#non canon rafe cameron x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherienymphe · 8 months ago

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His Father's Son

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: After the untimely death of his father, Rafe takes it upon himself to become the man of the house.

warnings: NON-CON, STEPCEST, AGE GAP, mentions of major character death, depression, alcoholism, stepmom!reader, underage drinking, canon ages

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

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The overwhelming feeling of being watched turned out to be true.

You flinched at the sight of the figure standing next to your bed, eerily still and eerily familiar in the darkness. Reason took over, and your heart started to slow just as quickly as it had started to race. You struggled to move, legs twisted within the sheets as you reached over to turn on the lamp. Sleep was still clinging to you, desperate to pull you back in, but you pushed it away with one look at Rafe’s face.

“It’s 8 o’clock,” was all he said in that tone you had never cared for.

Once his words actually registered though, you swallowed down the mild irritation that had threatened to bubble up. You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you blinked, staring at him with parted lips before hurrying to search for your phone. When it bounced out of your unsteady hands and onto the floor, you cursed.

Sliding out of bed, you unfortunately confirmed that it was indeed 8 o’clock.

Now 8:03.

“Shit,” you breathed, pressing your hand to your forehead. “Um…”

You swiped your tongue between your lips, noting how dry they felt.

“Tell Wheezie-.”

“I already took Wheezie to school.”

The teenager’s words surprised you, and your hand fell, staring at him in a mixture of shock and shame. At those words, you finally registered the look on his face, and you found yourself thinking that his tone earlier made a lot more sense. You opened and closed your mouth, fighting to figure out how to respond. Unfortunately, you didn’t come up with anything clever.

“…oh.”

You watched the blond cross his arms over his chest, head tilted with the barest of frowns between his brows.

“I’m sorry,” you finally added, letting out a sigh. “I overslept and my alarm didn’t go off and…”

You found yourself trailing off, hating the sound of your excuses.

You got the feeling that Rafe hated the sound of them too by the even stare he fixed you with. You imagined that he hadn’t planned on dropping Wheezie off to her first day of school this year, and while it was something you both knew he should expect to do sometimes, it was also something he should’ve been asked to do. You couldn’t even remember going to bed the previous night, and you were sure the two bottles of wine you’d consumed had something to do with it.

“Should I anticipate dropping her off tomorrow too?”

There was an edge in his voice that you didn’t like but couldn’t necessarily be angry at.

“No,” you told him, tone sheepish. “I’ll get up on time.”

Rafe didn’t respond, but he also didn’t leave right away. He simply stood there, drinking you in with a frown. There was a look that passed through his eyes that made you think he probably wanted to say something, but if that were true, he swiftly changed his mind. You watched him silently leave, and you resisted the urge to sigh, closing your eyes instead.

When you married Ward Cameron two years ago, it wasn’t for the most honorable of reasons you’d admit. However, the same could also be said for him. After all, what would a forty-year-old man possibly want with a twenty-seven-year-old woman? Probably something equally as superficial as the same reasons a twenty-seven-year-old woman would want to marry a forty-year-old man. With that being said though, you hadn’t actually expected to fall for him. In hindsight, how could you not?

He had never been bad looking, and he was far kinder than you ever expected. Sure, the money and security of a comfortable life were what pulled you in, but after saying yes, you realized that he wasn’t the typical cold and rich husband you expected him to be. Seeing him do his best with his children only made it harder to pretend like it was some loveless marriage of mutual benefit.

You loved him.

…and then he died.

With one boating accident, you were suddenly the single mother of three teenagers. It wasn’t something you were prepared for, and while one was technically an adult, that still left two who weren’t and couldn’t possibly fend for themselves. On top of it all, you still found it hard to get out of bed most days, a problem that wasn’t so bad during the summer.

…but the new term was here, and you couldn’t put your responsibilities off any longer.

Reminding yourself that you’d quite literally drank yourself to sleep the previous night and therefore overslept, you noted that you were off to a bad start. The thought made your eyes burn, the full realization of your new reality hitting you. After Ward died, Rafe was basically the one to take care of everything while you spent most days in bed, but months had passed and summer was over and now your time had come to be a parent.

Resisting the urge to cry, you stumbled to the bathroom, hoping you didn’t look as bad as you felt.

“Did you hear me?”

His voice pulled you out of your own head and you slowly turned to look at him.

“What?”

Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time, and it was then that you realized he’d probably been speaking to you for some time. You swallowed at the realization, noting that you’d spaced out again, and when Rafe heaved a sigh, you actually felt like the scolded child.

“Sarah’s staying over at a friend’s house tonight,” he told you.

You could feel his gaze on you when you nodded, and deep in the back of your mind you knew that you should’ve asked some follow up questions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You’d always trusted Sarah and her judgement—Rafe being the one you and Ward always worried about—and considering the circumstances, you wouldn’t question her on this. In your current state of mind, you were positive she could ask you to smoke a blunt and you’d give her the okay.

You were pulled from your thoughts again by the sound of your name.

You were unsurprised to meet Rafe’s gaze.

You couldn’t place the look on his face, but he seemed like he was deep in thought. Rafe’s behavior and demeanor had taken a 180 after Ward’s death you had to admit. Granted, you supposed that was to be expected, but for some reason it surprised you. Maybe it was because the change was so drastic or maybe because Rafe seemed so set in his ways that it was hard for you to remember that he was only nineteen and still had so much capacity to mature into someone entirely other than what you knew him to be.

Your thoughts on the matter didn’t really matter, you supposed. All that mattered was that he’d stepped up where you’d so clearly dropped the ball, and maybe that was why you found it so hard to snap out of it and be the responsible parent, now. There were days when your grief paralyzed you, and you didn’t feel that nagging obligation to get out of bed because you knew Rafe would handle it.

The blond didn’t say anything, but his thoughts were plain as day as he reached along the counter and slid your drink from in front of you.

“Rafe-.”

“I think you’ve had enough,” was all he drawled, and you found yourself frowning.

“Who’s the parent in this scenario?”

“Apparently me,” he fired back, making your jaw tick. “I’m the one running the business and taking Wheezie to school and making sure there’s actually something to eat in the house.”

You blinked at that, recalling that you couldn’t remember the last time you went grocery shopping. Shame filled you once again, and your gaze lowered, eyes tracing the patterns of the granite. The silence that descended between you was thick, and just when you were about to apologize, Rafe spoke.

“Look, I get that you loved him or whatever, but… So did we…,” your eyes met his at that. “…and Wheezie and Sarah still have to go to school, and I still have to talk to people and deal with contracts and bullshit I didn’t think I would for at least another ten years.”

You realized that Rafe was right, and it made you feel worse because you didn’t think Ward would have married you if he didn’t think you were capable of looking after his children should something happen to him. Yet here you were…letting him down…

Rafe moved from his spot on the other side of the counter, and you only let him when he gently took your arm and forced you to stand. It was a far cry from your dynamic only five months ago. In your defense, you never clicked with Rafe. It wasn’t for lack of trying on your end, but Rafe was so troubled and had so many pent-up emotions and awful drug habits that it only proved to be a breeding ground for disaster.

You could think of too many instances in which you tried to be a parent to him only to be met with the same snarky and cruel demeanor he gave to everyone. He never quite took to you as his new parental figure, and you’d quickly learned that Ward was the only authority he’d respect and listen to. You tended to try and stay out of his way as a result, but Rafe was the one to catch you when you collapsed after getting the news that day.

Overnight, he’d gone from treating you like the ugly stepmother and instead like some injured foal he needed to look out for.

“That’s not healthy,” Mrs. Thornton said to you a few days later.

You watched her set her tea down, lips twisted into disapproval as she marinated on your words.

“You are the parent,” she sternly told you. “It’s your duty to pick up right where Ward left off, and instead you are letting some teenager run things.”

You knew that she was right, but you didn’t exactly relish hearing it.

You had never cared for the older woman, her upbringing influencing the majority of her opinions and stern exterior. However, after the boating accident, you desperately needed another actual adult to talk to. You were out of your element, and everyone knew it, and the first time you sat with her after your husband’s death felt humiliating. Now, however, you practically relied on her to keep your head on straight.

“…but I don’t know how to parent two teenagers all by myself, let alone handle the family business that I was never all that privy to.”

She made a noise at your admission, and it only served to humiliate you further. You had long suspected that she didn’t approve of Ward marrying a significantly younger woman, and by telling her that you weren’t included at all in the important decisions, you only validated her suspicions that you were only ever for show.

You forced yourself to ignore it.

“Their relationship was rocky, yes, but… No one knew Ward like Rafe,” you quietly admitted. “…and Rafe is the only one Ward talked to about all of this. Rafe knows how to make the decisions Ward would want.”

“He’s nineteen,” she scoffed. “Barely older than my own son.”

At your unsure expression, she leaned in closer, brows drawn together and lips pursed.

“You are his parent,” she repeated. “…and the longer you refuse to act like it and let him handle the business and the household and his siblings, he will forget it and start to challenge you in your own home.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell Mrs. Thornton that it didn’t exactly feel like your home anymore. At least not without Ward. While it relieved you that Sarah and Wheezie still treated you as they did before his death, you still couldn’t help but worry that without him around they would soon refuse to take you seriously as a parent. Part of you wouldn’t even blame them.

You’d only been in their life for three years, six months of which you were just their father’s silly twenty something girlfriend. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that they never expected him to actually marry you. Rafe had made that pretty clear when Ward had broken the news with you at his side.

It was a week later when you found yourself knocking on the door of Ward’s study. You supposed that it belonged to Rafe, now, and that correction made your heart clench. Even seeing him in the same spot where Ward often sat made you falter, and it took you a moment to remember why you’d disturbed him. Mrs. Thornton’s words were front and center in your mind.

“We need to have a serious talk about the business.”

At your words, Rafe only tilted his head, and you noted how out of place he looked in Ward’s space. Rafe was so young and everything about him betrayed his mindset and inexperience and impulsive tendencies. He didn’t belong, at all, but who were you to deny him his birthright?

“What about it?” he finally wondered, and you were hyperaware that he was watching your every move as you walked about the room.

“I think that I should be more involved with it,” you told him, continuing at his frown. “Rafe, you’re only nineteen, and like you’d said. You weren’t prepared to be fully involved in this for at least another decade.”

You watched him toss some papers aside at that, and the look he fixed you with made you swallow. It was reminiscent of the Rafe you were used to. You didn’t miss the way he dragged his blue gaze over you, sizing you up, and you definitely didn’t like it.

“You don’t know anything about it.”

The acknowledgement that Ward had never included you in these matters stung, but you only sighed.

“No…but…”

Your words died in the air as Rafe stood, and you had an inkling of what he was going to say by the look on his face.

“Do you even want to be involved in my dad’s business?” he asked you, leaning against the desk with his hands pressed into the wood. “Or are you just listening to Topper’s mom again?”

The blond chuckled at your silence, and it lacked humor.

“My dad left it to me,” he finally said, holding your gaze. “…and I know you think you should be involved because…well…you’re the parent, now…”

You didn’t like the way he rolled his eyes at that, and you blinked when Rafe straightened, nearing you.

“…but you don’t get it.”

Rafe looked between your eyes.

“I disappointed him too much while he was here, and this… This is my chance to make him proud,” he admitted, and your shoulders drooped.

“Rafe…”

“…and not just with his business,” he continued. “He’s gone…so now I have to step up and be the man of the house.”

Despite the fact that you could see where Rafe was coming from, you didn’t necessarily agree. He was too young to be putting so much pressure on himself to follow Ward’s footsteps and make up for his absence. That was your job, and you heaved a sigh, looking down. You’d just started to shake your head when he spoke again.

“Besides…you’re still knocking back…what? Twelve bottles a week?”

You reared back at that, lifting your gaze as he’d already started turning away from you.

“I’m not saying it to be mean,” he assured you, leaning against the desk and intently watching you. “I’m just stating a fact.”

Your throat felt incredibly thick all of a sudden.

“My dad’s death hit you really hard, and I get it. Mrs. Thornton is telling you that you’re the parent—the adult—and so you need to put me in my place and step into your role.”

You looked away, avoiding his eye.

“…but you can barely function most days, and I treated you like shit on more than one occasion, so…” you reluctantly met his gaze again. “It’s only fair that you let me look after you, now.”

You wanted to tell him that that wasn’t his job, and that more importantly, it should be the other way around. However, he was right. In your condition, you’d screw everything up and drive the whole family into debt. It wouldn’t be like this forever, you knew that, and so you reluctantly agreed that you needed time to get yourself together before you fucked it all up.

You woke up in tears, chest tight as you struggled to breathe.

It wasn’t the first time you dreamed about Ward, but instead of a good dream it was only a memory of that day Shoupe had knocked on your door. You’d felt trapped and panicked as you watched on, telling yourself not to answer it. Somehow, if you didn’t answer it then it wouldn’t be true. He wouldn’t be dead but just…still on his boat…enjoying a long vacation.

The events played out just like they did that day. You’d been able to feel the dread deep in your gut at the look on Shoupe’s face, and you kept screaming at yourself to kick him out of your house, that he had nothing good to tell you. You watched the way your face fell and the way your hands shook, and Rafe had only walked into the room for two seconds before hurrying to grab you when your knees buckled. He’d held you, fighting to calm you down as you wailed…

Much like he was doing now.

“Hey, hey,” you heard him harshly whisper, arms tight around you as he kept you from bucking around on the bed. “Y/N…”

Your nails dug into his arm as you tried to catch your breath, but your choked sobs were coming out too fast to give you any kind of reprieve. You could feel Rafe’s chest at your back as he moved closer, and one of his arms snaked around your neck as he held you in place.

“Is she okay?”

It was only then that you realized the hallway light was on and bleeding into the otherwise dark room. Wheezie sounded worried—scared—and you cursed yourself for doing that to her. You were supposed to be their support, comforting them and providing a safe space during this awful time in their lives, and instead it was the other way around.

You both heard and felt Rafe sigh.

“Yeah, she’ll…she’ll be fine. Wheezie, you should go back to bed,” he told her. “Now.”

You could only assume she listened to him, and Rafe only let you go when your breathing started to slow. You weren’t crying as hard when he laid you back down, and his absence was only felt for a few minutes before the bed dipped again. You felt him put a pill in your hand, and you frowned at it as he pulled you into a sitting position.

“Take this,” he told you, pushing your hand towards your mouth.

“What…?”

“It’ll help you sleep,” was all he said, forcing you to pop it into your mouth, a glass of water being pressed to your lips almost immediately.

In your distress, some slipped past your lips, and Rafe beat you to it in brushing his thumb across your chin. Slowly blinking, you laid back down, and you heard Rafe set the glass of water aside. You naturally thought that he’d leave, but you were surprised to feel his hand on the side of your face, smoothing it over your face and hair.

You really didn’t like that he was taking on a role that should’ve been yours, and after some time, you quietly mumbled an apology.

“I loved him,” you whispered in the darkness, and you felt Rafe freeze. “I know you guys think that I didn’t. I know what you and your friends have probably said about me behind my back.”

You tiredly scoffed, more tears escaping as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“…but I loved your father very much, and I wasn’t prepared to do this alone.”

Rafe didn’t say anything, but he didn’t move either, and you pressed your hand to your face, feeling the pill taking effect.

“I don’t know what to do,” you choked out. “He was supposed to be here, Rafe, I’m not supposed to do this alone.”

You could feel your chest tightening again, and Rafe shushed you. You could feel your body becoming lighter, and you welcomed it, face relaxing and breathing slowing. Rafe was still next to you, his body so close to yours that you could feel the heat coming off of it. You didn’t have the strength to push his hand away as his fingers grazed your cheek, and after some time you felt him pull the cover over you.

You didn’t feel him move or leave, but you became less concerned about that the more your fatigue grew.

You stared at Wheezie’s hopeful face, chewing on your lip as you contemplated her request.

“Have I met Natalie’s parents before?” you wondered, and you realized your mistake in asking that when her face dimmed.

“I don’t think so, but…dad did.”

You slowly nodded at that, whispering a small ‘right’ before looking away. It was a Friday evening, and in order to make up for your less than stellar behavior, you’d planned to cook and have dinner as a family—something that hadn’t been done in months. However, Sarah’s plans with her boyfriend put a damper on that, and now Wheezie was asking to stay over at a friend’s.

It didn’t seem fair to make Wheezie stay while Sarah didn’t. Granted, Sarah hadn’t exactly asked you, but still. The plan was to have dinner as a family anyway, and without Sarah, that wish was already ruined. The way you saw it, you might as well let Wheezie go, but you didn’t know Natalie’s parents, and so you felt unsure.

Rafe came into the kitchen then, and with one look between you, he deduced that a serious discussion was being had.

“What’s wrong?” he asked no one in particular.

“I’m asking mom if I can sleep over at Natalie’s tonight.”

“…and I’ve never met Natalie’s parents so…”

You watched Rafe chuckle at that, lips curving into a smirk as he moved to taste the vodka sauce on the stove.

“They’re almost as uptight as Topper’s mom, so Wheezie will be in good hands if that’s what you’re worried about,” he told you, tone light.

While that reassured you, you still felt a little down about your plans for the evening being ruined. You got the feeling that it was noticeable, and you flinched a bit when you felt Rafe’s hands briefly come down on your shoulders before brushing past you.

“You can do your family dinner thing another night,” he suggested, shrugging at you. “Sarah won’t be here anyway.”

Wheezie gave you a pouty lip, and you thought it over. If she said that Ward had met them before, and Rafe confirmed that they were indeed trustworthy, then you didn’t see why not. Even still, you unintentionally found yourself looking to Rafe, and when he gave you the barest of nods, you smiled at the thirteen-year-old.

“Okay,” you breathed, and she jumped up with her phone in hand.

“Natalie’s mom is picking me up,” she threw over her shoulder, hurriedly heading for the stairs.

You were happy to see her coping better with things, so you tried to focus on that instead of the fact that you’d be eating alone. Turning back to the stove, you turned the dial down to a simmer, half expecting Rafe to be gone when you turned around. He wasn’t, and you didn’t miss the way he eyed you as he leaned his arms on the counter.

“Let me guess, you have plans too? It’s Friday, and that usually means you’ll be out somewhere with Topper and Kelce.”

The crooked smile on his face was mocking as he peered up at you from beneath his lashes.

“It’s family dinner night.”

You only rolled your eyes at that, turning away from him.

“You’re nineteen, Rafe. I don’t expect you to turn down plans with your friends just to stay home and sit across from your stepmom,” you sighed. “You can go, it’s fine.”

“You and I both know I don’t do anything I don’t want to do,” he said, something you silently agreed on. “I want to stay.”

When you looked at him again, you were surprised to find him standing much closer, now. You hadn’t even heard him move nor realize just how close his voice was. You couldn’t place the look on the blonde’s face as he stared at you, and you watched him reach up to grab a plate.

“Why?” you chuckled.

Despite how nice he was being now, you both knew that it was only the case because of Ward’s death. Rafe had never cared for you, and if the circumstances were different, he wouldn’t hesitate to get as far away from this house as possible. You felt like Rafe’s thoughts were probably mirroring your own, something passing through his gaze that looked a lot like confusion.

“…because you loved him. Probably more than me,” he shrugged.

You frowned because you didn’t agree with that, at all, and you told him so.

“I think there are very few people who can love someone as much as a son loves his father.”

You threw Rafe a small smile, reaching out to rest your hand on his arm.

“…and you did love him, Rafe. Sure, you guys fought worse than teenage sisters at times,” you breathed, frantically blinking at the memories. “…but that’s just because he wanted the best for you, and you had your own problems that didn’t stop you from disappointing him.”

You tilted your head at him when he looked away.

“You idolized him, and all you wanted was to make him proud. It made things very complicated, but please don’t ever say I loved him more than you did.”

When Rafe looked at you again, there was a deep frown on his face, and for some reason, you felt very small beneath his stare.

“…but you did,” he said with a small shrug, gesturing around. “I mean, look at you.”

You blinked.

“You have to be medicated just to get some sleep, and you still don’t remember staring at the wall for days after he died.”

You felt a chill pass through you at his words, hating how much you’d let them down, but also because there was something about the way Rafe stepped towards you and held your gaze that you didn’t think you liked. It made an unsure feeling twist deep in your gut for some reason.

“So, no. I don’t want to go anywhere with Kelce and Top, not when my dad’s wife is one bad day away from a psychotic break,” he whispered. “He would want me to take care of you.”

His words were reminiscent of the same ones he’d spoken to you in Ward’s study that day, but unlike that day, today they made you feel uneasy, and you didn’t know why. You dropped your hand, taking a step back from him just as Wheezie’s voice reached your ears.

“Natalie’s mom is outside, I’ll text you when I get there,” she called as she ran through the house.

Your voice cracked when you told her to have fun, but you didn’t think she heard, the door slamming shut mid-sentence. Forcing yourself to turn away from Rafe, you grabbed a plate with shaky hands, Mrs. Thornton’s words echoing in your mind that Rafe’s new role in the household wasn’t healthy.

“I swear I’m not doing it to be a bitch, okay?” Sarah’s voice reached your ears. “It’s just really hard to be around her without thinking about dad.”

You swallowed at her words, taking a step back on the stairs,

“Especially when it’s obvious just how hard she’s taking it,” she said. “I mean, she’s a little better, sure, but those sleeping pills you give her aren’t doing a thing. She’s not tired, Rafe, she’s depressed.”

“Well, you’re making her feel like shit,” you heard him reply, a tone in his voice that you hadn’t heard in quite some time. “This is the fourth dinner you skipped out on for your Pogue boyfriend.”

The younger girl didn’t respond right away.

“I’m sorry,” you heard her eventually say. “When did you start caring about her anyway? Weren’t you the one who called her some gold-digger, saying she was coming for your spot in the will?”

That didn’t shock you nor hurt you, long imagining that Rafe had said far worse. You heard him heave a sigh, and it sounded angry.

“Dad’s gone, Sarah, and that means we should stay together as a family,” he sneered. “…and I’m doing what I can to make that happen.”

You heard a slight scuffle, and you hurriedly made your way down the stairs and towards the kitchen. It had been some time since you heard Rafe and Sarah fight, something you definitely didn’t miss, but considering the topic of this discussion, it didn’t surprise you that it was a little more emotionally charged than normal.

When you rounded the corner, Rafe had a tight grip on Sarah’s arm, the younger girl trying to leave with her purse in hand. The expression on his face was unnerving, a deep frown between his brows with his lip curled over his teeth a she got in her face.

“Things are going to be different, now.”

“Rafe.”

Sarah’s eyes were wide and terrified when she looked at you, relaxing a bit at your presence, and you were relieved when Rafe let her go. Sarah only briefly acknowledged you on her way out, desperate to get away from Rafe, and you watched the way he glared after her.

“Rafe, it’s fine,” you told him. “She’s allowed to hang out with her friends for whatever reasons she wants, especially now.”

“Are you going to use that excuse forever? Just because dad died it doesn’t mean that she can do whatever she wants,” he snapped, gesturing towards the door.

“She’s grieving!”

“She’s using it as an excuse to be a shitty daughter, and you’re just letting her.”

You reared back at both his words and his tone, and for the first time in months, you felt something like anger bubble up in your chest.

“It’s not your place to tell me how to raise her. She’s not your daughter,” you spat.

The small laugh that he let out lacked humor, and by the look on his face, you knew that there was something on the tip of his tongue that you would hate.

“Yeah, well, she’s barely yours.”

You could tell that he wanted to take it back almost as soon as he said it, and you pressed your lips together just as he touched his forehead.

“Fuck, that’s not…”

His words trailed off, and you crossed your arms over your chest. You were only thirteen years older than Sarah and knew her for all of three years, so it wasn’t like you didn’t feel the same at times, but it still hurt to hear. It’s like Rafe was voicing your worst fears that she would come to lack respect for you and your presence in her life as a mom.

You didn’t know how to do this…and everyone knew it.

“I just feel like…you’re treating her like dad did, letting her get away with everything, and I hate it,” he slowly said.

Rafe’s feelings about Sarah had never been a secret, and neither had Ward’s. You wouldn’t ever deny the fact that Ward favored her, and it was unfortunately noticeable, something that was always visibly distressing for Rafe. With Ward gone—and with Rafe feeling like he now needed to be the man of the house—this made for a very complex situation.

You couldn’t tell what was rightful concern and what was just Rafe wanting to put Sarah in her place, something he’d never been subtle about.

“I wasn’t expecting to be left raising teenagers by myself before I was even thirty, Rafe,” you finally replied. “I’m trying…”

“I know you are,” he hurried to say, quickly approaching you and reaching for you. “That’s why I’m trying to help.”

You backed away from him before he could touch you, and you didn’t miss the way his expression clouded over at that. Looking away, you swiped your tongue between your lips, choosing your next words carefully. You could feel his heated gaze burning a hole into your face.

“I get that you’re trying to help, and believe me when I say I’m so appreciative of it, Rafe, but… It is not your place,” you carefully said, looking at him again.

You watched him roll his eyes towards the ceiling, nodding to himself. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and when his gaze fell back to you, you immediately knew that you didn’t like it. Rafe’s nostrils flared, and you didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that your words had bothered him, no matter how carefully you chose them.

“What you mean is you’re the parent, I’m not, and I need to stay in a child’s place.”

You sighed at that.

“Not necessarily, I just-.”

“…because if that were true, who would’ve driven Wheezie to school on the mornings when you couldn’t even get out of bed?”

You didn’t appreciate him throwing that in your face, and by the look in his eyes, you could tell he wasn’t done.

“You want me to stay in my place, but I’m the one who made the funeral arrangements and answered the important questions and kept this house together when the woman our dad married was too grief stricken to even stand on her own two feet.”

You bit your tongue, warily eyeing him as he moved to stand directly before you.

“Dad died, and I stepped up. Not you…me,” he firmly told you. “…and now that you’re sort of kind of getting your shit together, you just want to pretend like I should have no say in any of this.”

You didn’t like how close Rafe was, but when you went to take a step back, his hand shot out to dig into your arm, preventing you from doing so. You winced at the tight grip, and you swore you saw his face soften some at the sight. His grip certainly did, and you almost wished that it didn’t because the gentle way he held your arm and the gentle way he looked between your eyes made you deeply uncomfortable.

“Someone has to be the man of the house, now…and it falls to me,” he whispered.

You didn’t even have a proper response for that, feeling wholly unnerved as you stared at one another, and you took a deep breath.

“Let go of me, Rafe,” you quietly said.

You were relieved when he listened, almost convinced that he wouldn’t, and you touched your arm with a step back. You studied his face, searching for what? You didn’t know, but again…Mrs. Thornton’s words would not leave your mind, and you hated the way your lips trembled.

“Do not touch me like that again.”

Your tone was even, but you were sure your eyes betrayed you because Rafe merely raised an eyebrow at you.

“Or what? You’ll send me to my room?”

Your heart sank at his mocking words and the subtle challenge in them, and despite how much nicer Rafe’s next words were, they didn’t make you any less uneasy.

“I’m just trying to do right by my dad and look after everything he left behind.”

His words seemed innocent enough, but for the first time, you allowed yourself to wonder just what that entailed exactly and what role he expected to play in this family. You didn’t want your mind to linger on something that couldn’t be true, and so you left him without another word.

The feel of a hand shaking your shoulder is what pulled you from sleep, and it took you a long time to peel your eyes open. Doing so felt difficult for some reason, and when you exhaled—smelling the wine on your breath—you realized why. Rafe’s face was the one that met you, and you immediately squeezed your eyes shut.

“Y/N,” he gently said. “It’s late.”

As he said this, you realized that you were on the couch, and it didn’t take you long to surmise that you’d fallen asleep there. You didn’t want to move, but you also didn’t want to spend the rest of the night on the couch, knowing you’d regret it the moment you stood up in the morning. Just when you were about to mumble to Rafe to leave you be, you heard him sigh before feeling his arms slide underneath you.

In an effort to keep from falling, you quickly held onto him.

“Rafe,” you mumbled, disapproving.

“Wheezie has friends coming over in the morning,” you were barely able to make out. “I don’t think their moms would appreciate stumbling upon you asleep and hungover on the couch.”

He chuckled to himself as he climbed the stairs.

“They already don’t like you…”

You merely hummed at that, and you were relieved when you felt yourself being deposited onto the bed. Rafe was saying something else to you, but none of it registered as you sought out sleep once again. Your intentions were interrupted though when you felt a hand on your face, and even in your inebriated state, you knew it didn’t feel right. Forcing your eyes open, you struggled to push Rafe’s hand away.

“I just want to make sure you don’t throw up in your sleep,” he mumbled when your eyes blearily met his. “Is that okay?”

You drunkenly blinked at him, lips trembling.

“Why don’t you call me ‘mom’?”

Your question was whispered, voice shaky, and as much as you wanted him out of your bedroom, you also wanted him to answer the question. The house was quiet, both Wheezie and Sarah asleep, and the only light was that of the light in the hall. You didn’t take your eyes off of Rafe as you waited for him to answer no matter how much you wanted to.

In the low lighting, you could see the way his dirty blond hair hung onto his forehead, the light glinting off of his blue eyes.

“I never have,” was his response.

“Well, maybe you should,” you forced out. “I don’t want you saying my name anymore.”

You didn’t miss the way his nostrils flared at that.

“Why not?”

“…because I don’t like it,” you confessed, tears kissing your eyes. “Not anymore.”

His face fell a bit at the way your voice cracked, and when he reached for you again, you hurriedly sat up.

The silence was loud as you just stared at each other, something unspoken passing between you. You felt like you wanted to crawl out of your own skin whenever he so much as looked at you, now, thoughts running wild with what you prayed to be untrue. His stony expression told you that they weren’t, that he’d been found out, and in your drunken state, you couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over.

When he reached for you again, it startled you right off of the bed.

The night stand shook as you fell against it, and you cried out in pain just as Rafe cursed. You didn’t want his help, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t need it as he hurried to reach you. The feel of his hands on you burned and not in a good way, causing you to flinch away from his touch. That didn’t deter him though, and his grip was tight as he kept you in place, his other hand reaching for your head.

“Did you hit your head? Are you-?”

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, shoving at his chest, and Rafe grew quiet.

The only sound for a while was your soft sobs, and Rafe’s refusal to leave you alone kept him kneeling before you. When you tried to stand up, he ignored your protests, reaching out and helping you. You swayed, and Rafe kept you close much to your chagrin. You wanted him gone as soon as possible, so you were quick to sit back down, but Rafe didn’t let your waist or your hand go.

Swooping down, he captured your lips in a kiss.

You wanted to gag.

His hand was almost painfully twisted around yours, making you wince, and every attempt to scoot back was only met with the resistance of his hand on your waist. Your stomach churned as he moved his mouth against yours, wanting to be sick at the feel of him kissing you on the same bed where Ward used to sleep. When his fingers dipped beneath your shirt, you bit him.

Hard.

You took the moment to remove yourself as he cried out, hurrying towards the bathroom and locking yourself inside. That awful sick feeling wasn’t as hollow as you thought, your knees hitting the floor almost as soon as you made it inside, head bent in the toilet. You couldn’t stop crying as you emptied your stomach, throat scratchy from the alcohol that was coming back up.

When you were able to catch your breath, you were shaking. You could still feel Rafe’s lips on yours, and on top of everything else you were forced to deal with in the months following your husband’s death, this was the last thing you’d ever anticipated.

You’d slept on the bathroom floor that night, refusing to leave and face Rafe. If Sarah and Wheezie noticed the tension between the two of you, they didn’t comment on it or at the very least, not to you. The knowledge that Rafe wanted to take Ward’s place in every facet of the household made you sick, and while neither of you mentioned that night, it also felt clear between the two of you that it wouldn’t be ignored forever.

You wanted him out of the house.

…but that wasn’t your place, was it? Rafe had more of a right to all of this way more than you did, and you couldn’t be the one to leave. Rafe may have been nineteen and an adult in the eyes of the law, but no matter how much of a 180 he’d done, you couldn’t trust him to properly raise Wheezie and Sarah. Especially now that you knew his 180 had less to do with just wanting to be a better person or more about taking on the role Ward had played in every way.

You shuddered at the thought, and oddly enough, this tempted you to drink yourself into a stupor more than Ward’s death ever did.

You and Rafe were ten years apart, so seeing him like a son had always been hard at times, but it didn’t stop you from treating him like one in the years that you’d been with his father. You’d liked to think that the sentiment was returned, and maybe at one time it had been, and maybe after Ward’s death things just…changed.

Was this your fault?

Had you dropped the ball so hard that he couldn’t even bring himself to see you as a parental figure anymore? Did he stop trying to respect you as one or…? Or did it have to do with how much he’d had to take care of you? You didn’t treat him any different, talk to him any different, so maybe you hadn’t done anything to change his perception of you.

Even if you had…what could you possibly have done to make him see you as a potential partner?

As if your nights weren’t bad enough—haunted by memories of Ward and that day you’d been told he was dead—you were now also kept awake by the knowledge that your stepson very much wanted to fill the void left by his father. And maybe if Rafe were anyone else, you could’ve talked about this, tried to sort through this, but Rafe was Rafe, and you reminded yourself that the Rafe you were accustomed to had only disappeared less than six months ago.

…and you’d seen hints of him just peeking from below the surface.

You resisted the urge to drink these days, positive that one sip would have you spiraling. You didn’t know how to cope with this new development, but you knew it couldn’t be that way. It didn’t go unnoticed that the night Rafe kissed you, you’d been drunk out of your mind, completely vulnerable to him. You also couldn’t bring yourself to take anymore sleeping pills, recalling Sarah’s words that day as she’d told Rafe that you were depressed…not tired.

She was right.

…and so despite the difficulty, you forced yourself to try and sleep without medication night after night. It was hard for several reasons, the most pressing of which being the unnerving presence of the nineteen-year-old just down the hall. It made it hard to find sleep most nights, and on the nights in which you did, you still do so with only maybe four hours to your name.

It was noticeable.

“I can stay and help, you know. It’s just John B., and he’ll understand why I’m late,” Sarah offered.

You could see by the look on her face that she was worried about you, and despite your attempt, you knew that your reassuring smile didn’t convince her.

“Sarah, it’s a Saturday night,” you told her. “I’m not going to make you stay and help me clean the kitchen, especially when you helped me cook and stayed for dinner.”

She looked like she wanted to argue but decided against it.

“Yeah, I’m glad I did.”

Her tone told you that she was feeling bad about the other dinners she’d skipped out on, and you were proven right.

“I’m sorry about not staying for all the others and…basically avoiding you,” she quietly apologized. “It’s just that Ward cared about you a lot, and when I’m around you, it’s easy to see why…and it just makes me think about him.”

You only exhaled at that, letting out a small chuckle as you washed the dishes.

“You don’t have to apologize, Sarah. I get it,” you whispered, pausing. “I miss him too.”

“Yeah, well, he’s an asshole, but Rafe was kind of right in confronting me over my behavior.”

The mention of Rafe had your hairs standing on end, and you swallowed down a sigh, still unsure what you were going to do about the blond.

“There were better ways for him to get his point across…”

Sarah only found that funny, softly laughing to herself.

“Yeah, but he wouldn’t be Rafe if he didn’t be rude about it, so,” she trailed off, pushing away from the counter. “I’ll be back before 1.”

You hummed at that, letting her know that was okay, and it was only ten minutes later that you were alone. Wheezie went to a sleepover just after dinner, and Rafe hadn’t been home all day. Before where that would have concerned you, now you could only be relieved to get some reprieve from the oldest Cameron. God knows that you needed the space to think.

Going over every scenario in your mind, the best one seemed to be to hope that it would just go away. You didn’t want to find yourself in some sort of legal battle if you even attempted to kick Rafe out and basically bar him from his own home. Legality of it all aside, it just wasn’t morally right. This was where he grew up, his safe space, and you couldn’t even pretend to feel comfortable at the thought.

The other option just wasn’t even an option. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t just pack up and abandon Wheezie and Sarah. Never mind the fact that you’d been in their lives for three years now, but now more than ever they needed stability. Their father only just died, and what kind of person would you be if you decided you just didn’t want to be responsible for them anymore? Allowing Rafe to run you off wasn’t an option.

Besides, there was a tiny and terrifying voice in the back of your head anyway that said he wouldn’t even let you.

It was an hour later that you found yourself in bed after cleaning the kitchen and taking a bath. You needed the soak, needed to do whatever you could to relax you. It wasn’t even ten o’clock, but considering how hard sleep was for you to find lately, you figured there was no harm in letting your head hit the pillow early.

Maybe you could trick your body into going to sleep at a decent time.

The minutes dragged on and were made to feel like hours, but the silence of the house and the fact that you were alone did more wonders than you thought. You could feel your eyelids becoming heavy, and what little sounds you could make out from outside slowly started to fade. The last thing you recalled was your body feeling heavier…

…and then you were standing in front of Shoupe, and he was telling you that Ward was dead, and you couldn’t even stand on your feet anymore.

You sat up with a gasp, struggling to breathe, and by the way your vision blurred, you knew that you’d been crying in your sleep. There was a voice in your ear shushing you, and despite the fact that you knew who the hands on your arms belonged to, your mind was too preoccupied with painful memories to fully register it.

Rafe pulled you against him, holding you to him as you sobbed, thinking to yourself that it had been a few weeks since you’d had a really bad reaction. You shook in his hold, head bowed as you wailed, and you were momentarily grateful that the house was empty. The blond rocked you, forcing you to press your face into the crook of his neck, and it was only then that you registered the smell of alcohol.

Before you could gather yourself to ask Rafe where he’d been, his hands were clumsily grasping at your face.

You sharply inhaled when he kissed you…again. You could taste the alcohol on his tongue, and you were so distraught that it took you too long to realize what was happening. The kiss was hungry, Rafe tasting the inside of your mouth and kissing you in a way that might’ve taken your breath away under different circumstances.

As it were, you could only register that you were being kissed by your deceased husband’s son again. It made your stomach twist uncomfortably, and your efforts to reach up and pull his hands away from your face were futile. You made a noise of protest, attempting to lean away, but he ignored it. Even when you bit at him like before, he ignored it.

With horror, you realized that Rafe wasn’t stopping it.

Panic began to set in, and when you shoved at his chest, he quickly reached to close his hand around your wrist. At the same time, he leaned into you more, forcing you back, and you didn’t put your hand down in time to prevent that. With him now on top of you, your heart was threatening to leap from your chest.

“Rafe,” you gasped when he pulled away. “Rafe, stop!”

Your voice came out panicked and shrill, but instead of listening to you, the sounds were only joined by that of your shorts ripping.

“He would want me to look after you,” he drunkenly murmured, making your stomach drop.

You both fought for the right to your shirt, you trying to keep it on and Rafe trying to take it off. You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack, telling yourself that this wasn’t happening. In the worst way possible, you discovered that Rafe was much stronger than he looked, feeling like you got the wind knocked out of you when he roughly shoved you down after your attempt to sit up.

You could hear yourself crying, and you knew that Rafe could too.

With a hand tightly snaking around your throat, his other fumbled to get his own pants off. Focused on trying to breathe, you reached up to pull at his hand. You could hear a ringing in your ears, and your chest felt tighter than it did when you first woke up from your nightmare. His lower half was pinning you down, and the blood you could feel yourself drawing on his hand and arm didn’t slow him down.

He was shushing you when you felt his skin against yours, and one of your hands twisted into his shirt as he started to push himself into you. The feel had your feet stretching, and you let out a choked sound despite the pressure on your throat. He was torturously slow in stretching you out around him, and with every further push of his hips, you clawed at his shirt some more.

He only let your neck go when his hips were firmly pressed against yours.

As you coughed and wheezed, he reached behind his head to pull the fabric off, tossing it somewhere without a car. The moment his chest was bare, he reached for you again despite your difficulty to breathe, and his lips covered yours in another kiss. You didn’t even have time to register the kiss because he was thrusting into you with abandon. His hips were wildly snapping against yours, and you gasped into his mouth.

Rafe searched for your hands, threading his fingers through your own and pinning it against the bed next to your head. His other hand was digging into your hips, kipping them in place as he fucked you. You struggled to catch your breath, sharply inhaling and gasping with every thrust. The stretch was unfamiliar, and your mind spun with the fact that you hadn’t experienced this in months and also who it was with.

When Rafe pulled his lips away from yours, you let out a sob, and he gently shushed you, curving his hips into yours.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured in the darkness. “It’s okay.”

You had so much you wanted to scream and shout at the blond, but you couldn’t even find the words. With every feeling of his cock sliding against your walls, your eyes rolled. His head fell next to yours, his heavy breathing in your ear as he pinned you down with his entire body. You weren’t able to move, only forced to lie beneath him and feel what he was doing to you.

He grunted in your ear with a particularly hard thrust, and you let out a yelp.

Just then, you heard the door open downstairs, and hearing it too, Rafe stopped. He was quick to cover your mouth with a hand, and he was completely still as you heard who you surmised was Sarah coming up the stairs. Your heart was so heavy in your chest, and it was all you could hear in your ears.

When she made it to the hallway, she stopped.

“Y/N, are you asleep?” she called.

At that, Rafe pressed down harder on both your mouth and you, and after a few moments, you heard the younger girl sigh. When the sound of her room door shutting reached your ears, Rafe kept his hand on your mouth, but he felt compelled to keep fucking you.

He was slow in doing so, now, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

He slowly dragged his cock in and out of you, pulling his hips back until just the tip remained—sometimes pulling out completely—before pushing back in and making your chest arch up into his. He quietly told you that it was okay, softly groaning as you unintentionally squeezed him. Rafe’s lips brushed against your neck and jaw, and now that the two of you were no longer alone, the room was deathly quiet.

So quiet that you could hear the sound of his cock plunging into you.

It was a sound that embarrassed you, a sound that made you want to cry. Rafe’s arms trembled as he fought to keep himself from just relaxing on top of you completely, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him that if he uncovered your mouth, you wouldn’t even scream. You would be too ashamed to let anyone know what Rafe Cameron was doing to you.

With his lips at your neck, you could feel them move as he talked.

“My dad’s gone…”

The mention of Ward in this moment made more tears spill over, and when he slowly removed his hand, you let out a shaky breath as you silently cried. Lifting his head, Rafe’s gaze found yours, his hips still slowly pushing against yours.

“…and I know that it’s killing you, but…”

He swallowed, looking between your eyes.

“…but you have me, now,” you let out a soft cry at that. “You do, and I’m…I’m going to take care of you.”

His hand reached up to touch your face, the tips of his fingers grazing your wet cheek. You shook your head, feeling like you were going to be sick, and Rafe only shushed you. His lips followed yours as you attempted to turn your head away, and you could taste your tears in the kiss.

“I’ve got the business…I’ve got the family ring…” his lips moved against yours as he spoke into the kiss. “…and I’ve got you.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #obx #outer banks #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine

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rafesfavbimbo · 3 months ago

Text

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Glamour Model!Reader

Read Part 2 here

Moodboard for this chapter here.

Author’s Note: I could not get this idea out of my head since I sent it in to @bunnyrafe. So I decided to create my own little universe about it. Imagine playboy is still big and making magazines + social media post. (w/o all the dark history.) It’s canon reader has a boob job bc yk Playboy. But I made her non-descriptive as possible. Season 1 Rafe.

Tw: Stalking, Emotional Cheating (by Tooper), Objectification/Sexualization, slight non-descriptive smut, Canon-Rafe, eventual smut.

Rafe thanks whatever higher power decided to make sure he was at this exact location at this exact time. Almost feeling like he needs to thank God for guiding him here or some shit.

His curiosity peaked when he was driving down the one way road near the cut. His eyes going immediately to the ropes blocking off and a sign stating “Closed,” on one of the prettiest parts of the beach. Pfft, nothing’s ever private for the self-crowned King of Kildare. So Rafe does what comes natural to him; he inserts his nose in business that has nothing to do with him, with an arrogance that states it’s his right to know and parks his freshly-washed truck. Immediately sneaking under the ropes and walking a short distance until he sees something that for once in a long, long while. Leaves him struck.

He’s watching from afar as a crew sets up various reflectors. There’s slight chaos, people buzzing around and setting up. A photographer adjusting the lens on his camera. Women decked in casual clothing, going through a rack with various pieces of barely-there lingerie and bikinis.

But that’s not what catches Rafe’s attention.

It’s her.

There she’s sat in a pink directors chair. Her hair in a pretty blowout, flowing long behind her with the beach breeze. Her pretty legs peeking out from the white robe wrapped around her. Smooth and glowing, stretching down to pretty manicured toes. Makeup artist buzz around her, adding finishing touches to her flawless face, slathering gloss against plump, pouty lips and adjusting the tousled loose curls flowing around her gorgeous face.

Even from afar Rafe can see the long, wispy lashes adorning pretty eyes, staring up at the woman standing over her, brushing a makeup brush lightly over the smooth skin of her face.

He knows who she is, he knows exactly who she is. She’s been the figment in his imagination whenever he’s desperate and withering, stroking himself. Eyes shut tightly imagining her perfect figure withering under him or staring harshly at his phone screen at the skimpy photo she’s posing for.

He’d never in his life imagine he’d be standing right in front of his biggest fantasy. Albeit from afar, but so close. He feels like a creep, like a peeping tom lurking on what he knows is going to be another one of the various, scandalous shoots she’s so famous for. He can’t help it, even with all the chaos surrounding her he’s zoned in on her and her only.

When she stands up, the white fluffy robe falling erotically off her shoulder, exposing more of her smooth skin, it has him huffing deeply out of his nose. His eyes zoned in on her behind his wayfarers, hand slightly clenching.

It’s when she begins untying the lose knot on the straps of her robe that his him tensing up the most. The smooth skin of her back being revealed down to her pert, plump butt and slim thighs. He feels like he’s dreaming, almost like he wants to pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. But the blaring heat of the sun, the sweat dripping down his tan forehead, making his shirt stick to his back and the painful ache of his stiffened cock brings him back to reality.

She hands the robe to the woman next to her, throwing her tousled curls behind her back. Her back is still facing him but when she turns around … that’s when Rafe really feels like he’s died and gone straight to erotic heaven. He runs his gaze down the entirety of the beach goddess standing right in front of him. His slightly clenched fist now turning white at the knuckles and blunt nails digging into his palm.

He runs his eyes over her perfect, incredibly busty perky tits and perfect upturned nipples. Down to her smooth, flat stomach which pinches in perfectly at the waist and rounds out to beautiful hips he wants to grip into and leave bruised. Her skin glowing, flawless. Slathered in some kind of oil or lotion, making her glisten exquisitely under the North Carolina sun.

But it’s when he sees the perfect V sat inbetween her slightly muscular, yet plush thighs that he lets out a deep heavy groan. The perfectly groomed landing strip waxed there teasing him and making him want to feel it tickle his nose as he buries his face into the most perfect cunt he’s seen in his life.

She’s looking down at her stomach, smoothing her pretty hands over it and then flipping her head back adjusting her hair with both hands, eyes closed. It’s like she knows he’s right there and like she’s putting on a show for him and he revels in it.

He watches as she turns back around and prances confidently forward, walking on the tips of her french-tipped toes slightly kicking the sand. Walking toward the shore and dipping her toes in it.

“Alright everybody! Let’s get this going!” Shouts the older man with frosted tips, dressed flamboyantly. An enthusiastic smile on his slightly wrinkled face.

Rafe watches as men on the crew adjust the reflectors, and he especially watches as his dream girl faces the crowd once behind her. And all he can wonder is how she can feel so comfortable standing so bare in front of so many people. Her hands coming to her pretty hips, cocking them to one side as she digs her french-tipped nails into her smooth-tanned skin.

Rafe gets closer and ducks behind one of the various palms trees hiding his tall figure, needing to get a closer look and hear whatever the fuck they’re talking about.

“Okay y/n, we’re gonna do a couple prints with the blowout and then a good few in the water with your hair slicked back. Sound good?” states, who he’s positive by now is, the photographer.

“Yeah. Sounds good.” she replies back, light and airy with a sweet giggle. Fuck, even though he can barely hear what’s going on just the cadence of the way she speaks sends his nerves into overdrive.

“Perfect.” chips the photographer, “Let’s get a roll on it while the sun is still out.”

Rafe stays there the entire time. The ache in his cock growing bigger, his chest tightened and body tense watching her maneuver herself into various poses. And in his sick mind he feels as if she’s posing for him, and him only. Teasing him with that perfect body and flawless face, seductively bending and prancing around as various clicks and murmurs of praise clamor near.

It’s when the sun starts bleeding into the ocean like lovers reuniting and leaving a warm orange haze across the beach as the photographer shouts “aaaanddd that’s a wrap!” that Rafe realizes he’s been there the entire time. His once neat and primped, plaid button up now soaked through with sweat.

“You did great! I think this is one of your best editorials yet! Absolutely stunning my dear, as always.” praises the flamboyant man as he embraces the now covered model, giving her a slight squeeze and she returns his affections with a warm smile on her face.

“It’s always the best time working with you Stephen, you make it great.” she quips genuinely. Pretty lips turning up on a sweet smile.

“Nonsense, you make my job easy being as perfect as you are. My star! Now get some rest, you’ve earned it. And maybe visit around the Island, I know you love places like this.” He pinches her smooth cheek endearingly.

“Maybe! We’ll see. Goodnight everyone thank you!”

Various voices shouting “goodnight y/n” and “be safe,” reply back. As if he would let anything happen to his precious gift, thinks Rafe.

The beach princess of his dreams now changed into a baby pink, ‘Juciy’ velour jumpsuit and light-brown uggs. Her drying hair clipped back in a light pink claw clip, walking her way up the designated path back to the main road.

Rafe jumps into action, making it back quickly to his truck and speeding out of there before anyone catches him. Debating if he should have followed her to make sure she got back to wherever she’s staying safely. But his cock was so hard it was almost painful. He needed to get home. Driving all the way with only one thought in his mind. Her.

That night, Rafe fist his cock till he can’t anymore under the shower head until the once hot water turns freezing cold. His eyes shut tightly replaying the events he’ll forever have ingrained into his mind, from earlier.

And once he finishes up and steps out of the shower, drying himself off and staring at himself in the mirror. He’s only got one thought in his head. His methodical brain going into overdrive with plots. That no matter what it takes, she’ll be his. Under his thumb, and he’ll never let her go. Ever.

“Did you hear who’s on the island? Everyone’s talking about it man.” quips Topper straightening himself quickly with excitement. The country club is lively, Kooks in every corner and constant murmurs of conversation all around.

“Hell yeah! I’ve been dying to see her, I want to know if she’s as sexy in real life as she is in pictures and on social media.” states Kelce, fully catching onto Topper’s direction of conversation with the same enthusiasm.

She is. Thinks Rafe, knowing exactly who they’re talking about. His stomach filling with that possessiveness he’s so well-known for. His eyes glaring at his friends behind his shades, who talk animatedly about you. He catches slight statements of “she’s the ultimate wet dream” and “i’d do anything for just one night,” as his ears ring with brewing rage.

Ha! He thinks. He’d bash their heads in before they even got near you. His perverted mind already convincing himself that you belong solely to him. And he’s not letting his grip loose.

“Aren’t you dating my sister, bro?” drawls Rafe in his deep, nasally cadence. His legs spread wide as he leans back confidently with his arms over the chairs handles. His demeanor threatening and protective. The boys assuming over Sarah, but in his mind it’s because they’re speaking about his woman.

“Yeah-I mean-c’mon man this is Y/N Y/LN we’re talking about. She’s like the ultimate sex symbol and besides she’s basically famous. We probably won’t see her, let a man drea-holy shit.” Topper’s eyes widen comically, staring straight behind Rafe as Kelce turns in the same direction, jaw dropping slightly and body sitting forward quickly. Eyes bulging in the same comedic manner as Topper.

Rafe’s brows furrow as he watches people in his line of vision all turn in the same direction, eyes of lust, shock, curiosity and even envy from the various men and women around. And when Rafe tilts his head to the side, eyeing whatever is behind him from his peripheral vision that has people, including his friends so starstruck, does he see the girl who’s been invading his mind since yesterday.

There she is. In the prettiest, skimpiest little off-white sundress. Her statuesque figure shown off by the scrap of clothing and contrasting perfectly against her skin-tone. Her skin is glowing just like it was yesterday, stunning legs on display and her pretty feet sitting beautifully in clear platform mules. Shiny hair pinned up in a messy up-do with wispy hairs framing her face beautifully. Big squared glasses perched on her perfect nose and a small smile on her luscious lips as she listens to- is that fucking Sarah?

People’s eyes follow his sister and his future woman as they make their way over to the table resided by the 3 boys. Men and women’s eyes lowering down to her backside and he can only imagine what they’re leering at if the shortness in the front of her dress is any indicator for the length in the back. All the attention quickly dividing elsewhere when Sarah reaches them and speaks up.

“Hey guys!” says his sister enthusiastically as she catches them in her line of sight, immediately reaching back and holding her hand out to guide you along with her. “This is y/n. I met her at the market.” Idiot, thinks Rafe. Why would Sarah think they’d need to be introduced to someone that even his own Dad, has admitted to finding attractive. Rafe shudders at the thought.

Both Kelce and Topper shoot straight up, hands sticking out cheerfully shouting out overlapping “Hi’s” wearing smiles so big it looks like their cheeks hurt. Idiots, thinks Rafe. Why would they make it so obvious? Especially Topper in front of Sarah?

“Hi…” the model says shyly, reaching her hand out and placing it delicately in Topper’s. Giving him a warm smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“This is my boyfriend Topper, who by the way is a big fan!” says Sarah gives Topper a playful eye roll and smug smile, to which he bashfully looks to the side with a cough to clear his throat, cheeks reddening. “This is Kelce, and this,” Sarah turns to point “is my brother Rafe,” to a still-sitting Rafe. Who now rises slowly, shades hiding his pretty cobalt eyes. He stands to full height, towering over the 4 of you and inching a bit closer to you, taking off his glasses as he hangs them on the collar of his white polo.

When y/n turns to look at him, it’s like something struck in both of them. Rafe already felt someway, he stalked her all day yesterday for fucks-sake! But being near her is making his body and mind go haywire. He watches as she pulls her glasses off, exposing those pretty eyes and long wispy lashes. Perching them on her head.

When y/n looks at him though, her breath stops and she’s looking at him with a love-struck look that has Rafe smirking. Hook.

“Hello,” drawls Rafe, his voice deep and nasally, reaching his hand out, “nice to meet you.” He says with the same smug smirk sat on his pretty face. He watches as she places her delicate hand in his palm, beautiful eyes still stuck on him and now locking with his piercing ones. He brings her small hand up to his lips, holding eye contact and pressing a small kiss to her knuckles. Taking in the creamy, vanilla scent radiating off of her and smooth skin of her palm.

“Hiiii..” she whispers, airy voice as light as ever. Eyes still stuck on him in a daze and glazed over with… is that lust? Rafe convinces himself it is, and he’s almost sure it is. Only deepening his para social infatuation with her. “It’s nice to meet you ..Rafe.” He swears he can drop dead right there, hearing his name roll off her tongue in that pretty voice he imagined moaning into his ear all night.

“Ahem!” Sarah clears her throat inquisitively. Breaking the veil that lifted over the both of them for that single moment, like two lovers destined to meet. Topper and Kelce watching the interaction with wide eyes. “Well, now that you’ve got acquainted with a couple people around here and have pretty much seen all there is to this area, that’s interesting anyway. How about we go down to the Outer Ban-“

“No.” quips Rafe sternly. Voice firm. Leaving no room for argument with just a single word. His eyes cutting deeply into Sarah, whose face now scrunches with defensive attitude, “what is your problem?” she bites back.

The two boys still watching with wide eyes, but glancing over unabashedly at the model whose eyes are still focused on the man who’s got heat building between her thighs very quickly. And her heart pounding in her chest.

“You wanna take her to the Cut? Around those filthy fucking pogues?” bites back Rafe with the same animosity, inching forward threateningly as if daring Sarah. As if she ever gave a fuck what her brother thought. “Yeah.” she bites back firmly, “And what? She did a photoshoot there just last night.” Oh, I know. “She wants to see the area outside of working, besides I’m her tour guide and I promised to show her the whole island and that’s what I’m gonna do.” scoffs Sarah, rolling her eyes at her brother’s ingrained dominance.

“Nah. You’re not.” quips back Rafe, arrogance radiating off of his big and tall frame. “Nah, you know what. I’ll take it upon myself to show this sweet little princess around, if she wants to see the Cut or play in the water it’s better she’s with someone who can take care of her. Protect her from those fucking weirdos you like so much. Like me.” says Rafe with that smug smile on his face that Sarah wants to smack off 100% of the time. “Who do you even think you are-“

“So you wanna see the Outer Banks, beautiful? How about I show you around?” He cuts off Sarah, ignoring the anger radiating off of her as he turns his full attention to his proclaimed little princess. Who had been watching the whole time, struck by the sexy man who she now knows as Sarah’s brother and who’s got her inner thighs squeezing together and slick. His causal dominance over her, making her head hazy, and stomach flip.

Line.

Sarah, Topper and Kelce stand stunned by Rafe’s casual display of dominance but more-so by the fact that they can see that she liked it. A flirty giggle falling from her lips as she nods her head quickly. Leaning her body into him. Rafe smiles at the sweet sound, throwing his arm over her shoulders and turning his back to his sister and friends. Completely over-taking her attention and asserting his claim. She immediately nuzzles into his side, her arm wrapping around his waist and giving Rafe her undivided attention as she looks up at him with doe-eyes hanging onto every word that falls from his pretty pink lips.

“Yeah? You Like that?” He brings his other hand to pinch her chin, then giving it a slight knock with his index finger as he smirks down at her. “You stick with me and I’ll show you exactly everything you’ve been missing and whatever you want to see. I’ll take such good care of you, princess. Don’t worry.”

Sinker.

Read Part 2 here.

a/n: phew! he’s so dreamy ugh! I hope you all enjoy!

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron angst #outer banks #sarah cameron #rafe imagine #glamourmodel!reader

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writingmeraki · 9 days ago

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ribs — a rafe cameron series.

❝ In which, you did not think there was a way for you to ever come to love the beach, sea and the annoying sand that never seemed to leave you, but then again you did not think you'd ever meet let alone possibly associate yourself with someone like Rafe Cameron.

( or you hated the beach and all that came with it, but turns out this initially disappointing summer could be changed by the presence of one intriguing person. And the fact that his eyes were probably bluer than the ocean itself. Perhaps you could learn to mildly like it. )

pairing : richboy!rafe cameron x tourist/newbie!gn!reader, brief one-sided enemies to acquaintances to friends to lovers. genre : fluff, humour, angst, romance, friendship, coming of age, realisations and epiphanies, contemplations and questioning, summer seasonnn!! also ft. rest of the obx characters and ocs too! warnings : cussing, alcohol, drug-use but only for a brief while, mentions of fear of the ocean, slowburn-ish, non-canon ( does not follow the main plot at all but a bit of the relationship dramas- yeah. ), and more to be added as we progress! also ik the synopsis is...messy but pls i promise i will b making this as fun and equally an emotional roller coaster as possible!! series inspo : ribs by lorde. | series playlist : here

not sure if i should make a taglist but ig if you want to be tagged let me know ?

CHAPTER INDEX.

i. and the ocean is still the same. disgustingly blue and terrifyingly deep.

ii. and the way you act is very familiar. fake and just for others.

iii. to be announced !

( chapter names likely to be changed....)

a/n : so i pretty much gave into my brainrot again and welp this somehow sprouted from it. a rafe series. but imma be honest i've been feral for him since like the past two years....i am surprised now is when i write for him hahaha but yes here this is! i created a masterlist for this because im gonna make this split b/w some parts...hopefully finishing it up....but this time i have changed a lot of things and im gonna soo...chapter one will be presented to you in a few hours! enjoy this with me and i hope you like this ^^

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! links : main navi ! | misc masterlist | main masterlist | info !

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onsunnyside · 2 years ago

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.♡ ⃗ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 (𝟏/𝟓)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | best friend!JJ Maybank x reader (College AU)

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, friends-to-lovers, college au, non-canon ages, ‘lessons in love & pleasure’ trope, kook!reader, size difference, shy!reader, inexperienced & virgin!reader, clumsy!reader, cute first kisses.

♫ ·ﾟ𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝗪/𝗖 | 3.97K

𝗔/𝗡 | and here we go !! this is my first obx series, so pls wish me luck, also note that this is a college au, meaning all characters are 21+. this will be angst-free, just a fluffy fic about two friends falling in love, starring a charming blond surfer. i'd love to hear your thoughts about this so far. as always, all mistakes are my own. ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐎𝐁𝐗 (& 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬) 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The rays of the sun beam down, burning your heated face as you exit the building. Hurriedly stuffing your uniform in your bag, you rush down the stairs and toward the main campus. You weave between students, nearly tripping while anxiously checking the time on your phone.

A few minutes late wasn’t that bad. You didn’t expect your professor to take the entire period given that it was the last day before spring break. It would’ve been more bearable if you had any friends in that class, but none of them showed. Perhaps you should’ve done the same and got a headstart on break too, or at least a full eight hours of sleep for the first time in months.

Approaching the common area, the familiar sound of the fountain meets your ears amongst the chatter and laughter from your peers.

Your eyes fall on a familiar blond, a toothpick between his teeth as he mindlessly scrolls through his cell phone. He stands out amongst the sea of plaid skirts, ties and blazers, wearing a backwards cap, cargo shorts and a tank top, his toned arms as sunkissed as ever. You call his name and break into a skip.

“If it isn’t the smartest gal I know…” You melt in his hold, that signature coastal citrusy scent washing over you like waves on a shore. After one final squeeze, he pulls away, his blue eyes flickering down to your feet. “And she still doesn’t remember to tie her damn shoes.”

“I was already running late, I couldn’t stop!”

He rolls his eyes and drops to one knee, bringing your foot to the other, “yeah, and what would’ve happened if you tripped? Or got stuck in an escalator? Or tangled in some wild vines?” He asks, quickly tying both your laces.

“Too late for one of those…” You pull up the hem of your dress, exposing the mismatched bandaids on both your knees.

“Did you try to walk and chew gum at the same time?”

You huff, “actually, I got it while golfing. The tall grass is really misleading.”

Your mother had scolded you for the grass stains on your new shoes, yet another pair just victim to your clumsiness, much like everything else you own.

As expected, JJ’s mood sours at the mention of Figure 8. Years after that kegger incident, JJ was still very bitter towards anything Kook-related. He didn’t want to hear about Rafe and his crew and almost turned red at the mere mention of their names. He tolerated you, Sarah and Kie talking about Midsummers, and was absolutely zero help when you were discussing dresses and crowns.

“Who was there?”

“Just my dad, Sarah and Mr. Cameron.”

JJ hums, peering up at you through his lashes. “Anyone else?”

You cross your arms, “Rafe never comes if that’s what you’re asking. He’s too busy working for his dad, and is probably halfway across the world, sipping on Dom Pérignon by the beach.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s not like he asked you to join him… again.”

A loud sigh falls from your lips, “That was one time! And he didn’t even ask, Mr. Cameron wanted me to check on him and make sure he wasn’t blowing profits on new bikes or drugs.”

JJ drops it after that, he could say anything he wanted but that wouldn’t impact your relationship with the Camerons. Since your parents owned and operated the Island Club, and rich people liked other rich people.

Your entire childhood was spent on Figure 8 alongside Sarah and the rest of the Kooks. You were grateful to live so comfortably, never having to worry about bills or losing electricity for days on end, but you’ve always envied the Pogues. Their freedom and exciting adventures were so different from the lonely box you were born in.

With years of friendship between you and the rest of the Pogues, your mother still referred to them as ‘those kids from The Cut.’

Your father, on the other hand, had a soft spot for them—especially JJ because of their shared love for cars and motorbikes. There have been a few times that you’ve caught them messing around in the garage after JJ left for more snacks and drinks, practically abandoning you all by the pool for some grease and engines.

Although he liked the blond boy, you know your father would disapprove of the many nights he’s sneaked through your window for a little sleepover. You were used to it now, sharing a bed with your best friend was a regular occurrence. It was platonic, even when you’d wake up in each other’s arms, tucked close.

JJ’s morning voice never failed to make you all fuzzy inside.

“Hello? Are you gonna get on or does the princess need help?”

Ignoring his remark, you quickly straddle his bike and wince at the dull pain in your thigh, “I also got a nasty bruise that day—note to self, never try to retrieve golf balls from deceitful tall grass again.”

He chuckles and twists around, “poor baby, want me to kiss it better?”

As if the sun had solely focused on you, your whole body heats up, a warmth fluttering in your belly as your mind searches for a response.

“I-I, uhm…oh, I—”

JJ laughs loud with a dimpled grin, “Why don’t you think about it and tell me later? We’re already running late and you know how Pope is with that.”

The Wreck is busy this time of day, every seat filled with college students and Tourons as waiters zoom from table to table. The delicious smell of seafood clouds the air and loud conversations drown out the radio. Sunshine pours from the windows, bathing the nautical decorations in an orange glow. Fishnets, brass ship wheels, and various hand-painted signs hang on the walls, strung up alongside fairy lights and ceiling fans.

You and JJ beeline for your designated spot, the booth all the way in the corner of the restaurant. As suspected, everyone is already there apart from Kie, you side in next to Pope and exchange gleeful greetings.

“And she lives! After that tumble at the golf course, I’m surprised you don’t have a cast or something.” Sarah snorts, the memory of you literally disappearing in the grass replaying in her head. “How’d your mom take it?”

You pout, “She was more concerned with my dirty clothes than my injuries,” and your bruised ego, “can you believe it?”

You’re met with mumbles of ‘yes’ and ‘of course,’ everyone awfully aware of your mother’s obsession with the picture-perfect image. If she had it her way, she would dress you every day to show off that Kook status, she’d put you in pastel prints, ironed polos, and hand-shined shoes. A part of you knows that the only thing stopping her from dressing you like a doll was your clumsiness, a saving grace disguised as aches and bandaids.

Her overbearing nature was also to blame for your timid heart, sometimes you were too scared to do any wrong that you wouldn’t do anything at all. Looming fear kept you in that box of solitude, unfulfilled expectations and thrills made you shrink away. As a child, you never had the confidence to speak up and often went with whatever your mother said, but that was until you met the Pogues. They helped you get out of your shell and introduced you to new experiences, they were the most patient and caring people you’ve met, and you wouldn’t trade their friendship for the world.

Out of the corner of your eye, Sarah and John B exchange a few chaste kisses. You immediately turn away, jumping into a conversation about Kie’s whereabouts with Pope.

“Her dad needed a hand, hopefully, she’ll be back with our food soon.” He answers and slides a glass in front of you, “she got this for you.”

It was your favourite smoothie flavour. You don’t waste any time and take a long sip, the sweet berries melting on your tongue, a momentary distraction from feeling so different from your friends.

Under your mother’s watchful eye, you never dared to step out of line and that has led you to being terribly inexperienced in everything dating-related. While your friends were partying and earning their stripes, you were watching from the sidelines and fumbling every opportunity that came your way. You tried to forget all those people who have pursued you, their texts unanswered and calls ignored.

You shake away those thoughts, “Did any of you have class today?”

Sarah flips her blond hair over her shoulder, “All my uniforms were in the wash, so it really wasn’t my fault. If private universities didn’t have mandatory uniforms… I still probably wouldn’t have gone.”

You and Sarah went to the same campus, but your schedules were far different. You could barely remember your own, let alone keep track of hers too.

Your gaze slowly shifts from each of their faces, “even you, Pope?”

“In my defence, I’m way ahead in all my courses, I could afford to miss a day.”

“Hmm… And does your dad know?” You tut, tilting your head.

He stares back at you, “Does your dad know you let Sarah and John B spend their anniversary in the country club after hours?”

Across the table, Sarah’s jaw drops. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“I didn’t! Only you and he know.” You point to her boyfriend who was blinking owlishly.

John B raises his hands, going rigid under his girlfriend’s glare. “I only told JJ.”

All eyes land on the blond, a paper crane napkin in his hands. “Hm? Oh yeah, I told Pope and Kie.”

“No secrets between Pogues.” They both high-five over your head.

You deflate, covering your face. “Don’t tell anyone else, okay? I don’t want to accidentally start some under-the-table business renting the club… My mom would kill me.”

JJ coos, rubbing up and down your back. “Hey, it’s no different than Sarah lending Ward’s yacht to Pope when he wanted to impress that Touron…” He shrieks when a hand slaps the back of his head, knocking his hat to the ground.

“Idiot! No one knew about that!”

“I think we can all agree that JJ is just terrible at keeping secrets. Can’t trust him with anything.”

You giggle and sip on your smoothie, half-listening to John B’s rant about some customers at the surf shop. JJ sticks a straw in your cup and drinks too, cheekily bumping your foreheads together, his pretty blue eyes locked onto yours.

You find it hard to turn away, your gaze drifting over his face. From his strong nose to his cheekbones carrying a slight sunburn to his defined jaw. He flashes a grin, those stupid dimples making you a little flustered.

JJ was a natural flirt, he could make anyone swoon, he showered his friends in platonic love and affection—hugs, cuddles, kisses, you name it and he’s done it to each of you. He’s dated around the island but those relationships never lasted long enough to get serious, and they’ve never been introduced to your group either.

You’ve always wondered what he was like as a boyfriend, if he was as sweet with his partners as he was with all of you, if that tenderness bled into all his actions. He wore his heart on his sleeve in the most admirable of ways, although he was hotheaded and troubled, you’ve always felt safe with him.

You pull away, squeezing your eyes shut, “agh! Brain freeze!”

He snorts, bringing you forward for a sloppy kiss on your forehead, his cold lips against your warm skin. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink so quickly, ya dummy.”

Kie finally joins the rest of you a while later, bringing trays of fresh food and more drinks before sitting beside John B. Her long brown hair is up in a bun, loose strands frame her face, “Just letting you all know, I expect a mighty fine tip today and everyone is helping me clean up after closing.”

“Might as well take my kidney while you’re at it.” JJ speaks through a mouthful of fries, “we’re supposed to relax today.”

“And I don’t feel like getting elbow-deep in dirty dishes if I’m not being paid for it,” John B adds.

“These free meals say different. C’mon, my dad promised he’d try not to disturb me this week if we get this place spotless for spring break.” She looks at you, brown eyes pleading, “I’ll get you a smoothie to go.”

“I mean… it’s a small price to pay for a week of freedom, right?”

“Not guaranteed freedom.”

JJ leans towards you, “don’t say yes.”

“There’s six of us, we could get it done in one hour or even less if we work fast!”

“I guess that’s true.” You agree, despite JJ’s protests.

“Sunshine, no—if you stay, I’m gonna have to stay too.”

Kie calls your name, reaching over to physically turn you towards her. “Don’t look at him. If you stay, he’ll stay, same goes for Sarah and John B, and well… Pope will stay regardless because he doesn’t have a choice.”

Pope pulls a face, “excuse me?”

Truthfully, you were going to stay anyway, but it does make you a little bashful knowing that JJ wouldn’t leave without you.

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

“Same here.” Sarah decides, earning a huff from her boyfriend, “And just for your attitudes, the guys have to clean the deep fryers.”

“Including Pope.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

After thoroughly cleaning The Wreck, the night concludes with a movie marathon at the Chateau. Pope keeps his streak of picking the best movies and chooses a trilogy you haven’t seen before. Bowls of snacks and beer cans litter the floor, and a half-finished pizza sits on the coffee table. Sarah and John B share one couch, and Kie and Pope are sprawled on the floor atop cushions and blankets, while you and JJ are tucked into the smallest couch, your legs over his lap.

As the opening credits roll on the screen, everyone takes the opportunity to do more catching up. Kie talks about cleaning up some beaches with other volunteers and her most recent trip off the island, a small project with a group of marine wildlife rescuers. She even shows a bunch of pictures of her with baby turtles.

John B and JJ talk about their co-owned surf shop, “We caved and hired extra help.”

“Finally!” Kie exclaims, “If you and JJ were running that shop alone any longer, it would go bankrupt, you’re both so fucking lazy.”

“Hey, I’m a great employee. I just got employee of the month actually.” JJ defends.

“You shouldn’t be proud of that if it’s only you two. You literally just vote for each other every month,” Sarah states knowingly.

You, Sarah and Pope don’t have much to say about your college careers, except for the lack of sleep and dependence on caffeine. It’s not very exciting, but Pope’s story about his professor who only attends class in socks makes you a little thankful for your overly strict school.

The marathon goes on, and the conversation dies down by the end of the second movie. Someone’s soft snoring flows over the steamy soundtrack and for the umpteenth time tonight, you look away as the two leads share a passionate kiss. At least it wasn’t another sex scene.

As your best friend, JJ could read you like a book. He knew you from the inside out, he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it, and he knew all of those humiliating secrets that kept you up at night. One of them being your lack of experience. When you confessed that, he told you it wasn’t something to be ashamed of, everyone moves at different paces and lives different lives—but kissing?

“You’ve never been kissed?”

You cover your face, embarrassment flooding in. “You don’t have to say it like that!”

“I’m not—I’m not teasing.” His smile says differently. He easily pulls your hands down, holding them in his lap, “it’s just not what I was expecting.”

He generally knew you weren’t the most experienced in intimacy and relationships, and that’s partly why he was so protective of you. Even at crowded parties and in his drunken state, he’d keep an eye on you, watching out for any creeps. Unbeknownst to you, it was an unspoken rule between the Pogues to treat you a little softer, a little sweeter because they all know how sensitive you were.

But he figured you’ve kissed someone before. Maybe some lucky kid from Figure 8 or a dude from your private school.

“I know, I know. You probably find it so funny.” You huff and roll your eyes, “laugh all you want, jerk.”

And to your chagrin, he does but quickly apologizes. “Sorry, sorry. Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But not in a bad way! It’s actually cute.”

Cute?

“It’s adorable.” He cups your face, “itty bitty baby hasn’t had her first kiss… not even with that poster in your bedroom?”

Your chest warms as he pinches and pulls both of your cheeks, puckering your lips when you try to speak, “...posh-ers don’t ha’ tongues.”

“Oh, so you wanna French kiss for your first time? Didn’t think you were that type of girl, sunshine.”

You push him back and try to scoot away, making do with whatever sliver of space you can manage between the two of you, but he doesn’t let you get far. Keeping you in place with his hands on your hips.

“You’re telling me, aside from no one taking you on a date before, no one has asked to kiss you either?”

“JJ, you know my parents. My mom is so hard to please, I can’t imagine bringing someone home for her approval. And I had opportunities but… I kept getting too nervous.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze tracing over your face. You hadn’t realized how close he was until now, you could count his every eyelash and his every freckle.

“I could help you out.”

A lump appears in your throat, it would silence your words if you could think of any but you can’t. Too caught up in his deep voice as it repeats in your head, again and again like a broken record.

“You trust me, right? You know me, I’m not—I’m not some guy you just met. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. If you wanted to, uh, kiss someone you just met, go ahead.” He reassures, “but I don’t think you want to do that.”

JJ was so awfully sentimental when it came to his friendships. His several shoe boxes of polaroids, tickets and trinkets under his bed said enough about his love for nostalgia. He was always one to take a chance, to live in a moment for as long as he could, and to find the positives in any situation, even the worst ones.

Years down the line, he never leaves the house without the silver zippo that you got him on a trip with your parents. It was easy to find something for each of your friends from your weeks-long stay in Europe: jewelry for Sarah and Kie, a first edition copy of a novel for Pope, and a vintage compass for John B, but you were stumped when it came to JJ.

You saved his gift for last, long after everyone else had fallen asleep, the mess of your celebratory return littering the backyard in empty beer bottles and confetti. He bugged you all night, eager for his special little something.

“Don’t open your eyes.”

“...Mhm, I’m having trouble keeping ‘em open.”

You placed the zippo in his hand and stepped back, “Okay, just feel it.”

He passed it between his hands, dragging his fingers over the cold metal until he popped it open, “a lighter?”

You nearly turned away when your nerves started bubbling and you’re thankful you didn’t, or else you would’ve missed his reaction. To this day, you’ve never seen him smile so wide or his eyes light up that bright at the sight of his initials and P4L ingrained in the silver.

He’s just JJ, one of your best friends in the entire world.

Deciding to take this opportunity before it slips away, you nod and his lips meet yours. He starts with little pecks, soft and sweet like cotton candy, and they slowly drag into short kisses. Putting a bit of intensity behind it, his tongue swipes along your bottom lip, but you don’t get the hint until he gently thumbs at your chin, just barely pulling your lips apart. He tastes like beer and a bit of weed, and his lips are softer than they look.

He’s slow and steady, letting you get used to the feel of him. You exhale in his mouth and shyly follow his lead, hoping he can’t hear your heart hammering in your chest. You don’t know if it’s the sweet rush of his lips against yours, or if this is how it feels to kiss someone for the first time, but you feel like you’ll float away.

Before you know it, he pulls away and presses his forehead against yours.

“You can breathe while we kiss.” He chuckles, nudging your nose with his, “don’t want you passing out on me, sunshine.”

You realize how lightheaded you feel and gasp for air, subconsciously licking your lips to taste him again. In a daze, you breathe in and out, briefly wondering if it felt like this to kiss just anyone.

One of his hands slips behind your neck and the other falls to your thigh, warm and gentle. “Do you want to stop?”

You glance at your friends, still passed out on the floor and other couches, the movie playing dully in the background. “No?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“No.” You repeat, firmer this time. “I don’t want to stop. Pl-Please don’t stop.”

How could JJ deny you? Especially when you ask so dreamily with that glazed look in your eyes. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and touch you all over and be the first person to make you into a pretty mess, to feel you in a way no one else has before. He connects your lips again, taking the lead and slipping his tongue into your mouth.

The unmistakable wet noises cause tingles to course all over your body, from your toes to the tips of your fingers clasped in your lap. They only get stronger when he tilts your head to kiss you deeper.

“You can touch me too,” he murmurs, bringing your hand to the back of his neck. Your digits automatically curl in his blond hair, drawing a low groan from his throat.

That’s when you go completely dumb and totally thoughtless. All concerns fly out of your mind and join the bluebirds above your head. They’re playing a little song to the beat of your heart, hitting every note and putting you at ease like a lovesick lullaby. You almost assume that’s why you feel lightheaded again.

JJ leans back, his voice raspy, “you keep forgetting to breathe, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” you exhale heavily, the butterflies in your tummy going wild as he caresses your face. “I’m not good at this yet.”

His rough fingers drag down your cheekbones and trace your jaw, the pad of his thumb gently presses on your bottom lip, almost slipping inside your mouth. His eyes seem darker, the clear blue shaded in something you can’t name.

His lips trail to your jaw, the movie long forgotten, “It’s okay, we have lots of time to practice. I’m gonna teach you everything I know, sunshine.”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: ahhh I've always wanted to write a sweet fic like this, i'm so excited to dive into a new fandom 🥰🥰 i'm still a lil nervous, but i'm hoping for the best !! feel free to stop by my inbox and let me know what you think of this so far, or request blurbs/drabbles for this au !!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! this fic doesn't have an update schedule, but i'll add dates on the masterlist (linked here) if i have a date in mind. also, here's the 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 for this fic !!

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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behidethetrees · 1 year ago

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THE RIGHT SIDE OF MY NECK, STILL SMELLS LIKE YOU.

IN WHICH… having a job while dating a clingy rafe doesn’t exactly go hand in hand.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem! Pogue!Reader

Contents: NON-CANON!Rafe, Reader fixes cars, clingy and possessive! Rafe, brief Pope mention, Your friends are the pogues, This is set in the 2000s!!

THIS IS A REUPLOAD!!! my old blog was deleted so i have to reupload all my fics :( Anways enjoy!

Prequel Part 1

Rafe hates that you work.

You weren't meant to clean cars, You were meant to stay inside your Tannyhill house with Rafe, Always next to him, never out of his sight.

He hated the assholes you complained about for being rude to you. Rafe always argued or sometimes fought people who even looked at you wrong. Once he heard some old dude yell at you to hurry up, Later that night Rafe smashed his car with his golf club. He was big on respect especially when it came to you.

But there was nothing more that Rafe hated than the fact you worked with Guys alongside two other girls. It's not that he didn't trust you or thought you might cheat on him with them, He didn't trust them. You were beautiful, heaven sent in Rafe's eyes. Your guy friends were lucky to even be in your presence, Or they were even luckier Rafe didn't bash their heads open for being around you.

Sometimes Rafe would show up to your job for a bit when he wasn't playing golf or he missed you extra. You knew Rafe was very, very clingy, always touching you in some way, But today was extreme.

JULY, 2008.

“Rafe I'm gonna be late!” You tried to get Rafe off your back but he kept hugging you tighter.

“Do you have to have to go, why can't I come, why can't you just quit already?” Rafe whines. He'd never admit it out loud but he dreaded the times you went to work.

You start to waddle towards the front door. “If I let you come with me will you get off of me?” You question him.

Almost instantly Rafe steps away, looking at you surprised as you already walk outside, opening your car door. “Really? I can go?” He asks shocked.

“If you dont get in the car in 10 seconds I'm leaving you.” You stated, Not that you were going to leave him but you wanted him to hurry up. Rafe almost trips because of how fast he darted to your car. Rafe insisted he’d drive you, that wasnt up for discussion.

Rafe opens the car door for you when you two arrive at the Pogue bodyshop. He slips his arms around your waist as you walk, keeping you close to him, This was going to be a long day.

When you popped open the hood of your client's car, Rafe hugged you from behind, Kissing your neck gently as you worked. At first you didn't mind but it started becoming a lot. Anywhere you walked, Rafe followed. When you went to talk to anybody Rafe slung his arm around your neck while giving whoever the death stare, making sure they know you're his.

When you went on lunch break Rafe sat you in his lap, keeping you away from your friends. As you eat your sandwich, Occasionally letting Rafe have a bite, Your friend Pope comes up to you.

“Hey Y/N do you want my chips?” Pope offered, He always gave you his chips because he felt too guilty to tell his mom she wasnt getting the right kind.

“Yeah sure thanks Pope” You smiled at him, as you extended your arm to grab them, You felt Rafe's strong arm pull yours back down.

“Fuck off.” Rafe grits through his teeth, Staring at him tensely. Pope's expression fell and he quickly turned around to start speed walking to the other pogues.

“What the hell was that?” You flicked Rafe on the forehead.

“I dont like him, He's no good like the rest of those pogues.” Rafe states as he rubs the part of his forehead you flicked him on. Rafe didn't like your friends for many reasons, stupid reasons. Mostly because they're pogues, like you, which confused you.

“Im a pogue too Rafe.” You remind him as you cross your arms, You didn't understand the whole ‘Kooks vs. Pogues’ rivalry. You recall the first time you met JJ he went on a rant on how you should stay away from kooks and how they're the real trash.

“Not like them, you're different baby.” Rafe tried to clarify but he had already messed up. You stood up in front of him, still crossing your arms.

“Apologize to him or leave.” You tell him. “ You can't come to my work just to be mean to my friends and clients, And I can't work with you all up on me Rafe!” Rafe quickly stood up, He heard your tone and your voice slightly getting louder indicating you were getting annoyed with him. But luckily for Rafe, he knew how to get you to calm down.

“Hey, hey I'm sorry okay? Really I am, dont make me leave.” Rafe grabbed your hands to take them into his own. All it took was Rafe's sweet words and his dazzling eyes for you to give in to him. Your face softens as you look at him.

You sigh. “Please stop clinging to me when I'm working okay? I promise we can cuddle when we get home but I need to get this car done.” You tell him, He quickly nods.

“And I'm serious Rafe, apologize to Pope!” You playfully push his shoulder.

“Whatever you want baby.”

A/N: someone on my old blog wanted a prequel of how they met so i will do that soon <3.

Requests

Taglist: @nowitsmissing

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #obx3 #obx fic #rafe obx #obx x reader

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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

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Okay! Ik ur not talking request rn but I’ve had this thought for a lil bit but rafe w hs Teacher!reader, who he likes to visit during her lunch time aka study hall time, and the students adore him and like since it’s hs the girls like find his so attractive( bc mf is) 🤭

okay this request is SO self-indulgent for me bc i'm like a year out from becoming a hs teacher myself like AH that's the dream so i love you so so much for this whoever you are i could give you the biggest hug rn thank you so so much for this idea!!

study hall - r.c.

pairing: husband!rafe x teacher!reader

wc: 1.6k

tags/warnings: fluff and almost nothing else. rafe is a perfect boyfriend bc,, duh? also not very canon of him honestly.

requests currently closed but feel free to send stuff in! it just might take me a while to get around to it :)

nav/masterlists

"Okay that's the lecture, we've got about a minute before the bell here... does anyone have any questions?" You finish up your slides, checking the time briefly as you close up the powerpoint from your laptop and turn off the projector.

A couple of hands shoot up and you gaze over the class waiting briefly for anymore. "Okay, we'll do Max, and then Lacy. Fire off." You point to the two of them in order.

"Can we get an extension on the essay?" Max asks quickly and you laugh. "It's not due for another week! How can you be behind already?" Judging by the reaction of the rest of the class chattering off their agreement, you nod. "Okay, okay. Fine. Yes, you can hand it in on the Monday instead of Friday, but that is giving you two extra days so I won't be giving any more extensions. Got it?"

Collectively the class sighs in relief, a chorus of thank you's and chatter following. "Okay, Lacy, you had a question?" You interrupt everyone to ask, thinking maybe someone else might have the same question and want to hear the answer.

"Is Mr. Cameron coming to study hall today?" She asks, round cheeks flushed as the other girls in the class whip their heads towards you to listen.

"Okay." You laugh, sitting down in your chair content that you won't need to pull up any slides to revisit anything. "Thank you for reminding me, I do have study hall today so if anybody does have any serious questions about the lecture or the essay please hang around after the bell." You say, avoiding most of the question.

You hear the voice of almost every girl in the class speak up at once, all resulting in more or less the same question about whether or not your boyfriend would be coming again to eat with you like he usually does on Fridays.

He was very popular among the girls you taught, which doesn't surprise you. You'd be lying if you said your boyfriend wasn't ridiculously handsome, but it was sometimes a point of contention with the other faculty you worked with. They thought it was extremely unprofessional that he would come in just for the girls to ogle at- but strangely it wasn't a problem when they had their partners come in for lunch at the same time. You knew it wasn't your fault and you weren't doing anything wrong, but just a result of upset from them designating study hall for students and many girls would spend time in your class instead during the lunch hour.

Just then the bell rang, and many students began packing up to leave either to go to other classes for study or to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

"Alright! Don't forget the readings for next class, please, I may or may not be quizzing you on it just to make sure! Have a good day everyone!" You call out over the loud sounds of students filling the halls and talking.

You sigh with a smile and grab your water bottle, taking a sip to ease your dry throat after an hour of non-stop talking. You look up, humming in acknowledgement at the three girls leaning over your desk. "Question?" You ask, already knowing what they're after.

"Is Mr. Cameron coming?" Lacy's friend, Chloe asks and you smile, shrugging.

"Maybe, you'll have to stay for my study hall to find out."

"Come on just tell us!" Lacy groans, but before you can respond you're interrupted by a knock on your door frame.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I brought your lunch." You smile at your boyfriend standing at the door, lunch bag and coffee in hand.

"Hi." You chuckle, looking at the girls knowingly who already look like they're melting. You get up and greet him at the door, grabbing another chair to pull over to your desk for him to join you.

“Hi Mr. Cameron.” Lacy smiles, sitting down in the desk closest to yours and batting her lashes at him.

“Hi there.” Rafe says politely with an awkward smile, digging through the lunch bag he brought for you and handing you snacks out of it.

“Girls, go get your lunches, please.” You tell them, and they all somehow simultaneously roll their eyes.

“You just want us to leave so you can be alone with your boyfriend.” Chloe teases you and you laugh, shaking your head.

“No, I want you to go get your lunches so you can give your bodies the nutrients they need to learn. I’m not going to be held responsible for you girls missing meals.” You reply sincerely before taking a sip of your coffee. “And I promise, Mr. Cameron will still be here when you get back. Now, go.”

You gesture to the door and the girls sigh, getting up and filing out the door.

“You’re the only reason I ever have anyone in my study hall.” You giggle quietly once they’re gone. “There are no girls in study hall on Monday or Wednesday.”

“No way, Ms. Y/L/N is their favourite teacher, obviously.”

“Or my class is the hardest and my very hot boyfriend comes to eat with me during Friday study hall.”

“Your class is easy!” Rafe laughs, reaching up to brush away some hair that stuck to your cheek as you’re eating.

“You’ve never taken it, how would you know?”

“Well, if you were my teacher when I was in school… I’d be in here every day. “The boys don’t come on Fridays because they’re jealous of me…” He says smugly, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You blush as you playfully push him away, glancing towards the open door to make sure no students saw. “Yeah, you’d be in here because you’d need help with Shakespeare, and they do too.”

Rafe gasped in mock offense, then shakes his head. “That’s messed up. I’m offended.”

You shrug. “It’s tough stuff if you’ve never read it before.”

“We’re back!” You both look up at the door as Lacy and her friends make their way back in, lunches in hand this time. “Did you miss us?”

“Welcome back, ladies. Did you bring some homework with you?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Duh, Ms. Y/L/N. Who do you think we are?”

“I just wanted to make sure. Study hall is for studying, not chatting.”

They all get comfy in their seats around the desk across from yours, phones immediately out with no work to be seen.

“Hey, Mr. Cameron?” Chloe asks, leaning on her upturned palm as she grabs his attention and he hums in acknowledgement. “What’s your first name?”

“Rafe.” He answers, not thinking for a second that maybe it’s not allowed.

“That’s a great name. Like, really cool.” Lacy sighs, smiling at him.

“Why, thank you.” Rafe grins, nudging your shoulder. He eats this attention up every time, and it’s fun to joke about when you’re at home- but sometimes you think it’s bad for his ego.

“Can we call you Rafe?”

“If you want.” He shrugs.

“No, nope. He’s Mr. Cameron to you, sorry to disappoint.” You chuckle.

“But he said we can call him that!” Chloe whines, looking at you pleadingly.

“Sure, but the school board says otherwise. As long as we’re on school grounds you don’t even know his name, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” They agree, giggling to themselves. “It’ll be our secret. Scouts honour.”

“None of you are scouts!” You laugh.

The girls just look at each other and shrug.

By now other students have filtered in, and luckily with tests coming up in all your blocks, a lot of studying is actually happening and less harassing of your boyfriend.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers, leaning closer to you which draws the attention of the girls in the front row who are straining to listen. “Can we take the yacht out this weekend? Maybe go for dinner or something on the mainland?” He whispers, smiling at you hopefully.

“Yeah, that would be nice. We could make a weekend out of it, I don’t have much grading to do.” You agree quietly and he seems excited, smiling and patting your leg before returning to his book that he had just picked up off your desk to skim through while you ate.

Come Monday morning, you’re getting ready for the bell to ring to signal the start of the first block. Once your whiteboard is ready with the notes for the day, you smile to yourself in anticipation as you sip your coffee. The bell rings, and students are quick to make their way in and to their desks.

“Oh. My. God.” Lacy stops in her tracks at the door, holding her arms out in front of her friends on either side of her as she stares at the whiteboard, and then looks over to you. “You’re joking!” She almost screams, clapping excitedly and running up to your desk to examine your hand while all the other students look up to the board in confusion, hoping for some answers as to what Lacy and Chloe are squealing about.

On your board, you had changed your name in the corner to a short statement:

‘You can call me Mrs. Cameron’

taglist: @rafeoccasionally , @bookishbabyyy , @madelynie , @whore-4-drewstarkey , @slut4drudy , @winterrrnight , @totalswag , @sadfury , @fullfledgedemo , @rafemotherfuckingcameron , @urfaveluvr , @chenslucy , @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea , @tahliac11 , @saccharinesammie , @ietss , @maybankslover , @redhead1180 , @suzyheartsrafe , @wpdailyminimeta , @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly , @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron , @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles , @flonkertn , @whtvrrafe

#obx fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe obx #outer banks #obx #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #rafe headcanons #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe outer banks

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delicateflowerss · 2 years ago

Text

Don't Worry, Darling Masterlist (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, eventual NON-CON, violence, murder, blood, dark!Rafe, drugs, mentions of pregnancy/having kids, kook!reader, non-canon ages, more warnings on each chapter

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader

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jukeboxsweethearttt · 5 months ago

Note

Sugar daddy!Rafe being taken as a fool. Maybe he caught unrequited feelings, maybe he's just one of many, but the bottom line is, he's wrecked. Let that inferiority complex fester.

You’re Not The Only One

OlderSugarDaddy!Rafe x Fem!Reader

cw:pure angst this is also non canon to the sugar daddy rafe universe because I feel so bad for him because reader is a bitch.

(loosely based off You’re Not The Only One I Know by The Sundays)

based of @starfxkr SugarDaddy!Rafe as always !💋

Rafe Cameron had always been the king of the Outer Banks. Even now, years later, with a successful real estate empire under his belt, the scent of salt air and the hum of waves still felt like home. He was older, wiser, and richer a perfect catch. And he knew it.

That’s why when he first saw you, he knew he had to have you. You were stunning, effortlessly charming, and so much younger than him. The age gap didn’t bother him; it excited him. He thought he could offer you everything luxury, protection, and experiences you’d only dreamed of.

He started with grand gestures. A sleek car parked in your driveway, designer clothes draped over your shoulders, and trips to exotic destinations. Your friends envied you, whispered about you, but you basked in the attention.

But Rafe felt something deeper. As time went on, the gifts weren’t just about showing off his wealth. He found himself longing for your approval, your affection, your love. He was infatuated. He had always been the one in control, but now, he was at your mercy.

You, however, had other plans. Rafe was just one of many. His money was good, his company better, but your heart was elsewhere. You kept him at arm's length, just enough to keep the gifts flowing but never close enough to let him in.

He noticed the late-night texts you tried to hide, the way you’d disappear for hours without explanation. Rafe’s mind raced with jealousy and suspicion. He tried to confront you, but each time, you’d soothe his fears with a kiss, a promise, and a laugh that made him feel foolish for doubting you.

One night, the truth came crashing down. He found you at a bar, not alone as you had claimed, but with another man. Someone younger, someone who looked at you the way Rafe did. He watched from the shadows as you laughed, flirted, and touched this man with a tenderness Rafe had only dreamed of.

His heart shattered. He confronted you later, rage and heartbreak evident in his eyes. You didn’t deny it. You didn’t cry. Instead, you looked at him with pity.

“You’re a fool, Rafe,” you said softly. “I never promised you anything. You wanted to believe that I could love you the way you love me. But I can’t. I won’t.”

Rafe felt his world crumble. The confident, powerful man reduced to a broken, desperate lover. He had been taken for a fool, his inferiority complex festering into a wound that might never heal.

You walked away, leaving him in the dark. Rafe was wrecked, haunted by the realization that all the money in the world couldn’t buy the one thing he craved the most.

Your love.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron imagine

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katsu28 · 11 months ago

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"send ☕ along with a prompt from any one of the lists below and a character of your choosing, and i'll write you a one shot to satisfy your craving!"

☕: prompt 23 from list e for rafe!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

it pains me to paint my pogues in a not so great light but i will forever love protective rafe <3 thank you for requesting!

rafe cameron x reader, minimal swearing, 1.9k

“Look who it is! The Princess Kook, slummin’ it on our side of the island for once.”

Your grip tightened around the pack of beer you were holding at the voice coming from behind you, because you already knew who it was. There was only one person ballsy enough to speak so critically of you, and you were pretty damn sure he was standing right behind you.

Lo and behold there he was, flanked by a more bored looking John B.

JJ Maybank was and always had been on your case, though you suspected it had more to do with your family name than with you yourself—always spouting off about money and wealth and eating the rich. You understood where he was coming from, of course, but that didn’t mean it stopped being irritating.

It just seemed like he was always riding you about being some little rich girl with daddy’s money, not an actual person, with actual feelings. But after a while, you’d grown used to it. JJ was all bark and no bite.

“Hi, JJ.” You sighed, shifting your weight to one leg. You nodded at John B, who did the same back to you. “How’s it going?”

“Didn’t know our booze was good enough for Her Majesty’s taste.” JJ sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. You rolled your eyes at his dig. “Rafe know you’re over here?”

“He’s not my keeper.”

“What’re you even doing here, Y/N? They don’t got beer on Figure Eight?” John B sounded a little bit nicer, more tired than bitchy like his blond friend.

“Cheaper here.”

“Like you don’t have enough fuckin’ money.” JJ scoffed. John B jabbed a sharp elbow into his side, a sign for him to shut up.

“Look guys, I’m not looking for any trouble. I just wanna get some beer and go home, that’s it.”

“How ‘bout you leave the beer here and run back to your little princess castle instead?”

“You’re a real prick tonight, JJ. Something got your panties all up in a bunch?” You shouldn’t have snarked back, that you knew, but he was really getting on your nerves tonight. You weren’t sure why. His words usually just slid right off you.

JJ’s expression darkened and he scowled, brows furrowing. “Maybe ‘cause I just got fired from the Club this morning.”

“What, why?” You asked, surprised. It was a genuine question. JJ was a definite pain in your ass, maybe with an attitude problem but still a good employee.

“Oh, drop the clueless act. Pretty sure it was one of your stuck up friends who complained.”

“I’m sorry you got fired, JJ, I am, but I had nothing to do with it. And there’s nothing I can do about it either. I don’t have that kind of pull with anyone at the Club, neither does my family.”

You figured it would be better if you left now before JJ came up with another retort, or you'd likely be here trading snippy insults with each other all night, and you had better things to do with your time. There was some sympathy in you for him, but your statement was still true. There was nothing you could do for him, even if you wanted to. And besides, Rafe was waiting on you for a movie night.

Leaving the conversation and the beer you were supposed to get behind, you hurried back to your car. The quicker you got to Rafe’s place, the quicker you could forget about it.

Only a couple minutes into the drive, headlights flashed in your mirror. No big deal, probably just someone heading the same way as you. You were on the main road to the other side of the island, after all.

Then the car sped up a bit, coming dangerously close to your back bumper before retreating a sizable distance behind—once, twice. By the third time, you were starting to get a little pissed.

“What the fuck?” You muttered, squinting to get a better look at it. A big camper van, old from what you make out in the darkness, faded orange—oh fuck. You knew that van, John B’s old clunker of a car. And if you squinted a little harder, you could almost make out the same blond head of hair that was antagonizing you back at the store.

So JJ did have a little bite in him. You sure as hell weren’t going to stick around to find out.

Stepping on the gas a little harder, you took the long way back to the Figure 8, weaving through the backroads you’d known like the back of your hand since before you were able to drive. Back then, you’d done it on your bike, peals of laughter echoing through the overgrown fields of the Cut turned clean lines of pristinely cut lawns the closer you got to home, as Rafe chased after you on his own.

Still, the van followed you on your way. With every glance at it in the rearview mirror, you grew a little more worried.

JJ’s driving was erratic, like he was playing a game of cat and mouse with you. If he really wanted to hurt you, this would be the ideal place to do it. There was nothing but grass and weeds around here. Nobody would find you for hours, even days if he were to run you into a ditch or something.

That thought alone spurred you to drive even faster, driving and driving until you took one more look in the mirror to see that the van had stopped. You watched the headlights grow smaller in the distance, forcing yourself to keep driving until you got to safety—to Rafe.

You screeched to a stop in front of Rafe’s townhouse, barely giving a backwards glance to see if they were really gone before hurrying the rest of the way to the front door. Hands trembling, you balled them both into fists, raising one to knock as loudly as you could. You could barely hear the thud of your fist on the wood over your thundering heart.

The door opened in an instant, Rafe’s smiling face greeting you. It quickly faded when he took in your wide eyes, your hard breathing. He pulled you inside immediately, sliding the locks home behind you before gathering you into his arms. “What happened?”

You explained as quick as you could, but the adrenaline from the whole thing was starting to die down. Your previous thoughts were starting to seem silly at this point. JJ was a hothead, but you didn't think he’d go so far as to take out his anger on you. He was probably just trying to scare you, nothing more, nothing less.

Rafe, on the other hand, was livid.

“Did they hurt you?” He asked, voice dangerously low. His eyes searched you for any visible injuries, hands sliding over your body with the utmost care, a stark contrast to the storm creeping into his beautiful blue eyes. “I swear to god if those punks even laid a finger on you—”

“No, no, they didn’t hurt me, Rafe. I’m okay now, I promise. Just a little shaken up is all.” You assured him, stopping his search by lacing your fingers through his. He still looked unsure. “I’m fine, baby. Honest.”

Rafe’s brows furrowed long and hard, and you reached up, attempting to smooth out the deep wrinkle between them with your thumb.

You traced above one of them, trailing down over the skin under it before letting your palm settle against his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut for a split second as he leaned more into your touch. The wrinkle disappeared.

“Okay. But you’re not going home tonight. You’re gonna stay here, with me, and I’m gonna have a talk with my sister in the morning, okay?” He was calmer now, you could tell. The sharp edge to his voice was gone, his shoulders relaxed the more you stroked along his skin. You nodded, satisfied. “Can I make you something? Tea? A snack? I’ve got those cheese puffs you’re so obsessed with, though I don’t really see how good—”

“Rafe,” You chided, smiling warmly, “You don’t have to dote on me. I’m fine.”

“I know. My girl’s strong.” He murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to the soft skin of your palm. “Just had me worried for a bit, that’s all.”

You kissed him, short and sweet, before tugging him towards the living room. Your gaze landed on the snacks he’d laid out on the coffee table first, drifting to the heaps of blankets and pillows on the couch right after.

Everything was already set up perfectly, and with all that had happened in just the past hour, sent a warmth flooding through your body, a sense of safe and love and home that you only ever felt when you were with Rafe.

Rafe suddenly looked bashful, scratching the back of his neck with an embarrassed grin at the way you were looking at him. “What? I was excited to see you.”

“You saw me yesterday, Rafe.” You chided lightly, completely failing at a stern look in favor of something much fonder.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t miss you.”

“Rafe Cameron, are you going soft on me?” You hummed, settling onto the couch. Rafe threw himself down next to you with a nonchalant shrug, resting an idle hand on your knee when you threw your legs across his thighs, but the answer was a resounding yes.

Yes, he was soft for you. Yes, he loved you more than he loved anything and anyone in this world.

He knew it, you knew it, and that was what prompted him to speak his next words.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh oh.” You snickered, drawing a roll of his eyes with a lopsided smile.

“Hilarious. Anyways, um, what would—I mean, what’re your thoughts about maybe…moving in with me?”

“Here?” Maybe you sounded a bit more skeptical than you meant to, because Rafe quickly backtracked, sitting up straight.

“Doesn’t have to be here. We could get a new place, if you want.” He replied, shaking his head. “Top’s uncle works in real estate, I could probably get him to show us some places within the next couple of days—”

“No.”

Rafe’s expression crumpled. “No? No, as in no, you don’t want to live together?”

You amended your rather blunt statement with a hand placed over his. “No, as in no, I don’t want to get a new place. I wanna live here. With you.”

“You do?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Cameron, your place is way nicer than mine.” You teased. Clearly amused, he scoffed, giving your calf a playful pinch.

“That the only reason?”

“‘Course not. I’m also looking forward to that fancy shower head in your bathroom.”

Rafe snorted, pulling you close against him, pressing his forehead against yours. He looked a bit funny like this, nearly bug-eyed because of your close proximity, but you thought he’d never looked cuter. “And me?”

You peppered kisses to his cheeks, chin, nose, the corners of his mouth in lieu of an answer, loud and over dramatic and definitely obnoxious, but it made him laugh. Then you kissed him right where he wanted, firm and loving against his lips to say yes, always you, and he smiled.

Moving in with Rafe meant getting to hear your favorite laugh, see your favorite smile, every single day waking up next to him. You hoped you’d get to experience it for the rest of your life, starting now.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

#wooo she's back from the writing grave everybody cheer :D #kait's 2k!#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #non canon!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fluff

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moremaybank · 2 years ago

Text

EVERYTHING — r.c

pairing non canon!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary five moments in which rafe's heart clenches with love for you (based on the song "everything" by kehlani)

warnings hella fluff, soft!rafe, slight reference to sex but no smut or descriptive language, language (cussing), i think that's it

author’s note idk if anyone cares, but i'm really freaking proud of this

rafe masterlist ;; valentine’s event ‘23 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

i could blame it on the physical

i could blame it on your lips, your touch, your kiss

you know, real traditional

but your love’s too original

you are anything but conventional

baby, did you know that

from the moment we fell in, i knew we couldn’t fall back

knew i’d always crawl back, ooh

rafe had an exceedingly terrible day.

work was horrible, he got into an argument with ward, his food order was delivered to the wrong address across the island. nothing went his way or worked out in his favour.

when he got home, he practically ignored you, changing his clothes and giving you a swift and seemingly impersonal peck on the cheek before leaving and slamming the door behind him. he didn’t want to snap or take his anger out on you accidentally, so he hopped in the car and drove to the beach, hoping the fresh air, the waves crashing over the shore, and the breathtaking view would help clear his head.

of course, being you, you noticed something was obviously wrong with him. you also knew where his favourite thinking spot was.

you arrived at the beach, your eyes immediately finding rafe’s sitting figure closer to the shore. you made your way over to him, carrying your flip-flops so you could feel the soft, cool sand underneath your feet. rafe must have sensed that you were coming because he spoke the minute you reached him.

“how’d you know i was here?”

you plopped down next to him, “i know you, remember?”

he let out a soft chuckle, his eyes focused on the water before him.

“you wanna talk about it?”

rafe shook his head, “not really. honestly, it’s not even worth dwelling on. i just needed to take a breather, you know?” the wind blew one of his long strands into his eyes, and you were quick to smooth it away from his face, letting your fingers flow through his locks.

“yeah. i get it.”

his eyes found yours, and he was able to give you a small smile. you guys sat there for a while, watching the water come closer to you but never quite reaching as it retreated from the shore. as the wheels in your mind churned, an idea popped into your head. you stood up, shrugging off your sweater and pulling your leggings down your legs.

rafe looked at you like you were insane, “what the hell are you doing?”

“you deserve to have fun, and honestly, so do i. i’m going in there,” you spoke, motioning over to the water, “you coming?”

rafe couldn’t help the smile that formed, and he got up from his spot on the sand, stripping himself of his clothing. “hell yeah.”

you grinned, running off toward the water with rafe hot on your heels. he reached you, capturing you and throwing you over his shoulder as he ran you two into the cool water.

eventually, after play fighting and splashing each other with the water nonstop, you and rafe waded deeper into the water. he pulled you close, and you threw your arms around the back of his neck as your legs wrapped around his waist. you remained there, bodies swaying back and forth lightly due to the movement of the water as you embraced each other tightly. rafe moved his face closer to yours, his forehead leaning against yours as he closed his eyes.

“i love you,” he breathed.

“w—what?” you stammered, your heart pounding as you tried to register what he had just said.

“i love you, princess. you’re the only one who knows what i need without asking. you’re always there for me, and it means everything. i love you.”

you and rafe had never said 'i love you' before, not to each other. it wasn’t that neither of you felt it, because you’d both been feeling it for some time now, but you didn’t want to rush into it or scare each other away. but now that rafe had fessed up, your fear melted away, and all you felt was courage and bravery.

“i love you too."

‘cause, baby, it’s the everything for me

for me, for me

baby, it’s the everything for me

for me, oh, for me

‘cause, baby, it’s the everything, no tryin’

you be shinin’, my silver linin’

‘cause, baby, it’s the everything for me

for me, yeah, oh, for me

“baby, you almost ready? i don’t want to miss our reservation,” rafe called from the bottom of the stairs. he’d already been waiting for you downstairs for twenty minutes. he hated to rush you, but he was getting impatient.

“you can’t rush perfection, babe! five more minutes, i swear!”

“mhm,” he hummed — more to himself than you — while fidgeting with the rolex wrapped around his wrist.

rafe’s mind had wandered off as he waited for your arrival, but the minute you emerged onto the stairs, his attention was captured. his jaw went slack, eyes glued to your form as you hypnotized him.

your hair was perfect, your chosen hairstyle completed meticulously. your makeup enhanced your already stunning features in a way that mesmerized him. your dress hugged every single one of the curves that adorned your body, and the heels you wore accentuated your smooth, glowy legs. you smelled extra sweet today, no doubt bringing your favourite and most-luxurious perfume into play. the light from the chandelier reflected off your jewelry; the diamond necklace rafe had gifted you for your birthday, accompanied by the matching studded earrings and bracelet.

“okay, i’m ready,” you said. your brows furrowed when rafe didn’t answer since his eyes were still locked on you, and you waved your hand in his face in an attempt to grab his attention. “rafe?”

rafe dragged a hand over his face, still in shock, “you’re…perfect. i'm officially the luckiest man alive.”

“stop,” you said, tearing your gaze from his as your cheeks turned crimson.

“i’m serious. c’mere,” he said, pulling you into his arms. his index finger hooked under your chin, lifting your gaze to his again. “you’re beautiful, baby. you take my breath away every single day. you’re perfect, and i’m going to remind you of that any chance i get. now get your fine ass in the car,” he said, fingers tapping your butt.

you grinned, “whatever you say, mr. cameron.”

during the car ride, your turned to look at rafe, who was concentrated entirely on the road. the moonlight snuck in through the windshield, illuminating his striking features and making your heart clench. he truly was so gorgeous that it hurt.

you also couldn’t help but think about all the time and money he spent to make the night perfect for you. while you appreciated the effort (because he really was being so damn sweet), you also felt extremely guilty. did he think that you needed all of this? the extravagant date nights, expensive gifts and luxurious lifestyle?

“you know you don’t have to do all this, right?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence between you two.

“do what?” rafe questioned.

“buy me jewelry and take me to fancy-ass dinners. that’s not why i’m with you. i honestly would’ve been fine with staying home and devouring a ten-piece nugget meal from mcdonald’s.”

“baby—”

“hear me out. i’m with you because i love the man that you are. you’re so kind, and loyal, and you have a heart of gold that you dust off and put on display when you’re with me. you're strikingly handsome, and you make me the happiest girl in the world just by being near me. i need you to trust that.”

rafe couldn’t help the smile that rose onto his lips. you were so grateful and appreciative of everything he did for you, and it just made him want to spoil you to the ends of the earth even more. once again, he’d been completely immersed in the love he felt for you.

he reached over the middle console, his hand finding yours and interlocking your fingers together. he brought your clasped hands to his mouth and kissed yours, letting his lips linger. “i do trust that. but you’re a princess. my princess, and you deserve to be treated that way. so let me take your sexy ass out for a romantic dinner, and then when we get home, i’ll throw you on our bed and show you how much i love you in a completely different way. deal?”

for the second time tonight, rafe had turned you speechless and bright red in response to his words. you nodded, “can’t argue with that.”

“you’re right,” rafe smirked, “you can’t.”

love the way you teach me

love the way you listen

you know all my details

you so damn attentive

you got my attention, babe

can’t forget to mention, babe

i’ma keep you lifted

you so fuckin’ gifted

rafe was lying on his stomach atop your mattress as he watched you do your makeup at your vanity.

“you’re pretty,” he smiled.

you made eye contact with him in the reflection of your mirror, “flatterer.”

you had just completed your eye look and were now moving on to the rest of the steps for your face. you grabbed a big blush brush, swiping some colour back onto your cheeks. next, you picked up your highlighter, moving to grab the brush for it when rafe popped up beside you.

“what’s that?” rafe asked. “it’s sparkly.”

you laughed, “it’s called highlight. you put it on the high points of your face to accentuate them and make them pop.”

“can i put it on you?”

your chest filled with warmth as you looked at rafe’s hopeful expression. he genuinely looked eager to apply it on you, and it was the cutest thing ever. you smoothed your hand over his cheek, “of course, handsome.” you handed him the shimmery pressed powder and the brush you used to apply it.

“okay so you want to put it on my cheekbones, the bridge and tip of my nose, my cupid’s bow, and the inner corners of my eyes if you’re feeling fancy,” you instructed.

“got it,” rafe said, but he hesitated. “wait…what's a cupid’s bow?”

you let out a laugh, pointing to the spot directly above your top lip. “right here, babe.”

“ohhh,” he replied. he used the brush you’d handed him to pick up some product — quite a lot of product, one might add — and went straight for your face.

“woah, woah, woah. hold it, cameron,” you said, grabbing a gentle hold of his wrist. “you gotta tap the excess off, that way, there isn’t too much on my face.”

“like this?” rafe questioned, tapping the brush lightly against the product's packaging.

“exactly like that,” you encouraged. “now, you just have to swipe it over the places i told you with a gentle hand.”

rafe couldn’t deny the butterflies swarming around in his stomach while you tried to teach him. he appreciated how patient and understanding you were with him. you were always so gentle with him, and it was different from how everyone else treated him. they were never calm or even-tempered, but instead, quick to frustration. you, however, were different.

he crouched down, coming face to face with you as he raised the brush to the high points of your cheeks. his tongue poked out between his lips, and his brows pulled together as he concentrated. he dusted the highlight down the bridge of your nose next and then paid extra attention to the tip of it. he left the cupid’s bow for last, eyes squinting as he placed the shimmer with care. his eyes flickered to yours, noticing the way you were staring at him.

“what is it?”

you shrugged with a smile, “you just look really cute when you’re all determined.”

you watched the blush rise to rafe’s cheeks as he tore away his gaze from you. “baby,” he whined.

“what? you are,” you smiled, leaning in and kissing the tip of his nose. “you’re freakin’ adorable.”

“so are you.”

and how many girls out in the world can say that they had it?

and how many bitches that became your misses can maintain the status?

that was before me, it’s childish, you done with your wilin’

now you can be wild with me, run that mile with me

catch some flights out with me, oh

i match your energy, match your fly perfectly

lips lock intensively, want you extensively

i know you was made for me, think you was made with me

shit feel like destiny

you’d asked rafe to come with you to watch a meteor shower on the mainland. rafe would never dare deny any of your wishes, so he obliged.

the two of you made a day of it, dressing up all cute and going out for dinner. you enjoyed a walk in a local park, watching the sunset unfold as you two strolled hand in hand. after that, you’d gotten some ice cream, unable to help yourself from stealing a bite of rafe’s. then, you’d driven to the lookout point where you could watch the meteor shower from the perfect view.

rafe could feel the excitement radiating off of you all day long as you spoke about how beautiful it would be. your eyes glimmered, a massive smile on your face as you chatted on, and all rafe could think about was how special you were. he was so lucky to be there that day, spending time with the most angelic and magnificent girl on the planet. you’d captured his heart, and he knew you’d never let it go.

“think about how cool it’s going to look, babe. this is like, witnessing god up close or something,” you yammered eagerly.

rafe looked down at you, your gaze focused on the sky as you stood next to him, leaning on the hood of his car. “you’re so perfect. how’d the universe come up with you, huh?”

“what are you talking about?” you questioned, now quiet as a mouse.

“you’re just so lovable. everything about you makes me fucking weak. like how you stop and play with every dog you see when we’re walking together, the way you quirk your eyebrow when you’re confused but don’t want to ask for help, how you fidget with your rings when you’re nervous,” rafe listed, gazing into your eyes with love.

“geez, you make me sound like a freak,” you joked.

“well, you are kinda freaky. you did just ask me to take you in the backseat of my car before we came out here,” he teased, poking your side.

“rafe. oh my god,” you scolded, smacking his chest but blushing as you did so.

he chuckled, “i’m kidding. i’m just saying that there’s so much to adore about you. like the look in your eyes when i told you i loved you that day on the beach. the way you bring me soup and kiss me when i’m sick, even though you know you’ll end up catching whatever it is that i have. you’re always so kind to me and my family and friends, and you treat them like your own. you’re different from any girl i’ve ever been with. i can actually see myself living a happy, joy-filled life with you. because of you. i’m just so fucking grateful for you.”

you turned to him, your arms wrapping around his torso as you looked up at him. “i’m grateful for you too, my love. you’re so special to me, truly.”

his hands held your face, and he pulled you in for a kiss. it was slow and sweet. gentle but still firm enough to convey his love for you through. his lips lingered before he pulled away, “promise me you’ll stay with me for a while?”

“i’d stay with you forever if you asked, cameron.”

‘cause, baby, it’s the everything for me

for me, yeah, oh, for me

this is such a different thing for me

for me, yeah, oh, for me

baby, it’s the everything, no tryin’

you be shinin’, my silver linin’

‘case, baby, it’s the everything for me

oh, for me

everything, everything, everything

rafe tossed and turned in his sleep, hardly being able to remain so. he could hear the gusts of wind outside, and the sounds of cars driving past his house on the street. he could see the moonlight peaking in from the blinds of his bedroom window and shining right into his eyes. he huffed in frustration, trying to sink into the bed and get comfortable. from your place beside him, you shifted in your sleep, smushing your face further into the fluffy pillow.

deciding he didn’t want to wake you up, he carefully got out of bed and headed down to the kitchen. he got himself a glass of water, the cool liquid quelling the dryness in his throat. he stood there, sweatpants hung low on his hips as they pressed against the cold marble counter. he stared out the window as his mind wandered.

rafe was lost in his train of thought when you arrived in the kitchen, sleepily rubbing the tired out of your eyes as you walked over to him. you gained his attention when you wrapped your arms around his midsection and leaned your forehead between his bare shoulder blades.

“what’s wrong, handsome? can’t sleep?”

“yeah,” he nodded, “didn’t wanna wake you with all my movement. plus, i was thirsty.”

you moved to his side, keeping one arm wrapped around him, “anything i can do to help? maybe we could watch a movie? or we could go for a late-night drive to get some slurpees?”

“aren’t you tired?”

you shook your head, “‘m never too tired for you. can’t sleep without you either.”

“get dressed,” he smiled.

after the two of you had happily made your way to the gas station for your slurpees, you sat in an empty parking lot, just enjoying each other’s company and consuming the bags of candy that neither of you could deny buying. music played softly in the background as you and rafe spoke about anything and everything. you’d laughed, reminisced about your favourite memories of one another, and shared secrets that had never been spilled up until that point.

“i can’t believe you never told me you used to do gymnastics. what else have you been holding out on me, baby?”

“nothing,” you laughed. “there’s gotta be pictures of me in my getup somewhere. i’ll ask my mom the next time i talk to her.”

“i bet you looked adorable.”

“i looked bald. my hair was so slicked back, i’m surprised i still have hair to this day.”

rafe laughed, “you’re ridiculous.”

“you love it, cameron,” you winked.

the laughter died down after a while, the two of you sitting there in peaceful silence. you’d ended up joining hands, with you playing with rafe’s large fingers. you traced the lines of his palm with a light touch from your index finger, and your touch was so gentle that it tickled him. goosebumps erupted all over his skin at your contact, an effect you had on him that never seemed to go away.

“how is it that you always know what i need?” rafe asked, looking down at both of your hands in your lap.

“how many times do i have to tell you, baby? i know you.”

“you do, and i love you so much for it. you mean everything to me, you know that?”

you turned to face him, surging forward slowly and planting a kiss on his lips. he sighed into it in contentment, one hand coming up to cradle your face.

“you’re everything to me too.”

rafe tag list (join here!): @rafesmuse @rafesdior @maybankslover @adr1an4 @penny4yourthoughts @rafelover @wotfasked @softsatnin @obxjjpouge @outerbankspov @skydisneylover @elijahssuit @kenzi-woycehoski @alexxavicry @kanib45 @princessbetsy123-blog @dudenhaaa27 @houseofperfecttaste @goldenroutledge @nerd505 @stcrkeyluvr @p4nkowrld @jsrafesgirl @demiioxox

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witchwyfe · 10 months ago

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karma is my boyfriend - rc

pairing - (non-canon) Rafe Cameron x female reader

précis - a lil princess treatment from rafe :)

content/warnings - mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption, fluff,

word count - 673

"Rafe, Rafe!?" You're spinning around, looking for your boyfriend until suddenly you whirl around and bump into a broad chest.

"Hey!" You gasp, until you look up and see his face. "Oh! Hi baby!" You coo, reaching up to cup his cheeks.

"Hi sweet girl." He smiles, running his thumb along your cheekbone.

You greet him happily, leaning in to his touch. "Did you get my drink?" You wonder, suddenly remembering why he left you in the first place.

"Hmm, sure did." He nods, handing you an ice water rather than the vodka redbull you'd requested.

You don't seem to notice though, slipping the paper straw into your mouth and slurping it down happily.

"We gonna dance s'more?" You wonder, straw between your lips.

"We can't, baby," He says, smoothing a hand down the back of your head. "They're closing."

"Nooo!" You groan, throwing your head back.

"I know, I know," He soothes. "But we can go home and get some snacks and watch a show...?" He offers.

"Okay!" You're smiling once again, digging your fingers into his tee shirt.

"Finish your drink and we'll go home, kay?"

You nod, bypassing the straw and tipping the rest of the water into your mouth, before handing your empty glass to Rafe.

You're not even that drunk, really just a little past tipsy but you're fine with letting Rafe handle everything and take care of you.

Suddenly his jacket is being draped over your shoulders, coupled with a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"Thank you." You simper. You slide your arms into the sleeves and blink up at your boyfriend.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

You lead him out of the bar, arms shoved into the pockets of his jacket, while he has your little purse slung over his shoulder, your phone, his phone, and the keys all in one hand.

"How much farther?" You ask a few moments later, looking back at him.

"Not too much," He frowns looking out at the street. When the two of you arrived at the club, hours before, he'd had to park his car somewhat far due to the lack of space. "Your feet hurting, baby?"

You shrug a shoulder. "Yeah." You nod. "But it's just till the car then I'll take my shoes off."

"C'mere," He says, shoving both of your phones into his pocket.

"What?" You wonder, turning to give him a coy smile.

Your sweet boyfriend kneels down on the dirty sidewalk, taking your ankle into his hands so he can unbuckle your heel. You're flustered beyond words, heat rising on your cheeks while Rafe's rough palm softly works your foot out of your strappy shoe.

"Stand on my foot babe, so I can take your other shoe off." He says, running his hand up your calf.

Once both of your heels are dangling from his hand, he scoops you into his arms, bridal style.

"Are you sure, Rafe?" You wonder softly. "I feel bad, you don't--"

"You have nothing to feel bad about." He assures, lips at your temple. "Just let me take you to the car, okay gorgeous?"

"Okay." You hum happily, relaxing in his hold.

Your arms are sling around your neck and you have easy access to his neck if you strain a little--and you do--at least five times on the way to the car, so you can kiss his neck.

He pretends like he's not flustered by it, but you can see the rosy glow of his cheeks from the street lamps, the harsh light making him appear ethereal and you have to shut your eyes for a second to remember he's real.

You’re still in a fond trance when he uses one hand to open the car door and gently deposit you into the passenger seat. He buckles your seatbelt and tugs on it, before pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Love you,” You croon, leaning back against the seat to look at him.

“Love you so much more.” He promises. “C’mere angel, gimme a kiss.”

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe #witchwyfe writing #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron fluff #outer banks fanfiction #cw alchohol mention

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cherienymphe · 1 year ago

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Teenage Dirtbag Masterlist (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

summary: You're charmingly spoiled. You're too kind for your own good. You're the princess of Figure 8 ...and you're way out of JJ Maybank's league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron's pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he's determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

➥ Prequel

➥ Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

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#jj maybank #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #obx imagine #outer banks

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guttergirlcore · 1 year ago

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East Coast Baby III (JJ Maybank x reader)

WARNINGS // NON-CON, DUB-CON, violence, possessive behavior, stalking, mentions of alcohol and drug use, jealousy, manipulation, toxicity, gaslighting, non-canon ages, pogue!reader, she/her reader, mentions of familial trauma, Luke jump-scare, angst, bit of smut at the end

MINORS DNI --> READ RESPONSIBLY

Synopsis // Running from a trauma-addled past, you arrive in OBX to find some peace. Shortly after, a series of strange events ensue, drawing your circle smaller and smaller, eventually driving you into the arms of one JJ Maybank. What you hadn't realized, however, is how difficult it would be to escape the one person you never thought you'd have to run from.

divider by @firefly-graphics

Word count: 2.5k

You were starting to settle into the Pogue life.

Gathered outside The Chateau, Pope swung lazily in the hammock, Kie sat cross-legged on an overturned bucket, and you and JJ sat on a long, wide log, legs pressed together at your close proximity.

You had been hanging with the Pogues for a solid week now, though you all saw increasingly less and less of John B.- a fact that set Kiara on edge.

“You do realize he’s hanging out with that bitch, Sarah Cameron, right?” Kie said to the group, aggravated.

You were familiar enough with the island at this point to recognize the name. Sarah Cameron: Rafe’s sister and daughter to the Kook King, Ward Cameron. You remembered seeing her standing next to Topper that night at The Boneyard, though the two of you hadn’t had any interaction.

“Well, John B. is working for her father- so yeah, she’s gonna be around him, Kie,” Pope said, exasperated.

“You don’t get it, okay? This is, like, the beginning of the end. He’s gonna start hanging out with her and not us. Soon it’ll be all Sarah, no Pogues. What happened to P4L? I mean, am I the only one concerned about this shit?” She stared pointedly at the rest of your group.

“Uh, yeah”

“Yup.” Pope and JJ replied in quick succession.

Kie threw up her hands and stalked off inside John B.’s unlocked house. Pope shot you and JJ an apologetic look as he chased her inside, leaving the two of you alone.

JJ moved his hand over to your knee and you jumped slightly and the unexpected touch.

“What? It’s okay to touch you, right?” JJ asked, smirking.

You noticed how touchy JJ had become since the morning you woke up entangled in his arms after the party at the Boneyard. That morning, you quietly slipped out of his grasp and walked home before you had to endure the usual awkwardness that would be sure to follow if he were awake, but JJ hadn’t mentioned it since.

That was several days ago, however, and you were slowly becoming more accustomed to his penchant for physical contact. You dared say you even liked it.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you smiled back at him, placing your hand atop his. JJ’s skin glowed a warm amber in the afternoon light.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you that you’re sort of formally invited to our secret surf spot,” he smiled. “’ Our’ as in the Pogues,” he further clarified.

“Oh, and when were you planning on telling me about this super sick top-secret spot?” you laughed lightheartedly.

“Well, we had a council meeting and decided to initiate you... seeing as we’re kind of together now-” JJ looked up at you, his normally cocky smirk dissolving into nervousness.

You were a bit surprised if you were being honest. It was definitely true that you had grown closer to JJ than the others in the past week, and the two of you already admitted your feelings freely. And you certainly didn’t forget the night after the Boneyard- but a gnawing feeling told you that this was moving too fast. Still, you liked JJ, right? What was the point in prolonging the inevitable? You and JJ were bound to get together, so what was the holdup?

“We are together, right?” JJ asked after a beat.

“I’d like that, yeah,” you admitted. JJ’s wide grin returned immediately.

“But I have to tell you something... and you’re really not gonna like it,” you said in your most serious tone.

“What is it?” JJ asked, the look of concern returning to his features.

“I don’t know how to surf.”

“Shit, I can teach you that,” JJ laughed, visibly relieved. “Challenged accepted.”

You laughed with him. “Game on.”

You, JJ, Pope, and Kie sat around talking until the light started to dim in the sky. John B. never made a reappearance, which was sure to stir up some shit tomorrow.

After a while, JJ dropped you off back home before heading to his. The whole ride there, he kept thinking about what you told him.

You’re together.

He was sure he was smiling like an absolute dork, but he couldn’t help it. You were his now, and you always would be if he had any say in it.

JJ thought back to the morning after the Boneyard party. You had slipped out of his grasp like smoke, gone before he even had the sense to wipe the sleep from his eyes. How had he been so deep in sleep that he didn’t notice you leave him?

Truly, it was all because of you anyway. He hadn’t slept like that in months- so soundlessly, so deeply. It was as if your near presence entranced him in a coma-like state. He hadn’t been able to sleep through the night since, constantly getting up and pacing the floors. When that grew tiresome, JJ found himself making the trek to your house on foot, mindful not to wake you with the sound of his motorbike. He’d make his way around the house to your window, hoping that the mere sight of you would soothe him enough to find some sleep, but he was always disappointed to find his view obstructed by the heavy curtains you pulled closed at night.

You were so cautious, so guarded. JJ wouldn’t let you be that way with him, though. He wouldn’t let you slip away ever again.

Just as JJ let his mind travel to darker, perverse thoughts of you, he pulled into his yard and saw the dark lump of someone passed out on the porch sofa. Luke.

Careful not to wake him, JJ turned off his bike and dismounted as quietly as possible. His boots softly crunched on the ground. As he made it to the front of the house, the three steps creaked under his weight. He silently cursed to himself, but Luke was still dead to the world on the sofa.

If only that were really the case, JJ thought.

He was almost to the door when his foot came crashing down onto a discarded beer can. The aluminum crunched and popped, startling Luke out of sleep.

In seconds, Luke was up, grabbing at the collar of JJ’s t-shirt.

“Who told you to wake me, boy?” Luke screamed, spit flying from his alcohol-scented mouth. “You have any idea how long I’ve been working? I don’t deserve a minute of fucking sleep, huh?”

JJ pushed him back and he stumbled, his balance unsteady from his beverage of choice.

Usually, JJ would ignore Luke. Let him have his tantrums and then get the hell out of dodge. But here he was, yelling at JJ about interrupting his moment of peace- did Luke ever worry about what he was interrupting? JJ should be the one pissed at Luke for interrupting his thoughts of you- the only thing that gave him any peace these days.

“You don’t work,” JJ spat bitterly. “Moving drugs for some third-grade dropout for four dollars an hour doesn’t count.”

“You little shit-” Luke jumped back at JJ, fisting his shirt and throwing him against the house. He threw punch after punch until JJ’s knees buckled and he doubled-over onto the wooden floor of the porch.

One thought persisted in his mind as Luke’s steel-toed boots met his stomach: he needed to find you.

A repetitive tapping noise sounded at your window, and you jumped when you noticed JJ’s face looming in the darkness behind the curtains.

You crossed the room, pulling open the window pane. JJ wasted no time climbing in like he’d been doing it all his life.

“I had to see you,” he said a little shakily.

You examined his expression a bit closer at the waver in his usually strong, confident voice. His eyes were a little glossed-over and shifty, his eyebrows drawn together, hard lines appearing between them. Was he drunk? High, maybe? You had only just separated for the night an hour or two ago, but you knew he liked to partake in both from time to time, so you wondered.

No, you thought. You knew this look. It was one you’d seen appear on your own face for too long. It was fear in its purest form.

“JJ, what’s wrong?” you asked, concerned now. JJ was always so sure of himself. You thought just about nothing could rattle him.

He said nothing, only pulling you into a near-bone-crushing hug. Your body relaxed into his, allowing him to be soothed by your presence.

“I just really had to be near you,” JJ whispered into your shoulder, his head nestled there.

He was really worrying you now, but you knew better than to pry. You rubbed circles on his back until he picked his head up, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I want to kiss you,” he breathed, hardly audible. His soft pink lips were mere inches from yours.

You took a sharp intake of breath. “Then do it.”

That was all the permission JJ needed. His lips met yours in a heated kiss, his hands finding your waist and squeezing tightly as if he would never let you go. Both of you were out of breath when you finally pulled apart, JJ’s hands never leaving your body.

“Some kiss,” you chuckled lightly, head buzzing from his nearness. He crushed you to his body in another hug and you slipped your hands up the back of his shirt, craving his warmth. When your hands met wetness, you pulled back. Crimson red stained the tips of one hand.

“JJ, what the fuck?” You stepped back and lifted the hem of his shirt, revealing the lower purple and black bruises dotting his abdomen. There were a few shallow cuts present along his torso- the source of the blood. “Take this off,” you demanded.

JJ obliged, allowing you to gently ease him out of his shirt. You stifled the horrible combination of a sob and gasp in your throat.

Your fingers reached out, ghosting over the wounds at his sides, your eyes meeting his in a question you weren’t sure you wanted the answer to.

“Um, so my dad’s back...” JJ cast his gaze down to the floor, hand wrapping loosely around your lifted wrist.

“JJ, what the fuck,” you repeated, angrily this time. “You should have told me,” you shook loose from him, stalking off to the bathroom to grab the first aid supplies.

“I did tell you,” JJ started as you reentered your room.

“You told me your dad drinks too much, not that he hits you,” you emphasized.

“It doesn’t matter. You couldn’t have done anything anyway.”

“I wouldn’t have let you go back to him,” you stared at him incredulously. “And you aren’t going back to him tonight. You’re staying here, with me.”

JJ’s blue eyes met yours, unshed tears welling there. You grasped his arms, guiding him down into the soft chair in the corner of your room. You plopped down on the floor in front of him, soaking cotton in an antiseptic spray. You dabbed at some of the nastier cuts and JJ winced.

“Sorry J,” you said apologetically.

“No, it’s fine. It feels nice, really. You’re a lot gentler than my old man,” he laughed, though now it was your turn to wince.

How could JJ’s dad do this to him? JJ looked like a sad, beaten puppy in your armchair, vulnerable and exposed. How could he do this?

Of course, you knew very well how he could. It was the same way your father could.

Before you could be entirely swallowed by the dark memories threatening to pull you back, JJ spoke again.

“You’re good at this. At taking care of people, I mean.”

You smiled at him sadly. “I’ve had practice. You’re not the only one with shitty parents.”

A look of recognition and then horror crossed JJ’s face. How had he not guessed it? It was all there. There in the way you jumped at loud noises. There in the way you tried your damnedest to isolate yourself from everyone entirely. It was why you were so gentle with him. Because you knew what it was to have to be tough.

Even though he wanted to give you time to open up to him on your own, he had to know now.

“Tell me.” He demanded, almost angry sounding.

“Not much more to tell than what you’ve probably guessed. My dad likes to hit. Things, walls, people.” you shrugged. “I used to take care of my mom like this when they got into it,” you said as you gently rubbed cream into the darker bruises.

JJ was silent for several seconds, just staring into your face. Was it pity he was feeling towards you? He was in a similar situation now, and you figured he’d understand, but maybe not. You briefly questioned if you should have told him anything at all.

Just as your face was growing hot from a nagging feeling of shame, JJ spoke in a deep tone.

“Come here,” he instructed, taking your hand and pulling you onto his lap.

Straddling him, he placed his hands on both sides of your face as you leaned into a deep kiss. He pulled back after a long moment.

“No one is ever going to touch you like that again. Not while I’m here,” he said, gravely serious.

You wanted to believe him, but as JJ’s shirtless, battered torso lay beneath you, you understood the utter helplessness of both of your situations.

Still, your eyes misted with unexpected tears. No one had cared so fiercely for you before. It felt nice if you were honest.

Before you could respond, JJ’s lips were back on yours, kissing you with a newfound hunger. One of his hands traveled down to your throat while the other cupped the underside of your ass. Soon his kisses were trailing a blazing hot path down your neck and chest.

“JJ, wait...” you gasped, breathless by the sudden pace.

JJ instantly pulled back, concern building in his eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

You thought for a moment. “No,” you breathed before your mind could catch up to your mouth.

“Good,” he grunted out. JJ’s lips resumed their spot on your neck while his hands went to the hem of your shirt, pulling up and over your head so that you were both bare from the waist up.

His mouth instantly attached to your erect nipple, swirling his tongue along the mound. You tossed your head back- the warm, wet confines of his mouth sucking your sensitive skin in just the right way to elicit a moan from your lips.

He shifted his hips up and you gasped at the hard bulge pressed against your core. You instinctively ground down on him, pulling a strangled moan from his throat.

He stood abruptly with you in his arms, your legs instantly wrapping around his hips.

“I need you right now,” JJ panted into your mouth, your hands tangling in his soft hair.

“You have me,” you whispered in response.

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