipping your phone screen down against your thigh.

Rafe wasn’t buying it. His eyes narrowed, skepticism written all over his face. “Just a friend, huh?” His voice had that dangerous edge to it, the one you knew too well. “Funny, you don’t usually smile like that over friends.”

You felt his eyes burning into you, but you refused to give him the satisfaction. “Really? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” you teased, biting back the smirk threatening to break free.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Who was it?”

“Like I said, just a friend,” you repeated, your voice smooth, but now you were teasing on purpose. You could feel his irritation rising, and part of you enjoyed it. “What, are you jealous or something?”

He scoffed, though you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened. “Why the hell would I be jealous?” he snapped, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than you. “I’m just asking a question.”

“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, leaning back and tilting your head, watching him closely. “Right. Just a casual question, huh? Totally doesn’t sound like someone’s jealous.”

His hands were now resting on the edge of the pool, gripping it just a little too tightly. “I’m not jealous,” he repeated, but the way his gaze darted to your phone said otherwise. “But if it’s someone trying to get at you, then yeah, I wanna know. Who is it?”

“Someone,” you said vaguely, enjoying the fact that Rafe was teetering on the edge of losing it. “Someone who’s interested, clearly.”

Rafe’s eyes flared, and the jealousy in his voice became impossible to miss. “Interested in what? You?” His lips curled into a scowl, his muscles tense. “What, you think some random guy’s gonna—”

“Maybe,” you cut in, your smile growing. “Maybe he’s actually straightforward, you know? No mind games, no drama. Just a guy who knows what he wants.”

His brows shot up, the implication stinging. “And you think I don’t know what I want?”

You shrugged, not backing down an inch. “Well, you never seem to make it that clear. Maybe someone else is going to take your place as my—”

The possessiveness in his eyes flared. He pushed himself up out of the pool, water dripping from his shoulders as he moved closer, his presence looming over you. “No one’s stepping up, got it? No one’s taking my place.”

You met his gaze, unflinching, even as your heart raced a little faster. “Oh? And what exactly is your place, Rafe?”

He leaned in, the heat between you practically crackling. “You know damn well where my place is,” he murmured, his voice low, daring, yet with a hint of uncertainty creeping in. “And I’m not about to let some bitch ass slide in because you think I don’t care.”

You smiled, tilting your head, savoring the tension. “Seems like you do care. Maybe more than you want to admit.”

“Because I do care, Y/N,” he murmured softly, swiping his wet thumb across your cheek. “I told you already that I cared way too damn much.”

Rafe’s thumb lingered on your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through your body despite the heat of the day. His eyes held yours, dark and intense, as if he were trying to convey all the words he couldn’t quite say aloud. The air between you was thick, charged with a tension that had been building for far too long.

You swallowed hard, trying to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was a losing battle. “Your way of showing it is fucked, Rafe.”

Your words were meant to cut, but they came out softer than you intended, almost like a challenge. His jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back with some cocky retort, he stepped even closer. The scent of chlorine and his skin invaded your senses, and you couldn’t help but notice how his muscles tensed as he towered over you, dripping with water, his presence commanding.

“I care,” he repeated, his voice lower now, almost a growl. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back to your eyes, like he was making a decision in real time. “I care more than you know.”

Before you could muster a reply, his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, your breath hitching as his lips hovered near your ear. “I think you know exactly what my place is,” he murmured, his voice rough with unspoken desire. “And you’re not running from it.”

His breath was hot against your skin, sending a wave of heat cascading down your spine. He didn’t move right away, as if savoring the tension that crackled between you, the nearness, the inevitability of it all. Your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse quickening as his lips brushed, ever so lightly, against the sensitive spot just below your ear.

You gasped, your hands instinctively gripping the fabric of your shorts as your body reacted to him, heat pooling low in your belly. “Rafe…” you whispered, not quite a protest, but not quite giving in either.

But he wasn’t about to back down now. He shifted closer, his mouth grazing the curve of your neck, soft at first, then firmer, the scrape of his teeth making your pulse race. Your skin ignited under his touch, and a low moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

“You feel that?” he whispered, his lips trailing lower, his voice husky and thick with need. “That’s not some game. That’s real.”

Your body arched toward him of its own accord, your resistance melting as his hands slid down to your waist, fingers pressing firmly into your skin, pulling you closer. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck, his lips teasing, torturing, as they brushed along your collarbone. Every touch, every whisper was setting your nerves alight, and you were dizzy with the intensity of it.

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered, trying to keep a shred of control, but your voice lacked conviction.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Maybe,” he agreed, his lips brushing the spot just beneath your ear again, sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. “But you can’t stop thinking about me, can you?”

You hated how right he was. You hated how easily he could unravel you, how even now, you were leaning into his touch, craving more of it. But there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of hearing it.

“Stop being so cocky,” you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered with the desire that coursed through you.

But Rafe wasn’t in the mood to stop. His hand slid to your lower back, pulling your body flush against his, the coolness of his skin mingling with your own heat. You could feel the hard lines of his body pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling as his lips grazed your shoulder, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin, just enough to make you shudder.

“Admit it,” he murmured against your neck, his voice a deep, rough command. “You want this.”

You closed your eyes, fighting to hold onto your last thread of self-control, but the tension between you was overwhelming, suffocating. His lips moved lower, placing slow, deliberate kisses along your collarbone, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Your breath came in ragged gasps as your body betrayed you, leaning into him, craving the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze, the way he made you feel like the only person in the world.

“Rafe…” you breathed, your voice barely audible, as his hand slid down to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin possessively. You could feel his breath on your neck, his lips hovering just above the place where your pulse raced beneath the surface.

“I want you, Y/N,” he whispered against your skin, his voice raw, filled with the desire that had been simmering between you for what felt like forever. “And I’m not letting anyone else have you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could think better of it, your hands were in his hair, pulling him closer, your body aching for the contact you’d been denying yourself for so long.

Your lips collided with his in a heated rush, all the pent-up tension and desire finally unraveling between you. Rafe’s hands immediately gripped your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as he kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. His lips were demanding, rough and hungry, but there was a softness to the way he held you, like he wanted to savor every second. You melted into him, fingers tangling in his wet hair, feeling the slickness of the pool water on his skin as his body pressed against yours.

The taste of him, mixed with the faint tang of chlorine, was intoxicating. It was all-consuming, drowning out every rational thought. He kissed you like he was staking his claim, like he wanted to erase any trace of doubt from your mind, and for a moment, you let him. Your body responded instinctively, arching against his as his hands roamed down your back, gripping you tighter.

When you finally broke apart, both of you gasping for air, Rafe’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper—something more vulnerable. His chest heaved as he looked at you, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “I like you, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I like you so much it drives me crazy. No more pretending.”

You stared into his eyes, searching for any hint of the cocky facade he usually wore, but it was gone. This was Rafe stripped bare, no teasing, no arrogance—just raw honesty. It made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the kiss.

Your breath caught in your throat as you considered what he was saying. Could you trust him? Could you really let your guard down and give in to this, knowing how easily he could hurt you?

But before you could overthink it, he kissed you again, slower this time, more deliberate. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache, and all your doubts melted away. At that moment, it didn’t matter what had happened before, or what might happen after. All that mattered was how he made you feel right now—wanted, desired, seen.

Rafe pulled back, his thumb brushing gently against your bottom lip, his eyes flicking between yours. “Tell me you feel it too,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost pleading. “Tell me I’m not the only one. Tell me, princess.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. There was no point in pretending anymore. “You’re not,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “You drive me crazy, Rafe, too—I don’t want to feel this way, but I do.”

His lips curved into a small, triumphant smile, but there was relief in his eyes too, like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for you to say it. “Good,” he murmured, his hand cupping your face as his thumb stroked your cheek. “Because I don’t think I can let you go.”

[fictionalmenxyn]

hi can you write rafe x wife. Happily married and have 3 teen kids. Sons friends comes over and talks about mom as milf( idk maybe something else up to u) and Rafe and his wife hear it! Then Rafe f*cks her

of course I can!!

•———•

ఌ𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧ఌ

Pairing: husband!rafe x wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT, language, p in v, fingering, no mentions of protection (be safe, wrap it before u tap it!), breeding kink, dirty talk, possessive/jealous Rafe.

Feel free to send more reqs! Thinking of doing dad!Rafe so send me things you’d like to see! Or more husband!rafe idm! Anything!

🝮🝮🝮

Just getting home from work, you got out of your Range Rover. Collecting your handbag, laptop and some papers from the back seat.

You headed into yours and Rafe’s estate. Walking through the front door. You already knew your three sons had friends over. Your eldest, Cody had asked you over text. You slip your heels off by the door and walk through the large foyer and over to the spacious living room. You smiled as you saw your boys Cody (17), Morgan (16) and Ollie (14 1/2). You spoke “hey boys, you all having fun?” They all said their “heys” and “yeah, thanks”.

You subtly noticed the way their friends eyed you up. Teenage boys never really cared if you saw them checking woman out. Well, these lot didn’t. You looked over to the attached large kitchen, smiling as you see Rafe.

You walked over, putting your things onto the counter. Rafe was leaning forward. His elbows on the counter as he watched the tv from the kitchen as your sons and their friends had soccer on. You walked over to Rafe. Smiling as you put your hand on his back. “Hey, love, you ok?” He turns his head to look at you. His famous grin plastered on his face. “Yeah, all good, how’s work?” He pulls you by the waist. Giving you a soft but firm kiss, showing you how much he missed you since you left this morning. You pull away to answer “good, made some great photos today, all I have to do is change the lighting and tone..” he smiled and pecked your lips “good, can I watch it while you do it?”

Rafe loved what you did. You were a photographer for models, perfume/jewellery commercials or fashion designers. You took the photos and edited them to put on magazines or advertisements. He loved how much you enjoyed your job to.

You nodded “of course, Rafey” he smiled “good girl..” you pecked his cheek.

You sat at the island counter, going through the photos on your laptop. As Rafe leaned against the counter, arms crossed, taking the occasional sip from his drink.

You both overheard Cody and his friend talk. His friend, Jack, asked “dude, is that your older sister or something?” Cody asked “who?” Jack replied “the one that’s in the kitchen with your dad.” Cody shook his head “nah man, that’s my mom.” Jack replied “no fucking way?? She’s so hot, dude, your mom is such a milf, no joke.”

Rafe practically chocked on his drink, as your eyes widen and press your hand to your forehead. A quiet gasp escaped your lips. What did Jack just say? You couldn’t be going mad, Rafe heard the same thing.

Cody spoke “shut up! Don’t say that!” Jack shrugged nonchalantly “dude, I’m just saying, I’d tap that if I could.”

Your eyes widen, Rafe’s jaw clenched. Rafe didn’t need to be and wasn’t jealous… not exactly… he just didn’t like the fact that a seventeen year old friend of your sons had just said that about you… his wife, the mother of his children, his childhood friend, his lover…

Through the rest of the day, Rafe stuck to your side. You’d changed into some sweats and a crop top. Once you were done you both sat on the couch; Rafe next to you. He had his arm around you the whole time. Occasionally kissing your cheek or temple. Showing the boys, your his. He’s the one that put that beautiful diamond ring on your finger. He’s the one that put three beautiful and handsome boys in you. He helped you create life. He’s the one that gives you happiness.

🝮🝮🝮

Soon after, the sun started to set. Your three sons had asked both Rafe and yourself if they could stay the night at one of the boys house. Rafe agreed and told them to be safe and have fun.

As soon as he had shut that front door. You were in for a real treat tonight. Rafe walked back over to the couch. He put his one knee on the seat and he placed a hand on the side of your neck. His cold metal of his rings and watch press gently into your warm neck. He crashes his lips into yours like a starved man. His tongue quick to be shoved into your mouth. You knew what he was up to. You could tell it from the exact moment Cody’s friend said what he said about you.

You knew Rafe since day one, knew him better than he knew himself. So you knew what he was doing. And you were definitely not complaining.

Rafe placed one hand one your thigh and guided you so you laid back on the couch. While he stayed on top of you. He groaned against your lips. He mumbled “‘m gonna make you feel so good, baby” you gasped softly when you feel Rafe’s hips press against yours. He puts his free hand from your thigh, moving it to the waistband of your sweats.

Putting his hand down your sweats he could feel the material of your panties and your soft, wet skin. He groaned “you wearing the black lace ones?” You nodded. He grinned “all f’me…mine” you mumbled “yes, Rafey…”

His fingers slowly move up and down against your heat. You moaned softly. You gasp when you felt his middle finger slip in. He tilted his head and started to kiss along your neck. He groaned, his finger slowly pulling in and out. As he inhaled the sent of your vanilla perfume, he groaned once again. He mumbled against your soft skin “feel so good on my finger, want another, babe?” You nodded. He replied “words. y/n.” You whispered “another, please, Rafe” he slipped his ring finger in. Causing you to gasp softly.

After a few more seconds he pulled his fingers out. You whimpered, he grinned “oh we aren’t done, just wanna take you upstairs… prefer the bed.” Your mouth practically waters as you watch him move his fingers to his mouth. Cleaning you off his digits.

He picks you up, over his shoulder. Taking you upstairs and not wasting anymore time.

Placing you down on the bed, he was quick to take your clothes off. All piece of clothing on the floor. While he starts to take his off, you watched in awe. Your reaction to him will always be the same. It’s like looking at him for the first time, over and over. You never got tired of him. Never have and never will.

You watched as he was swift to remove his boxers. His huge length springing free. He moved onto the bed. His lips go to yours as his hand moves to his length. Pumping it a few times, then lining up with your entrance. You gasp as he started to push in. Once he was all the way in he leaned over you. His chain dangles by your chin. His hands either side of your shoulders. His biceps flex as he looks down at you.

“You’re so pretty under me, sweetheart.” You moaned softly as he slowly started to move in and out. He chuckled lowly “you know, what the boys said… was right..” he groaned. “You are a milf… my milf… such a hot momma, baby… I know you want another… want me to give you one?” You moaned as he picked up the pace a little more. “Words, sweetheart.” You nodded “yes, fuck! Want another…”

He moaned hearing your words, “fuck Y/n, I’ll give you another… I’ll fill you up, make your baby bump come back. Love you baby bumps… every one of them…” you moaned. His one hand moves to your lower stomach, pushing on the bulge on your lower abdomen. Causing you to moan, as he goes deeper.

He picks up his pace, he moaned “fuck, gonna make you pregnant again. Wanna see you with my baby in you again.” He goes harder. “Fuck can feel you round me, that make you excited, baby? Thinking of me getting you pregnant again?”

You nodded, grabbing onto his bicep. Nails digging into his tan skin. He groans at the feeling. He spoke “gonna give ya a girl this time, I wanna girl, so I can spoil you both, yeah? Let you two have the world.” You moan “oh Rafey!” He grinned. “Yeah? Like that?” You nodded. He leaned back. Grabbing your hips, guiding you against him as he thrusts into you.

He can feel your close, “gonna come f’me? Let me have it, sweetheart. You do that f’me and I’ll do it for ya..” you placed your hand on his chest. Then holding his chain. Wanting him closer, he knew you well. He knew that meant you were about to finish. He leaned down. You moaned “fuck, gonna-” “do it, finish over my cock f’me, love…” those words hit you like a brick wall. Every. God. Damn. Time.

And he knew it too.

You moaned one last time, then finishing. Causing you to tighten around him. He chased his realise and finished inside you.

He moaned as he slowed his pace. Still thrusting, just slowing down. Chasing both of your climaxes. Once he came to a spot. You had you usual ‘thank you’. He kissed both cheeks, then your forehead, temples, chin, nose and then your lips. He mumbled against your lips “you ok? Feel good, baby? You did so good..” You nodded “so good.”

He gently pulled out, causing you both to inhale sharply. He gently picked you up. Going ahead and doing your aftercare. For all the time you both knew each other. And past Rafe, with his many hook ups. Not once did he do aftercare. But for you? His childhood friend to girlfriend to fiancée to wife to mother of his children?

He’d give you the world, he’d kill for you. Protect you. Die for you, live for you. He’d do anything for you. Even if it’s as simple as aftercare. He loves you. You love him.

🝮🝮🝮

[rafesweetie]

౨ৎ in which you run into rafe’s arms whenever there’s trouble. not that he minds, of course.

being rafe’s girlfriend meant relying on him for everything. it made him feel wanted, and made you feel safe. so although it went against all your morals as a woman, it just felt right crawling into a cute boy’s muscular arms whenever you needed comfort or help. whether someone made your drink wrong, or a boy was hitting on you, or anything else really, rafe was there to help you out. you’d just grab his hand or pull him aside, and he’d mutter an “i gotcha, kid,” before going to handle it.

he’d assumed you’d be okay going to a friends birthday party. he wasn’t invited, it was a ‘no boys allowed’ kind of party. just gossiping pillow fights and giggles. and these were your friends, if you had any issues you’d sort them out yourself. but, spoiler alert — he was wrong.

rafe was at tannyhill, sitting on the couch on the balcony as he replied to his fathers email about the dumb cross that rafe wanted to sell. it was probably around two hours ago when you left, in your cute dress that he bought you, giving him a big kiss before leaving with a birthday gift in hand. the sun was setting, it wasn’t even that late. so he certainly wasn’t expecting a security alert that the front door was opening, nor your pouty face appearing at the balcony door as you opened it slowly.

your lips were red, matching the unnatural hue on your cheeks. little white lines stained from your eye down to your jaw. your eyelashes were droopy and had little wet drops on them. which leaves him to one conclusion; you were crying.

“..shit,” he mutters under his breath, drawling out the word with parted lips and sighing as you plop yourself down beside him. “what happened, baby?” an arm instantly wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. you instantly cuddle into him, like you always do. right back in your lover’s arms.

“..anna,” you sniffle, voice soft and shaky. “i don’t get it. i don’t get why she’s so nice to everyone except for me. hates me for no reason, rafe, she hates me—“ a quick interruption on his part, quickly shutting you up because you’re not answering the question properly.

he finds it hard to believe that anyone could hate his girl. “what did she do?” he asks, making sure you’re looking him in the eyes so you really understand what he’s asking for. specifics.

“she’s just so rude. said my highlights were way too grown out, said my dress did nothing for my figure and washed out my tan, said that my nail polish was chipping..” you trail off and sniffle. “anything to prove im not perfect, rafe. like duh, i know im not, but she likes to point it out. then she always giggles like it’s just a silly joke,”

“..uh huh,” he hums along. “‘n you know thats not true, right?” he checks, as if it’s obvious.

“well it is true. haven’t gotten my hair done in months, and my nails are chipping, so..”

he sighs. “not that part, kid. c’mon,”

“…that was the only part, rafe,”

“talking about the ‘perfect’ part,” he clarifies. “you know you’re perfect, c’mon, don’t start saying you aren’t,”

“no one’s perfect,” you counter.

“i beg to differ,” he shrugs. “now c’mon, whaddya want me to do about this bitch, huh?” he changes the topic before you argue and he has to assure you more.

“nothing, rafe,”

“nothing?”

“mhm.”

he huffs and leans back on the couch. he knows you. you don’t want him to do nothing about this. “why the hell are you here then, if you don’t want me to do anything?”

“to see my handsome boyfriend ‘n tell him what happened,”

“..right,” he says after a moment. “sure thing, kid. i won’t do anything. whatever you want,” you can tell he’s lying through his teeth.

you smile softly at his agreeable attitude, his voice and touch alone comforting you more than anyone else could. so you cuddle into him more, doe eyes looking out at the sunset overlooking tannyhill, at the american flag waving in the humid wind. you’re perfectly content letting him dry the leftover tears and spending the night with him instead of your little friends.

but you and him both know he’s gonna be making an angry phone call to a certain girl after you leave.

[obxsummer]

leave me again ii // rafe cameron

pairing: rafe cameron x routledge!reader (she/her), ex!jj maybank x reader

summary: you left the cut with nowhere to go. it’s rafe cameron that finds you and shows you the life you deserved to live

warnings: sorry jj lovers, that man does not get our girl back so sad jj and probably ooc rafe but i love it when that man is soft

navigation || part one

--

Six months.

It had been six months since any of the Pogues had seen you. No social media, no sight of you around town, no letters. Nothing.

The past six months left you to do a lot of reevaluations. You’d walked aimlessly after the group had left for the dive with nothing but your backpack and phone, no destination in mind. Until you found one.

“Lost or something?”

“Fuck off, Rafe,” Your response was instant as you continued to walk without sparing him a look. The car shifted into a different gear, you guessed by the noise, before Rafe was hopping out to approach you.

“Are you okay?” When you didn’t answer, he moved in closer and grabbed your shoulder before turning you to face him. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

You stared at him with the knowledge that you probably looked like a mess with the tear streaks across your cheeks. While Rafe had a lot of issues with your friends and brother, he usually stayed clear of you. Whether that was because you were close with Sarah, or what, you didn't know.

Twisting your fingers together, you dropped your gaze as tears started to build again. “You ever watch someone you love choose someone else over you, every single time?”

The question felt like a punch in the gut to Rafe. He had. His whole life he watched his dad choose Sarah. Watched his mom choose another family over him. Watched Wheezie choose another sibling over him.

“Get in, I’ve got somewhere to take you.”

Six months ago, you hopped in Rafe Cameron’s Range Rover and left The Cut behind. You didn’t question the decision, knowing you’d worry about everyone else before taking care of yourself, and that clearly didn’t work in the past. You felt horribly guilty about leaving John B with no indication whether you were okay or not, but you knew if one of them found out, JJ would be busting down the door to Rafe’s bedroom before you had a chance to say no. 

While you weren’t sure what the original intentions had been, Rafe was so different with you after bringing you back to his new house. One he’d bought after selling Tannyhill, free from the haunting of his father and the screams that echoed off the walls, he had turned it into a safe space for himself and anyone he invited in.

Things blossomed quickly and you realized the Rafe in front of you was not the bully, coke-head addict you’d once known. He was such a gentle person, and so much more attentive to you than JJ had ever been. Whether it was making you breakfast in bed before you left for the day, or prepping a warm (actually warm, like hot water you’d hadn’t had in forever) candle lit bath, or popping an expensive bottle of wine just for you to taste, he was there in ways nobody had been. You were his girl, his only girl, and you never once had to question that.

Rafe had even invited you to sit in on his investment meetings and he was slowly pulling your name into his business so you’d have a professional background to grow into. You were steadily becoming an educated little couple in his home, something he was so proud and grateful for. He had someone to lean on for advice and give him fresh eyes on new projects with no judgment or fear of anger. The two of you soaked up your bubble of peace for as long as you could before shit hit the fan. 

Little did you know, on the other side of the island with your brother, there had been absolutely no peace. John B and JJ barely spoke, everything ending in an argument when they did. Pope was sick of playing mediator, and Kie had more of less shut down out of guilt. Sarah was still searching for you, but you’d gone ghost. Cleo was treading lightly with the knowledge that everything would explode eventually. 

So, they did what they could, and dove into treasure hunting. When JJ pulled the amulet out of his pocket in the back of the Twinkie, John B’s emotions were mixed. Sure, he was stoked that he’d found the object the group was looking for, but he wished you were here. It was your birthday, and John B was inches away from losing his shit without you.

“Dude, are you okay?” Pope asked as the group stood in the office area of the house, trying to find more information on the amulet’s inscription.

John B tossed the heavy object on the desk in frustration. “No, I’m not okay! We can find decades old treasure like it’s the easiest thing ever, but we can’t find jack shit about my sister? That’s bullshit, Pope. And you know it.”

Pope knew things would be sensitive today. Even JJ woke up grouchy, which John B told him was deserved since he caused your absence in the first place. The lack of your presence weighed heavy on the group, so Pope suggested going to visit one of your favorite beach spots. 

Little did he know what he was getting himself into.

--

“Rafe!” The house was filled with your laughter as Rafe twirled you in the kitchen lighting, your favorite song playing from the interactive speaker on the counter. The two of you had spent the day together, visiting the country club for lunch before Rafe took you shopping for something to wear tonight.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Lemme love on you, it’s your birthday” He mumbled as he pressed soft kisses into your neck, hands squeezing your hips teasingly. The soft fabric of the dress he’d picked out covered your frame, the color matching your skin perfectly. 

You hummed in content, fingers holding his biceps tightly as if your knees would give out any second. “You loved on me a lot this morning.”

“Can’t help it.” Rafe’s thumb traced your bottom lip before he kissed you softly. “You make it so easy.”

The two of you got lost in each other for a few more moments, soaking up the quiet as the orange sunset started casting through the windows. Today had been the best day you’d had in so long and you were so grateful of Rafe for giving you so much patience and love.

It had taken time for you to adjust to this kind of life. You walked in here with three outfits to your name, a busted cell phone, and a stuffed animal John B won you at the town festival as kids. And Rafe embraced every bit of it, let you keep your Pogue pieces while building you a life around it that was filled with items you needed but would never ask for, all while loving you so gently.

You climbed out of his car (technically the one he’d bought you but you refused to acknowledge that), and stepped down into the soft sand below. This was your spot, the spot you came to whenever you needed to clear your head or take a moment alone. You’d shared it with Rafe shortly after everything changed, and now, it was a shared spot that you both considered special.

Rafe moved around the car to grab your hand and guide you toward the area he had organized for the two of you. A small white table had been set up with your favorite snacks and two glasses of wine, surrounded by the fluffiest blanket and pillows you’d seen. 

“Did you do this?” You squeezed his hand tighter, tears in your eyes at how sweet and thoughtful the gesture was. Your jaw dropped as the two of you walked closer; everything was thought out down to the tiny forks you loved so much being there to pick up the appetizers. 

“Course I did, baby.” Rafe kissed your temple softly and grabbed one of the glasses to hand to you before taking hold of his own. You clinked your glass against his, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply in appreciation.

And then everything went to shit.

“What the fuck?”

Rafe’s hand tightened against your lower back, both of you looking over to see the handful of figures standing a few feet away. Your heart went to your throat went you made eye contact with your brother, whose hand was wrapped in Sarah’s. JJ stood behind him along with Kiara, Pope, and Cleo, all of them looking at you expectantly.

“Shit,” You whispered and took a step back from Rafe, eyes meeting his in dread. His expression had hardened at the sight of JJ, all the anger rushing back when he thought about how you’d been treated in the relationship, how unfair everything had been. You clocked the frustration in his gaze and placed your fingers on his cheek to redirect his focus back to you. “Don’t. I’ll handle it.”

Rafe’s jaw ticked but he didn’t argue as you slipped your wine glass back into his hand and left his side to approach the group standing in front of you. You weren’t even worried about JJ or Kie, you were worried about John B more than anything.

“Hi,” The greeting was so quiet you almost didn’t hear yourself. How do you talk to people you disappeared on six months ago?

John B’s only response was to pull you into the tightest hug he had ever given. You stumbled with the force of his body colliding with you before regaining your balance and returning the embrace. 

“You’re okay,” He repeated the words to himself as if convincing his mind that they were true before stepping back and holding your cheeks in his hands. The smile on his face was huge, and you were so so confused. “Holy shit.”

“Hi,” You laughed quietly, placing your hands on top of his. “I’m so sorry.”

John B shook his head, his thumb brushing the random tear from your cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I told you to take a break, yeah? And you did.”

You glanced back to where Rafe was surprisingly conversing with Sarah with no anger in sight. The pit in your stomach slowly disappeared as you took them in and turned your attention back to John B. “I um… there’s a lot to catch you up on, and I want to tell you. I wanna tell you all of it, JB, but-”

“And I wanna hear it,” He reassured softly. “But someone put a lot of effort into your night and I don’t wanna steal any of it.”

You were so goddamn grateful for your brother. Pulling John B into another hug, you spared the look over his shoulder to see Kiara stomping away from the beach. You tried to keep a smirk off your face but it definitely made its way through. 

Stepping back from John B, you shared hugs with Cleo and Pope, promising that you would see them soon before you were face to face with the reason you made it here in the first place. JJ looked rough. His hair was chaotic, arms thinner than you remembered, and he just looked tired.

“I don’t want your apology,” You spoke as he opened his mouth. “And it looks like you have a girlfriend to go find anyway.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” JJ replied quickly as he stared at you. “Not anymore.”

You pulled your lips in and shrugged. “Okay. I’ll see you around, JJ.”

He reached a hand out toward you when you moved to walk away. You paused just out of his reach and looked back. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

You nodded. “I know. I should be thanking you actually, because if you had said it back to me that day, I wouldn’t have found something so much better.”

And with that, you walked away from JJ and the empty promises he had always given, walked away straight into the arms of someone who would give you the world and more, if you just so much as asked.

--

navigation 

[greengoblinswifey]

Redemption— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— you’re taken by Groff’s accomplices and you’re ex Rafe Cameron appears to save you unexpectedly. your past is full of pain but he’s determined to make things right.

warnings— ex to lovers, kidnapping, arguing, slight manipulation and coercion, oral(m&f receiving), fingering, choking, ass slapping, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Rafe hadn’t planned on being part of the treasure hunt again, but when he heard about the Groff connection and Sarah dragging you into it, he couldn’t stay away. It wasn’t about the money this time—though he wouldn’t say no to a cut or possibly stealing it for himself—it was about you. Despite everything, he still cared deeply, even if he didn’t show it the way you deserved.

Your relationship had ended months ago, crumbling under the weight of his issues and the way he treated your friends. You’d made it clear you didn’t want to see him again even during the trip. But when he found out you’d been kidnapped by Groff’s men, something inside him snapped. He couldn’t think straight until he had you back.

When he first showed up to give his help, your cold glare hit harder than any insult. “You shouldn’t be here, Rafe,” you’d said flatly, refusing to meet his eyes.

He tried to explain himself, but you cut him off. “I don’t trust you, not after everything. You treated my friends like garbage, and you don’t get to come in now and play the hero.”

“I’m not here to play the hero,” he’d said, voice low, almost pleading. “I’m here for you.”

But there was no time to dwell on old wounds. Chaos erupted, and by the time the dust settled, he’d saved you from Groff’s accomplices and now you were both hiding out in a grimy motel room.

“You didn’t have to come after me, Rafe,” you snapped, pacing the cramped space. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor. Especially not from someone who ditched us when we needed him.”

His jaw clenched as he leaned against the door. “You’re seriously saying that to me? You all left me to almost get arrested! Like I was nothing.”

“You were nothing when you couldn’t pick a side!” you fired back, glaring at him.

“I did pick a side,” he shot back, stepping closer, his voice dropping. “I picked you. That’s why I’m here.”

His words hung in the air, the weight of them undeniable. You scoffed, looking away, but your resolve wavered as he moved closer.

“You think I don’t care?” His tone softened, a crack in his armor. “You think I didn’t lose my mind when I heard they took you? I couldn’t—I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Your breath hitched, but you shook your head. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe’s hand caught your wrist gently, turning you to face him. His gaze burned, the anger and pain in his eyes mirrored in your own. “I’m here now,” he murmured. “Let me prove it.”

You didn’t have time to argue before his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was desperate, heated, and filled with all the unspoken emotions you’d both buried. Your fingers curled into his shirt as his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. The frustration and anger melted into something you couldn’t name, something that felt like it could destroy you both if you let it.

Rafe’s hands were everywhere, his lips trailing from your mouth to your neck with a desperation you hadn’t felt in months. You wanted to lose yourself in him, but the anger resurfaced, and you pushed him away, chest heaving.

“I can’t do this, Rafe. Not after how you’ve treated us—how you’ve treated me.”

His jaw clenched, but his voice was soft. “I got a ship for all of you. I stayed civil even after you tied me up. I’m here, trying to prove myself to you. I still want you. I can’t do this without you—I can’t be better without you.”

Your emotions threatened to spill over, but instead of crying or screaming, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. The kiss was fiery, tangled in resentment and longing, as his hands roamed your body again. His lips found your neck, and a moan escaped before you could stop it.

“You’re such a piece of shit,” you muttered, your voice shaky.

“Yeah?” His hand slid lower, brushing under the fabric of your outfit and finding your pussy. “Well, you’re wet for this piece of shit.” His voice was low, teasing, as his fingers found their way inside.

You gasped, torn between shame and pleasure. “You’re disgusting, Rafe. I can’t stand you.”

“And yet here you are, you’re a slut for liking this,” he whispered against your neck. “Hear how wet you are.”

The heat built unbearably, and you couldn’t stop yourself. As your body betrayed you, the orgasm was laced with mortification. You turned away, unable to meet his gaze, but he just smirked softly. “You can hate me all you want,” he said, his voice a murmur. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

He slipped his fingers coated in your arousal in your mouth and your tongue swirled over them.

“Good girl,” he chuckled.

“You never know when to shut up, do you?” you snapped, rolling your eyes as Rafe smirked. His hands rested confidently on your waist, pulling you closer.

“I could say the same about you,” he quipped, his voice low and teasing. Before you could retort, he dropped to his knees, silencing you with his actions.

“Don’t,” you started, but the heat of his touch made your words falter.

“Stop pretending you don’t like it,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours, as he licked your pussy. Despite yourself, a soft moan escaped you.

“That’s what I thought,” he said smugly, and you could only glare as he gave a satisfied grin.

Rafe’s grip on your hips was firm, his strength keeping you in place despite your squirming. Your fingers tangled in his buzzed hair, tugging as whimpers slipped from your lips. His focus didn’t waver, and you felt yourself trembling under his relentless attention.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice breaking with a mix of defiance and surrender. But he didn’t stop until your entire body tensed, a soft moan escaping as you reached your peak. He looked up at you afterward, his expression smug and victorious.

Rafe leaned back, a smug grin on his face as he palmed his cock through his pants, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Look how hard you got me, baby,” he said, his voice low and confident. His hand moved slowly, emphasizing his words. “You used to always help me out with this, come on, suck daddy’s cock.”

The nickname made you wince, memories stirring. He saw the hesitation but leaned in closer, voice softer but insistent. “You know you want to,” he murmured, his gaze challenging, daring you to resist.

Rafe pulled his hard cock out, his size drawing a breathless reaction from you, it looked like he’d gotten bigger, if that was even possible. He chuckled, the sound dripping with arrogance. “Come on, baby. Help daddy out,” he coaxed, his tone a mix of command and temptation. Despite your resolve, you felt yourself falter, unable to resist the magnetic pull he always had on you.

Arching your back, your ass high in the air, you leaned down, taking him into your mouth. His groan was instant, his hand finding your waist before he smacked your ass. “That’s my good girl,” he muttered. You rolled your eyes and took him into your warm mouth, bobbing your head at the right pace to have him moaning. You used your hand to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth as his balls tightened and his breathing grew ragged. Just as he was about to release, you pulled away.

His laugh was one of disbelief. “You’re such a brat,” he muttered, shaking his head, though the amusement never left his eyes.

Rafe’s warm hands moved to your bare thighs, rubbing it slowly as he looked up at you with those blue eyes. He knew it was your weakness. You were already soaked but having him caress you like that practically turned you into a fountain. He had you right where he wanted you.

“My cock really misses that tight, wet pussy,” he whispered, his voice low and husky.

“Yeah? Well if you want to fuck me, you’re gonna have to beg,” you retorted.

Rafe let out a mocking chuckle, as if he couldn’t believe those words left your lips. His little baby wasn’t such a baby anymore.

“Seems like we’ve been apart for so long that you’ve forgotten, Rafe Cameron doesn’t fucking beg.”

He snaked his hand around your neck, pulling you into a heated, rough kiss. Your tongues slipped into each other’s mouth, the feeling one that made you melt. He pushed you onto the bed by your neck and took his position above you.

“You’ve also forgotten that this is my pussy and I saved you, I’ve fucking earned it,” he said, with that cocky smirk plastered on his face.

Everyone had their weakness, for Sarah it was John B, for Pope it was Cleo and for you— well, it was Rafe Cameron.

You spread your legs and he smirked, resisting to make a snarky comment as he dragged the head of his cock up and down your wet folds. He placed it on your clit, teasing you as you squirmed underneath him.

“Please,” you whimpered, wanting nothing more than to have him plunge his cock inside you,

“Look who’s begging now,” he said, darkly.

He lifted your legs around his waist and you locked them as he sank into your pussy. His hips bucked and his pace faltered as he had to slowly push in and wait for you to adjust to his size.

“So tight f’me, glad no one’s been inside this pussy since we broke up.”

You gave him a slight push on the chest but your attack was halted as he thrusted into you all the way. Your jaw fell slack as you gasped for air feeling him fill you to the brim.

“S’okay baby, just breathe, daddy’s here,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss your lips.

He began rutting steadily inside you, whispering little praises that made your stomach flip. You wouldn’t admit it but a part of you missed having him above you like this. By now he had taken off his shirt, revealing the muscle underneath and the sweat glistening on his body. You ground against him, your clit getting the stimulation you desperately craved and sending pleasure through you.

“Oh God, daddy,” you moaned, meeting his thrusts faster.

“You gonna cum baby? That’s it, cum for me,” he murmured.

Rafe’s pace sped up, hitting the sweet spot inside you as your release hit you like a truck. He continued fucking you through your orgasm, your legs shaking as he did, the pleasure almost too much.

“Good girl, there she is,” he cooed, “I knew you wanted this too.”

“M-more,” you managed to croak out.

“Oh my baby wants more? You want daddy to fuck you even more? What a dirty little slut.”

He complied with your request, flipping you swiftly onto your stomach and pulling your hips up to him. You arched your back the way you knew he liked it and he kissed your ass before rubbing his cock along your folds.

“God baby, did I mention how much I missed this wet pussy?”

He slammed into you from behind, gripping your waist as he brought you back onto his cock, hard. Your ass clapped against him and he watched mesmerized as his cock disappeared inside you and came out covered in your cream and juices.

“Daddy,” you moaned, shamelessly as he rolled his hips into you. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he had on that smug look and you gasped as he pressed your face into the pillow, pounding into you at a deeper angle.

“You really like that huh, fuck, your pussy is just gripping my cock so well baby, cum for daddy, cream all over my cock.”

He slapped your ass, basically giving you the go ahead as you shuddered under his touch, his name leaving your lips continuously as you creamed all over his cock. Unable to stop himself, he stilled inside you, his load spurting as he moaned your name and you felt his dick throb against your walls.

He rolled over, pulling out of you but not before spreading your ass to watch his cum drip out.

You stared up at the ceiling, wondering what you were doing with your life. You were in a random motel in Morocco and you hooked up with your ex after he saved you from kidnappers, meanwhile your friends were probably out looking for you, worried sick.

“Uh, we should go, they’re probably looking for me,” you sighed, getting up. He took a piece of cloth and wiped between your legs. Silence fell between you but oddly, it was a comfortable silence. You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but care and sincerity. He really did come for you and was actually trying to change and do right by you all.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

eyes on the prize

a/n: me writing a fic where rafe is actually wholesome and nice? i didn't see it coming either... this idea just came to me when you were all voting for the kinktober fic a while ago, and i was prepping that it maybe could go in this direction and then ended up falling too much in love with the fantasy, so i simply had to get it out of my system.

summary: “in a week, when we’ve turned in the assignment, and everything is over, I want you to come watch me fight… watch me win…” a cocky smirk twitched at the corner of his lips as he awaited your answer.

warnings: mma!rafe cameron x reader, smut, college au, study buddies to lovers, soft!rafe, autumnal vibes, takes place in the beginning of november, studying, friday the 13th references, scaredy cat!reader, violence, mma fights, kissing, semi-public sex, clothed sex, dirty talk, manhandling, ripping pantyhose, size kink, spit kink, hole inspection, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

word count: 2626

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“So,” you hesitantly broke the silence that had fallen over both you and the partner that had been assigned to you on this current project, “did you get up to anything fun on Halloween?” 

Glancing up from the thick book Rafe’s bored gaze was rushing through, it instead lingered on you for but a moment as his mutter reverberated in the quiet corner of the university’s library, “uhm, yeah. I popped by a party for a bit.” 

“The one at delta neu?” a glint flickered in your eye as soon as he offered you a nod, “me too! Though I went home kinda early, so we might have missed each other… what did you going as?” 

“Jason,” he simply uttered. 

“Jason who?” the soft smile didn’t fade from your lips as his short answer hadn’t landed the way he’d hoped. 

“You know,” his brows furrowed slightly at your cluelessness, repeating once again as if the name alone should be enough for you to understand, “Jason.” 

“…Jason Statham? Jason Momoa?” your eyes squinted as you quietly attempted to hit the bullseye, “uhm… I can’t really think of any other famous Jasons right now…” 

“No, Jason from Friday the 13th. You know, the dude with the hockey mask and the machete.” 

“Ah, him… yeah, I haven’t watched those movies,” you shrugged, “but, cool costume.” 

“Wait, you’ve never seen Friday the 13th?” he tilted closer to where you sat across the table from him, “not even the cheesy remake?” 

“Nope,” you simply returned your gaze to the textbook beneath your fingers.  

“Seriously?” his eyebrows didn’t float back down yet, “well, I don’t know if I should be offended that you’ve never watched that masterpiece before or jealous that you get to experience it for the first time, but either way, that’s a problem we need to fix.” 

At first, you thought you’d entered the wrong building. 

That was until you rounded the corner, and your gaze fluttered up from the map still open on your phone, guiding you to the mysterious address your study partner had texted you, asking you to meet up with him there before the rest of your plans could unfold, that you discovered that you hadn’t stumbled into the wrong place. 

Though that wasn’t the only thing you discovered in that moment as the culmination of that enlightenment was spotting Rafe in the middle of the industrial and cold gym, going through the tail end of some drills with his trainer. 

As he went through the combinations and grunted like a guard dog, sweat dripped down from his brow and rolled so low that it cascaded over his already glistening and bare chest. 

You hadn’t really noticed how your feet had stopped or how your pulse had picked up so fiercely that you could feel it between your thighs before his own eyes located you and he flashed you a smile.

“Hey!” his voice cut through your trance as he patted his coach on the shoulder and began to near the edge of the ring. 

“H-hi,” you blinked, shaking your fuzzy head slightly to clear it, “I didn’t know you were into this sort of stuff,” you briefly waved a hand to the gym around you and tried your best to rip your stare away from his heaving chest. 

“Yeah,” he began to loosen a glove, “sorry I asked you to meet me here, I’m just really busy these days cause I’ve got a fight coming up.” 

“Oh, well we don’t have to have a silly movie night if you don’t have the time,” you averted your gaze, recalling how before you’d been paired with him on the assignment for Callahan’s class, you hadn’t even been sure of what his name was. You’d just known him as the hot guy, three rows behind you. 

“No, no, I want to, unless of course you’ve changed your mind.”

Blinking back up into his eyes, you smiled, “definitely not.”

“Well, great,” a grin spread across his lips, “then just give me a second,” he cast a brief glance over his broad shoulder at the locker room, “and then we can head back to my place,” a notion you hadn’t expected would have ended with you up on the back of his motorcycle, a terrifying concept that you’d somehow been unable to deny as the crush that had blossomed and bloomed within your heart for him had made it near impossible for you to say no to a single one of his suggestions. 

“You never told me what you went as,” Rafe hummed beside you, causing your eyes to tear away from the horror movie buzzing on the TV.

Blinking over at him next to you on the leather couch, your fingers began to fiddle with the blanket you’d slumped over yourself, “oh, well I didn’t wanna buy anything new, so I just went through my closet and ended up going as Britney Spears because I found the skirt of my old school uniform. I don’t even remember why I brought it with me the last time I went home, but–, ah!” a shriek suddenly shuttered through your form as your eyes accidentally fluttered back towards the screen just in time to witness the villain sink a large blade into the head of one of the drunk teenagers, “oh my god!” your frame couldn’t help but jump at the fright, nearly tossing the blanket across the room as you instinctively hid your features in the mass of Rafe’s bicep. 

As your heart raced and thumped in your chest, you felt Rafe’s shoulder begin to move before you heard his laughter. 

“Shut up, it’s not funny!” you smacked him lightly in the chest, though kept your vision darkened by his shirt, “so I’m not desensitised to the horrors of scary movies, big whoop!” a mutter then slipped out of your lungs, “fuck, why did I agree to this? I’m probably gonna have nightmares for weeks…”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s just a movie,” you felt his palm find your arm in a soothing rub as his voice hummed directly above the crown of your head, “and the scene is almost over.” 

“I can’t look…” you felt yourself lean more into his touch. 

“…do you want me to describe it to you?” 

“No…” you lingered in the security of his warmth and felt the terror slowly melt from your bones. Cupping a hand on the side of your face to shield your eyes from the horrors on screen, you carefully plucked your face just shy out of his safety before you uttered, “…just tell me when it’s over…” 

The blaring light from the television reflected against the side of Rafe’s face as he gazed down into your eyes and breathed, “okay,” his stare slowly dipping and fluttering down towards your lips. 

It wasn’t till now that you noticed how close you’d accidentally scooted to him as you weren’t far from just sitting in his lap. 

Sharing his breath, your mind went entirely blank and only switched back on when you’d closed the distance betwixt your lips and now found yourself kissing your study buddy. 

Thankfully, your brain didn’t get a chance to begin spiralling as it only took Rafe half a second to reciprocate the sudden move and kiss you back. 

His strong hands found the small of your waist buried beneath the woollen blanket before he began to drag you closer, pulling you so near that you actually did wind up sitting in his lap, your fingers fluttering against his buzzcut as his own scooped down over the curve of your ass. 

When the movie gently humming from behind you was long forgotten and your soul instead had drifted straight to heaven, you felt Rafe tilt his head back to breathlessly utter, “come watch my fight…” his forehead still pressed against your own. 

Scarcely picking up on the words behind his honied hum, you breathed, “what?” 

Reeling back just enough for his eye to catch your own dazed pair, he said, “in a week, when we’ve turned in the assignment, and everything is over, I want you to come watch me fight… watch me win…” a cocky smirk twitched at the corner of his lips as he awaited your answer.

You’d never seen a fight in real life before. 

Not boxing, not mixed martial arts as this was, not even a juvenile one in a schoolyard. 

At one point, when you thought all hope seemed lost, when Rafe got pinned by his opponent and blood was trickling down from the cut at his brow so clearly that you could make it out from the second row seat you found yourself planted in, he somehow managed to turn the tides and capture the boulder of a man in a lock so fierce it made them nearly melt into one pretzel-like being. 

As he flexed his arm around the other’s throat with the rest of his limbs restricting him as well and rendering an escape near impossible, Rafe’s eyes then flickered up to catch your wide ones in the crowd. A grin appeared on his features as he held your stare a moment longer, watching as you shyly began to mirror his smile, before he tightened his hold and squeezed till the opponent opted not to bruise his pride and tap out, instead going limp in the grasp. 

Once the trophy was in his gloved hand and he’d leapt out of the ring, on his way back towards the locker room, he zigzagged through the cheering crowd and caught onto your arm, dragging you with him as he exited the buzzing hall. 

“That was insane,” you heard yourself babble as he pulled you through the corridors down towards the backroom he’d been in prior to the fight, “I mean, I know I went into it kinda blind, but I had no idea it would be like that,” adrenaline still rushed through your veins as he tugged you over the threshold and closed the door behind you, swiftly dropping his trophy to one of the long benches, “sure, it was as insane as I probably imagined, but the way that you moved, the way you slipped in and out like you were made of water or something, I mean, that was beautiful–,” the fighter then suddenly cut your rambling short as he yanked you to his sweaty form and pressed his lips to your own. However, as his feet shuffled and your spine collided with the back of the door to the small locker room, your fingers fluttered over countless of the spots where he’d been hit, causing you to jerk back and ask, “wait, shouldn’t you have someone check you out?” your eyes flickered from the cut splitting his brow to the various fresh bruises already beginning to blossom and reveal their true colours, “are you okay?”

“I’ve never felt better in my whole life,” he tried to lean back in to capture your lips once more, though you tilted away just in time for him to miss. 

“You sure? Because–”

But your words were quickly snuffed out as his hands then flew up to grasp the sides of your face to force you to notice the glint in his eye and the desire dripping in his tone, “just shut up and kiss me,” he commanded before he practically devoured you whole. 

As Rafe’s tongue danced against your own and made you feel dizzy in his tight embrace, his fingers then blindly fumbled for the lock and twisted it with a click that harmonised with the throbbing that had appeared between your thighs as soon as the fight had commenced. 

A low growl rumbled deep within his chest and melted into your mouth as he then plucked you off of the ground and lifted you into his arms. Broad palms spreading wide below your bottom, he brought you as close as possible, causing the skirt you wore to ride up and crumble at your hips. The thin barrier of your pantyhose and the underwear beneath nearly incinerated from the heat that sparked as his hips greedily rocked against your covered core, lending you to feel just how hard he was in his shorts. 

“I want you so bad,” he groaned between pecks, his fingers digging into your softness.

“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating your victory or something?” a light giggle bubbled out of you. 

“I thought that was what I was doing,” he smirked before dropping you back down onto the ground, making you gasp at his sharp movements as he suddenly spun you around to face the closed door, “unless you have a better idea of how we could celebrate,” he nipped at your neck, making your eyes flutter. 

“I–…” your teeth briefly captured your bottom lip as his front pressed against your back, and your spine instinctively arched back into him, “no, yeah, this one’s g-good…”

“Good,” he murmured in your ear before his fingers found your pantyhose in a pinch and ripped a big hole in them, nearly splitting them in two as he exposed your underwear, “do you want it?” he gripped your hips and titled them for his hard-on to perfectly nudge against the soaked cotton. 

“Y-yes,” you panted, even just that one word haven been a struggle to utter through the fog he’d cast you into. 

“How bad?” 

“So bad–, Rafe, please,” he made you squeak desperately, “I just–, please…”

Cheek smooshed against the door, you glanced over your shoulder and watched as he then kneeled down behind you. Both hands still firmly planted on your hips, keeping you in place for him, they only strayed for a moment in order to shove your skirt the rest of the way up and letting him see the wet spot decorating your panties. 

“Oh, shit…” he groaned as he tugged the gusset of your underwear all the way to the side, a string of your glossy want clung to the fabric till it snapped back against your aching core. Nearly salivating as he inspected your holes, his fingers dented your ass as he pulled you apart, splitting you open that much further and watching intently at the way your drooling cunt throbbed in anticipation for his touch. 

As if your pussy’s embarrassingly leaky state wasn’t enough, a dollop of his spit then roughly landed upon your folds, the lewdness causing you to let out a moan as he swiftly rose back up to his full height without as much as a tickle to your tingly petals.

The next thing you knew, the adrenaline coursing through you both drove Rafe to free his length from its confines and, without as much as another kiss, slammed inside of your weeping pussy in one fell motion. 

Balls nuzzled tightly against you, the very tip of him nudged against a part so deep inside of you that it made you lose your breath as he took a moment to savour the sensation, freezing up within you and huffing against your cheek as you gasped for air through your whimpers. 

“Oh my god!” one of your hands curled back to crawl at his waist, “Rafe!” 

“Now,” his hips slowly drew back, dragging his fat girth back out of you and letting you feel every little detail of him, “you just gotta be a good girl, stand right here for me,” only the bulbous head of his cock remained, keeping you plugged up as he purred in your ear, “and take it like the perfect little prize you are,” he then buried himself once more with such vigour that his heavy sack tapped sloppily against your puffy clit, “can you do that for me? Will you be my reward?” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

RAFE CAMERON who manages to grab the waistband of your little shorts, keeping you from escaping with the rest of the Pogues as they speed away. He yanks you into him, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift your feet from the ground. Hopelessly, you fight back, heartbroken your friends have to leave without you while you’re stuck on the boat that carries the Cross of Santo Domingo and the traitor who kept it out of the hands of its rightful owner. “Where’d you think you were goin’, huh?” Rafe’s smug and husky voice fills your ear, and instinctively you jerk away. Claws rake at his corded forearm pinning your back to his side but it’s no use. He lumbers off with you in hand.

Stuck with him in close proximity on this boat means you get no privacy. No room to yourself, no room to breathe. Rafe Cameron is breathing down your neck at every turn. You’re with the Pogues for life, but Rafe’s got a hold on you you can’t shake. You had no idea what to call it, friends, exes, lovers, you couldn’t label it. All you know is for the next couple weeks while he transports that cross he’s got your legs spread, speared on his dick, every which way. “S’good way to pass the time.” he tells you. Cock licking your insides with the deliberate roll of his hips, his cords of muscle moving fluidly under his skin. “I’m too soft on you, aren’t I? Y’know, you rebel against me, show me you’re tough, but when it comes down to it you’re begging me to put you in your place, huh? Where’s that place, baby?” His questions go unanswered as you can barely piece together what your name is let alone what he wants you to say. His pelvis drives harder, smacking skin on skin to a painful degree, until he squeezes choked sounds out of you. “Huh? Where’s it at?” he asserts with more force this time, dragging his bottom lip through his teeth.

“Right here, Rafey, right here.” you promise, clinging onto him tighter: hands in his shirt, legs wound around his torso, pussy pulsing. You belong right here underneath him and you know it.

“Don’t start that ‘Rafey’ shit with me, I’m pissed at’you.” he sneers, his intense eye contact demanding your attention when he grabs your chin to make you look at him. “You think they’re gonna come back for you? Naw, baby, you’re stuck with me. And there ain’t a thing you can do about it.”

[mrsbarnesblog]

my girl

masterlist

requests are open

summary: even if you knew that you and Rafe were just hooking up, hearing his friend's comments about you, while you were preparing a venue for the event, hurt more than you expected it to

word count: 2k.

warnings: fwb (or smth like that) to lovers, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, Rafe's friends lol, swearing

a/n: soft Rafe is my weakness, I'm sorry. he's on my mind 24/7 and I literally don't know what to write

You were running around the outdoor venue with boxes full of pastry, where in a few hours there was going to be an annual celebration with lots of rich people. For some reason, Ward Cameron, who was paying for everything here, decided that your father’s small bakery was good enough to feed all of the kooks, so from the afternoon on, you were organizing tables to make everything look perfect. 

The place itself looked truly magical—decorated with a lot of flower arrangements, lights and expensive furniture. It was located at Figure 8, so you obviously never had the opportunity to visit it before. It was Kook’s territory, and even with your family’s bakery, which was pretty popular on the island, you were not welcome here.

Just a few minutes ago, Ward himself came to the venue with Rafe and his son’s best friends in order to check how everything was going. 

As soon as your eyes met Rafe’s, you both stopped for a few seconds, too shocked to see each other in a public place. What happened between you and Kook's prince was something that you had never expected to get into, yet here you were. 

You didn’t know what got into you that one night, but out of nowhere, Rafe was talking to you, smiling, looking all sexy and without his usual cockiness, so you couldn’t resist him. 

It wasn’t that you even regretted your decision; it just became more weird every single time you met because he wasn’t bad. Rafe Cameron wasn’t an asshole, which everyone made him seem to be. He was affectionate and surprisingly soft, always checking on you while you two were together and never pressuring you to leave. You wholeheartedly had to admit that it became more than just sex after a few weeks, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. 

You were definitely not dating, mostly because he had never asked you to, but you two were always texting about random stuff, he would even pick you up to hang out at his secret spot on the beach, or just to simply sit in his truck with lots of food and talk. Part of you hated it, but Rafe made you feel so comfortable and safe around him so you were scared to push it and ask him what was happening between you. 

Rafe’s eyes stayed fixated on you as his father, Kelce and Topper stood near him, looking around the venue and chatting. But he could not care less about it because his entire attention was drawn to you and how adorable you looked in your pink tennis skirt and simple white polo with the bakery's logo on it. 

He may or may not be responsible for Ward’s choice of bakery to work with, because Rafe made sure to accidentally mention it a few times, knowing that it would be a good profit for your family. Yet, seeing you here slightly took him off guard, as the first thought that appeared in his head was to go up to you, flirt and make you blush, or just simply kiss you. But he couldn’t, right? At least not until he properly talked to you. 

“Damn, she’s hot, even for a pogue. No wonder you hit it a few times, bro. I'd do it too.” The moment words left Topper’s mouth, Rafe’s heart dropped into his stomach. Kelce snickered, fistbumping Topper, and Rafe cursed himself for running his mouth. He really considered drowning his friends in the nearest lake. 

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Rafe seethed through gritted teeth, elbowing his friend. 

“I would appreciate you both watching your language.” Ward sighed, wincing and rubbing a hand on his beard. He looked at Rafe, who completely ignored his questioning gaze while trying to figure out how to fix it. 

Even with you standing with your back facing them, Rafe saw that you heard it too. Your hand froze in the air, still holding a cupcake, and your shoulders sagged in disappointment and hurt.

Only a few seconds later, you came back to your senses. Your back straightened, you finished decorating the table and you put empty boxes in the trash can. You turned around, showing the fakest smile Rafe had ever seen on your face. Your nails digged in your palm to control yourself, and you stepped closer to the four of them. 

“Mr. Cameron, thank you for working with our bakery. It really means a lot for my family. I did everything and now the event manager should carry on. I, um, should go. I have a lot of stuff to do. Have a great night.” Your eyes were glossy, with tears clearly visible on your waterline. As you awkwardly and in a rush thanked Ward, you didn’t even look at Rafe or either of his friends, knowing damn well that it would break you. 

You didn’t even wait for Ward’s response before storming off, trying to get as far away from these people as possible. Your chest felt too heavy, and the lump in your throat was so hard that you could barely speak. But you didn’t even walk a few feet away before a familiar hand wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around. 

“What do you want from me?” You snapped at Rafe, trying to yank your hand out of his grip. “Don’t touch me, Rafe.”

“This is not what you think it is.” He said, searching for your eyes. His brows were knit together, and his eyes were big and round, almost in fear. 

“Oh no? Isn’t it what I am to you? Just a hit. Just another one on your long list. Why are you bothering to explain anything to me anyway?” You laughed, barely able to hold back your tears. As if it were not enough that you cried in front of Rafe, neither his friends nor his father seemed to mind their own business, obviously listening to your conversation. 

“No. You know that it was more for me, Y/N. I’m serious about you, okay? Topper just cannot filter his fucking mouth.” 

“Stop doing it, Rafe!” You broke, not bothering to hide anymore. “Stop playing with my feelings when you know damn well that you won’t have anything serious with me. I’m not rich, I’m not a kook and I’m not like the prefect girls you usually hang out with. I get it, okay?” You yanked your hand out of his hold, not missing the way Rafe tried to catch it back. Wiping away hot and angry tears with the back of your hand, you look him right in the eyes. “I just wish you didn't give me hope in the first place, because I feel so fucking stupid.” 

“You’re not stupid, Y/N. I don’t care about your money or your status, for that matter. I want you and I mean it. Just let me explain—”

"This is why you would not even speak to me in front of anyone, right? This is why we were always sneaking around. Because you want me, not because you’re too good to be around me.“ You confronted him, not even caring who could hear or see you. From the position where you were standing, you saw a bunch of young waitresses standing not so far away, pretending to work on the table but eyeing you and Rafe every second.

“I’m an asshole. I know it. I know that I didn’t put the label on us and that I fucked up, not doing the right thing.” He stepped closer to you, not breaking eye contact to show that he was sincere. "When Topper and Kelce saw me with you, I panicked and said the only thing that made sense: we were just hooking up. I didn’t want it to be that way, fuck…” Rafe screched the back of his neck in agitation.

“You should go back and stop embarrassing yourself talking with a pogue. I bet your friends found it entertaining. How much did you tell them, hm? Did you share every single detail of what we were doing?” Your voice broke at the end.

“I didn’t tell them anything!”

“Well, I don’t believe you, Rafe!” You sniffed, looking away to distract yourself from the look in Rafe’s eyes. His blue eyes were round, full of concern and it seemed like he was almost panicking. "I understand how guys like you talk about women, but I guess I was stupid enough to believe you would not do that to me. So yeah, you got what you wanted from me and now you can go back to—”

You were rumbling one moment, and the next, two hands pressed on your cheeks, tilting your head up, and Rafe's lips were on yours. You gasped, hands freezing in the air in shock, before slowly moving to Rafe’s shirt to tug on it. 

He didn’t rush; he just firmly yet gently held you against him while his tongue slipped into your mouth, savoiring every second. It’s been just two days since you last seen each other, but God, you missed kissing him. Even if you wanted to move away, you couldn’t. Rafe's palms were on your face, guiding you, while his kiss made your head feel empty and light. He smelled and tasted so good and you hated how quickly you got used to the feeling of his touch on your skin. 

“Everyone can see us.” You mumbled into his mouth. 

“I don’t fucking care, Y/N.” He furrowed, still feeling the wetness on your cheeks from crying. With his thumbs gently rubbing your soft skin, he gave you a few quick kisses before continuing. "I swear, all I said to them was that we just hooked up, because it is what it was at that moment. I wouldn’t have shared anything intimate about you, baby. Please believe me when I say this.” Rafe sighed, resting his forehead on yours. His nose bumped against your—something that he started doing when you were alone in the bed, laying face to face and just looking at each other. "I am sorry I made you feel like you were just sex for me, because you weren't. Spending time with you was the best fucking time of my day, and whatever that was between us, I don’t want it to end.”

“Me neither…” You whispered, feeling warmth rushing through your body when Rafe wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you even closer into him. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and then you felt him turning around, seemingly studying people around you.

“Since everyone saw us today, do you think I can take you away with me right now?” 

“Take me away? But you have an event in a few hours, and I have to work.”

“No, now we have an event and we have to find you a dress. I’ll handle your work and find someone who can deliver your orders.” Your head snapped up, only to see a proud grin on Rafe's face.

“You’re joking, right?” You pulled away, laughing. “I don’t have such clothes nor do I have money to buy them, and I definitely wasn’t invited.” 

“That’s why I’m taking you to the store now. And since you are my girl now, you’ll be my plus one.” He just shrugged, probably unaware that he had just filled your stomach with freaking butterflies. 

“I’m your girl?” 

Rafe silently looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, and it seemed like he was trying to reassure himself about something. His eyes then shifted to your lips, as he dragged you back to his body, lowering himself to mumble against your mouth. “Yeah, you are my girl.”

[nemesyaaa]

a long way from the playground // rafe cameron x reader

summary ; when you met rafe on the playground of the school, he was such a crybaby but you were there for him as his most beloved (and unique) friend until that accident which happened in high school.

seven years after that argument, you met him again. and mostly, seven years after, the crybaby that you know became the big boy that everyone knows.

genre ; childhood bestfriends to strangers to lovers (literally my favorite trope of the world), slight of angst, fluff, and smut. he fell first (and alone at first lmfao...)but she fell harder trope. one-shot.

warnings ; argument, family issues, mentions of cheating, smut, miscommunication, mentions of anger issues, fear of abandonment/being alone, jealousy, first time/virginity, past/present, violence ?( reader slapping rafe), being pogue/kook is not a big deal, mentions of rafe's mother.

author's note : it's 4k. was inspired by eighteen by one direction and to build a home by the cinematic orchestra. trying myself on something soft and kinda angst (but more in a bittersweet way.)

rafe was not always being the big boy everyone knew. it had taken seven years between the two of you for him to become stronger and more mature. when you met him, he was a whiny little boy who loved to fight, but cried every time you treated his wounds. you always managed to make him smile when you placed a bandage on the bleeding bruise and promised him that if he calmed down, the injury would disappear.

you started being there for him from the moment you were just seven years old.you understood that rafe needed someone in his life, because no one was there for him. you never understood why, but people loved to say, even the teacher and his family that there was something weird about him.

you heard the others spreading rumors about it a couple times. it was so easy to criticize others rather than judge yourself. at that moment, rafe didn't scare anyone. it was not because he had the prestigious cameron name that it made his classmates fear him.

he was like everyone else, there was no kook or pogue. everyone was too young to be different, the prey could be anyone in the group, but the leader always remained the same.

the first time you and rafe cameron were really close was on mother's day. the whole class had been assigned to make a gift and in the most saddest way possible, everyone had a mother to give their present to. everyone except Rafe, but you didn't know about that before the accident.

having finished making your own gift, you surprised your friend from behind and he dropped his vase on the ground. you had never felt so sad in your entire life when you saw the broken glass on the floor. you could clearly feel your heart cracking in your ribcage, your veins freezing, and your breath dying in your throat, the hot rush of tears inside your eyes.

"rafe, i'm really sorry. I...really, I didn't mean to..."

“it’s okay, y/n. I didn’t have anyone to give it to anyway...”

his voice cracked slightly in his knotted throat as he managed to not show you how hurt he was. he was trying to be strong, and not a crybaby — that nickname that you given him every time. and his eyes had become so full and wet with tears, the blue ocean of his eyes drowning in the hot little boy whines.

rafe cameron was a broken child, not just since you broke his vase. no, always. since he no longer had his mother. and you realized it in such a cruel way that you wanted to disappear.

he had so many tears, and you felt like they could flow down his cheeks forever, that even an eternity wouldn't be enough to wipe them away. and even if you had been a siren, you would never have been able to swim in water as salty as his present sadness.

"my mother...left me..." he admitted softly between sniffles, his nose red and leaky.

you felt bad but you took him against you in a tender hug, and placed your hand on his back to start caressing him gently, until he was soothed. "but you have me. and i will not leave. you know rafe, when i love someone, it's serious. i sincerely would like to make sure that you never feel alone again."

you looked into his eyes. you couldn't be more sincere.

and maybe it was from that day that rafe cameron fell in love with you, and he had never felt so good because he never thought that love could be so heartwarming and kind.

if you thought he would be the type to hide his feelings, or run away from them, you were wrong. it was the first time he felt this comfort, this happiness and he needed to show it to you. even for his family he did not have such great affection.

he loved giving you gifts. he had seen and heard that the girls really liked those kind of things so every day since Mother's Day, you received flowers, boxes of chocolates, photos of yourself accompanied by notes, volumes of your favorite book saga, CD's of your favorite singers. rafe couldn't let go of you.

since you didn't love him back, he fed on the affection and attention you gave him.

rafe took everything you had to give him - a look, a smile, a kiss on the cheek, a hug, an earphone for the two of you to share, a day in your room watching movies, a ride on the bike of your big brother, an afternoon playing in the sea.

there was nothing strange about him, nothing like the rumors could say.

“rafe, you didn’t have to give me that.” you exclaimed when you saw a necklace with his initials.

“but I wanted to. Don’t you like it?”

"I love..."

Rafe would have loved to hear that you were talking about him saying those words but he was also so impatient. every boy his age had a girlfriend, and he wanted you to be his. he was not an exception to the eager youth.

what was the point of being rich, of being able to have everything if you weren't included among his treasures? he wanted you, his only friend and the only girl who mattered to him.

But also, he was lost because he was experiencing one-sided love, because above all, it hurt so much not to be loved in return, to be in love with someone to love them to a point where it mattered more than himself.

the first time you kissed rafe cameron on the lips was in high school. you were drunk, you hadn't done it on purpose.

you threw up right after, but he never blamed you. he knew it was the alcohol, not him. he even held your hair while you vomited everything into the bowl. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...I..."

"I'm not mad. you're just drinking too much. I should have been more careful. you know i can't be angry with you."

yes, rafe had anger issues, serious problems managing his hard feelings. sometimes he even scared you. sometimes you even felt like he would be able to kill someone.

rafe’s hands could be deadly but whenever they were on you, pressed to your cheeks, against your hips, on your thighs, inside your hair, on your neck, they were always calm and gentle.

after that, you would never have guessed that the first time rafe cameron had touched himself, it was thinking about your lips on his mouth, something so small and pathetic but it was enough to make him so vulnerable and unable to think about anything else.

he imagined your pretty lips around his cock instead of his useless large hand, your wet open mouth pumping him as your tongue covered every inch of his growing girth. and he hated himself for having impure thoughts about you, because you looked like an angel. he had no desire to make you dirty but oh fuck — he had cum on his stomach, spurting the warm loads painting his flesh. and god he wished you were there to make him pure again.

after that, rafe had tried many times to get you out of his head. he thought of porn. but he imagined your body, your voice, your moans in place of all these actresses, and that was the only way he could come.

dating girls but it never worked. you were always the one he wanted out of all the ones that existed.

distance from you but he always came back, because without you it had always been like being in the dark. and how could he lives in darkness without the one who gave him light?

but above all, you were the one who understood him best, who always managed to soothe him, and above all who never judged him in his moments of weakness.

you were his home, where he took refuge when he had a problem with his father, when he could no longer stand Sarah's presence, when Rose was getting on his nerves, when Topper and Kelce were behaving like idiots. because you were the only person who couldn't make his existence even more shitty.

— now it's been over ten years since rafe cameron was in love with you, but only seven since you disappeared from his life.

you had another life now, a boyfriend who cheated on you and who was always angry with you, and pushing you under and under. you were stuck with the wrong guy.

you had always dreamed of being an artist, you had specialized in painting in college hoping to pursue your dream.

rafe had always accompanied you in that dream, volunteering as a model for all your portraits but you always ended up throwing all the drawings away because you were too perfectionist. for you, it was never good enough. but for your best friend, it was a masterpiece, the work of a true painter.

you drew in your spare time, but each time, you ended up drawing rafe's face. you had no idea why he was your only inspiration even though you had a boyfriend, why it was always him who motivated you to continue painting.

it was strange how rafe had made a huge impact in your life, the only boy you actually had.

— a year later, on a huge impulse, you offered your art to a museum that regularly held exhibitions. you had made arrangements with the director and tried to find rafe's contact two nights after.

you searched for his social media, last names in the directory, asked his friends but nothing had helped you. you had spent a week trying to find it but it felt like you had lost him forever, that it was like a flower that you should have cherished instead of letting it perish.

you had been a monster. you abandoned him...like his mother. like everyone else.

every time you thought about him, you always ended up crying. if it wasn't love because you were sure you didn't love him, why did it hurt so much? why did it kill you so much?

rafe had never been capable of hurting you, and yet you had stabbed him without even looking at him. you had let him give you his heart, and you had stepped on it. and maybe that was why he couldn't fall in love anymore because you had ruined all his chances of being with someone else.

rafe had confessed his feelings to you while you were in his room, talking about everything and nothing, the future and the past like children. he had grown up. he was no longer the little whiny child you had known but a big boy, the one who now had big arms to protect you, hands to dry your tears, body to warm you.

“i feel like you want to tell me something, big boy. so say it, don't make me wait or beg for it.” you teased him by stopping the movie you were watching under the blankets.

"If you weren't so blind and stupid, I wouldn't have to be so embarrassed. i really have to do all the work all the time. "

“Come on, confess it. Do you want me to close my eyes?”

“ close that eyes, and shut that mouth too. ” he nodded, and the minute you closed your eyes, his mouth found yours to kiss you.

“what does that mean?”

“are you being stupid on purpose?” he replied. "It wasn't a mistake for me in the club...I mean, I really liked it like now. Don't make me say it, y/n. "

you were embarrassed. you didn't like rafe. finally you loved him like a best friend. he had always been the friend you dreamed of, not the one you wanted to end up with.

In contrast, rafe always believed that a girl could never break his heart. but you had shown him today that he was wrong, because you had managed to hurt his feelings, to make them so depressing.

you had this control on him that he had exactly over everyone else.

"Am I still the crybaby I was to you? I've changed. "

"that has nothing to do with it. rafe, you can't love someone and think that they will love you back. love doesn't work like that, and sometimes it doesn't even work. "

“you love someone else, right?” his tone was now louder, becoming more aggressive.

"I...n-n..."

"you love someone? who is it? tell me who it is? or don't tell me, I'll find out eventually. do you think that guy deserves you more than me ? "

“rafe, you’re scaring me. don’t yell at me.”

"why? you have the right to reject me but I don't have the right to raise my voice with you... let me laugh...since you like joking with me now.” there was a sick smile on his face that you hated, and made you shake.

"Rafe, I'm not rejecting you..."

“oh, y/n, please don’t lie to me. you’ve never been a hypocrite, so don’t be one now. don't be mean sweetheart because i would die rather than hurting you. just admit that you have someone, that you like playing with my feelings. do you think you're superior to me ? well, don't forget that i'm the only guy that give you attention so you're not that special. i made you special.”

"you win, rafe cameron. congratulations. i'm leaving."

you stood up towards the door but he rushed toward you and blocked your way.

“rafe. move.”

"asking like that? oh no, sweetheart. I've seen you be nicer than that, so you're going to give me the pleasure of asking me with better words."

“don’t make me push you. ”

he laughed so hard that your ego had been hurt. "because you think i'm still the weak, whiny cameron from the past that you used to manipulate ? tskk tskk, wrong. it's over. i hold the power in the relationship now. "

“rafe, I don’t want us to argue.”

“ oh yea ? so why do you want to leave? give me just one good reason at least !”

“you have to let me go.”

"and if I refuse? ah yes, I forgot, my family probably loves you more than me so they will surely come and help you if you cry or scream. so, please, show me how much my family hates and doesn't care about me. ”

you felt the sadness in his voice despite the loud tone, and the condescension.

"you can't leave. what kind of girl are you? the kind who likes to break hearts?”

it was your turn to be mad at rafe so you slapped him. louder than you expected because his face had turned against the door, and a red bruise had marked his skin. you regretted your action but you didn't apologize. because rafe had to learn to respect you.

" excuse me ? I was always there for you, when you were in pain, when you were angry with the whole world, when your father was so cruel to you that I had nightmares because I was afraid that will be the reason i will lost you one day, when you were crying, when you were fighting, I was there when there was absolutely no one for you, I was there when you were the little boy that no one wanted. You have absolutely no right to blame me for anything and consider this slap at the end of my sentence because I will not apologize. I have always been nice to you. so don't make me regret this. so yes, well done rafe, you managed to ruin everything. I'm sorry that you are in love with me and unfortunately I don't have this feelings for you, but now you lost me, and all the chances you had for us to end up together so you can sequester me here if you want, but know that even if I stayed in this room until the end of my days, I would still have no feelings for you, not a fucking single one. “

he was angry, his nostrils were flaring, and his fists were clenched against his thighs. you only had to see the swelling of his veins around his temples and around his neck to feel that it was literally boiling inside his body.

"you haven't changed. you've just grown. you'll cry when my back is turned.”

— back in the present, you wore a pretty dress to your art exhibition. you chose "blue eyes" as a subject with multiple paintings representing Rafe's gaze in different expressions. you had even managed to capture his look when he was in love with you.

so, you hoped that this evening he would come, that he had accepted your invitation, that your letter had arrived safely at its destination. you had received so many compliments but none had made you happy, none had managed to really make you smile, even those from your boyfriend who you had found in the hallway kissing someone else.

you didn't even cry because you knew it. it was just more horrible to see him in real life because he looked so happy.

“get out of here.” you reacted without even shouting.

“baby wait, I can explain everything….”

"explain what to me? your explanations are stuffed in this girl's mouth right now."

"I'm not going to leave." he replied.

“ oh yes you will leave. and if I see a single tear on her face, surely not alive. but yea, dare you to stay.” a cold voice growled and warned behind your back that you recognized it by heart.

you turned to admire rafe who stood in front of you, still just as handsome, and above all taller. you wanted to be a pure and shed tears just to see your ex-boyfriend suffer but you were too busy rejoicing in rafe's presence.

“Who are you?” your ex-boyfriend replied.

"oh if I told you, I think it would break your heart but you don't seem to have one so I'll be honest. I'm definitely the only boy she likes. i'm sorry if she made you think that she has something for you. but believe me, will be nothing contrary to what i will do to you if your ass is still here in those free seconds i let you run.. "

“raf…”

he shushed you with his mouth. "You'll have your moment, but wait. this is a conversation for boys, and unless you're hiding a dick between your legs, you're not in."

you smiled at his stupidity. the two boys had gone out, and Rafe had returned a few minutes later.

“Oh my god, you didn’t cry,” you teased him gently about his whiny past, clapping your hands.

“Was I crying that much?”

“Like a baby.”

"but I have changed...and..."

you felt like the words were really struggling to come out. his voice was blocked and he didn't look you in the eye. he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I was totally stupid."

“apology accepted.”

“does that mean I have the right to a kiss?”

When you were little, you always gave Rafe a kiss on the cheek when he apologized. the memory made you smile tenderly.

you stood on your tiptoes to reach his lips with your mouth, and he lifted you by your ass to help you.

“you were always mine, baby. even when you left, even when he was here.”

“ because it’s as much to love you as to hate you, rafe cameron.”

“Is that why you dedicated this entire exhibition to me? I’m flattered.”

“you didn’t leave my head even though you left my life.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either. and I still think of you now. "

“ah yes? and what do your thoughts say about me?”

"that I finally have the girl I've always waited for. and that I still want her just as much."

"How about you show me how much...I mean...not with your lips, big boy. It's time to show me how much you've grown.”

you had gone to his hotel room after the party. he had accompanied you during the rest of the event, never taking his eyes off you as if he was afraid of losing you again. he even felt himself tighten his arm around your waist. he didn't keep his hands in his pocket, because you were there. and above all that you finally loved him.

it was beautiful. you had been the first person rafe cameron had loved, the first person he had broken his heart, and also, the first person who had loved him. you were destined to each others.

in his room, you were surprised to see how gentle he was with you, that he had softly placed your body on his sheets like a princess. he took off his t-shirt and you salivated just seeing his muscular chest, his arms turned into huge biceps, his flat stomach turned into voluminous abs with a magnificent v-line. “ It seems like you worked hard to please me. ”

“ oh babe, don't waste your drool on yourself when you can literally splash it on my dick. but maybe my girl wanted it dry”

“ you're really big now. ”

“ wait, something bigger is coming at you. ”

you were in love with the way your boy had become a man. you were proud of him, you undid his belt, and pulled him by the leather of the accessory before sliding it down and wrapping it around his neck to push him towards you and kiss him again. rafe was so desperate for you, he was hard in his pants to the point where it was painful, and even his tongue against yours was lost in a messy burst of both of you saliva.

he had spread your legs, and removed his pants, before pulling you against him by the thighs to bring you back against his hips.

“spit.” he held out his hand to let you spit on his palm and coated his hard cock with your drool, using your saliva as some kind of lube.

he started touching himself quickly, slowing up and down, a tight grip around his veiny and rocking length. you placed your fingers against his to accompany him in his movements, while devouring him with your eyes.

“fuck, you’re too good for me.”

“so make me as bad as you.” you responded by separating the two lips of your cunt with your fingers to show him the way. “fuck me. now.”

“did you have sex with him?”

“no…” you admitted shyly. “I’m still a virgin. Does that bother you?”

“I’ve already had sex, does that bother you?”

"no, because I'm sure you've never been able to cum without thinking about me. You're so obsessed with me.”

he pushed his leaking and wet tip against your soaked folds, rubbing himself lightly on them. “can I ?”

“oh rafe, it's only if you don’t do it that we’re going to have a problem.” you laughed gently.

and it didn't take more for him to split your pussy with his throbbing dick to startly making his way inside you. he had done it gently, partly because he didn't want to hurt you, but because you were incredibly tight. he held your hands, before placing his lips on yours, and driving you crazy with slow thrusts, his hips gently bucking against yours.

his cock stretched you softly, moving back and forth and sliding inside your canal that surrounded every inch of his dick. once he felt your body relax, he fasted up the pace, your moans automatically becoming louder. you had never been fucked until now, but you understood now, why people liked it.

rafe was completely buried in you from his tip, to the pelvis which was slamming against your thighs and the mattress. he couldn’t be more in love with you. you were perfect.

he loved hearing your screams from across the room, knowing that he was the only one to make you moans like that. you were completely wet, and your dripping pussy helped him pound you quicker, and especially harder. he couldn't get enough of your face completely ruined by tears and pleasure, but especially of your walls squishing him until he felt his own stomach twitching by your trembling body sticking to his, the way your part convulsing around him as the strokes went deeper and deeper.

the bottom lip of your mouth was covered in your own saliva, your back arched against the sheets, and your entire body stimulated, spasms covering it, and forcing you to squirm in every direction.

his blue eyes were lost in your gaze. you didn’t know how but he always managed to go further, hitting every sensitive gummy and soaked spot only to ram it again.

you let out a muffled and depraved sound when his cock slammed into your insides all the way to your stomach. you threw your head back, completely losing control.

“I'm never going to stop and you never going to leave if you keep giving me those eyes. don't feel dizzy now, it's just the beginning. ” he blurted out as he continued to pound you, making your pussy dripping even more all over him, leaving him no choice but to speed up his movements to avoid any waste of your fluids. “ i really want to fuck you all the night. don't make that face, you made me wait for more than fucking ten years, it's just now so fair. ”

you had already had an orgasm, but his energy had doubled. you didn't know what time you stopped, but when you woke up, you were completely exhausted like your body had been used all night.

you wondered how different your relationship was going to be now, and if rafe was going to take responsibility for everything he did last night. you had too many questions, and not enough answers. you took a shower while waiting for him to wake up.

when you finally had the chance to have the famous conversation, you asked him. “do you regret it?”

"that you didn't let me do this way before? yes. for doing it last night? no. another question, babe?"

"yes. well, it's not a question. I don't really know how long I've loved you. I mean, you know the day you fell in love with me. whereas I realized that when I didn't stop painting your face I thought it was your absence but it was stronger than that. when we were young, we were dumb and clumsy. but thank you to let me come back because we finally found the right moment."

“you know very well that you never had to ask for anything to get everything you want from me. all is yours. ”

— tysm for reading 🫶🏿‼️

[rafeandonlyrafe]

almost sweet music

words: 900

warnings: 18+ only, smut, thigh job, clit rubbing, brief tit play, childhood friends to lovers, kinda somnophilia?

your eyes are open, but they might as well be closed as you look at nothing but pure darkness. you shift ever so slightly, pressing further into rafes hold.

it's not the first time you've shared a bed. he's been your friend for years, and you used to have sleepovers every weekend before your bodies developed and it became awkward.

you would still occasionally fall asleep in rafes bed, usually when the movie he picked to watch was too boring, or when you were waiting around for him and ended up taking a nap enveloped in his scent.

tonight is different. even when you share a bed, rafe never cuddles so close to you like this. yeah, you'll wake up with your head on his chest or a leg slung over his, but rafe is pressed right against your back.

his chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, but you can't tell for certain if he's asleep or just relaxed having you against him.

you close your eyes, relaxing back into his hold. his soft breath fans over your shoulder, barely covered by your tank top strap.

you're about to fall asleep when you feel something poking you. your eyes open again, wider this time as rafes hip press forward.

his obvious erection grinds against your ass, slow movements fooling you into believing rafe must be asleep still, body acting on its own, much like yours does when you seek him out in your sleep.

rafe let's out a soft moan, then a mumble of your name, and now you're certain he must be awake since you've never heard him sleep talk before.

his hips begin to move faster, like he's testing out how far he can take it before you wake up. how much movement will it take for you to stir, testing how much he can get away with.

you stiffen for a brief moment before relaxing again. you squeeze your eyes shut as you try to keep your breathing regular. you don't want rafe to stop. 

to others, it's been a clear (and long) game you've been playing, both pining after each other while claiming to just be best friends. this is the first time rafe has shown any clear evidence to you of his sexual attraction. what you don't see is his longing looks whenever your back is turned, or the way he's quick to go after any guy who looks at you for a little too long.

you let out a silent curse in your head. of course he's only doing this because he thinks your asleep as he moves faster against you, barriers of fabric in the way but not stopping his light moans, almost sweet music against your ears.

you wonder how long he's been pushing up against you before it woke you up. you consider your options. sit here silently, let him cum in his pants, or take action, show you're awake, and change your life forever.

you're done with the game as you reach down, startling rafe as he lets out a curse, but you simply pull your shorts down along with your underwear, revealing your bare ass as you spread your thighs, pussy on show and already starting to get wet.

you wait for rafe to continue. when it's clear he won't, you reach behind your back to pull his cock out of his pajama pants.

rafe follows your motions, taking your lead and going as far as you will allow as you rub his cock through your folds before closing your thighs around him.

“keep going.” you say. 

the words is all the encouragement rafe needs as he begins to thrust, the slick between your thighs growing as he pushes against you.

a hand that was holding you close to him travels to your pussy, rubbing you with a single finger, the pad rough against your sensitive clit.

the sound of slapping skin is a telltale sign of what is happening in the dark, as rafes hips meet your ass with every thrust.

you long for him to press into your cunt, but you know you need to have an actual discussion about what this is before allowing him to fuck you properly. the thighs will have to do.

rafe rubs faster, with a clear purpose as his cock swells. you can tell he's not far off, and the pure excitement from finally being with rafe also has your high growing.

you press further into his chest as your thighs squeeze together as tight as you can force them, letting out a moan when rafe spills, cum spurting through the gap onto the bed sheet.

he leaves his cock to soften between your legs as his finger keeps working on you, free hand coming to grab your chest over your shirt, hand possessively gripping your tits until your back arches, a strangled moan leaving your lips as you cum.

rafes hands disappear from off of you. you turn to face him, but can't see his expression.

“im-im sorry.” his words are enough for you to pinpoint where his mouth is as you lean in, pressing your lips together in a heated kiss.

“we can talk about it in the morning.” you say, tucking yourself back into his side. “we will cuddle and sleep and be in a much clearer headspace.”

rafe hesitates for a second before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, a soft smile on his face as your breathing returns to normal, not allowing himself to fall asleep until he hears your gentle snores.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @akirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @edszn @theoraekenslover

[keikikait]

ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

based on a request by @milesdrift

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 10.5k

summary: you reconnect with an old friend while seeking quiet refuge from the midsummers party

warnings: longtime friends to lovers, kook!reader & kook!rafe, emotional rafe comes out for like 2 seconds, drunk rafe, light-medium angst, soft rafe, fluff?, talk of anxiety, topper is a bitch, blackmail is mentioned but it's not actually done, not proofread

a note: ik its long i don't wanna talk about it

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Although you and Rafe had grown up together, you weren’t the best of friends anymore.

Your father and Rafe’s father, Ward, were business partners. Your father handled the financial side of everything, while Ward was the face of it all. You had spent countless dinners at his house, spent more summer nights than you can remember in his backyard, helping your dad grill. You were a fellow Kook, and while your house wasn’t as extravagant as Tannyhill, you still grew up in Figure 8 with the rest of them. 

You and Rafe were close at one point, spending some of your elementary years closer than ever before. You spent every waking second together, but everything changed when you both went to middle school; he started getting angrier, louder, and soon just completely ditched you for his new friends Topper and Kelce. You spent so much time watching him from the sidelines, and you spent a few years crushing on him, admiring him from afar and just wondering what it would be like to be his. It wasn’t until you went to Kildare Academy alongside him, Topper, and Kelce, that you realised he would never feel the same way. After all, you weren’t exactly a close friend of his anymore.

At least, you thought you weren’t. It wasn’t long after hearing of Ward’s death that Rafe was on your doorstep, drunk out of his mind and soaked to the bone from the rain. It was late, almost 11 PM, and you had let him in, giving him a towel and some of your older brother’s old clothes to borrow for the night. He wouldn’t mind anyway, he was engaged and living in Raleigh with his fiancée, doing something in IT and tech. Rafe eagerly accepted the clothes, although you had to help him change, trying your hardest to keep your eyes and hands from wandering while you helped him out of his old wet clothes.

The dryer hums from down the hall as it runs, tossing his clothes around. Rafe lies on your bed, his legs hanging off the end, his feet flat on the ground. You sit next to him, water bottle in hand, watching him. He has his arm thrown over his eyes, blocking out the soft light of your bedside table lamp.

You swallow, moving a little closer to him. “You okay?”

“Mm.” He grunts in response, still keeping his eyes covered. He didn’t smell the best, the smell of weed and hard liquor practically wafted off of his soaked form. The alcohol, though, seemed to be the main thing that took its toll on him. He was a mess of a man as it was, but when he drowned himself in alcohol like this, you weren’t even sure that it was Rafe in the room with you anymore.

“I heard what happened, I um…” You hesitate, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry, Rafe.”

“Don’t,” He says, raising his arm from his face just enough to glare at you through the crack in his arm. “Don’t you dare pity me.”

“I’m not pitying you,” You say. “I really am sorry, Rafe.”

“Yeah, you seem real sorry,” He huffs, dropping his arm back in place, blocking out the light again. “Sitting there, staring at me with your big doe eyes.”

Your face gets warm, and you bite back a smile. “I let you in, didn’t I? I could’ve kicked you to the curb. But I didn’t.”

“Mm, you’re such a saint, you know that?” He grumbles, although this time he did let out a bit of a chuckle. He drops his hand down onto his chest, resting it just above his heart as he tilts his head towards you.

You lay down next to him, your shoulders touching, your legs dangling next to his. Your voice is soft when you speak, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He turns his head towards you, his body following suit, rolling to his side, so his whole body faced you now. He stays quiet for a moment, just looking at you, before shaking his head and letting out a sigh. “What is there to talk about?” He grumbles again. “He got shot and fell off that stupid fucking cliff. Now there’s a big, father-shaped hole in my life now. End of story.”

“Did he ever even fill that hole?” You ask quietly. You immediately regret your words, but it seems like Rafe doesn’t even care.

“I… no. No, not really,” He admits, swallowing around a knot in his throat. “But it’s a hole I was counting on… one day filling. And now there’s no chance for that.” He rolls onto his back again and covers his face with his hands. After a few seconds, you hear his breathing get heavier as his shoulders shake up and down.

He’s crying.

You roll over to face him, wrapping one arm across his chest and over his shoulder. “No, hey come on, it’s okay.”

Rafe doesn’t fight your hold, and he shifts onto his side in front of you, facing you as you pull him into your embrace. He buries his face into your shoulder, his hands grabbing at your sides, holding onto you tightly as he begins to sob.

You rub his back with one hand, the other cupping the back of his head. “It’s okay, Rafe. It’ll be okay.”

His whole body shakes against yours as he cries, his fingers grabbing and clinging tightly onto your sides, like you were the only thing keeping him together. Rafe’s nose presses into the crook of your neck, his warm, shaky breaths ghosting against your skin as he cries against your shoulder. His voice is so soft you almost didn’t hear him. “I want my dad.”

Your heart shatters, and you pull him closer, fighting back tears of your own. “I know, Rafe. I know. I’m sorry.”

His arms wrap around your back, enveloping you in his arms, and his legs hook around one of yours, pulling you in closer to him, as if he’s hoping that if he holds you tightly enough he would be able to hold himself together. For a few long moments, he falls silent, the only sound being the faintest hitch in his breathing every couple of moments. Eventually, Rafe speaks again, his voice muffled against your neck. “I really messed up.”

“No, you didn’t.” You say, tightening your grip on him. 

“Yes, I did,” He whispers, nuzzling himself further against you. You can feel one of his hands trail up your back, his fingers tangling into your hair. It almost seems like he’s trying to melt himself into you. “Everything I’ve ever done… everything I’ve ever said… I did so many things just to try and-and make him proud of me. Everything I did was never enough to make him see me the way I wanted him to. But I still kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing. For what? For nothing. For absolutely nothing,” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “I wanna know it’s not my fault. I didn’t mean it.”

Your eyes well with tears, and you quickly wipe them away. “It’s not your fault, Rafe. You didn’t pull the trigger. You didn’t push him. It’s not your fault.”

His fingers tighten in your hair as his lips drag against your neck, leaving a damp trail across your skin. “I could’ve been a better-a better son,” He whispers against your neck. “I-I could’ve tried harder, I could’ve been better. I-” He chokes back another wave of tears, his whole body trembling in your grip. “He was never proud of me.”

“You don’t know that,” You whisper. “He always talked to my dad about you. My dad said you were all Ward talked about. Not Sarah or Wheezie. You.”

“That doesn’t mean he was proud of me.” Rafe mumbles. His hand that has been gripping your side released its hold on your shirt, his fingertips trailing up your side as he shifts ever so slightly in front of you. His fingers brush against the edge of your shirt, slipping under the baggy fabric and settling against your bare skin. His palm presses flat against your side, holding you, fingers spreading out over your skin.

“You don’t know that he wasn’t.” You say.

He slowly lifts his face from your neck, his fingers gliding along the curve of your side as he pulls away. Rafe swallows hard, his eyes fixed on you. He looks like a mess; his eyes red and puffy from crying, his face red and patchy from wiping his tears away. His eyes flicker down to your throat, and he pauses for a moment, his lips slightly parted as he studies your skin. When he finally speaks again, his voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper. “I feel sick.”

“Do you need to vomit?” You ask.

“I don’t know.” He croaks, his hand still lingering against your side, his fingers gently brushing back and forth across your skin. Something in his eyes seems a bit… off. Normally, he was loud, and cocky, a bit obnoxious at times, but still somehow charming. Right now, though, he seemed… vulnerable. Broken down. He was exposed in ways that you didn’t even know he could be. You hadn’t ever realised how blue his eyes were before now.

“Come on, honey,” The nickname slips out without much thought as you help him sit up. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

He doesn’t have it in him to protest your help, and he lets you ease him up and guide him to his feet. He kept one hand around your torso, his other wrapping around your shoulder as he lets you guide him towards your bathroom, practically stumbling behind you as he tried to walk. His grip on you stayed steady, fingers pressing into your side and digging into your skin.

You push open the door to the en-suite bathroom, helping Rafe kneel down by the toilet. “If you need to vomit, just do it. Don’t hold it in, okay?”

He swallows, still stumbling slightly as he knelt there in front of the toilet. “Okay.” He croaks. A few moments pass, and then suddenly Rafe’s whole body tenses up, and he lurches forward at the waist, leaning over the toilet. He gags, the first few being dry gags and coughs, before, after another heave, Rafe lets loose the rest of his stomach contents into the toilet, throwing up everything in his stomach.

You look away, rubbing his back. “There you go. Better out than in.”

He stays hunched over the toilet bowl for several long minutes, coughing and dry heaving. It finally passed, but he still knelt there, heaving and gagging. “I-“ He started hoarsely, a trail of spit dripping out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes still red and puffy. His shoulders shook once, and you could’ve sworn it was another heave, but when he finally spoke again you nearly choked at the sound of how wrecked his voice was. “I need a drink…”

You let out a small chuckle, grabbing some toilet paper and wiping his mouth. “You’re drinking water only.”

He lets you wipe his mouth, and he watches you through tired, bleary eyes. “I-“ He tries to protest, before his face turns a little green again. He grumbles, then sighs, mumbling against your touch. “No booze?”

“No booze.” You say.

“Okay, okay, fine.” He mumbles, sighing again as his shoulders drop in defeat. “No booze, then. Just… I need something. I need to- I need to-” He pauses halfway through his sentence, swallowing hard as he suddenly leans forward at the waist again, hovering over the toilet. He gags again, a thin trail of spit connecting his lip to the rim of the bowl, before he leans back again, gasping and panting.

You look away, quickly rushing back to your bed to grab the water bottle. You head back into the bathroom, rubbing his back as he pukes again. “There we go.”

He heaves and coughs for several more moments before finally collapsing back against your touch, sagging into your hand on his back. His head falls forward, his face against his shoulder, forehead pressed against his arm as it rests against his knee. He looks and sounds like a wreck, his whole body trembling in front of you. He’s a mess. A complete, utter, heartbreaking mess. 

His voice comes up, hoarse and ragged. “You… you called me honey.”

“I did.” You say, wiping his mouth again. You uncap the water and pour some into his mouth. 

He doesn’t argue, his mouth parting readily when you hold the bottle to his lips. He closes his eyes as a few mouthfuls of cool water washes away the taste of vomit, and a soft groan escapes his throat when you pull the water away. When his eyes finally open again, his gaze shifts back to you, and that same look is still in his eyes. The same lost, brokenness that made your chest ache for him.

You hand him the bottle. “Do you wanna stay here tonight?”

Rafe stares down at the bottle, his hand coming up to wrap shakily around it. His fingers linger against yours a moment longer than needed, touching your fingertips for a brief second before withdrawing, his fingers sliding down the cold plastic of the water bottle. After a long moment of silence, he finally speaks, his voice hoarse and raw from the vomiting. “… Yes. Please.” He whispers.

“Come on,” You say softly, helping him to his feet. “There’s a guest room down the hall.”

He lets you pull him to his feet, stumbling to his feet without much resistance. He was clearly exhausted and worn out from vomiting, but even so, when you tried to remove your hold from him, he protested. His fingers wrapped around your wrists loosely, his gaze fixed on you, as if he was practically begging you not to let him go. “No,” He whines. “I… I need to be with you. I can’t be alone right now.”

“Okay,” You say softly, slipping your hands into his. “You can stay with me.”

He lets out a soft sigh, the tension leaving his shoulders as your fingers slide into his. His fingers intertwine with yours, and his thumb brushes against the back of your hand. Although he seemed like he wanted to say something to you - his lips parted, and his gaze dropped to watch your fingers, he seems to change his mind at the last second, and simply squeezes on your hand. After a beat, he gives your hand a tug, gently pulling you towards your bed.

You climb in next to him, already in your pyjamas from earlier in the night. You give him an extra pillow, letting him get comfortable. He lets out a sigh, pulling his knees up towards his chest a bit as he turns his head to face you. One arm slips between the pillow and his head, propping it up slightly, while the other finds its way to your side, resting there on the other side of your body. “Rafe?” You ask, your voice quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Why'd you come here?” You ask. “I'm not, like, upset, but... we aren't very close anymore, you know?”

To answer that question, Rafe reaches his hand that’s on your side up a bit, his fingers trailing up your shirt and settling on your stomach, his palm laying flat against the soft skin of your stomach. His fingers trace soft lines back and forth against your abdomen absently, like he was trying to soothe himself just by touching you. “Because I need someone right now,” He replies after a long moment of silence. “And… you’re the only one that I’ve never been scared to tell I was hurting. Top and Kel… they wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t comfort me, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” You say softly. “I’m glad you came back to me.”

“Thanks for letting me in.” He mumbles in response, his fingers still tracing lines over your stomach. It was something that he must’ve unconsciously started to do once he laid his hand against you, but it still sent shivers down your spine when you felt his gentle touch on your skin. 

You pull him into a hug, your voice still soft. “Get some sleep, Rafe.”

Rafe doesn’t protest this time as you tug him into a hug. His arm tightens around your back, and he squeezes a bit in your embrace, drawing himself in a bit closer. He lets out a soft sigh, his face pressing into your neck, and his body finally slumps against you. “Goodnight.” He mumbles against your skin.

“Goodnight.” You whisper.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

You don’t remember the last time you journaled. 

The morning after, Rafe left in a rush, leaving only a pile of your brother’s clothes in his wake. You spent a little too long staring at the ceiling, the feelings you felt for him so long ago coming back to rear its ugly head. You flipped over, pulling the drawer open and digging around in your bedside table, pulling out the leather-bound journal and a ballpoint pen.

You let your stream of consciousness out, filling out pages and pages about your night with Rafe and your conflicted feelings. You don’t date the entry, quickly shoving it back into your bedside table for another day. You spend the rest of your day stuck in limbo, wondering, thinking about your next interaction with Rafe. What would he say? Would he even acknowledge you? Did Topper and Kelce know about your night together?

You didn’t want this to control you as it used to; spending hours awake at night, wanting and praying that Rafe would see you in the same way you saw him. Praying that Rafe liked you, not whatever Kook girl caught his eye that night. You didn’t want to pine for him anymore, wandering behind him through the desert, hoping he’ll lead you to an oasis. You always wanted him when you were finally fine. You kept journaling, though, filling pages upon pages with your thoughts, whether Rafe was even in them or not. You decided to push him aside, to only speak to him if he spoke to you first. Out of sight, out of mind. And it worked. You didn’t think about him for weeks, even when you would see him at the corner store or at the gas station. He didn’t approach you, so you didn’t approach him.

You had managed to move on again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It was taunting you on your calendar. The Midsummers Party.

You hated it every year. It was one of the town events that gave you the most anxiety. You hated the crowds, the loud music, and the aura that surrounded you; your fellow Kooks thinking that they were better than the people on the south side of Kildare just because their mommy and daddy had more money. You were supposed to hate the Pogues, it was supposed to be ingrained in your DNA, but you didn’t. Why would you just hate someone purely because they didn’t have as much money as you? You were grateful for your life, grateful for the life that your father and mother built for you and your brother. You didn’t want to take it for granted like some of your fellow Kooks did.

Your dress was simple; a flowy, pink, low cut linen midi dress with thin straps, a $35 steal you got from a thrift store on the mainland. You hunted through your closet for your old sandals, putting them on before checking your outfit in the mirror again. You looked cute, which was the most important part. You would spend the entire time sitting in the corner alone anyway, trying to get yourself to relax. You grab your bag and your keys off of your bed, and you’re a few steps out the door when you get a nagging feeling. You sigh, looking back into your bedroom, fingers tapping on the door frame as you start to contemplate.

The journal and the pen join the belongings in your bag before you leave, shutting and locking the door behind you.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

The Island Club is already lively when you arrive, giving your key to one of the valets. You slip him a large tip before heading inside the country club. The country club is abuzz as you take a step inside, music thumping throughout the house as you pass through the massive front room and make your way towards the outdoor seating. Pogues and Kooks alike mill about, chatting amongst themselves and laughing heartily as they make their way indoors and out. The whole club smells like food, and smoke wafts through the air from the various barbecues that are going on throughout the outdoor patio area.

You were already overwhelmed. The chatter is nearly deafening in your ears, the various sounds of people talking and music blaring from speakers filling your head. You feel like you can’t breathe. You don’t want to be here, stuck in this country club full of people. Everyone here is loud and drunk and happy. 

And you’re drowning in the sea of it all.

Across the country club, leaning against the bar, is Rafe. Midsummers was always fun for him. Loud music, endless drinks and even more pretty Kooks, all there to celebrate one of the most exclusive events on the island. As the sun set, the dance floor was filled with couples, dancing against one another and getting drunk on endless bottles of rum. He stood around a group of his friends, drinking and talking with a smile on his face. His gaze was always drifting out to the sea of Kooks and Pogues before him, but it lingered every so often when a pretty girl passed.

The bar was packed with people, all clamouring and fighting to try and get a drink before the entire bar was empty and the Pogues would end up stuck drinking piss beer from kegs out on the patio. You push your way through the crowd to the bar, squeezing yourself up next to a couple other people and waiting your turn to actually get the attention of one of the bartenders. You fumble with your wallet and get your ID out, managing to order a tequila sunrise; your go-to drink for a fancy, Kook heavy event, something sweet to mask the hard liquor inside but still strong enough to distract you from your impeding thoughts. You grip the edge of the bar tightly, closing your eyes as you take one more deep breath, trying to block out the noisy chaos around you. Just a few drinks and then you can escape to the beach and hope no one will find you.

You look around and meet Rafe’s gaze from the other side of the bar. He’s been watching you since the moment you entered the country club. He flashes you a small smirk, his eyes lingering on you as people bustle and push around you, filling up the bar and blocking him out from you. He watches you for another moment, his body still slouched against the bar, talking to the people around him, before he finally pushes himself up, and starts to weave through the crowd towards you instead.

You grab your drink, handing the bartender a cash tip before turning around, meeting Rafe face to face. “Uh, hey.”

“Hey,” He replies with a charming smile, taking a step closer to you, standing just a bit closer than was strictly necessary. “Fancy seeing you here,” He muses, raising his beer to his lips and taking a sip. “Thought you hated Midsummers.”

“I do, but uh…” You sigh. “My parents want me to be here, so…”

“Right,” Rafe sighs softly, taking another drink of his beer. His eyes flick up and down your form as he does, the corner of his lips twisting up in a slight smirk. “Well, I’m glad I get the privilege of seeing you all dressed up, then.”

You feel your face grow warm. “Yeah, I guess.”

He chuckles at how awkward you are, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment before flicking back down to your body. “You look nice, by the way.” He compliments. It was genuine enough, his gaze lingering over your curves and the low neckline of your dress, before they flick back up to your face.

“Thanks,” You say. “You do too.”

That little compliment sends a jolt through Rafe's chest, and he tries to keep his face as neutral as possible so that you don’t see. He doesn’t get compliments like that often - not genuine ones, anyway. He smiles to himself, his face softening a bit before he catches himself. “Yeah, well, I gotta look good, you know?” He replies, giving you a wink before taking another swig of his beer.

“Yeah, uh…” You look behind him and immediately make eye contact with Topper, who doesn’t advert his eyes. You look away, stirring your drink with the straw. “Well, I won’t keep you. Have fun, alright?” You walk away before Rafe can respond, pushing through the crowd to find a seat.

He lets out a sigh, watching you disappear into the crowd, before pushing himself away from the bar, and returning to the group he was with. Topper and Kelce both look his direction as he comes up to them.

“What was that about?” Kelce asks, raising a brow. 

Rafe shrugs, bringing the beer bottle to his lips. “I’ll catch up with her later.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

You try to enjoy Midsummers. You really do.

You drink your tequila sunrise rather quickly, hoping the warmth of the alcohol with calm your nerves, but it does the opposite. It’s overwhelming - the lights, the music, the people. Every once in a while a hand will grab your ass, or brush against your side as it reaches past you, and it’s all slowly becoming suffocating. Your heart pounding in your ears drowns out the shitty house music, and you feel nauseous as you make your way through the crowd, trying to find the exit to the patio. 

Your escape into the patio doesn’t seem to do much, though. The patio is just as full as the house, people sitting in the outdoor seating to eat and talk while others dance. A bonfire burns in the corner, and a few small groups stand about it, talking and drinking and laughing. You take a deep breath, feeling the cool sea air on your skin as you make your way through the patio, heading towards the beach entrance. You had to get away, your skin already starting to itch with discomfort.

You finally make it to the beach entrance, the sounds of the party in the country club fading slightly as you take in the sound of the ocean instead. It’s cooler here than inside the club, but somehow even the beach is still packed. Couples sit together against the dunes, talking quietly in hushed whispers, and the air is thick with the smell of weed as people pass joints between one another.

You can feel yourself getting annoyed, getting angry. You just wanted some goddamn peace and quiet, away from the loud ass Pogues and the other Kooks with their leering gazes. You walk through the sand, sandals in hand, trying to find an empty spot. It takes a few moments of walking across the beach to finally find an empty spot, surrounded by a cliffside, though it’s not much of one. You’re far enough from the party that the light from the bonfire on the patio doesn’t reach you, and the music and the laughter is faint from far away. Still, you’re just close enough to the country club that you can hear the thumping bass.

You’re surrounded on all sides by couples that have gathered on the beach, too. You can hear their whispers and laughter, quiet intimate moments in the setting sun, and it just seems to make you angrier. You take a deep breath, keeping your eyes on the sun as it settles into the horizon, watching the colours change.

The sun slips behind the horizon, the sky slowly fading from purple and orange to the black of night, lit up only by pale stars and a crescent moon. The air grows colder as night creeps in, a soft breeze sweeping off the ocean, carrying the sound of the waves hitting into a soft roar in your ears. It’s still too loud. The voices of the couples on the beach next to you and the music from the club don’t allow any kind of peace, no quiet moments for you to just breathe.

You set your bag down beside you, digging through it to pull out your journal and your pen. You start to write another entry, undated, just like the rest of them. It’s just pages of your thoughts, your emotions, your feelings, words pouring out of you in the dim light of the setting sun. It’s just your stream of consciousness, all the things you’re feeling and thinking. It feels good, like a release to just unload it all onto the page, and every word that comes off of your mind and into the journal just serves to relieve the growing tension in you. Your shoulders start to droop, your mind too focused on writing and the sound of the crashing waves to pay attention to the couples around you.

The world fades away, and it’s just you, the crashing of the waves, and your pen on the page. Your mind empties and it’s finally so, so quiet, the weight off of your shoulders almost lifting you up entirely. You’re so focused, so deep into your writing, finally having the peace and quiet you were wanting--

The pen nearly flies out of your hand when you jump, feeling someone tap on your shoulder. You quickly shut the journal, your head spinning around. “Jesus, dude! You scared the shit out of me!”

And there’s Rafe, standing there behind you, a grin on his face as he watches you quickly clutch your journal to your chest. He puts out a placating hand, giving you an almost innocent look. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin the moment.” 

You sigh, your shoulders tense again. “It’s fine.”

His face falls slightly, no longer grinning, as he notices just how tense you are. He glances around for a moment, taking in the couples on the beach around you all curled up to one another. He swallows, looking back to you. “You alright?”

“Fine, just…” You sigh again. “Overwhelmed, I guess. I get bad anxiety at things like this. I can normally handle it, but…”

He watches you for a second, studying your face, the way you hold the journal to your chest, the way your shoulders are still tense. The way you’re clearly still on edge. He slowly sits down next to you, the sand shifting under him. He stretches out his legs in front of him, dropping his hands into the sand, and his knee pressed against yours. You slip your journal and pen back into your bag.

He stays quiet, just sitting with you, listening to the waves and the sounds of the couples next to you. He finally speaks after another moment, his voice quiet. “Why’d you come if it makes you so anxious?”

“My parents,” You say. “They expect me to come. I have to, for like appearances and stuff. The ladies at my mom’s book club like to gossip, you know?”

He lets out a quiet snort, nodding. “Yeah, I get the whole appearances thing. This whole party is basically just an excuse for the Kooks to flaunt their money and kiss ass.”

You chuckle, nodding. “Yeah. Exactly.”

He smiles a bit to himself as you laugh quietly, but his gaze still watches you for a moment longer before he turns to look forward, watching the waves as they crash into one another and spill onto the beach. He’s quieter than usual tonight. Usually he’d make some kind of smart ass comment to go with his answer, but tonight he seems almost pensive.

You sigh, leaning your head against the side of his bicep. “It’s just so loud in there and people kept touching me. I don’t know how you do it.”

Rafe’s shoulders tense at your touch, but he doesn’t pull away from you, he just lets you lean against him for a long moment. He swallows a little bit, his hand twitching in the sand in-between you too, before he finally speaks again. “You get used to it, after a while.”

You hum in response. “Is it cool that I’m doing this?”

“Yeah,” He replies quickly, his shoulders finally relaxing as he takes in a deep breath. It’s silent for another moment, but the way his muscles relax under your touch makes it clear that he appreciated it. “Yeah, it’s fine. You can do whatever you want.”

“Thanks, Rafey.” You mumble, the old nickname tumbling out. “I’m feeling better already.”

Rafe stiffens at that nickname, his breath catching in his throat just for a second. He was surprised to hear it again - it had been years since he’d last heard you call him that. He swallows, forcing himself to stay calm as the nickname stirs a little bit of that old feeling in his chest. “Yeah, you look a little better too. Less green.”

You snort. “Thanks.”

He gives you a slight nudge with his elbow, smirking a bit at your snort, but his smirk fades almost immediately, his face falling back into a more thoughtful look. He stays silent another moment, still listening to the waves and the couples around you, but his thoughts seem to be a million miles away. He finally speaks again, voice quiet. “How often do you get anxious? At events like this, I mean.”

“I’m anxious from the second I arrive until the second I leave,” You say. “I’m not built for crowded events. I don’t like when people stare at me.”

He keeps his gaze on the ocean, but his shoulders sink a bit at hearing that. He never knew that, to be honest - he always assumed you were built for these kinds of parties, more at peace with crowds since you were born into it. The fact that you’re just as anxious as he used to be makes his chest ache a bit, and his gaze flicks over to you. “How’re you feeling now, though?”

“Better, now that you’re here.” You say, wrapping your arms around his bicep, leaning against him.

His breath catches again, his stomach jumping when you wrap your arms around his arm, and his hand twitches a bit, like he thought about wrapping it around you for a moment before he stopped himself. He swallows, but he still can’t fight the slight flush that rises up his neck as he stares forward, a small smile twisting at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah? Why, do I just have a calming aura?”

“It’s the familiarity, I guess,” You say. “I feel safe around you.”

Rafe’s shoulders relax a bit more at that answer, his face softening slightly, and his smile grows the slightest bit. He can feel his own heartbeat in his chest still, but he lets out a breath, trying to keep his cool. “Good, that’s uh… I mean,” He swallows, trying to think of what the right thing to say is, before settling for the truth. “I want you to feel safe around me.”

“Good.” You say. You look up at him, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. His gaze flicks back down to you again, and he looks down at you as you stare up at him, before he slowly raises a hand, lightly brushing a strand of hair out of your face. He studies you a moment, his gaze lingering on your face, taking in how calm you look now as you leaned against his side. There was something about you that Rafe was drawn to, and he couldn’t explain why. All he knew was that he loved the way you felt against him. For a split second, his gaze flicks down to your lips, the smallest moment where he’s tempted to lean down and kiss you.

He turns back to face the horizon, sneaking his arm out of your grasp and wrapping it around your shoulders, pulling you against him. You comply happily, wrapping your arms around his waist. He lets out a quiet sigh as you wrap your arms around his waist, his face flushing more as you get closer to him. He rests his cheek against the top of your head, looking forward towards the sea. It was so peaceful - the waves, the cool breeze, the feeling of your body against his. It was just perfect.

He breaks the silence. “You doin’ anything after this?”

“No,” You say, rubbing some of the material of his shirt between your thumb and pointer finger. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Rafe says, his hand moving up to absently play with the hair at the back of your neck. It sends shivers down your spine, and he smirks slightly, pulling you closer. “Havin’ an after party if you wanna come. Top and Kel already left to get it started.”

“Who’s gonna be there?” You ask.

“The boys,” He says with a slight shrug, running a finger along the side of your neck, tracing it along your skin. “Some people from the club too. But I want you there, if you think you'll be okay.” He adds as an afterthought, his hand settling gently against the side of your neck, his thumb ghosting back and forth against your skin.

“Promise to take care of me?” You ask, your tone joking. 

Rafe chuckles a bit, smiling lightly as you joke. He nods, running his thumb in small, comforting circles against your skin. “I'll look after you. I won't let you out of my sight.”

“Then I’ll do it,” You say. “Should be fine. I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

He smiles, leaning his head down and pressing a whispery kiss to the top of your head. “Good, cause I want you there. Everyone else sucks.” His thumb brushes along your neck one more time before he draws his hand back, returning it to rest on top of one of your arms around his waist. His gaze flicks from the ocean back to you, studying your face again as you leaned against him. “Can I tell you somethin’?”

You nod, looking back over the horizon. Rafe takes a deep breath, his hand absently rubbing up and down your back as he gathers his words, trying to decide how to say this without ruining everything. He was always awkward when it came to things like this, and having a beautiful girl in his arms made it even more difficult to say. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You ask.

His eyes linger on yours for another moment before he speaks again. “For leaving you that morning without saying goodbye. I was… I was just scared. Scared after losing Ward. I just had to go home.”

You smile softly, squeezing him. “It’s okay, Rafe. I understand. You were going through a lot.”

His shoulders relax as you squeeze him, a soft breath escaping him when you say you understand, and a soft smile appears on his face. He pulls you more snugly against him, his face flushed from your squeeze, and he presses another soft kiss to your head, letting out another one of those soft breaths. “Good, I’m glad you get that. Um… you know I care about you, right? Like, a lot. That’s… I mean, that’s not gonna change. I…” He trails off for a second, hesitating before finally continuing. “You mean a lot to me.”

“I care about you too, Rafey.” You whisper, looking back up at him.

His eyes soften, his stomach jumping. His heartbeat is still quick in his chest - he can still feel it through his ribs. He swallows quietly, a hand slipping up the side of your neck, fingers grazing up until they’re under your chin. He slowly raises your chin up, staring down into your eyes. “I’m glad,” You smile softly, leaning against his shoulder. His gaze lingers on your face for another moment, studying your sweet look a moment longer before he leans down, leaning his forehead against yours. The hand on your neck stays in place a moment, his thumb brushing your jaw, before sliding down your neck again. “You ready to get outta here?”

You nod. “Yeah. Ready when you are.”

He smiles softly, his thumb brushing over your neck one final time, before he slowly pulls away. He pushes himself up, groaning a bit as he straightens, his back popping. He reaches down and offers you a hand. “C’mon, beautiful.” 

Your face grows warm again as you take his hand, putting your bag over your shoulder. He pulls you up with ease, a hand wrapping around your waist to help steady you once you’re on your feet again. He lets out a soft sigh, looking at your face again, before starting to walk with his hand resting on your lower back, guiding you up the beach.

You make your way to the country club. You hang around outside, waiting for Rafe to say his goodbyes, as you wipe your sandy feet off on the grass, slipping your sandals back on. He doesn’t take long inside, giving a few last farewells to the few people still mingling in the country club before heading back out to you, still waiting for him. He can’t keep the slight smirk off of his face as he steps out, spotting you waiting around. “Ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” You say.

He smiles, walking over to you and resting his hand on your back again, guiding you away from the country club and towards the parking lot. His hand drops from your back when you get to his car, but his fingers brush your arm as he walks past you. He unlocks his truck before rushing around and opening up the passenger side door. “After you.” He said with a smirk.

You climb in, getting comfy. His car is always clean, a bottle of sunscreen and a water bottle in his cupholders. Dangling from the rearview mirror is a pear scented air freshener and a photo of him with his sisters Sarah and Wheezie. “Is it at your place?”

Rafe closes the door behind you and quickly walks around, getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car. He doesn’t immediately drive off, though, and instead just starts the car and leans back in his seat, letting it idle for a moment. “Mhm. My new place. That cool?” He asks, glancing over at you.

“Yeah, course.” You say.

“Good,” He says, pulling his seat belt on and pulling out of the parking lot, pulling out onto the road and driving towards his new house. The sun had set a while ago and the drive is peaceful, Head over Heels by Tears for Fears playing softly from the radio as the wind brushes through your hair from the slightly-open windows. You admire him as he drives, watching him quietly sing along, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

He doesn’t catch your eyes watching him until he glances over at you for a moment. He smiles when he catches you looking at him, his cheeks growing a bit warmer, but he quickly turns his gaze forward again, focusing on the road. He doesn’t say anything, just taps his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the music and keeps driving. As you approach his new house, he turns the radio off, Heat Of The Moment by Asia just getting seconds to start playing. He parks the car, quickly getting out to rush over to the passenger side to open the door for you.

“Thanks.” You say, hopping out.

“No problem.” He smiles, holding out a hand to help you out. When you’re safely on the ground again, he keeps your hand in his, shutting and locking the car before guiding you towards the house. As he does so, he glances down at you, his face growing a bit warmer when he realises that you’re now holding his hand.

He opens the door, the party already in full swing, music blasting while drunk Kooks grind up against each other. The house reeks of alcohol and weed, music blasting through the speakers and people talking loudly amongst themselves. The majority of the crowd appears to be drunk and/or high already, people swaying and staggering around each other, talking and laughing drunkenly. Rafe slips inside, pulling you along with him through the crowd, heading straight for the kitchen, where Topper and Kelce are, beers in hand while they talk to a few of Rafe’s other friends.

“Where can I put my bag?” You ask, keeping it close to you.

He looks at the bag, opening the fridge. “Yo, Top.”

Topper looks over. “Sup?”

Rafe grabs your bag, handing it to Topper. “Put this in my room and I’ll let you snort some lines.”

Topper seems intrigued by the promise of free cocaine, already heading out of the kitchen towards the stairs. 

“Thanks, Rafe.” You say. 

He shuts the fridge door. “No problem,” He watches Topper head off before turning back to you, resting his hand on your lower back. “You want a beer or somethin’?”

You shake your head, getting closer to him. “No, I’m good.”

He smiles softly, rubbing small circles with his thumb against your back. “You sure? Plenty of stuff you can try out.” He nods towards where the makeshift bar is set up in the living room, various bottles of liquor and hard alcohol all stacked up.

You shake your head again, fully leaning against him. “Nah. I’m good right now.”

He smiles, putting a bit of pressure against your back, pulling you closer. He’s a bit buzzed himself, a few drinks into the evening, and feeling good already. He leans down a bit, almost resting his chin on your head. “Alright, beautiful.” You lean against Rafe, head resting against his chest as he talks to his friends for a while, beer bottle in hand. You’re feeling a bit anxious, but all things considered, being right against him is providing you some comfort. Your eyes flutter closed for just a second before you open them again.

Topper approaches, a stupid smile on his face, definitely a little drunk. Rafe smiles, his hand absentmindedly playing with your hair for the time being. He glances over when Topper approaches, seeing the smile on his face. He lets out a snort, looking at his friend. “You snort something already?”

Topper ignores him, hands immediately going to cup your face. “You…” He shakes your head. “I know about you.”

“What?” You ask, trying to pull away.

“I know,” He repeats. “I know what you do.” He doesn’t let you go, his hands lingering on the sides of your face, though his hands are now a bit more rough.

Rafe’s face falls immediately, a bad feeling brewing in his gut. “Top, what are you talking about?”

“You left your journal in your bag,” Topper says, squeezing your face. “I read it. Couldn’t help myself.”

Your heart drops, a chill going over your skin. “What?”

Topper grins stupidly, still squeezing your face in a way that’s making you uncomfortable. “I read it.” He repeats. “You and all of your anxiety.”

Rafe’s eyes fill with dread as he hears that, his eyes widening slightly with terror. He swallows. “You weren’t supposed to read that, dude.”

“Oh, that’s not all!” Topper exclaims happily. “Someone…someone’s got a crush on you, Rafe.” Topper glances over at him. “A big, fat, gigantic crush on you. Half those pages are about you, man.”

You try to pull your face away, but his grip tightens. Your stomach twists and churns, hot, shameful tears welling in your eyes. Rafe’s heart drops into his stomach at Topper’s words, and his gaze flicks over to you almost immediately, his eyes widening when he sees the tears. He swallows, trying to stay calm as he takes a step forward. “Topper, let her go, man. Don’t do this right now.”

Topper lets go of your face, pushing you slightly. “Don’t tell me you pity her, man.”

“She didn’t do anything,” Rafe argues with his friend, clenching his hands into fists. “C’mon, man, you don’t gotta do this. Just leave her alone.”

“Hey, listen,” Topper grabs your arm when you try to walk away. “I won’t tell anyone. All you gotta do is get down on your knees and open your pretty mouth for me, alright? All you gotta do is put my balls in that pretty little mouth of yours, and I won’t tell a soul.”

Rafe pushes Topper away from you, sending him tumbling into the counter. “You’re being a dick, man, don’t say that shit to her. Come on.” 

Topper stands up and shoves him. “Don’t be a pussy, Rafe. She can handle it.”

“I don’t care if she can handle it, don’t fucking talk to her like that.” Rafe says angrily.

“Why do you care?” Topper asks. “You care about this little slut?” Rafe goes to lunge at him but stops himself, and it causes Topper to laugh. “What? You gonna hit me?”

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Rafe says. “Just shut up. Don’t talk to her like that. I won’t let you treat her that way. Quit being an asshole before I fuck you up.”

Topper laughs. “I could kick your ass, man, and you know that.”

“Yeah?” Rafe challenges. “Come on. Hit me.” He slaps his cheek over and over, inviting Topper to take a swing.

“Rafe, hey, stop,” You grab his arm. “Don’t fight. Come on.”

Rafe doesn’t look at you as you grab his arm, his eyes still locked on Topper’s, waiting for a punch, daring his friend to hit him. Topper hesitates, waiting for a moment before finally grinning and dropping his shoulders. “Look at that. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“You know what? Party’s over,” Rafe says. He cups around his mouth before yelling. “Everyone, get the fuck out!”

Almost immediately, everyone starts heading for the door, the party rapidly dying out as people start piling out into the night. The music dies down as Topper pushes past Rafe, his shoulder checking him on his way out. “Pussy.”

Rafe just clenches his fists, biting his lip, as he stands there and watches everyone leaving. The door slams shut with the final departure, and you look over at him, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear. “You okay?”

When the door shuts for the last time, he turns to look at you, his heart breaking at the sight of the tears in your eyes. He swallows, moving towards you and cupping your face, wiping away the other stray tears off of your face. “I’m good. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You say softly. 

“Good,” He says softly, sighing. He keeps his hands on your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You’re good. I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry about Topper.”

“It’s not your fault.” You say.

“Still,” He sighs. “You didn’t deserve that. That’s not how any of this should’ve happened.” He closes his eyes, resting his forehead against yours as guilt overflows his chest.

Your eyes close and you sigh, leaning into his hands. He lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes as he just feels you lean into him, a warm feeling going through his chest. He’s not even quite sure what to say, still overwhelmed from the events that have just unfolded in front of him. He just stands there with his eyes closed, pressing his face against your forehead. 

“He was telling the truth,” You say, breaking the silence. “About what he read. They’re all about you.”

He swallows, keeping his eyes closed for a few more seconds before slowly opening them again. “I know, beautiful.” He replies softly, his voice nearly a whisper.

Your stomach twists. “You knew that I liked you?”

“Yeah, I knew,” He replies softly. “I’ve known for a while.” He hesitates, his fingers grazing against your cheek. “Didn’t know you felt that strongly about me, though.”

Your bottom lip trembles as you pull away, trying not to cry. You felt so stupid. “They were… they were older entries, Rafe.” Although deep down, you knew you still felt the same way.

His face falls when you try to pull away, guilt filling his gut, and he quickly moves his hand to catch your wrist, trying to stop you. “Hey, wait, don’t pull away, please,” His eyes look sad when he sees that trembling lip, his grip tightening on your hand. “It’s okay, beautiful, please just stay.”

“No, no, you…” You shudder. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I’m not ‘doing’ anything, beautiful,” He says softly. “Stop pulling away. Stay. I’m trying to talk to you. I… I want to talk to you about this.”

“I know you don’t feel the same way, Rafe,” You say pathetically, starting to cry. “You don’t have to do this.”

He swallows, the guilt just building and building and building as he watches you start to cry, and he can’t stand to watch you cry for another second without doing something about it. He takes a step forward, taking your face in his hands. “Look at me.” You look up at him, whimpering slightly.

He gently wipes away your tears, his gaze locking on yours as he forces you to look him in the eye. His face is soft, his look comforting, and his own chest hurts just from looking at the hurt in your teary eyes. He swallows to collect himself before speaking. “I know they were older entries, but I know you still like me.”

You shake your head, but you didn’t know who you were trying to convince, yourself or Rafe. “Rafe, please, you don’t have to do this.”

He can tell that you’re trying to deny it, and when you start begging him not to do whatever he’s trying to say, he finally just breaks. “Stop.” He says, almost begging himself. His thumb presses against your jaw, trying to still you and get you to look into his eyes. “Please, just stop. Stop saying that I- that I don’t have to say anything. I need to say this.”

You nod, letting him talk.

He swallows again, trying to organise his words and say everything right in his mind before he says it all out loud. It’ll be too real if he does. He holds your face in his hands as he looks down at you, his own chest rising and falling as he tries to find the words. “I know that you still like me, and I know you’ve felt that way about me for a long time. But I just… I’m just terrified I’m going to mess it up. Like I always mess everything else up.”

“You don’t mess anything up.” You say.

He looks away for a moment before looking back into your eyes, swallowing. “Beautiful, I do. I mess everything up. That’s just who I am, I mess everything good up, and I can’t bear the idea of risking messing it up with you too. You matter too much to me. You, like, you actually mean something to me, and I just can’t stand the idea of not being able to be in your life because I messed everything up.”

“How would you mess this up?” You ask softly.

He takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself again. “I don’t know. I don’t know how, but I would. I mean, I screw everything else up, so why should this be any different? I’m gonna get too messed up and act too crazy and do something that pushes you away. And you’ll hate me, or, or worse, you’ll just go away. You’ll walk out of my life and it’ll just be like you were never there.”

“I’ll never leave you like that, Rafey.” You say, leaning into his palms.

He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling you lean into his hands. It feels so good, so right, that he can’t stand it. He lets out a breath before opening his eyes again, swallowing hard. “You say that now, beautiful, but it doesn’t change anything,” He says softly. “I know I’m gonna screw this up, I’m gonna do something that hurts you, and I just can’t stand the idea of ever hurting you, beautiful, I…” He trails off, his chest constricting as he desperately tries to get his words out. “I lost Ward. I'm loosing Sarah to that fucker John B. She doesn’t even go by Sarah Cameron anymore. I can't lose you too.”

“You’ll never lose me.” You say, moving your hands up to cup his.

He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing heavily as he feels the warmth of your hands wrapping around his, your words like a soothing touch to his own soul. It’s like everything inside him just settles at your words, a feeling he hadn’t realised he was craving for the longest time. He opens his eyes again, slowly, before looking down at you. “Promise?”

“I promise,” You say. “I…” You hesitate, sucking in a breath. His chest is a nervous wreck, his stomach twisting into so many goddamn knots as he just waits for your words, his eyes never once leaving yours.

You take a shaky, tear filled breath. “I love you.”

Everything falls silent. Rafe’s mind goes blank, all thoughts just vanishing from his head as those words fall from your lips. All that fills his head is your voice. I love you. I love you, it echoes, over and over and over again, bouncing around his mind like a ball in a dark room. He can’t think of anything else as those words just crash through his head, leaving everything in rubble. His heart feels like it’s stopped, that it’s just frozen in his chest, and he’s speechless.

Your bottom lip trembles again, a fresh new set of tears already welling in your eyes. “Please say something. Please do something.”

When you plead for him to speak or do something, it snaps him out of his daze, and his heart comes back to life. It starts pumping again like he’s run a mile, and suddenly he’s all movement as he suddenly pulls you against him, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He just holds you like that at first, hugging you tight tight tight, his head burying against the side of your neck, letting out a huge breath against your skin.

“You don’t have to say it back,” You say, wrapping your arms around him. “I know it’s hard for you to say, and you don’t have to say it back to me.”

He just hugs you tighter when you say that, his hands clutching at the back of your shirt. “Shut up,” He mumbles against the side of your neck, his voice a whisper. “Just shut up. You stupid, beautiful girl. Shut up. Shut up.”

You let out a small laugh, hugging him tighter.

Rafe hugs you even tighter at the sound of your laugh, his arms wrapped so tightly around your back that you might have trouble breathing soon. His heart is still beating a mile a minute, and he just wants to squeeze all the air out of you, so that you’re forced to only breathe him. He buries his face against your neck again, his voice a whisper when he speaks. “Say it again. Please.”

“I love you.” You whisper into his ear, kissing his temple.

His breath catches in his throat when you whisper those words again, saying them against his ear and kissing his temple, and he can’t take it. He squeezes you tighter, almost afraid you’re going to disappear if he doesn’t hold you tight enough, if he doesn’t hold you close enough. His lips suddenly press against your neck, kissing it over and over, his voice a shaky whisper. “I'll say it. Eventually. I just can't right now.”

“I know.” You whisper.

He buries his face against your neck, still kissing your skin over and over as his mind races, trying to collect himself. “Stop telling me it’s okay. Stop being so damn forgiving, beautiful girl. I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes, you do.” You say.

He sighs against your neck, finally pulling away, though he still keeps his arms wrapped tight around your waist. He doesn’t look you in the eye, his eyes falling to the collar of your shirt, his eyes just locking on the skin of your throat. “I’m a mess,” He says. “I’ve never done anything right in my life. I mess everything up. Why do you want to put up with that?”

“Because I love you,” You say again. “I always have, and I always will. Even if we don’t end up together, I’ll still fucking love you.”

His breath catches to hear you say that. Hearing those three words again makes his stomach twist and his mind go blank, but he finally forces himself to look into your eyes again. He swallows before speaking. “Promise?”

“I promise.” You say, sticking a pinky up.

His eyes fall on your pinky, and for a moment he just stares at it, seeing it in front of his face. When he finally comes to his senses, he lifts a hand off your waist to reach forward and lock his pinky with yours, his eyes locking back on yours. When he locks your fingers together, a warmth rushes through his chest, like a weight has just been lifted off his shoulders, and his eyes grow soft as he stares into your eyes. For a while, he just stands there, looking at you as he takes in the fact that you… love him. That you’re, actually, in love love with him. And he’s standing here, holding your hand in front of him, just trying his best to keep his shit together.

Rafe swallows hard before speaking, “Can I kiss you?”

“God, fuck, please do.” You breathe out.

God, he can’t believe he’s actually hearing that from you - begging him for a kiss. His heart leaps in his chest to hear that, that soft, pleading response, and he barely lets you finish your sentence before he’s suddenly surging forward, pressing his lips against your own. His hands release your waist and instead move up to cup your face, tilting your head back as he suddenly kisses you.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he keeps his hands on your face as he kisses you, pulling you flush against him, closing his eyes. It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced - he’s kissed plenty of girls before, sure, but he’s never felt this. You, you feel so different. He can’t even begin to put into words what it is about you that makes it different, what it is that makes you different from all of the girls he’s kissed before.

All he knows is that it is.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora, @odairtrqsh, @wearemadeofstardust0, @rafesbabygirlx, @slumnit, @babygirlwilly, @rafeyswife (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

join my permanent obx taglist here!

[archiveofvirtue]

Could you do Rafe x Sweet Pouge reader. They have just seen each other around, never talked. He finds her attractive tho. She has been asked on a date by a Kook. She sits at the restaurant all dolled up, excited and waiting. Rafe happens to be there too sitting at a table. And SHOOK by the way she looks. She get's a phone call from the dude, who laughs and says it was a prank. She gets up teary eyed.......maybe he follows?.......

WHEN TWO WORLDS COLLIDE! ⸻ rafe cameron

notes: ahh i had sm fun writing this!! soft rafe just tickles my brain. tysm for requesting this!! I added a few more things to make it a little longer, so I hope u like it.

content: sweet pogue!reader, rafe being a big softie, fluffy asf, a lot of comfort, rafe lowkey having a crush, strangers to lovers kinda trope (?)

As you walked toward the entrance of the Country Club, your heart was racing with excitement and nerves. You smoothed down your flowy sundress one last time, glancing at your reflection in the glass doors.

It wasn't every day that a Pogue girl like you was asked out by a Kook, and you had spent hours getting ready, picking out the perfect outfit, doing your makeup just right. Your heart fluttered at the thought that maybe, just maybe, you could fit in this time. You could be someone different—someone who belonged.

You stepped inside, feeling a mix of anticipation and insecurity as you glanced around the Country Club, its polished floors and chandeliers making you feel slightly out of place. But you pushed the feeling down. This was your chance.

You sat by the window, checking your phone for the fifth time already. The guy who asked you out was someone you barely knew, but he was part of the crowd you'd always watched from the outside. You didn't want to admit how much this meant to you—how much you hoped this could be a chance to break free of the labels that defined life on kildare island.

Minutes passed, and your smile started to falter. You checked your phone again, trying not to feel anxious. He's just running late, you told yourself, forcing a smile, trying to stay hopeful. And then your phone buzzed, and you answered the call rather quickly.

But the moment you heard the voice on the other end, your heart sank.

"You're a fucking Pogue," the guy laughed. "Like I'd ever want to go out with someone like you. It was just a joke."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You sat there, frozen, his words leaving nothing but humiliation. Your throat tightened, and you blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that were already forming in your eyes. You hung up without saying anything, your hands trembling as you placed the phone on the table.

You'd dolled yourself up for this—you had hoped, you had believed. But now, sitting in the middle of the elegant Country Club, surrounded by perfection, you felt utterly small. Like you didn't belong, like you were foolish to have ever thought you did.

A single tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly brushed it away, hoping no one had seen you. You tried to pull yourself together, but it was too late. The tears came faster now, and you couldn't stop them. You lowered your head, hiding your face in your hands, feeling the weight of the rejection settle deep into your chest.

All you had wanted was a chance to feel special, to be seen as more than just a Pogue. But now, the sting of being a joke, felt unbearable.

What you hadn’t realized was that you weren't alone.

Rafe had been watching you from the moment you'd walked into the Country Club, leaning against the bar. He had seen you, in your dress, eyes bright with anticipation, and he'd noticed how beautiful you looked.

He had always thought that. But, like most Kooks, he'd kept his distance—You were a Pogue, after all. You were from two different worlds, and he wasn't supposed to get involved.

Still, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

Rafe had watched you wait, seen the way your excitement slowly turned into devastation. He saw the moment your heart broke, face crumpling as you ended the call. And now, watching you try to hide your tears, something inside him snapped.

He couldn't just stand by and do nothing.

The words he overheard 'You're a fucking Pogue' repeated themselves in his head, making Rafe's blood boil. His grip on his drink tightened until the glass nearly cracked. His anger simmered, but it was more than just frustration at the guy. It was guilt.

Guilt that he, too, had kept you at arm's length because of your Pogue status, but now, seeing you cry, he couldn't care less about the divide between Kooks and Pogues.

Rafe straightened up, his heart pounding as he made his way down to where you sat. You didn't notice him approaching, too lost in your quiet sobs, wiping your eyes and trying to pull yourself together.

When he reached you, he cleared his throat gently, your head snapping up, and eyes wide and red from crying. For a moment, you were visibly shocked to see him standing there.

"Hey," Rafe said, his voice low, almost soft.

You quickly wiped at your face, trying to compose yourself, clearly embarrassed. "Rafe?" You mumbled, voice shaky. "What are you—?"

"I saw what happened," he cut in gently, his gaze locking onto yours. There was something in his expression you didn't expect— maybe concern? "That guy's an idiot."

You swallowed hard, your lips trembling as you tried to push back the emotions. "It was stupid," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't have expected anything different."

"You didn't deserve that," Rafe said, sitting down across from you. His eyes never leaving yours while his words were firm, but his tone was gentle. "He's just some asshole who thinks he's better than everyone. Don't let him make you feel like this."

You stared at him, unsure of how to respond. Why was Rafe Cameron, of all people, sitting here, comforting you? He was part of the same world as the guy who had just humiliated you. But the look in his eyes was sincere, and for the first time that night, you didn't feel invisible.

"I just..." you started, your voice breaking. "I thought maybe for once I could be... someone different. I thought maybe I could belong."

Rafe's jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn't speak. He understood more than you realized. The pressure to belong, the weight of expectations—it was something he knew all too well.

"You don't need to be different," he finally said. "You don't need to change who you are to fit in with people like him. You're better than that."

You blinked at him, your heart fluttering at his words. You hadn't expected any of this. The warmth in his gaze, the way he was looking at you as if you mattered—like you were more than just a Pogue. It made you feel seen in a way you hadn't been before.

"Why do you care?" You asked quietly, your voice still shaky.

Rafe hesitated, the question hanging in the air between you two. Why did he care? Because, for the first time in a long time, he saw someone who didn't fit into the perfect mold. You were real, and raw, and beautiful in a way that went beyond the labels that divided the two of you.

Yet he had kept his distance because of the lines drawn between your worlds. Now, though, seeing you like this, those lines didn't seem to matter anymore, yet he couldn't bring himself to tell you, feelings just weren't his thing.

"You know," Rafe said with a small smile, his eyes flicking over your dress, "you went through all that trouble to get dressed up. It'd be a shame to let that pretty outfit go to waste."

You blinked, looking up at him with those wide, glistening eyes, as if you couldn't quite understand what he was saying. "What do you mean?"

"Come on," he said, standing up and offering you his hand. "How about a round of golf? I mean, you're already here. Might as well have a little fun, right?"

You hesitated, feeling a little shy. "I've never played golf before," you admitted, glancing down at your hands.

Rafe's smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, it's your lucky day then, cause I'm the best teacher you could ask for."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, your heart doing little flips. You weren't sure why he was being so kind, but something about it made you want to see where things could go.

So to his surprise—and a little relief—you nodded. He reached out again, and when you took it, he led you outside toward the golf course. There was something about seeing you like this, so out of your element but willing to trust him, that made Rafe feel...different. It was hard to describe, but he liked it.

As you two reached the the course, you looked around nervously, feeling a little out of your comfort zone. Rafe handed you a club, watching as you awkwardly tried to mimic the stance you'd seen in movies or on TV. You were adorable, fumbling slightly, and even though you seemed embarrassed, you didn't give up.

"You're close," Rafe said, stepping forward, his grin softening as he moved to help you. "Here, let me show you."

Before you knew it he moved behind you, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline as he placed his hands over yours, guiding your grip on the club. Your breath caught as his chest brushed against your back as he adjusted your stance, and he could feel the way your body twitched slightly, the tension building between you.

Rafe wasn't immune to it either—your presence so close to him, your soft scent filling the air—it stirred something inside him, a pull he couldn't ignore.

"Like this," Rafe murmured close to your ear, his voice low and smooth. "Just follow my movements."

You swallowed, trying to focus on what he was teaching you, but the closeness, the quiet intensity of the moment, made it hard to focus on just golf.

Rafe could tell you were trying your best to concentrate, but he could also feel your nerves, the way your hands trembled just a bit under his. It made him chuckle, not in a teasing way, but in a way that made him feel something...warm.

You nodded, hands shaking slightly as he guided you through the motions. After a few practice swings, he pulled away, giving you room to try on your own.

"Go ahead," he said, stepping back with a smile. "You've got this."

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You adjusted your grip on the club, your mind still replaying the feeling of Rafe's hands all over you. You swung the club, and to both of your surprise, the ball flew perfectly across the course.

"I did it!" You exclaimed, voice filled with excitement. Without thinking, you jumped up and down, joy overflowing as you turned to face Rafe. "Did you see that?"

Rafe grinned, his expression soft as he nodded. "Yeah, I saw that," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked proud, but there was something else in his gaze—something warm and genuine that made your whole body react.

Without even realizing it, you launched yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly in your burst of happiness. Your energy, your warmth, it all hit him at once, and for a moment, Rafe stood there, a bit stunned. Then, he laughed softly, wrapping his arms around you in return.

You were so full of life in that moment, so pure in your happiness, that it caught him off guard. But once you realized what you were doing, you quickly pulled away, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Sorry," you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "I didn't mean to freak out over something so small."

Rafe shook his head, still smiling at you. He could see how shy you felt, but he didn't want you to feel like you had to hold back. "Don't apologize," he said, his voice gentle. "I think it's adorable."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you dared to look up at him again. The way he was watching you, his smile so easy and sincere, made you feel something you hadn't expected—a sense of belonging, right here, in this moment with him.

Even Rafe himself felt something shift between you two, something that had been brewing for a while but had finally come to the surface today. As he stood there, watching you, the line between Kook and Pogue seemed to blur, and for once, he didn't care about any of it.

Everything that mattered was you.