#obx fanfiction

[tinythebunni]

15 minutes!! Rafe Cameron

Rafe has barely been outside the door 2 seconds before it’s swinging open and he’s being yanked inside. he takes a glance at whatever hulk just pulled him inside and realizes it’s you. he almost wants to yell at you for opening the door in your tiny ass tank top and lace boy shorts, but he doesn’t. only reason why? you’re already on your knees, salivating at the sight of his bulge.

you palm him through his pants and when he reaches to pull you up for a kiss you shove him back with such force it scares him for a second. he doesn’t get a chance to think about it though. your nimble hands are already pulling his work pants down to his ankles. Rafe’s mouth is wide, pupils blown and head all fuzzy. it’s like you’re a completely different person.

you suck his tip through his boxers. lapping at the shaft and sucking what precum you can through the cloth. it’s a sticky situation but it makes it more fun for you. you’re not just teasing him, but also yourself. he sees a hand between your legs and knows you’re getting off to this. the realization makes his head fall back against the door, your moans vibrating against his aching cock.

he probably looks like an idiot with the way he’s shuffling his boxers down his legs like a little teenage boy. he doesn’t care tho, he just wants you to suck him off and see the tears fall from your eyes as you try and fight off your gag reflex so you can take him as much as possible.

when you finally take him into your mouth it’s like Rafe is having his first blowie all over again. he’s trying so hard not to cum already but it’s so hard with how warm your mouth is. it’s so wet and it’s so disgusting and oh my god you’re humming around his tip, it feels so good. he looks down to try and beg you to give him a second but when he makes eye contact with you you’re eyes are glimmering and that eyebrow of yours raises in question. he’s moaning now, loud and sinful. he can’t even keep quiet how good you’re making him feel and he’s hoping, no PRAYING, that you have all the windows closed. his hand claps against his mouth in an attempt to keep himself quiet but you shake your head at that, slapping his thigh in disappointment.

your tongue is twitching against the bottom half of his cock when you stay there for a second, before pulling up with vigor and swirling your tongue around the tip. you repeat this a few times, noticing how each time Rafe’s legs shake a little more. when he’s getting closer to cumming you think about your end goal, the reason you did all this and it’s egging you on.

what makes rafe tip over the edge is how you take your mouth off his cock with a pop, and he’s almost ready to cry because he was so fucking close. he doesn’t even get a chance to whine though, your hand already stroking him and your mouth lapping at his balls and sucking and pulling on them. it’s so good and it’s so much and he can’t take it. he’s moaning all over the place, chest flushed and sweaty, head reeling all over the place. he can’t even think straight without you making his legs jelly and his mouth slot open.

he doesn’t notice how you keep looking at the watch on his wrist until he’s finally pushing your head down on the last thrust into your mouth, the one that sends him reeling and cumming down your throat. the warm liquid leaving u giddy and silly! you cum right after him, fingers still rubbing your clit in time with his orgasm and the thrusts from before. once you cum, you dip your fingers into your hole and get them nice and wet for him. Rafe watches as you stand up on slightly shaky legs and shove your fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he sucks all that flavor off your fingers and into his throat. he opens his eyes and sees your mouth in a pouty o, your cheeks flushed and panties soaked. when you finally remove your fingers he can catch his breath to ask “what was that for?”

“wanted to see if i could make u cum in 15 minutes or less!” and with that you bounce off to his room, looking back at him halfway up the stairs. a tease and an invitation.

‘oh hell yea’ Rafe thinks, following you, almost tripping over his pants that he forgot was around his ankles.

[zyafics]

GIRL UNDER THE MOONLIGHT | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Oneshot)

Pairing – Rafe x Mermaid!Female Reader

Summary — Rafe invites you out to the Druthers for a sunrise event with Sarah and his friends.

Word Count — 2.3K

Content — fluff, protective!Rafe, Sarah being a good sister (and considerate to you!), you being clingy and possessive of Rafe, and suggestive scenes. A continuum of this and this and this!

“She can’t be a mermaid,” Sarah announces unexpectedly.

Rafe stops what he’s doing to turn to his sister, “What?”

“I poured some water on her skin,” she diligently informs, leaning against the doorframe of his office, her arms crossed over her chest with this vindicated look. "Nothing happened. Therefore, she can’t be a mermaid.”

Rafe scoffs at Sarah’s hypothesis. “What did you do? Chuck it at her?”

“Who do you think I am?” She rolls her eyes. “I just dropped some water on her… accidentally. I even brought towels—just in case.”

“A scientist,” Rafe drawls sarcastically, returning to his work.

“Precisely.”

Rafe had nearly forgotten that little quirk about you. It’s been almost a month since your arrival, and while there have been some occasional odd moments, nothing has proved evident about your supposed mermaid abilities. Finally, Rafe tucked it in the back of his head as nothing more than a phrase—a figment of your imagination, your fantasy transcending into the natural world.

Nothing more.

“Why is this relevant?” Rafe asks stodgily, flipping through the account books of Cameron Development, his fingers trailing the edge of the sheets.

“Because now you can bring her to the sunrise trip,” Sarah declares.

It takes Rafe a second to remember what she’s referring to. A summertime tradition where Sarah and Rafe host their friends on the Druthers, taking it out to sea to stay a night and wake up before sunrise.

Sarah had tested whether you were truly a mermaid to make you a candidate for the journey.

Rafe scoffs, “So that’s what that little experiment is for,”

“I had to,” she smiles sweetly, “Didn’t want her to turn into a fish when we’re out at sea. It’ll ruin the fun.”

“My fun or yours?”

Sarah doesn’t answer, giving him a knowing wink, before departing from his office.

That night, Rafe asks you. He was getting ready for bed, turning off all the lights, before you patter your way into his doorway, shyly inviting yourself into his room. Rafe no longer is surprised by your arrival, and with a wave of a hand, he beckons you forward and you sink in his arms.

You’re always giddily, full of soul, and when Rafe has you in his arms, it amplifies. You detail him about your day—the time spent along the coastline of his estate, traveling barefoot along the empty roads, interacting with land critters. You’re always so fascinated by the mundane, the landscape and sights, but the way you go about it—it’s a soothing sound, full of bursting energy.

He can, and has, fallen asleep to it.

Knowing you’re in a good mood, Rafe decides to pop the question. He tells you about the trip, taking his yacht out, and watching the flaming palette of orange-blue light in the morning sky. He thinks you’ll enjoy it; after all, you’re a self-proclaimed mermaid with a fascination for all human derivatives.

But, for the first time, you say no.

“Why not?” Rafe asks as you lay on his chest, shaking your head at the invitation. Your nails are tracing the fabric of his shirt, drawing doodles in similar manners you would do at the bottom of the ocean floor.

“I don’t want to,” your voice is quiet and tiny as if you don’t like the idea of saying no to him.

“It’s just for one night,” Rafe assures. Perhaps you’ve gotten used to the stability of the Tannyhill estate.

You persist, declining the offer.

“It’ll be fun,” Rafe reasons, but there’s a bitterness in the way he’s pushing the topic. Truthfully, if you don’t attend, Rafe doesn’t have much incentive to join either. Yes, it’s been a long-standing tradition, but he wants to experience it with you. Ever since you entered into his life, he’s been feeling that way.

Yet, he knows he has to go. Sarah doesn’t know how to drive the Druthers, and she’s been looking forward to this all summer. Despite their bickering, he doesn’t want to let her down.

You shake your head quietly, slouching your shoulders inwards, making yourself small. It’s as if your body is physically recoiling at denying Rafe.

He doesn’t know what’s going on. You never do this. You’ve always been pliant, and obedient, agreeing to every little concoction he conspires. It’s one of the many things he adores about you; yet, for the first time, you’re being wayward.

“Are you afraid of the water?” Rafe asks gently, stroking the curve of your spine with his finger, in a way that makes you relax your muscles. He accidentally hooks it underneath the shirt—his shirt—drawing it up to expose your skin; soft, tender, and perfect.

Sarah had been right. Normally, you don’t like wearing clothes. Only when Rafe asks you to whenever you go out together, but preferably, you choose to remain as close to naked as possible. It’s too hot, you told him. You’ve gone years without clothes, and the actual barrier produces heat. The only exception, however, is if you get to wear his.

Again, you don’t answer. Your fingers coils around the loose fabric of his shirt, bundling it into a fist, as if you’re frightened by the suggestion. Rafe sees it—feels it—emulating from your body, and he stops for a second and relinquishes his touch.

“We’re just going to be on the boat. You don’t have to go into the water if you don’t want to,” Rafe reassures, hoping his words soothe something over you. He knows he’s been persistent, but he truly doesn’t want to leave you alone—not even for one night. “I’ll protect you.”

Normally, under that advisement, it would palliate all concerns; and would coaxe you into an affirmative yes. But you say nothing, and finally, with a tick of agitation pulsing through him, Rafe gently grabs your chin and lifts your tender gaze to his.

“Don’t you trust me?”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip; plumped, fresh, coasted with this perpetual wetness that makes Rafe burn with desire. And you nod your head, listening, but not actively responding.

His thumb traces your lower lip, pulling down the plumpness and forcing it to split apart. Your eyes meet Rafe with a tenderness, almost hunger, while your breathing slightly stills.

You still don’t answer him.

And this time, Rafe decides to let it go.

“If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.”

This should make you happy, for him to drop it, but the coated disappointment in his tone causes your stomach to twist. You don’t like upsetting him, don’t like the idea that you’re not meeting the standard and his needs.

“But you’ll still go?” You ask softly, gently, like an ocean breeze.

“I have to. Sarah doesn’t know how to drive,”

Your brows pinch, furrowing together. “Will there be other females there?”

“Yeah,” Rafe nods. “Some of Sarah’s girl friends.”

You purse your lips, eyes squinting. You don’t like that. You’re possessive about your mate. You understand Sarah’s his sister, and that company is natural, but with other women? Unrelated to him? It’s wrong.

You can’t stand it.

“Okay,” you murmur softly, conceding in a way that Rafe likes. “I’ll come.”

The next morning, everyone’s at the docks of the Tannyhill estate, loading onto the yacht. Sarah brought a variety of fruits and snacks, while Kelce and Topper helped her and her friends abroad. They climb up the slippery steps and enter into the cockpit, settling with their things.

You stay close to Rafe, timid among the new crowd.

Out at sea, everything is smooth sailing. Today’s a beautiful day, with steady waves, and it’s meant to last the entire week. Rafe parks the Druthers off the coast, where you can’t see Kildare anymore, save for a small coastal cove that’s within view. The boat gently bobs against the rolling tides, and the sounds of Sarah and her friends are screeching with enthusiasm as they take a swim around the yacht.

You watch from above the deck, your focus on the distance, staring at the island cove.

When Rafe slips out of the cockpit, his hand slides over your waist, snapping you out of your concentration. You lift your gaze to meet his, and the furrowed crease between your brows disappears, shoulders relaxing upon his touch.

Rafe offers you a rare, gentle smile. “You wanna swim?”

You shake your head, “Not with them.”

He likes the fact that you don’t entertain his friends, that you want him and only him. “You were waiting for me?”

You nod, leaning your head against his shoulders. “You looked busy,”

“You could’ve told me,” Rafe declares, “Better yet, you could’ve joined me.”

You huff softly, amused, as Rafe pulls you closer to his side. Again, he smells the scent of the sea—but it’s fragrance, exuding from you. His eyes drift to the direction you were looking at, “What's that?”

“Nothing,” you hum, but there’s a pang of longing. You tip your chin skyward to find his gaze once more. “Can we go inside now?”

A couple of hours later, Sarah’s right. Again. The whole crew is having dinner on the main deck, and someone accidentally spills a cup of water on your arm, but nothing happened. Rafe was ready to see something—a twinkle, a glow, or a glimmer—but it was absolute zilch. One of her friends who did it apologizes, and you chuckle softly, wiping it away with a towel, not a care in the world.

He truly doesn’t understand this mermaid business. He really doesn’t.

Maybe you’re someone who loves the sea so much, you claim it as part of your identity. You want to be closer to the ocean, to the marines, to the corals and the sea creatures that the title is merely an expression of self, rather than a true folktale.

You can’t be a mermaid, Rafe reasons, you don’t even have a tail.

Later, everyone shuffles off to their individual cabins. Rafe claimed the biggest one—because of course he did. When you step out of the small bathroom, in nothing but a large shirt of his, Rafe swallows thickly. Because most times, when you come into his room, it’s night, punctured with darkness saved for a glow of moonlight through his curtains.

Now, the cabin lights remain perpetually on, at low brightness, and it allows Rafe to see everything. He’s reminded of the tidbit from Sarah—how you hate panties—and his eyes drop to your thighs, where the shirt casually brushes mid-level, almost revealing more. His heart beats heavily, and you slowly climb onto the bed, wrapping yourself around him.

You fall asleep on his chest, as you normally do, and the weight is like a natural blanket to him. Something he knows, expects, and remembers. It tames all the raging emotions inside of him, silences all the busy thoughts, and hones in completely and only you.

During the duration of the night, while the yacht slowly rocks against the stronger currents, his hand falls on your back protectively.

Until it doesn’t.

Something doesn’t feel right; missing. His eyes slowly blink awake, drowsiness coating his features, while his eyes adjust to the low cabin lights. His hands weaved through thin air.

You’re gone.

With the door of the cabin wide open.

Consciousness strikes Rafe, and he jumps out of bed, rushing out of the cabin, and following the hallway lights to the deck. Slowly, with the rocking of the tides, Rafe climbs up the stairs, to the main deck, and finds you in the stark darkness.

Standing on the ledge.

You’re at the gap where the railing ends, allowing an opening to jump to the swim platform. You’re standing dangerously close to it, his shirt flapping against the wind, a loose hand wrapped on the safety handle.

Rafe calls your name, but you don’t turn around. He suspects you’re sleepwalking, entranced in a dream, that led you up here. Ocean calling you home, it’s evidence for his theory.

But you’re not a mermaid and you can’t survive that leap.

Cautiously, Rafe approaches you, slowly, tenderly, calling your name. He’s afraid of waking you, afraid of startling you from your dream and causing you to release and fall. With each step closer, he hears the thumping of his own heartbeat and the prize within reachable fingertips.

He’s almost there.

He’s so close.

Until you jump.

Rafe screams as he reaches the ledge, his eyes adjusting to the dark currents of the sea. Nothing is visible, not a stream of light underneath, except for the glowing reflection of the full moon bathing the dark waters.

He’s calling your name, again and again, trying to see if you’ll surface to the sound of his voice.

But nothing happens.

Rafe’s already taking off his shoes, taking off his shirt. He’s gearing up to jump in after, especially if you don’t surface within the next minute.

He’s praying. A godless man as himself, who doesn’t believe in a higher power, is begging for you to come up unscathed.

But he still sees nothing.

Until something cuts the waves, a sharp prodding sculpture that slices through the harsh currents.

A tail?

He isn’t sure if his eyes are deceiving him, especially with the drowsiness of his sleep, but he sees another cut in the ocean, this time paired with an iridescent color of a fin, scaly and glimmering.

He calls out your name once more, a little timid, a little frightened.

And you raise to the surface.

Attached to a long, kaleidoscopic tail, with skin full of scales, climbing up your shoulders and throat, you’re flipping through the water; your smile bright, eager, and real.

Rafe breathes out a sigh of disbelief.

“Holy shit,”

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[rafesangelita]

hi! idk if you’re doing req rn but when you can, can u write something where bambi!reader is showing rafe a cutsie video she found, and he’s just so nonchalant and js doesn’t give a damn lol. she’s kinda hurt, but he just overlooks it and instead bribes her to get sexual with him

warnings: mean!rafe, slight manipulation, teasing, flirty banter, groping, knee riding (lol idk if this is even a thing?), hand job (?), dirty talk, slight degradation, overstimulation, unprotected sex, rough sex, pull out method

a/n: this has been in my req’s foreverrrr anon i’m sorry!! i’ll be answering some more reqs soon <3

“aww, look at this!” you all but melted at the sight of two deers cuddling up to each other in a video on your phone, a pout gracing your lips as rafe completely ignored the illuminated screen in his face. “watch out,” he grumbled, nudging you away, “you clearly see me trying to do something.” you fell back against your pillows with a huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you tossed the device haphazardly where he was sitting.

he laughed bitterly, not sparing you a single glance as you got under the covers. “toss something else, ‘see what happens—” one of your plushies met the back of his head before he could finish getting his sentence out, the action making him pause what he was doing. rafe immediately knew that he hurt your feelings when you acted out like that. turning around, rafe rolled his eyes when he saw that you had your back turned to him. “i’ll call you back later, ‘top.”

you felt the bed dip behind you, the heat of rafe’s body finding your backside. “you gonna ignore me now?” rafe pulled you against him by your sleep shorts, his lips skimming the shell of your ear as he spoke. damn him. you were refraining from smiling when you felt his mouth on your neck. “you know it makes me sad when you do that..” you whispered, pretending to push him away before he pinned your wrists to your chest. “what? when i don’t want to watch your stupid videos?”

“they aren’t stupid!” you turned around in his hold, “i always watch the stuff you send me..” rafe inserted a knee between your thighs, your breath hitching in your throat when he pressed into your neediest parts. “yeah, i know,” his voice dropped, “i shouldn’t be so mean to you, huh?” you shook your head, your lips parting as rafe took your hand in his. “no..” your voice came out shaky once he brought your palm to his cock.

“if you make me feel good i’ll watch whatever dumb videos you want me to.” he whispered against your lips, a groan rumbling from his chest when he started guiding your hand to stroke him. he continued pressing into your cunt, your lashes fluttering closed at the sensation. rafe knew he had you right where he wanted you whenever your hips started moving on their own accord. “y-you promise?” you whimpered, already giving into his ministrations once he let go of the hand you had wrapped around his cock.

he kissed you, your cheeks heating once you felt the lewd touch of his tongue in your month. “mhmm,” he hummed, “but you gotta give me what i want first.” your hands came up to run over his bare chest, your nails digging into his skin as he removed the knee he had between your thighs. rolling on top of you, rafe was quick to rid you of your flimsy dollette top, tonguing his cheek at the sight of your tits. “fuck, bambi, you’re so pretty,” he groped your chest, his bruising grip making you gasp.

“might’ just fuck these tits next time you throw one of your stuffed animals at me.” your bottoms were next to go, the man above you wasting no time in cupping your soaked cunt. rafe forced your thighs open, pressing a large palm against your lower tummy as he took himself out of his boxers. “gonna use you like the fucking cocksleeve you are.” he swatted your hands away before thrusting into you, a surprised squeak escaping your lips before he thumbed at your clit.

instinctively, your thighs shut around his waist, the size difference between you two making your legs tremble. rafe was ruthless when he had you like this; under his mercy and pliant with everything he wanted to do to you. he fucked into you as if you were the one who owed him something instead of the other way around. you were hiccuping, struggling to take every inch of him while every thrust of his had you scooting further up onto your bed.

you didn’t bother protesting against him since each time it only made him go harder. feeling him kiss your cervix hurt so good, you couldn’t help but cry out in both pleasure and pain, your eyes screwing shut as you reveled in being filled to the hilt. “doing so fucking good,” he shuddered, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, “you could let go, baby.” rafe could tell by the way your eyebrows knitted together that your high was just in arms reach, your walls fluttering around his cock as you let out a sob against his chest.

clinging onto him for dear life, rafe shushed you as he continued rubbing hard circles into your clit until you had tears rolling down your cheeks. “no more, no more, no more—” you were tapping out against his forearm, your bottom lip pulled harshly between your teeth. rafe smiled, the look in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine. “hurts..” you whined, pushing against his toned stomach. “yeah? that’s the fucking point.” he grunted, picking up his pace before clamping a hand over your mouth.

you laid there helplessly, your heels digging into his back as he fucked you into overstimulation, your second orgasm hitting you harder than the first. rafe groaned as you squeezed him with a death grip, your back arching off of the sheets as he continued stroking that soft spot inside you that made you jolt out of your body. “can’t— i mean it rafe!” your boyfriend cursed under his breath, pulling out of you with a hiss as he continued stroking himself over your tummy.

holding his weight up with one hand, you watched with hazy vision as he finished, his hips stuttering as he painted your skin with hot ropes of his cum. by the time he cleaned you up and was whispering sweet nothings into your ear, you two were under the covers with heavy eyelids as he trailed kisses wherever he could.

so much for watching your ‘stupid’ videos when you two could barely stay awake..

[lanaslushworld]

A girl who just loves Rafe

im just a girl who loves frat rafe, nerd rafe, soft rafe, baby daddy rafe, husband rafe, toxic rafe, ex rafe, druggie rafe, needs a hug rafe, imprisoned rafe, season one rafe, season two rafe, season three rafe, season four rafe, i will love season five rafe, rafe, rafe cameron, kelce and toppers bestfriend rafe, golfer rafe, abusive rafe, sweetheart rafe, college rafe, ghostface rafe, serial killer rafe, rafe in season two with that sexy ass hat on when hiding from the police in the boat with barry, rafe in a grey north face jacket, enemy rafe, wards least favourite child, sarah and wheezies older brother, kook king rafe, highschool lovers rafe, rafe…. did i mention rafe cameron from obx?

[rafesbbdoll]

Can you do a rafe imagine where she’s a pogue but he’s always had a soft spot for her. He doesn’t fight or will stop a fight if she’s there and is always nice to her. She notices and decides to test the theory

soft spot . rafe cameron

wc . 1.3k

warnings: animal death, fluff, ruthie, NOT PROOFREAD

you were a pogue from the beginning, living on the cut, hanging out with your friends, and getting out of the stereotypical "kook type." you didn't have any issues with the kooks, only when they crossed your conversation with some bullshit ass excuse. but not even rafe, which was relieving based on his past but also confusing.

rafe hated your friend group, even more when sarah joined you guys. but rafe never once made a snarky comment towards you like he would kiara or sarah. he never argued with you. he never told you off. he was never mean to you.

it was a sunny day in kildare, right after a storm, the perfect surf day. everyone was on the beach; the kooks, the pogues, even the tourist visiting. you all arrived, hopping out of the twinkie, and setting up your spot on the beach. you were helping sarah set up the umbrella, thinking about tanning first. "it looks good but i want to get in a good tan before the sun goes down," you explained, laying your towel down, away from the umbrella. "honestly, true, but don't you want to enjoy the waves before they're gone?" sarah asked, grabbing her surf board from the van.

"trust me, i will, just after my tan," you said moving to lie down. just as you did, you and the rest of the group heard a loud truck rumble coming from the other side. it was the kooks. "couldn't they haven't picked a different spot?," kiara asked dryly, her face contorting in disgust.

about two hours in, everyone was in the water besides you and rafe. you were tanning on your side, while rafe was drinking his beer on the other. you were falling asleep under the sun, your eyes closing slowly. rafe looked over at your side, watching as you fell asleep. his eyes scanned what was surrounding you, making sure you wouldn't be bothered as you slept. a little bit later, the pogues came out of the water, laughing and chatting about the waves, unaware that you were still asleep.

rafe looked over at them approaching, standing up before yelling loud enough for them to hear. "hey! dickheads! she's asleep!" the group paused and looked at rafe in confusion. "why the hell does he care?," jj asked, throwing up a middle finger at rafe, to which he shrugged him off.

later on, you were fully awake, now in the water with the girls, waiting for a wave. "y/n?", sarah started. you looked over at her, waiting for her to continue. "yeah?"

"are you and my brother hooking up or something?", she asked. you blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what she just asked. "ew sarah, no. your brother hates me, just like he hates you guys," you said looking back out into the water. "i don't know, he just seemed concerned for you earlier when you were sleep. i guess we were 'loud' and he didn't want us to interrupt your sleep," she finished. you just shrugged, preparing for the approaching wave.

after the swimming and surfing, you all began packing up your belongings when you heard kiara exclaimed. "a turtle hatch! guys!"

you looked over, immediately dropping your things when you heard her, running to see. "oh my god! theyre so tiny," you said, looking down at the baby turtles. you all cleared a path for them, allowing them to travel safely with no issues. just then, you heard the rev of a truck engine coming from the kook direction, making your heart drop. “hey! there’s a hatch! go the other way!”, you yelled out in their direction. you couldn’t even imagine them to do something so cruel, but their actions just made you eat crow.

ruthie took toppers truck, almost hitting all of you as well as the baby turtles trying to cross. you all were left speechless, looking sadly as the turtles that were killed from their reckless actions, making tears form in your eyes. just then, you saw kiara stomp over to them, a deceased turtle in her hand. when you all followed her, you heard her arguing with ruthie, it getting heated quickly. you held a turtle in your hand as well, not dead but an injured limb. rafe looked over at you, watching you as you held the injured turtle in your hands, feeling sympathy for the animal and you.

after the altercation, you stayed on the beach, making sure that the turtles were safe. rafe along with the kooks were packing up also. “wasn’t fucking funny,” rafe said to ruthie. “what? rafe be serious. there are plenty of other turtles that exist,” she snickered, walking with topper to the truck. “top, control your bitch,” he said, taking another sip of his beer. “hey, watch your mouth, man. you’ve had too much to drink,” topper replied, getting in the truck before driving off. everyone left on the kook side, rafe being left alone with his beer. he looked over, seeing you still watching the turtles.

after the turtles got into the water safely, you stood up, beginning to walk away just before rafe ran up to you. you sniffled before looking over at him. “what? here to run over more turtles?,” you asked sarcastically, holding the injured turtle in your hands. you planned on fixing up the turtle before releasing it into the ocean. “hell no. don’t include me in that shit,” he replied, walking along side you. “let me help you, yeah?”, he proposed, pointing to the turtles in your hand. “i don’t like your friends, but that was fucked up.” you just nodded at his request. “yeah, sure. i was gonna clean it off and get it better before releasing it,” you said.

he led you to a nearby animal clinic, allowing the veterinarians to fix the turtle for you. you two were sitting in the waiting room patiently waiting. “why are you helping me anyway?,” you asked sarcastically “i thought you hated us.”

rafe looked over at you, taking a deep breath in before speaking, “i don’t hate you. just your friends.” hey, at least he was honest. you nodded, looking back at your fingers. your phone had died a while ago, so you were sitting in silence with him. it wasn’t awkward by any means, but it felt confusing too.

the veterinarian called you names, signaling that the turtle was all better. you smiled with joy. “thank you so much,” you smiled at the woman. she smiled back at you before you and rafe left. rafe watched your interaction with the woman, smiling to himself as your kindness. you and rafe had headed back to the beach, releasing the turtle back in the water, watching as it crawled towards its home.

rafe ended up driving you back to house, understanding that you didn’t have a ride and it was dark outside. “thank you,” you said sincerely looking over at him. you never knew rafe could have such a heart, so it made you happy, even if he did hate your friends. “no need. i’d do anything for you,” he replied, putting his truck in park. he looked over at you, you doing the same.

“maybe we could hang out sometime,” he suggested. you nodded in response, a small smile showing faintly on your face. “i’d like that.” he handed you his phone, opening for a new contact before handing it to you. you entered your number and contact name, titling it “y/n 🐢” before handing it back to him. rafe smiled at the screen before sending a text to your phone. “i’ll text you back when my phone is charged,” you said, noticing that the text didn’t send yet. rafe nodded before unlocking the doors. “get inside safe, y/n.”

maybe rafe wasn’t that bad.

i love

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part15

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: Arguing. (tell me if I should add more I’m really bad at this.)

Selly's note: I'm sorry. Pls don't hate me💗

previous - next

Waiting was hard. Especially when someone told you they’d come. Every knock on the door had you looking up. Every single one, you thought it was them. 

After all, a promise had been made—to be there. 

But when they didn’t show, the disappointment stung. If you weren’t going to come, why say you would? Why give hope? 

If they’d said they were leaving, fine. It would hurt, but at least you’d know. But when someone says they’ll come, you wait. Even if they don’t say when, you wait. 

And then they don’t show. 

Their messed-up life, their thoughts, their world—so damn important that they can’t even pick up the phone to say, “I’m okay.” They just leave. Just like that. Like you meant nothing. Like you were a stranger. 

Should you be worried or just pissed? You weren’t even sure. Your mind kept running through scenarios, wondering if something happened. Maybe that’s why you didn’t call. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t it. 

They just didn’t. 

If they wanted to, they would have. 

And knowing that hurt the most. 

Lily and JJ. That was everything. Your world revolved around them. You spent every day together. And now, he was just… gone. Like he hadn’t been by your side for years. Like you had never been in his life. 

There was so much anger bubbling inside you that even stepping outside for air didn’t help. Even when Liliana came to talk about JJ, you struggled to keep your answers short. Every time she asked where he was, you had to bite your tongue to keep from saying, “rotting in hell.” 

Especially���especially when he left you alone at a time when maybe, just maybe, you were starting to feel something for him. Was no man reliable? The first chance he got, at the first sign of trouble, he ran. If you couldn’t even trust JJ, then who the hell was left? 

Screw love. He was your best friend. 

And sometimes—friendships mattered more than feelings. You would’ve pushed everything else aside just to keep him in your life. 

If you couldn’t trust him, then who else was left? 

You had called Rafe a coward before, but wasn’t this the same damn thing? 

The first chance he got, JJ was gone. No one knew where he was. Three days. And nothing. You didn’t even know if he was coming back. 

At night, after Liliana fell asleep, you’d lie awake. You’d cry, or you’d just stare at the ceiling, torn between waiting up for JJ and giving up on him entirely. 

But you waited. Like an idiot, you sat in the living room, waiting for him to walk through the door. How much lower could you sink? Sitting there, waiting for a guy who promised to come and never did. A guy who swore he’d always keep you safe but ran at the first real fight. 

And god, the worst part was, you had feelings for him. 

Your best friend. 

You pulled a pillow into your lap, hugging it close as your eyes stayed fixed on the TV screen. You weren’t even processing anything. Your mind was a mess. 

As if all this wasn’t enough, Rafe was still waiting for your answer. As if you had one. 

It wasn’t easy. This wasn’t something you could figure out in just a couple of days. You had five years of raising Liliana without him. And before that, you had years of being with him. How were you supposed to weigh nearly seven years of your life in just three days? 

But still, you had to decide before leaving for Asheville. 

You squeezed your eyes shut. Everything was too much. You hated how everything was piling up at once. Without thinking, you grabbed your phone. Even though you were pissed at JJ, making a decision about Liliana on your own felt wrong. 

Your fingers found Rafe’s number instead. You hesitated for a second, taking a deep breath. Then, before you could overthink it, you hit call. 

You should’ve just stayed in Asheville. 

The phone barely rang before it was answered. Your brows shot up. You hadn’t expected him to pick up that fast. Taking another deep breath, you opened your mouth to speak, but Rafe beat you to it. His voice was slightly breathless. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” Your voice was flat, the exact opposite of his. You weren’t in the mood to sound happy, let alone pretend you were fine. You just wanted to get this over with, to cross one thing off your list of a million things weighing you down. 

“How are you?” Even though you were the one who called, Rafe took the lead in the conversation. And that felt… strange. He wasn’t the same guy he used to be—you could tell. But every time he spoke, you could still picture the version of him you once knew. 

Like he was someone else entirely. 

And you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

You inhaled deeply, trying to find your voice. When you finally spoke, you hoped it sounded somewhat normal. “I’m fine.” 

If you had been face-to-face, even a stranger would’ve known that was a lie. When silence settled between the two of you. You hated phone calls. Especially when you didn’t know how to start them. 

Realizing you hadn’t even asked how he was, you spoke first. “You?” 

“I’m… good, I guess. What are you doing?” Rafe’s voice was quieter now. He wasn’t as excited as when he first picked up—he sounded calmer. His breathing had slowed. Maybe he’d picked up on the exhaustion in your voice. You didn’t know. 

After all, Rafe wasn’t someone you knew anymore, and you couldn’t begin to guess what was going through his head. 

Your eyes wandered around the room. Liliana’s toys were scattered in a few places, but the house was mostly tidy. You sighed. “I’m at ho—” 

Rafe cut you off, quick and eager. “Is Liliana with you?” His previous excitement was back, and you could tell from his voice that he was smiling. 

You pulled your legs up onto the couch, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see you. “No… No—she’s asleep.” 

“Oh… Got it.” 

“Great.” You replied dryly. The conversation hit another dead end, and for a moment, you almost forgot why you had even called. The silence stretched between you two, tense and uncomfortable, but it didn’t last long before Rafe spoke again. 

“Do you remember Topper—Of course, you remember Topper. Shit… Well… He’s having a birthday party. June 29th, I think. If you wanted to come—” 

You didn’t need to hear the rest. You were only curious about how he’d finish the sentence. 

“No.” 

The two of you weren’t close. You and Topper, especially, were never close. Being there wouldn’t just be weird—it would be unbearable. Besides, you weren’t exactly in the mood for parties or loud places anymore. At least not right now. 

Rafe exhaled. “Okay.” There was no disappointment in his voice, just acceptance. And you were relieved. You weren’t friends. You weren’t going to pretend to be by showing up at some party. 

“And yes, I remember him. Four years isn’t that long to forget someone.” You ran a hand over your face. You knew he was just stretching the conversation, but you weren’t in the mood. 

“Yeah… it’s not.” Rafe went quiet. You had a feeling you knew what—or who—he was thinking about. So, you stayed quiet. 

You weren’t old friends reconnecting after years apart, and you never would be. That’s why you had no interest in casual conversations. You wanted this to be short and to the point, yet somehow, both of you kept dragging it out. 

“So… I don’t want to pressure you, but have you thought about what we talked about? Or was this just… kind of your way of questioning if I even deserve it?” 

At his words, you sat up straighter on the couch. Did he deserve it? You had no idea. You hoped he did—if there was any chance of him being in Liliana’s life. 

“That’s why I called you. I—I know I said I’d think about it, but Rafe—Jeez, I don’t trust you.” You didn’t really trust anyone these days, but Rafe was at the top of that list. He didn’t just hurt you. He shattered you. And now, years later, he wanted to come back, claiming regret? 

It was disgusting. 

“I get it.” His voice was thick, almost strained. Maybe the old you would’ve felt bad for him. But he wasn’t there when you needed him. 

“No matter how much I try to be objective, at the end of the day, the person I’m gambling on here is my daughter.” And when it came to protecting her, there wasn’t a line you wouldn’t cross. Even if it meant running to the ends of the earth. 

Rafe said nothing. 

“I don’t want to say no. I don’t want to take that right away from Liliana. But I’m not saying yes either. I just… I don’t know if it’s the right thing.” 

“I completely understand. I—I’ll wait as long as you need. Whenever you decide to let me see her—if you ever do—I just… I don’t want you to think I’m doing this to get close to you. Shit, I suck at these kinds of conversations. I screwed everything up. Not just us—my whole life. And I don’t want to keep living like that. If there’s even a small chance that I can be better, I want to take it.” 

You wanted to believe him. You really did. But it was hard. Especially because you knew him—who he used to be. 

It felt like the hardest decision you’d ever have to make. Because this wasn’t about you. It was about Liliana. The moment you introduced them, it would be over. She’d know her father was back. She’d want to see him. 

The words left your mouth before you could stop them. “I’ll think about it.” 

You weren’t ready to give him a straight answer. Maybe you never would be. But you would think about it. 

“And I’m grateful for that.” The second those words left his lips, it felt like a punch to your stomach. You leaned back into the couch, sinking into the cushions, taking a deep breath. 

You didn’t want words of affection from him. You didn’t want soft reassurances. 

He would be in Liliana’s life. Not yours. And he needed to understand that. If he already did, then he needed to remember it. 

“I have to go.” You didn’t want to say goodbye. You weren’t friends. You never would be. 

“Okay,” Rafe said. 

“Okay.” You echoed him. 

“Take care.” Those were his last words before you ended the call. 

You weren’t friends. 

You didn’t want his thoughts on your life. Not even one. 

This was only for Liliana. That was the only reason you spoke to Rafe. The only reason you called. 

“Are you done?” 

The sudden voice snapped you back to reality. Your eyes flew open, and your body reacted faster than your mind, making you jolt upright. One hand clutched your chest as you turned toward the doorway. 

JJ was standing there, his expression unreadable, a not-so-friendly smirk tugging at his lips. He dropped the grocery bag in his hand onto the floor, shaking his head.

Did he really have the nerve to stand there and smile at you like nothing happened? Had he lost his mind? 

"I asked you a question, you know? Are you guys done talking?" JJ tossed his keys onto the couch. There was almost a smirk on his lips, but it was clear it wasn’t out of happiness—just pure mockery. As if he had any right to ask you anything. 

You wanted to yell at him, but you held back, keeping your composure. You weren’t going to drag this out any longer. He was already dense enough at the moment; you didn’t need word games. "Yeah. We're done." 

JJ let out a dry chuckle, staying right where he was instead of stepping closer. "What’d you tell him—actually, wait. Never mind. Forget it. I— I just wanna drop this. Do whatever you want, just don’t tell me about it." 

Your eyes squeezed shut. One hand went to your forehead, the other lifted as if you were trying to stop yourself from doing something reckless. You had no idea what the hell had gotten into JJ lately, but you wanted to rip it out of him and shove it so far up his ass that he’d finally cut this crap. "Stop doing that." 

"I'm literally not doing anything," JJ said, laughing right after. But there wasn’t a single trace of amusement in his voice. 

"I'm done playing games." You forced yourself to stay calm. He was the one who walked out of this house and didn’t come back for three days. And now, the moment he steps back inside, he thinks he’s the one who gets to act like this? 

JJ started moving toward the couch, pulling off his jacket as he went. "Whatever you say." He tossed the jacket onto the couch and leaned back, making himself comfortable. You clenched your fists, trying to keep yourself together. 

Liliana was upstairs, and yelling was the last thing you needed to do. You were not about to fight with JJ in front of her. Ever. 

You took a deep breath, swallowing down everything bubbling up inside you. Just one more try. If you could just get through this one last time, you could leave it all behind. Of course, you had every right to call him out for disappearing for three days, to be pissed at him, but you wanted to fix things, not burn them down. "If you're willing to sit down and talk to me like a normal person, I want to have one last conversation with you. No yelling. No arguing." 

JJ stopped. When he turned around a few seconds later, the smug, cocky attitude was gone. His expression had completely changed, his face unreadable. "Why?" 

"What do you mean, why? Don’t play dumb, JJ. I’m standing right here, trying to be a rational adult and talk to you." It was exhausting. 

JJ took a step forward, his brows slowly pulling together. "Are you seriously gonna make me repeat myself? I told you to do whatever you want. You’re her parent—" 

That was it. You shot up from where you were sitting, cutting him off before he could even finish. "One more time—just one more time you say that, and I swear to God, I will punch you in the face." You tried to keep your voice steady, but you already knew you’d failed. Your tone had gone sharp, louder than you intended. 

Not that JJ cared if you raised your voice. It wasn’t about him. It was about Liliana. You didn’t want her to hear this. 

"What do you want me to say?" JJ shrugged as he walked toward the couch, his tone infuriatingly indifferent. "I said it’s your decision, I’ll respect it. You get what you want." 

He was never going to understand. He only heard what he wanted to hear—he wasn’t even listening to what you were saying. "I don’t want to ‘get what I want.’ I want us to sit down and figure this out together." 

JJ rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck. You felt your patience snap. If this were Liliana, everything would already be resolved by now. But JJ? He was worse than her. More stubborn. More childish. "Jesus. I’m telling you, this decision is yours. I won’t interfere. What do you want, another fight like last night?" 

You couldn’t take it anymore. "Who even are you?" 

You watched as confusion flashed across his face. JJ took a step back. "What?" 

You didn’t stop. "Who the hell are you?" 

JJ’s eyes narrowed. Clearly, he had no idea what you were getting at. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

"Tell me what role you see yourself in Liliana’s life." 

JJ swallowed. His mouth opened, then closed, and his hand went to his hair like he was trying to figure out what to say. "I— isn’t it obvious?" 

You shook your head, fast. You didn’t want to be angry anymore. "No. Clearly, it’s not. We’re not on the same page. Tell me how you see it, and I swear to you, I’ll act accordingly. The way I see your role in her life and the way you see it yourself—they’re not the same." 

Whatever answer he gave, you would accept it. If he saw himself as an uncle, then fine, you’d treat him like one. If he saw himself as nothing more than a stranger, so be it. A brother? A parent? Whatever it was, you just needed to know. 

"I—" JJ started. 

"You what?" 

JJ spread his arms, looking at you like this whole thing was ridiculous. "This is bullshit." 

"You can’t even say it— You know what, JJ? Maybe, for the first time in five years, you actually disappointed me. And I really wish I didn’t have to feel that." 

It was never going to be simple, was it? He just had to fight back, had to shut you out instead of just facing it. You raised Liliana together. And yet— 

You didn’t even want to think about it. You tried to shove down the overwhelming urge to just walk away from all of this. JJ was the one person in your life you trusted the most. For the past few years, he had been. And you couldn’t wrap your head around how it was all unraveling in just a few days. 

If someone had told you weeks ago that you’d be standing here, questioning everything, you wouldn’t have believed them. You would’ve laughed and said, "JJ would never do that." 

But here he was. Doing it. Every word, every move—breaking your heart, little by little. He wasn’t JJ anymore. Not the JJ you knew. He was turning into someone careless. Someone indifferent. 

"Feeling’s mutual," JJ’s voice came sharp, dripping with sarcasm. You took a deep breath. You weren’t going to cry. Not in front of him. 

It hurt like hell. Not being able to be vulnerable, even with the person you trusted the most. Not even feeling safe enough to cry in front of him. 

Your eyebrows lifted, a bitter laugh threatening to spill. "That so?" 

"Yeah." JJ didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in his voice. He knew exactly what he was saying.

The words slipped from your lips before you even had time to think. You didn’t mean to say them out loud. But deep down, you knew they were true. 

"Maybe we're starting to hurt each other." 

And maybe you were. 

You couldn’t help but look at yourself, at the way you felt tangled up in emotions that never seemed to settle. It wasn’t just about what you felt for him—it was also about the way he made you feel. 

JJ’s lips twitched slightly before a dry, humorless laugh escaped him. 

"Maybe." 

You wanted to hate him. You wanted to so badly—except, no, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t hate. It was disappointment, frustration, an ache that sat too heavy in your chest. 

"It’s been three days," you said, hating the way your voice wavered. You hated how weak you sounded, how obvious the tremble was. 

And this time, you didn’t give him the chance to speak first. Maybe he wouldn’t understand, but for once, you wanted to open yourself up. You wanted to believe that if you said the right words, if you explained it in the right way, something—anything—might change. But you also knew, with a sinking certainty, that it wouldn’t. 

Because JJ was too damn stubborn. Too damn stupid. And you already knew exactly how this would go. 

You looked at him, searching for some kind of reaction, some acknowledgment that he was hearing you, that he was here with you. But he just stood there, staring at the ground. Silent. Avoiding your eyes. 

"You said you’d come," you finally said, voice quieter now, like maybe if you didn’t say it too loud, it wouldn’t hurt as much. "And I—" You swallowed, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at him. "I waited for you all night. Almost all night. I waited for that door to open, but you never showed up." 

You could still see it—the way you sat there, staring at the door, holding onto the stupid hope that any second now, he’d walk in. That things would be okay. That maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. 

JJ still didn’t lift his head when he spoke. His voice was so flat, so emotionless, that it almost felt like a slap in the face. 

"I'm here now." 

Your head snapped up, eyes narrowing as you stared at him. Was he serious? Was he actually standing here, looking you in the eye, and acting like that made up for anything? 

"You’ve got to be kidding me," you muttered, more to yourself than to him. You searched his face for any sign of regret, any hint of an apology, but he wouldn’t even look at you. 

You couldn’t believe this was the same person you had known for years, the person you had spent so much time with. He looked like a stranger. 

"Fuck you," you said, voice sharp and bitter as you turned on your heel. 

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stand here and look at him, not when he was acting like this. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest it felt like it was trying to break free. It physically hurt. 

You stormed toward the stairs, desperate to put distance between the two of you, but his voice stopped you in your tracks. 

"You don’t remember anything, do you?" 

There was something different in his tone now. It wasn’t flat, wasn’t distant. It was shaking. It was the first real emotion he had shown since he walked through that damn door. 

You turned back, brows furrowing. He was still standing there, shoulders slumped, eyes glassy. He dragged a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. 

"What?" you asked, confused. 

JJ didn’t look up. His hand pressed against his chest as if that alone could steady him. 

For a split second, you thought he was in pain. But then the memory of the past three days came rushing back, and all you could feel was frustration. Because if he was hurting, if something had happened, he sure as hell wasn’t letting you in on it. 

"I cared about you," he said, voice cracking slightly, as if the words themselves were painful to say. He wasn’t even talking to you at this point. It felt like he was talking to himself, as if he was saying it out loud for the first time. 

Something about it made your stomach twist. 

You hesitated, then slowly started walking back down the stairs. You didn’t know why. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded. Maybe it was the way he wouldn’t even look at you. Maybe it was the fact that despite everything, despite knowing better, you still wanted to understand him. 

"JJ," you said cautiously, searching his face. "What are you talking about? What don’t I remember?" 

You hated how lost you sounded. 

JJ finally stopped pacing. His body was tense, like he was holding something back, like if he said it too fast or too loud, the words might actually destroy him. 

"You really don’t remember," he said, mostly to himself. Then he let out a shaky breath. "For three fucking days, all I did was think about the last five years of my life. About you. About Liliana. About us." 

His voice broke slightly on the last word. 

"About the life we had together," he finished quietly. "And it fucking destroyed me." 

You felt like you had been punched in the stomach. 

JJ finally lifted his head. His eyes were red, and for the first time, you couldn’t tell if he was just exhausted or if he was actually about to break right in front of you. 

Where the hell had he been for the last three days? What had happened to him? 

You had spent so much time being angry, being hurt, that it hadn’t even occurred to you to wonder what he had been doing. Where he had been sleeping. If he had been eating. 

And the worst part? The first thing he did when he walked through that door wasn’t explain. It wasn’t apologize. It wasn’t reassure you that he was okay. 

No. 

He came in, looked you in the eye, and started a fight. Because that was what JJ did. That was all he knew how to do. 

You swallowed hard, watching him carefully. His lips parted like he wanted to say something else, but he hesitated. He looked wrecked. His body, his face, everything about him screamed exhaustion. 

He needed sleep. Maybe food. Maybe something stronger than that. 

But despite everything, despite how much he had pissed you off, how much he had hurt you, you still— God, you still cared. And you hated it. 

He wasn’t the same. He wasn’t the JJ you knew just days ago. He was looking at you like you were a stranger, like the past didn’t exist. But even after all that, even after everything he had done, if he asked for your help, you knew you would give it. 

Because you were an idiot. 

And because if there was even a small chance he would go back to the person you knew—the person you trusted—you would do whatever it took to bring him back. 

But you already knew how this would end. JJ had disappeared for three days after your first real fight. 

What the hell would he do the next time? 

When your eyes finally met his again, he swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his jaw clenched. He took a step toward you, but there was still so much space between you. 

"I need you to tell me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you remember, or are you just pretending?" 

There was almost a glimmer of hope in his eyes—you could see it. But you struggled to understand what he was talking about. He kept asking you about something you didn’t even know. No clues, no hints, just vague words. 

How could he expect you to remember something you didn’t even know existed? 

“How the hell am I supposed to remember something you never told me?! What am I supposed to remember?” 

You stepped down a few more stairs, closing the distance between you. Your stomach was tight, knotted with frustration. You were impatient, and it showed. You were sick of JJ’s cryptic bullshit.

Clear and direct. That’s all you needed. 

"You don’t remember." 

JJ shook his head. The moment his eyes drifted away from you, something inside you snapped. Whether it was anger or sadness, you weren’t sure, but you had reached your limit. 

"JJ. I need you to be straight with me right now. What the hell are you talking about?" 

Your voice rose without meaning to, and you shut your eyes tight, pressing your lips together. For just a second—just one second—you had forgotten that Liliana was upstairs. 

You turned your head, glancing toward the staircase, checking if she had heard or if she was coming down. But then, you heard a chuckle. Your brows knitted together. You had hoped—really hoped—that it wasn’t what you thought. But of course, it was. 

You turned your head sharply, eyes locking onto JJ, and of course, he was the one laughing. 

Of course. 

You had no idea how much more frustrating this situation could get, but you were about to lose your mind. JJ clearly needed some sleep. Otherwise, you’d be the one knocking him out and forcing him to rest—with a punch. 

Taking a deep breath, you kept your gaze fixed on him. JJ was staring at the floor, muttering almost to himself, "I’m an idiot. The biggest one." 

The moment you saw him move toward the stairs, your heartbeat picked up. You hated the way your body reacted to him getting closer. Even after the argument. 

He couldn’t just walk past you like nothing had happened. You weren’t going to let that slide. Not a chance. 

As he moved to step around you, the clean scent of him hit your nose, making your whole body tense. So, he hadn’t been outside all night. He had stayed somewhere. He had fresh clothes on. That feeling deep in your stomach made you shut your eyes tight for a second. You didn’t know where he had been. You didn’t know whose place he had stayed at. And— 

Screw it. His life. 

You grabbed his arm, gripping it tightly, stopping him in his tracks. He didn’t resist, didn’t try to move past you. It was like he had already accepted whatever was coming. "Tell me what you mean." 

JJ didn’t look at you. His gaze stayed on the edge of the stairs. He took a slow, deep breath. "A promise. You made me a promise. That no matter what, we’d always be there for each other. That’s it." 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he tried to move again. You stepped back quickly, blocking his path. This time, you were directly in front of him, but his eyes still refused to meet yours. You placed your hand on his chest, stopping him. "No, that’s not it. You’re lying. I know you." 

"Let it go." 

JJ shifted to move past you again, but you stepped in front of him once more. His chest brushed against yours, and for a second, your breath caught. He was standing on the lower step, yet he still towered over you. 

He could push you aside so easily. You both knew it. But he didn’t. 

Then, he lifted his head. The moment his eyes locked onto yours, you nearly stumbled. You felt like you should step back. Like you had to. But you didn’t. Not an inch. 

"JJ—" 

Your words died in your throat when his cold fingers touched your cheek. Your voice vanished. Unlike before, this time, he was looking directly at you. And you were certain—he was reading your mind. 

"Let it go," he murmured. "Like you said, all we do is hurt each other now." 

Hearing those words from him wasn’t the same as when you had said them. You were angry. But he—he was calm. Like he actually meant it. 

The words hit you like a punch to the stomach. Before you could process it, the warmth between you vanished. Your hand, the one that had been resting against his chest, dropped to your side. 

JJ averted his gaze, stepping down one more stair. The distance between you suddenly felt like miles. Neither of you looked at each other. 

"I’m gonna check on Liliana. I promised her a beach day tomorrow." 

You let him walk past you.

As the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, a light breeze swept across the beach. The waves lapped gently against the shore, mingling with the cheerful shrieks of children playing in the sand. JJ dusted off his thin t-shirt as he stood up, rubbing his eyes with his fingers before calling out to the small figure in the distance. 

“Lily! Come on! It’s getting dark,” he shouted. 

Liliana ignored his voice for a moment, carefully placing the final touches on her sandcastle. Her tiny fingers delicately lined up seashells, completely focused on making her towers perfect. Her face held a sweet kind of determination. But JJ wasn’t in the mood to linger much longer. Something restless and heavy stirred inside him—an unease that had been lingering for days now. 

Ever since that fight with you. It had messed him up more than he wanted to admit—left him feeling like he just wanted to disappear. 

He didn’t realize how much he had hurt Liliana until he walked into her room that night. The way she ran up to him, eyes wide and desperate, shattered him. And it wasn’t just because of her. It was because of you, too. Because of the second fight. 

He never wanted to start a fight, but those stupid feelings—those goddamn feelings—had him all twisted up. 

And if there was one thing he couldn’t get out of his head, it was kissing you. 

And then you had to go and mention Rafe, like it was nothing. Like it didn’t matter. Like it hadn’t been less than 24 hours since— 

Without even realizing it, he had brought Liliana back to the same beach where he had run into you. Only, this time, it wasn’t quiet. It was summer now, and the place was packed. Back then, it had been fall. Every time he glanced to the right, he could hear your voices in his head, replaying that conversation over and over. Every time he looked at the water, all he could see was the way you had laughed, the way you had splashed him, the way you had made him feel—light. Maybe that’s when it started. Maybe that’s when he started falling for you. He wasn’t sure. 

There had been other women since then—if you could even call them that. A handful, maybe. Dates that led to kisses that led to nothing. Nothing like what he had felt when he kissed you. 

You were water, and he was a man dying of thirst in the desert. 

For five years, he had taken other girls out on dates when it should’ve been you. It should’ve been you. 

But of course, you were drunk. JJ was just letting his mind run wild. You hadn’t been with anyone for five years, and people had needs—just like everyone else. Maybe, in that moment, he was just the most convenient option. You didn’t even remember. JJ had figured that out real quick. If you had, you would’ve said something. You would’ve reacted. 

But you just looked at him with those empty eyes, and it made him feel like absolute shit. 

He regretted it. And yet, he was grateful for it. It had pulled something out of him, something raw and real—something that probably should’ve stayed buried. 

He regretted it. He shouldn’t have done it. But he still wanted you to remember. 

No matter what happened, those moments shouldn’t have been just his to carry alone. 

Starting a fight had never been his goal. Swear to God. He just… hadn’t known how else to react. The kiss. You not remembering. And then Rafe. Like a slap in the face. 

He hadn’t wanted to leave, either. At least, not deep down. But if he had stayed, things would’ve just gotten worse. More fights. 

Was he sorry? Yeah. But was he angrier at himself than anything else? Also yeah. 

He ran a hand down his face and straightened up. As he watched Liliana keep working on her sandcastle, ignoring him completely, he took a deep breath. It was getting late. The sooner they got home, the faster she’d be asleep. 

He had just stepped forward to get her when a familiar laugh made his stomach drop. 

“Oh my God, are my eyes deceiving me?” 

JJ tensed. He knew that voice. Turning his head slightly, he saw three figures walking along the beach. He recognized them instantly—Topper, Kelce, and… Rafe. 

A punch to the chest would’ve been kinder. His hands curled into fists before he could stop himself. He hadn’t expected to see him again anytime soon. 

Kelce, always the cocky asshole, tilted his head with a smirk. “Man, you still alive?” His grin stretched wide, all teeth and mischief. 

Topper rolled his eyes, but he was grinning too. “We seriously thought you were dead. Swear to God.” 

JJ took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. This was not the kind of run-in he was equipped to deal with right now. He glanced back quickly, checking on Liliana—still playing. Good. He let out a slow exhale. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Rafe muttered, turning to the others with an unimpressed look. His voice made JJ’s skin crawl. 

JJ’s gaze flicked over Rafe. He had changed over the years, but not enough. The same arrogant posture, the same cold stare. It took everything in him not to let the anger boiling inside spill over. It wasn’t just personal hate—he hated everything about Rafe. Every. Damn. Thing. 

Except for one. 

Liliana. 

“As you can see, I’m alive,” JJ said, his voice surprisingly steady. Even he wasn’t sure how he managed it. 

It wasn’t like he had any real grudge against Topper or Kelce. He just couldn’t stand them. But Rafe? 

He loathed his entire existence. 

Kelce raised an eyebrow, pointing his beer at JJ with an amused look. “Just outta curiosity—not that I actually give a shit—but where the hell have you been for the last four years? There was a time when people were saying your dad straight-up killed you.” 

JJ clenched his jaw but forced a smile. Funny. He never thought he’d be someone people speculated about. 

He had just left. 

For you. 

And he had thought about coming back. So many times. But then he saw Liliana. He saw you. And that made it impossible.

You could’ve handled everything on your own. He knew you would succeed no matter what. But you didn’t have to. You would’ve been fine alone—you would’ve found a way. JJ knew that. But forcing you to do it? That wasn’t really his style. He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d walk away when he could make things easier for you, when he could help. 

Right now, his emotions were all over the place. His heart and mind weren’t on the same page. Especially when his brain kept screaming that he was going to lose you and Liliana. He was trying to pull himself together, but the second he got close to you, every logical thought in his body bailed on him. 

“So, since I’m standing here, I guess you figured out I didn’t do it. I was busy.” JJ cut straight to the point. There wasn’t much to explain. Especially not to them. 

Topper let out a loud laugh, stumbling as he nudged Kelce with his elbow. “I’d bet money he was out being a gigolo. The ladies’ favorite, right?” 

JJ rolled his eyes, annoyed. Same old dumb jokes, same pointless jabs… It was like time hadn’t moved at all. Like Topper was still that same kid from five years ago. 

How was it possible that while everyone else grew, evolved, added something to themselves, this guy was still stuck in the same childish loop? Had he seriously never done a single thing to improve himself? 

“Can we cut the crap?” Rafe muttered, eyes on the waves. He took a step back and sipped his beer. 

JJ realized just hearing his voice irritated him, so he quickly ducked down and kept gathering his stuff. The sooner he got out of here, the better. Especially after listening to these three run their mouths. 

Kelce grinned and turned to Rafe. “Come on, man! You don’t miss the old days?” 

“No. When are we getting on the boat?” 

“You’re such a buzzkill,” Kelce grumbled, glancing around. They were still standing in the same damn spot, as if there was nowhere else to be. 

JJ sighed, shaking his head. He really couldn’t stand them. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could put up with it. Straightening up, he grabbed his bag. “Yeah, yeah. Seeing you guys was terrible. Have fun.” He moved faster now, desperate to leave. 

But then Topper tilted his head, smirking. “Not even gonna say ‘happy birthday,’ Jackson?” 

JJ’s fingers clenched around the strap of his bag. He inhaled sharply, then turned to glare at Topper. The old him would’ve fired back with some sarcastic remark. But not now. Now, he just wanted to be done with this. “Happy birthday, Topper.” 

Kelce’s grin widened as he stepped closer. “Be honest—you started escorting, didn’t you?” 

This time, JJ actually laughed. If he weren’t living with you and Liliana, maybe he would’ve. He could’ve made some serious cash. “As tempting as it is to be a millionaire with this face—no.” He picked up his pace, avoiding eye contact, pretending Rafe wasn’t even there. 

“Same old ego—” 

And then Liliana’s voice cut through the air. “Why didn’t you look at my tower?!” 

JJ’s head snapped up. Her voice hit him like a bolt of lightning, sending a jolt of panic straight through his chest. And then he saw it—Rafe standing right next to her. 

His blood ran cold. 

Rafe was focused on Liliana, standing just a little behind her, but watching her intently. They shouldn’t be that close. No. 

JJ moved instantly, stepping in front of Liliana like a human shield. He reached out and gently placed a hand on her hair, making sure Rafe couldn’t see her clearly. “I did look,” he said quickly, keeping his tone even, trying to act normal. His heart was hammering in his chest. He needed to leave. Now. 

But Rafe… Rafe was already staring at her. Of course, he’d seen you and Liliana before. And of course, he remembered her. 

Shit. 

Liliana turned toward her sandcastle, pointing at it with a tiny hand. “Can we take it home?” 

JJ tensed. He cleared his throat and shook his head. Normally, he would’ve found that adorable. But not now. Not in this situation. He couldn’t even react. He just needed to get the hell out of here. “No, sweetheart. It belongs here.” 

And there it was—the thing he hated. Talking to Liliana in front of Rafe. Living through this exact moment. 

Goddamn it, he should’ve never come to the beach today. 

“But—Mommy would love it,” Liliana said. 

JJ swallowed against the lump in his throat. He took her hand and pulled her back slightly, reaching for the beach bag. “Mommy will help you build a new one when she gets back. Come on, grab your bag. It’s time to go.” 

“A kid?!” 

Kelce’s voice rang out, full of shock and amusement. “Damn! Holy shit. So that’s it. That’s why you’ve been so busy? Jesus.” 

JJ clenched his jaw. He didn’t want him talking about Liliana. He didn’t want any of them talking about her. 

“Shut up, Kelce,” Rafe muttered. 

JJ hadn’t meant to, but his eyes flicked to Rafe—and what he saw made his stomach tighten. 

Rafe looked… off. His expression wasn’t just shock. It was something deeper. Confusion. Anger. A kind of helpless frustration. 

It was all tangled together on his face, like he was trying to make sense of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. His gaze kept bouncing—from JJ to Liliana, then back to you. Over and over, like he was connecting invisible dots in his head. 

Like he was trying to put together a puzzle. His lips parted slightly, his brows furrowed. And then JJ realized. 

Rafe didn’t know. 

Rafe had only ever thought about you and Liliana. Just the two of you. Not you, Liliana, and JJ. In his mind, it had never included JJ. Because— 

You’d never told him. 

You never told Rafe that JJ was in your life. 

And now, standing there, he was staring at you like a complete idiot, his face frozen in stunned disbelief. JJ felt his chest tighten, anger bubbling up. He wasn’t even sure who he was mad at. 

But underneath that anger, there was something else. 

A dull, aching kind of hurt. 

How could you not tell him?

Were you really coming to JJ for his opinion on Rafe meeting Liliana… but couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him you had someone in your life? 

JJ couldn’t help it—he felt hurt. He didn’t know if you were a family, but you had shouted at him that he was Liliana’s parent. You had said it, whether he liked it or not. And yet—despite saying it to him—you hadn’t mentioned him to Rafe. 

Fuck. 

Rafe took a step forward, and JJ swallowed hard. God, he hated him with every fiber of his being. 

“What’s her name?” Rafe’s voice was ice-cold—just like his expression. 

JJ’s fist clenched. He pulled Liliana a little closer as he spoke. “None of your damn business.” 

But Rafe stepped toward the little girl. “What’s your name?” His voice was steadier this time, more certain. He already knew—he had figured it out—but he needed to hear it. He needed confirmation, and JJ knew that all too well. 

Still—no matter how much he despised Rafe, he wasn’t going to lose it in front of Liliana. 

The second Rafe moved in, JJ dropped the beach bag and stepped right in front of him. Their chests nearly collided, the tension between them sharp enough to cut through the air. 

Rafe didn’t take his eyes off Liliana. 

JJ, on the other hand, stared straight at him. 

Kelce and Topper immediately went on high alert. Topper even grabbed Rafe’s arm, giving it a small tug—but Rafe didn’t budge. Not even an inch. 

“Back the fuck off,” JJ’s voice was lethal. 

When it came to Liliana, he wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a second. 

Liliana, sensing that someone was talking to her, tilted her head up and answered sweetly, “Liliana! But my family calls me Lily.” 

JJ squeezed his eyes shut for a second. He didn’t want to do this in front of her. Fighting in front of Liliana wasn’t an option. 

With a deep breath, he took a step back. 

“What the hell are you doing, man?” Kelce yanked Rafe’s arm harder this time, his face full of genuine confusion. 

Rafe staggered slightly, running a hand through his hair. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

His eyes kept darting between JJ and Liliana, his breaths coming out sharp and uneven. He was standing right by the ocean, in the open air, but somehow—it felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

JJ didn’t waste another second. He scooped Liliana up effortlessly. “Come on, Lily.” He grabbed the beach bag and turned. 

Then, just as he was about to leave, he glanced at Topper. For half a second, he debated whether to say anything at all. But in the end, he just sighed. “Happy birthday, Topper.” 

Liliana, ever the mimic, waved her little hand at him. “Happy birthday, Topper!” 

JJ walked off, moving fast. 

Meanwhile, Rafe stood frozen, stomach twisting, head spinning. He felt sick. He didn’t even know why—just that he couldn’t stand being here a second longer. And sure, it was Topper’s birthday, but right now? He couldn’t care less. 

What the hell was that? 

“What the hell was that, man?” Kelce echoed his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed. He was trying to make sense of what had just happened, but it wasn’t clicking. 

Rafe shook his head, his voice low and hoarse. “I’m not in the mood. I’m heading home.” 

He didn’t wait for a response. He didn’t even look back. 

Topper let out a slow whistle, mumbling under his breath. 

“The fuck was that?”

When JJ slammed the door shut, the sharp sound echoed through the house, thickening the already tense air. His shoulders were tight, his fingers gripping the door handle for a brief second before slowly relaxing. 

Running a hand through his hair, he let out a tired breath. His shirt still carried the salty trace of the ocean breeze, clinging to him like the weight of the day. He tugged at the fabric absentmindedly, fingers reaching up to rub the tension from the back of his neck—until a noise from the kitchen caught his attention. 

The soft clang of a metal spoon against a pot rang through the quiet house, making it sound even louder. 

Without rushing, he made his way down the hallway. When he reached the kitchen doorway, he saw you. 

Your back was to him. You had the lid of a gently simmering pot lifted, stirring the contents with steady, deliberate movements. The steam rose, hitting your face, but you didn’t flinch or pull back. Your expression was blank as you stared into the pot, but the way you stirred—rough, almost aggressive—gave you away. 

JJ knew you’d heard him come in. 

The slight tensing of your shoulders. The momentary pause of the spoon in your hand. 

You knew he was there. But you didn’t look up. 

Of course, you knew he was home—but after that argument? You had decided you weren’t acknowledging him just yet. If he was going to act like an ass, you could too. 

“Where’s Lily?” you asked, frowning slightly. You would’ve heard her by now if she were home. 

“With Cleo,” JJ answered, voice even. He didn’t look at you either. 

Your brows knitted together. Liliana being at Cleo’s didn’t make sense. Why would she be there? You followed JJ as he headed toward the living room, still not sparing you a glance. 

“I thought you were at the beach?” you said, stepping out of the kitchen. 

“We were.” His voice was devoid of emotion. 

God, that attitude was pissing you off. He was still acting like this because of your fight? Really? Like a damn child. 

You took a sharp breath, trying to rein in your irritation. 

“Then why is Liliana with Cleo?” Your tone had an edge to it now. You weren’t letting this slide—he owed you an explanation. 

JJ dropped onto the couch and, for the first time since he got home, finally turned to look at you. “Because we need to talk, and I can’t do that with Liliana in the house.” 

Your arms crossed as you leaned against the doorway, lifting a brow. “Oh? Thought you made yourself pretty damn clear this morning.” 

The memory of how he’d spoken to you earlier sent another wave of irritation through you. 

“And I don’t want to argue with you while Liliana’s home,” JJ continued, voice steady but tight with barely contained frustration. 

You scoffed, shaking your head. “So we’re gonna fight, huh? That’s what this is?” There was a mocking lilt to your tone. The irony of it all wasn’t lost on you—fighting seemed to be all you two did lately. 

JJ let out a dry chuckle. “Not exactly out of character for us these days, is it?” 

Despite the sarcasm, you could hear the undercurrent of resentment in his voice. He was sick of this, just like you were. But neither of you seemed to know how to stop. 

You exhaled slowly, rubbing your temples. This was exhausting. The constant tension, the biting remarks, the thick air of resentment clinging to every room you shared. “What are you mad about now?” you finally asked. 

JJ laughed—but there wasn’t a single ounce of amusement in it. 

“The beach,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “We were there. And then, out of nowhere, your boyfriend shows up.” 

Your posture stiffened instantly. The fuck was he on about now? 

Your brows pulled together, irritation spiking. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

JJ’s smirk disappeared, face darkening. “Rafe. He showed up.” 

Your jaw clenched. 

Oh, for fuck’s sake. 

He was acting like you had personally invited Rafe there, like you had orchestrated the whole thing. As if you had any control over where Rafe went and when. As if you even wanted to see him. 

Rolling your eyes, you turned on your heel, heading straight back to the kitchen. “You’re ridiculous.” 

JJ’s footsteps followed behind you almost instantly. 

You shook your head to yourself, already regretting even engaging in this conversation. You didn’t want to keep this fight going, didn’t want him following you, but you knew he wasn’t about to let it drop. 

“You really think I’m making shit up?” JJ’s voice was right behind you now. 

You grabbed the spoon and resumed stirring, refusing to look at him. “I don’t have time for your bullshit, especially not when you’re accusing me of stuff that makes no sense.” 

You heard the shuffle of his feet as he stepped into the kitchen. Your grip on the spoon tightened. 

“Oh, so I’m lying?” JJ’s voice dripped with mockery. “You two haven’t been talking again? What do you call that, then? A little romantic reunion, lovebirds?” 

Oh, he was doing this on purpose. You slammed the spatula down onto the counter, planting your hands on the marble. “For the love of God, will you just shut up?” 

JJ let out another humorless chuckle. “So this is where we’re at now?” 

Finally, you spun around to face him, leaning back against the counter. “I seriously cannot stand you right now. You show up just to pick a fight, then storm out like it’s my fault.” 

JJ spread his arms, smirk still plastered on his face. “So I’ve gone from best friend to unbearable? Great. That’s real fucking nice to hear.” 

That was it. Your patience snapped. 

“What the fuck is your problem?!” 

You were done. Done with the endless bickering, the passive-aggressive jabs, the way he kept pushing you for no reason. 

JJ’s smirk vanished instantly. His jaw tightened as he jabbed a finger in your direction, voice rising to match yours. “You! You are my fucking problem! You and whatever the hell you’ve been doing lately!” 

The room fell into an eerie silence. Your breaths were shallow, your heart pounding. JJ exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face, squeezing his eyes shut. 

You pressed your palms against the counter behind you, gripping it tightly. 

This wasn’t him. Not the JJ you knew. 

“I don’t understand you anymore,” you admitted quietly. “I’ve tried—but I just don’t.” 

JJ didn’t say a word. He didn’t even lift his head.

When you exhaled sharply, shaking your head, frustration tightened your chest. "I don’t understand you anymore either." 

You had always been upfront with him. Always. But he was leaving you hanging in this weird limbo, refusing to give you clarity while demanding it from you. He had no right to say that. You had never done anything to make things uncertain between you two. 

"I’ve always laid my cards on the table, JJ," you said, voice steady but edged with irritation. "If you don’t get me, it’s because you don’t want to." 

"Oh, sure. Of course," JJ scoffed, voice laced with sarcasm. He turned to leave, but then—he hesitated. And when he turned back, there was something unreadable in his eyes. 

"He didn’t know about me." The words slipped out so fast, they caught even him by surprise. 

"What?" You frowned, already preparing for whatever cryptic nonsense he was about to spout next. 

"Rafe," JJ clarified, jaw tightening. "He didn’t know about me." 

The realization hit you like a slap. So that was what this was about. 

You stared at him, waiting for him to say he was joking. Because surely—this had to be a joke. 

"You didn’t tell him about me?" JJ asked, his voice so serious it made your stomach twist. 

Your lips twitched slightly before you could stop them. A chuckle bubbled up, unbidden. You pressed a hand to your mouth, trying to contain it, but it was no use. Laughter slipped through, soft and incredulous. 

"You seriously think I spend every second talking to him?" you asked, amusement cutting through your exasperation. "I’ve seen him, what, twice? And neither time lasted more than ten minutes." 

JJ’s expression darkened. He didn’t seem amused in the slightest. "And yet, you didn’t mention me. You didn’t think to tell him that I’m a part of Liliana’s life?" 

Your eyebrows shot up. "Oh, so now you admit you have a say in Liliana’s life?" 

Because just this morning—hell, three days ago too—he had been going on and on about how he wasn’t her parent, how he had no claim over her. And now, suddenly, he cared? What, had a flower pot fallen on his head since the last time you spoke? 

You never knew which version of JJ you were going to get whenever he walked through that door. It was exhausting, trying to keep up. 

JJ opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but then he hesitated. You caught the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. 

You tilted your head, a little too entertained now. You knew him too well—knew this wasn’t just about Rafe. JJ was mad, sure, but there was something else underneath. Maybe even hurt. You had never really seen him like this before, but still, you knew him. Knew him down to his core. 

"You were practically screaming this morning about how you’re not a parent," you mused. "So what changed?" 

JJ rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair as he took a step back. "Don’t twist my words." 

You scoffed. "Oh, I’m twisting your words? That’s rich, coming from you." 

His refusal to just talk to you like a normal person was pushing you past your limit. What was so hard about explaining himself? Why did he always have to turn everything into a fight? Did he really think you wouldn’t understand? 

You shook your head. "That’s your thing, not mine." Your voice was sharp now, laced with frustration you couldn’t hide. 

You hated this—hated fighting with him like this. It felt wrong. It felt like something was breaking. And all you wanted was to put it back together. But every time you tried, it just—fell apart again. 

JJ let out a dry, humorless laugh, looking away. "Unbelievable." 

You couldn’t read his expression anymore. And you hated that. 

He ran his tongue over his teeth before giving you that half-smirk, the one that usually meant trouble. Your eye twitched. Was he seriously about to keep this up? He was standing here, acting like the victim, when he was the one who disappeared for three days without a word? When he hadn’t even bothered to explain himself? 

You didn’t want to compare him to Rafe. You really, really didn’t. But right now—he was acting just like him. 

Your patience snapped. 

You took a step forward, pointing a finger at him. "You’re the one who’s unbelievable." Whatever amusement you had before was gone. "How old are you, JJ? Because you sure as hell don’t act like a grown man. You don’t talk like one. All you know how to do is run away and leave me to figure out your mess." 

JJ’s jaw tightened. He shook his head, like he refused to accept what you were saying. "Don’t. Just—don’t." 

You arched a brow, taking another step closer. 

You never thought it would get like this between you two. JJ had been—everything. Your best friend. Your partner in crime. The one person you could always count on. And yet, here you were, standing inches apart, breathing heavy, anger crackling between you like a live wire. 

"Oh, what? You don’t like what I’m saying?" You let out a bitter laugh. "What’s next, huh? You gonna throw all the things you’ve done for me in my face? Or maybe, this time, when things get too hard, you’ll just leave for good? You’ll walk away from me and Liliana—" 

A hand clamped over your mouth, cutting you off mid-sentence. 

JJ had moved fast. Too fast. His eyes burned into yours, inches away, his palm firm but not forceful against your lips. His other hand—when had that landed on your waist? 

His voice was low, steady. "I would never do that." 

He held your gaze like he needed you to believe him. Like he was silently daring you to contradict him. His eyes flickered between yours, searching—pleading, even. 

But JJ was a liar. 

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, prying his hand away. He let you. He didn’t fight it. He moved with you, like he was mirroring your actions. Slow, controlled. 

"I don’t believe you," you said, not even hesitating. 

Maybe he wouldn’t leave. Maybe he really meant what he said. But you wanted to hurt him, just like he had hurt you. And for the first time, you saw it in his face. The flicker of something breaking.

Just as he stepped back, ready to retreat, the grip around your waist tightened. You couldn’t move.

JJ wasn’t going to let you have the last word. His gaze stayed locked onto yours, pupils blown wide. “I’m not that kind of person. You know that.” His voice was a low, angry whisper.

You swallowed hard. His breath fanned across your face. A part of you wanted to slap him, to take out every bit of pain and frustration from the past three days. You wanted him to pay for walking out on you, to shove him right back into whatever girl’s bed he had been crashing in.

You shook your head, eyes narrowing. He had no right to say this. Not after leaving you waiting by the door for three days straight. The JJ you knew—if he said he was coming back, he came back. He didn’t leave you staring at the door, wondering if he ever would.

“I don’t think I know you anymore.” Your voice was just as quiet as his, but you felt the sting of it in your own chest.

You hated the effect he had on you. Hated that he could still make you feel like this. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. You were used to people walking away, used to getting hurt, used to betrayal. But JJ? You had leaned on him. He was supposed to be different. He had never let you down before.

And you know what? That made it hurt even worse.

JJ exhaled sharply, shaking his head. A bitter smirk ghosted his lips. “But you do,” he murmured.

You weren’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself.

“I don’t think so.”

You knew him better than anyone. That’s why you lied. Because deep down, you knew that if he just talked to you—if he just explained what the hell was going on—you wouldn’t even be fighting right now. But JJ was stubborn. Too stubborn. And you knew he’d never do that.

JJ took a half-step back, but his hand never left your waist. His brows lifted slightly. “So what now? What’s your next move?”

You shrugged. That wasn’t your problem. He was the one who needed to explain, the one who needed to apologize. Were you going to sit around and wait? No. You’d go back to Asheville alone if you had to. But he needed to say something. If this was how it was going to be, maybe your time as friends had run its course.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But if you had just talked to me instead of throwing baseless accusations around, we wouldn’t even be here.”

JJ sucked in a sharp breath, stepping closer. His frustration radiated off him. “You drive me insane,” he muttered, his jaw tight. One hand ran through his hair, eyes squeezing shut.

You stared at him in disbelief. Oh, sure. Like this was your fault.

Before you could stop yourself, you shoved him—hard. He didn’t budge. If anything, the force just brought you closer to him. But you didn’t back down. You jabbed a finger into his chest.

“Oh, I drive you insane?” Your voice rose, incredulous. “You’re the one who’s making me lose my mind!”

How the hell was this getting turned around on you again? How did he always make it seem like you were the problem?

JJ opened his eyes, calm now, which only made your anger burn hotter. He tilted his head slightly, watching you. Everything about him irritated you in this moment. He didn’t even have to speak. Just existing right now was enough to piss you off.

His indifference. The way he had yelled at you earlier. The way he walked out, promising to come back but never did. The thought that he had been God-knows-where for three days, probably in someone else’s bed. The fact that when he finally returned, he acted like you were the one in the wrong. The never-ending fights. The accusations. The way he could still compare you to Rafe—

Your stomach twisted with disgust. Not just anger. Disgust.

How dare he? After everything, how could he act like this was just some normal breakup? Like you were just going to go crawling back? You almost lost the baby, for fuck’s sake. You spent four years suffering, and he was the first person to see that pain firsthand.

You trusted him. You—you loved him. And the first chance he got, he threw it back in your face like it was nothing.

Fuck him.

He had left you. He had made you wonder if he was ever coming back. And now? Now you were the bad guy? Again? Just like when you were pregnant and chose not to go through with the abortion? Just like every other time when somehow, it was always your fault?

Fuck that.

“You never listen to me,” you snapped. “I came to you for this decision, but you—”

You tried to explain yourself. Again. Even though you shouldn’t have to. You should just tell JJ to go to hell and be done with it. But here you were, still trying to make him understand.

Your voice faltered. Because you didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. But God, you wished you did. It would hurt a lot less if you could just hate him.

But before you could say anything else, JJ moved.

His hand caught yours, gripping it tight. Before you knew what was happening, he tugged you forward. His other arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer—

Then he dipped down, and before you could even register what was happening, his lips crashed against yours.

For a moment, your brain blanked.

It didn’t last long.

Your free hand instinctively moved to his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. You weren’t thinking. Every sound in your head shut off.

JJ’s hand tightened around your waist, thumbs brushing slow circles against your skin. The kiss deepened, urgent, like he was making up for every second he had spent away.

He guided you backward. You took a few steps before your lower back bumped against the kitchen counter. You barely even noticed. JJ made a quiet sound against your lips when you pulled him in closer by the nape of his neck.

His hands slid lower, fingers gripping at your hips. Your heart pounded. A warning, maybe. But you ignored it. You didn’t want to think about right or wrong right now.

Because this—this was right. JJ’s hands on you. The way your bodies fit together effortlessly. The way every movement, every kiss, felt like second nature.

Like you were made for this.

JJ’s hands moved, gripping beneath your thighs. In one smooth motion, he lifted you, setting you on the counter. You gasped softly at the sudden movement, your hands flying to his shoulders.

Now you were eye level. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you in again, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

You both pulled back at the same time, gasping for air. When your eyes met for just a second, something stirred inside you. JJ closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours, your uneven breaths the only sound filling the space. 

His hands stayed on your hips. As you tilted your head up slightly, his lips brushed against yours again. Your hand instinctively reached for his cheek, but this kiss was shorter than you expected. JJ turned his head away, breaking it off, and you licked your lips absentmindedly. 

Slowly, his hands slid away from your hips. His gaze was somewhere else as he cleared his throat, rubbing his head like he was trying to shake something off. 

"I'm sorry. I— I shouldn’t have done that." 

The words hit like a punch to the gut. 

Standing there, you felt completely exposed, like he had stripped you down to your very core. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears while your hands had turned ice cold. 

Had that really just happened? Had you imagined it? Because once again, JJ was acting like it hadn’t. 

Was he regretting it? You hadn’t done anything wrong. Right? 

Had you crossed a line? 

You didn’t know what was happening, why he had suddenly pulled away, but there was a burning sting at the tip of your nose. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

You moved to step down from the counter, his name on the tip of your tongue—but JJ took another step back. His eyes never once met yours. 

"I should go. I— I don’t know what I’m doing. I wasn’t thinking. This was a mistake. I’m sorry. I’m really really sorry." 

Then, without so much as a glance, he walked out of the kitchen. 

You stayed frozen where you were. The sound of a door closing echoed through the house moments later, making you flinch. 

He had left you again. Left you alone in this house, only this time, with even deeper wounds. 

You had no idea what would happen next—you weren’t a fortune teller. But what you did know was that the real question wasn’t about the future. It was about how you were ever supposed to trust him again. 

Because JJ had just erased five years of your past like they meant nothing. 

He had been the one to protect you, and the one to hurt you. The one to kiss you, and the one to walk away. 

And you? Where did you fit into this story? Were you always just the one left behind? 

There had to be a reason. A justification for why he had snapped, for why he kept pushing and pulling, for all of it. But the worst part? 

You weren’t even sure if you wanted to hear it anymore. 

Your lips trembled as you shut your eyes. 

Five years later. Same island. Same feeling of being abandoned. 

Only the names had changed. 

Your mind replayed the image of Rafe walking out the door the moment he found out about Liliana. 

You had called Rafe a coward, hadn’t you? He was. But what about JJ? 

JJ was just another coward, just as fucked-up as the rest of them. Maybe the real mistake had been trusting anyone more than yourself in the first place. Maybe that’s what these last few days had been trying to tell you all along. 

Pathetic. 

You had trusted him more than you had ever trusted yourself. And for what? 

For him to run the first chance he got—just like the last one. 

Turns out, five years hadn’t changed a damn thing. Five years ago, you were an idiot. And now? 

Still the same damn fool.

[hvnlygrl]

rafe Cameron has started blowing off gf!reader to hangout with his friends like cancelling plans last minute, leaving in the middle of a date, and just ignoring/neglecting her when all she wants is to just spend time with him. And it makes her so sad and insecure and she finally confronts him when he tries to leave their plans and she says "if you don't want me anymore please just say it and stop stringing me along" and just breaks down and he feels terrible, she's the love of his life and he didn't realize what he had been doing and makes it up to her with cuddles gifts breakfast in bed and maybeee some smut

strung along the line.

pairing — rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count — 1.2k

warnings — lotta hurt lotta comfort, near-break up, make-up, fluff

synopsis — after rafe stops putting in enough effort into your relationship, you confront him about stringing you along.

notes — ugh my heart. why are boys so stupid sometimes.

the first time it happened, it stung a little, but you were sure it wasn’t on purpose. rafe didn’t show up to the date, leaving you to sit in the parking lot of the restaurant, tears streaming down your cheeks. it was more disappointment than anything else, but rafe chalked it up to getting caught up with topper and kelce at the paintball place, the date completely slipping his mind. 

you left it at that, opting to give him another chance. he missed that one too, his excuse being something to do with ward and some kook bullshit you didn’t understand. the last time, however, was different. 

the two of you were in the middle of dinner at your apartment. you’d made a home-cooked meal you found a recipe for online, and the two of you sat at the couch, about an hour into a movie you’d been begging him to watch for weeks. he was there, but mentally he was somewhere else. 

it felt like every minute on the minute he was checking his phone or texting someone. as the movie progressed, you became more and more fed up. then you watched him send a text and then look at you, face screaming i hate to do this, but. 

“you’re leaving, aren’t you?” the words only amplify your anger. 

“yeah, the boys wanna go try out topper’s new wave-runners, can we take a raincheck?” it’s almost as if he has no idea how much this hurts. or maybe he just doesn’t care. 

you scoff, shaking your head as you stand from the couch. you pick the plates up from the table and walk into the kitchen without saying a word. you rinse the dishes and place them into the dishwasher, dropping a pod into it and hitting the start button. 

“babe? is it cool if i dip? they’re blowing up my phone right now,” he reiterates from the couch, brows raised expectantly. 

“whatever, rafe,” you shrug emotionlessly as you make your way back to the living room. you curl into yourself on the opposite side of the couch, wrapping yourself in one of the throw blankets as you back out of the movie and put on the show you’d been binging recently. 

“you mad at me?” he asks, confused. 

you let out a wry laugh at that, cutting a glare at him. “what do you think, rafe?” 

“i don’t get why you’re mad, though?” 

“i’m not mad, rafe,” you look at him, eyes watering, “if you don’t wanna be here anymore i’m not gonna hold you hostage.” 

“what?” he cocks his head back at that, “what are you talking about?” 

“dude,” you scoff, “it just feels like you want nothing to do with me anymore. like every time we have a date or try to hang out you either leave early or just don’t show up and i just-” you can't help the way your voice cracks, “i just can’t keep waiting around for you all the time, rafe. this is killing me, so if you don’t wanna do this anymore just tell me now, okay? stop stringing me along, please.” 

rafe’s face falls with realization, his heart clenching at the look on your face alone. “oh shit, babe,” he starts, expression riddled with regret and agony. “fuck, i’m so sorry, i-i’ve been such a terrible boyfriend lately. it’s not you, i promise you that, i don’t know why i haven’t been putting in enough effort, i just have been so carried away with kelce and topper that i haven’t even noticed what i’ve been doing to you. i’m so sorry, baby. i do wanna be here, more than anything, i want to be with you more than anything.” 

his words send you spiralling a bit, tears flowing more freely now. you sob softly, hands flying up to cover your face. “i just don’t know what to do anymore.” 

“i know, baby,” he can't help the way his own voice cracks this time, “i never meant for it to be this way, please, please just give me one more chance. let me make it up to you, okay? i promise i’ll be a better boyfriend.”

“i wanna believe you, rafe, i really do,” you sniffle, shoulders falling in exhaustion, “but i just don’t think I can anymore.” 

rafe drags his hands over his head anxiously, “c’mon, baby, please. i swear to god, if i fuck up again you never have to see or talk to me again, okay? just let me prove it to you?”

you gnaw at the inside of your cheek for a bit, eyes locked on his bright blue irises. “fine. but don’t make me regret this, okay?”

“i swear i won’t,” he holds his pinky out to yours, waiting for you to link your own pinky with his. once you do, he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your soft skin. 

he texts topper and kelce, telling them to fuck off since he’s at dinner with his girl, and puts his phone on do not disturb. he cuddles into you on the couch, pulling your head onto his chest while his ringed hand rubs soft shapes onto your back. “i love you,” he hums into your scalp before pressing a kiss onto the hair.

“i love you, rafe,” you mutter back, heart panging at his words but aching to believe that it’s true. “more than anything.” 

“more than everything,” rafe retorts before pulling you tighter into his chest, nearly suffocating you in a hug. “i really am sorry.” 

you nod against his chest, feeling the tears well up in your eyes again. you desperately blink them away, hand gripping his t-shirt tightly as you control your breathing. 

you aren’t entirely sure when you fell asleep, or when rafe moved you to your bed. you woke up to the smell of bacon, eggs, and maple syrup. you pulled the charger from your phone and checked the time, a glaring 7:45 shining back at you. 

you scrolled on your phone for a few minutes before rafe made his way to the room with a tray of fruit, tiny pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs, just like you liked them. he even went to the store to get you more of your favorite breakfast drink; cranberry juice. 

“bon appetit,” he grinned at you as he placed the tray in your lap. 

“oh my god, rafe, when did you have time to do all this?” you look at him tenderly, heart fluttering at the time and energy he put into your meal. 

“i couldn’t sleep so I went to the store and got some stuff for breakfast,” he shrugs, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. “it’s no biggie, plus I know you don’t eat unless someone feeds you most of the time.” 

“that’s an exaggeration,” you huff, “i'm just not hungry most of the time.” 

“yea, well, you still gotta eat, babe,” he shrugs again as he scooches in next to you. “how is it?”

“it looks amazing,” you can practically hear your stomach growling at you just from the smell of the food, much less the sight. after taking a bite of everything on your plate, you look at him, nodding in approval, “it’s delicious.” 

“good,” rafe smiles at you, “i’m glad.” 

once you finish the meal, rafe takes your dishes from you and spends a few minutes in the kitchen as he cleans his mess. once he comes back, he gets comfortable next to you, this time letting you lay your head on his lap as he turns your favorite show on. 

“thank you, rafey,” you hum happily. 

“of course, baby,” he gives your bicep a tender squeeze, “anything for my girl.” 

-> back to masterlist.

rafe cameron taglist -> @lanasb0ngwater @wintersoldierenthusiastt

[girlyrafe]

──── ᴛᴇᴅᴅʏ .ᐟ

ᡣ𐭩 ❝ ꜱʜʏ¡ᴘᴏɢᴜᴇ ⟡ ݁₊ ❞

⌗ with rafe cameron .ᐟ.ᐟ

ᝰ summary .ᐟ You lie in Rafe’s bed, restless and unable to sleep without your childhood teddy, feeling embarrassed. Rafe notices and, despite your protests, lovingly goes to get it for you. His thoughtful gesture makes you feel safe, and you finally drift into peaceful sleep.

₊ ⊹ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

You’ve been lying in Rafe’s bed for what feels like hours, staring at the ceiling in the soft glow of moonlight, twisting and turning, unable to escape the persistent thoughts circling in your mind. His steady breathing beside you should be calming, but it’s not. There’s a tension in the air that you can’t shake, a subtle pull of unease that you can’t ignore. You try to focus on him—on the comforting weight of his arm draped around your waist, the gentle pressure of his hand resting just below your ribs. His fingers brush your skin occasionally, a faint, warm touch that sends little shivers down your spine, but all you can think about is your teddy.

You know it sounds ridiculous. You’re an adult, after all. You should be able to sleep without it. It’s just... your teddy. Your bear. It’s been with you since you were little, an old, worn thing that’s seen better days, but it’s the one piece of comfort that you can’t seem to outgrow. 

The more you try to ignore it, the more your need for it consumes you, like a quiet hum under your skin. You want to sleep; you need to sleep, but the thought of not having it beside you gnaws at you, building into a suffocating pressure in your chest.

Rafe shifts beside you, his body moving closer, his warmth pulling you in like gravity. The bed creaks softly under his weight, and for a moment, everything is still. Then his voice, low and groggy from sleep, cuts through the quiet. 

“You okay?” he asks, his words gentle, concerned, the kind of tone that always makes your heart flutter. 

You can feel his fingers brushing against your side, the rhythm of his breath in your ear, and you can’t help but smile at how sweet he sounds. He’s always so attuned to you, always picking up on the smallest shifts in your mood. But you can’t let him know what’s going on in your head. Not this time. This is too embarrassing.

“Yeah, just... I’m fine,” you murmur, your voice almost too soft, too hesitant. You hope it doesn’t sound as off as it feels, but you can feel the lie hanging in the air between you, heavy and uncomfortable.

Rafe doesn’t buy it for a second. He presses in closer, his arm tightening around your waist as he buries his face against the back of your neck. His lips brush against your skin, the softest, lightest touch, and you feel the warm smile against your skin.

“You sure?” he asks again, his voice still laced with that sleepy concern. “You’ve been tossing and turning for a while now.”

You hesitate, your heart racing. What do you say? You don’t want him to think you’re crazy, or worse, childish. But you can’t lie forever. You try to shrug it off, hoping that if you pretend enough, it will go away.

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, a little too quickly, your voice shaking just the tiniest bit. “Really.”

But of course, Rafe isn’t going to let it go. He never does. He’s the kind of person who sees when something’s wrong, even if you’re trying to hide it behind a smile. “Sweetheart,” he says softly, but with the kind of gentle firmness that leaves no room for escape. “If something’s bothering you, I want to know. I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

And there it is—the moment when the secret spills out of you before you can stop it. You feel your stomach flip, your cheeks turning hot with embarrassment. The words rush out in a rush, like an avalanche you can’t stop. 

“I can’t sleep without my teddy.”

There’s a long pause. Long enough for you to feel your entire body tense with dread. You brace yourself, waiting for him to laugh, to make fun of you, or to look at you like you’re a little too strange for his taste. You feel like you’re about to disappear under the covers in shame. But then, when he finally speaks again, his voice is soft and almost... tender?

“Your teddy?”

You nod, trying to make yourself smaller in the bed, curling into yourself, wishing you could just sink into the mattress. Your face burns like you’ve just lit yourself on fire. “Yeah,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know it’s silly. It’s just... I’ve had him forever, and I just—I just can’t sleep without him.” 

For a moment, everything is silent. You hold your breath, waiting for his response. You can practically hear him thinking, trying to figure out how to respond to this little nugget of vulnerability you just dropped on him. 

Then, to your surprise, you hear a soft chuckle, a warm, affectionate sound that makes your heart flutter in your chest. 

“That’s adorable,” he says, his voice still low but filled with affection, as if your admission were the most endearing thing he’s ever heard. You feel a small wave of relief wash over you, mixed with something else—something sweet and soft. “Why didn’t you just tell me earlier?”

You bite your lip, feeling your cheeks redden even more. “It’s... embarrassing,” you mumble, trying to hide your face in the pillow, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. Despite your nerves, his reaction makes everything feel a little lighter. A little easier.

“No, it’s not,” he replies, his voice unwavering. “It’s sweet. I like that you have something that makes you feel safe.” 

You hear him shift beside you, the bed creaking softly, and then, just as you’re about to say something else, he surprises you again. “Why don’t I go get him?”

But before you can protest, he shifts again, and you hear him sit up. “I’ll go get him for you,” he says, sounding more serious than you expected. “You need him, and I’m not going to let you be uncomfortable.”

You blink in stunned silence. “Wait, no, Rafe, you don’t have to do that. Seriously.” 

But it’s too late. You hear the soft thud of his feet hitting the floor, the rustle of his clothes as he grabs his keys. “I want to,” he insists, and even though you can’t see his face, you can tell there’s that stubborn, loving glint in his voice. “I’m going. Stay here. I’ll be back before you know it.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

You sit up, your heart racing. He’s going to drive all the way to your place to get your teddy. Why?

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You pick it up, still in shock, and open a message from Rafe. It’s a picture of him holding your teddy in one hand, a goofy, triumphant smile on his face. The caption? “Mission accomplished.” 

You blink. A strange lump rises in your throat, and your heart swells in your chest. You can’t believe he actually did this. 

Before you can process it all, you hear the sound of his car pulling into the driveway. And then, a moment later, he’s walking back into the room, holding your teddy like a trophy. His eyes are warm, his smile wide, and for a moment, everything else fades into the background. 

“I told you I’d get him,” he says, his voice soft but full of pride.

You laugh, breathless, and take your teddy from him, pressing it to your chest as if it’s the most precious thing in the world. “I can’t believe you actually did that,” you murmur, your voice tinged with disbelief and gratitude.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, settling back down beside you, pulling the covers over both of you. “I like that you have something that makes you feel safe. And if that means getting you your bear in the middle of the night, then I’m happy to do it.”

You relax into him, your teddy nestled between you both. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice low and teasing. “Next time, you don’t have to go all the way back to your place. I’ll get you more.”

“More?” you ask, eyes widening in surprise. “You’re kidding.”

He grins, a playful glint in his eye. “Yeah, I’ll keep a few here. Maybe I’ll start you a collection.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” he agrees, pulling you closer. “But I think you like me that way.”

And in that moment, with Rafe beside you and your teddy snug in your arms, you finally drift into sleep, warm and content, wrapped in the cocoon of his love.

©GIRLYRAFE

[promiscuousg1rl]

LOVE ME NOT — Rafe Cameron

Rafe Cameron x Childhood!Bestfriend!Reader Social Media AU

Summary: Since sandbox days, it has always been you and Rafe. The only person who can put up with his selfish bastard ways, you became one of the boys. However as the two of you grew older, you started to realize you don’t see him as another one of the guys. Harboring a crush on someone is universally awful, but having a crush on your best friend is worse. Especially when he doesn’t reciprocate. Deciding to save your friendship, you settled on time apart, spending your summer in the Bahamas. When you return, you are a whole different person—jewelry, makeup, and chic clothes—you became an ugly duckling story turned right. But time apart have given you insight, and you aren’t sure if you still love Rafe.  While he realizes he’s loved you this whole time.

Content: social media au, unrequited love trope, inspired/based on Love Me Not by Ravyn Lenae

NAVIGATION —

tba

TABLE OF CONTENTS —

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EXTRAS ! —

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LET ME KNOW IF YOU'D LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST!

[ds-angel1]

uncle!rafe x niece!reader

cw: SMUT(18+), incest, fingersucking, mention of alcohol and drugs, mention of parental death, small mention of pornography, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

a/n: idk why but uncle rafe is just so hot to me, you heard it from me; he wears dirty flannels, wears chunky rings and is SO into icky, dirty, taboo things, its crazy

Uncle!Rafe who was always close to his brother, your father, and helped raise you after your mom died. When your dad ended up dying as well, Rafe didn`t hesitate a single second to take you in. But he soon started noticing the strange things you did, dressing and acting too proactively towards him.

Your blasphemous actions made him begin to wonder if his brother was a good man or if he was the reason you started stripping on your uncle´s lap after convincing him to snort line after line and drink bottle after bottle.

Uncle!Rafe who looks like an older, more attractive version of your father, so you just couldn´t resist him. You already had to take care of your father when he was alive, now you had your uncle who you actually liked.

Uncle!Rafe who borrows your laptop when you´re not home, thinking you won´t mind, and then immediately being greeted by all the results of your sick, daddy-trained mind. Videos upon videos of incest porn and men who resembled Rafe and his dead brother in the slightest, and searches upon searches about just how illegal fucking your uncle is.

Uncle!Rafe who finally gave in after weeks of convincing, brutally and without an ounce of hesitation, thrusting into your slick cunt, sticking his thick, ring ridden fingers into your mouth as you drooled and moaned like the dirty little niece you are.

[zyafics]

GIRL WITH THE SIREN SONG | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb)

Pairing – Rafe x Mermaid!Female Reader

Summary — Rafe doesn't know how to act when your singing attracts everyone's attention.

Word Count — 1.8K

Content — fluff, protective!Rafe, jealous!Rafe, Sarah acting like a know-at-all (she's lowkey right), enchantment from siren songs, you acting clueless, and occasionally talking to sea creatures. A continuum of this and this.

You’ve been living with the Camerons at Tannyhill.

You have your own room, your own bed, but each night, you sneak into Rafe’s. You don’t understand the human normative of it being scandalous, you see it as an innocent gesture. Because he’s your mate.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Rafe asks softly into your hair as you snuggle against his chest, head resting on his skipping heartbeat. “Is the bed not good enough?”

“It’s fine,” you say.

“Then why do you keep coming into my room?”

Rafe doesn’t mind it, truly. If he can have it his way, he'll have you here every night. But he did it because Sarah suggested it—that you need your separate space, your own sanction outside of Rafe. What Sarah doesn’t understand is that it’s not normal in merfolk culture.

“You’re my mate,” you answer simply, drowsiness coating your words as you yawn against his chest, eyes fluttering to sleep. It’s always easiest to find slumber in Rafe’s arms, and within a few minutes, your breathing evens out, heartbeats slows, and you knock out.

When he rises the next morning, as always, you’re gone. The first time it happened, it scared him. Did you run off somewhere? Leave? He never finds you in your designated bedroom—though, the chances of that are low—and he doesn’t see you in any of the common spaces at Tannyhill. For a bleeding second, he thinks you truly have left.

But when he does find you, it’s on the beach of his estate. Chasing seagulls along the sand, kicking grains in the air, and talking to something.

You tell him it’s the fishes who have come to visit you.

He thinks you’re going insane again.

“You have to show her around Kildare,” Sarah declares, flipping through her morning magazine. “She’s talking to sea creatures because she has no friends.”

That isn’t true. “She has me.”

“Sure, and that’s all the companion she needs,” Sarah drawls sardonically, taking a sip of her glass.

Somewhere, deep down, Rafe knows his sister is right. He refuses to admit to her face, but it’s lonely at Tannyhill. Especially since you rarely join Sarah and her adventures. It doesn’t help that Rafe sometimes leaves you alone to your own devices, needing to help his father at Cameron Development or entertaining his other ventures.

But Rafe doesn’t like the suggestion. He doesn’t like the idea of you going out, away from this protective bubble he made for you. To keep you safe. Yet, he knows it’s necessary. Especially when he comes after you and sees no fishes, no turtles, no sea creatures in sight for you to exhibit such a claim.

You tell him it's because Rafe scared them and they swam away.

After that morning, Rafe suggested a party. Summertime hosts a lot of events, and nothing is more of a Kildare tradition than their weekly bonfires on the beach. It took little convincing to agree, with the stipulation that Rafe joins you.

He does. There’s no way Rafe’s going to leave you alone, and after you get ready—slipping on a bikini set that shows off every inch of your body, with a sheer sarong wrapped around your hips—he takes you to the bonfire.

It’ll be fine, Rafe convinces himself. It’s not like you’re going to be alone; you’ll be with him, in his arms. There’s nothing of danger.

He forgets how captivating you are.

Because when you arrive, all eyes are on you. You don’t realize it yourself—too entranced by the raging ten-foot bonfire in the center of the gathering, fuming dense heat and smoke in your direction. You’re surprised by the magnitude of the human population, sitting on logs, slipping on plastic cups—causing you to scrunch your nose—and having this rhythmic beat coming from large , black boxes that seem to project magic.

At first, the night started off slow. You in Rafe’s arms, introducing yourself to strangers, while he occasionally sips from a glass bottle (you refuse to hand him a plastic cup) while you engage in enthusiastic conversations about human culture.

But sometime later, it all vanishes. The battery to the stereos died, and there was a stilted, eery silence on the beach. Someone suggested a little song around the fire, and while it’s supposed to be taken as a joke, someone else targeted you—asking if you knew any songs to share.

You tell them you only know songs from your pod, these little melodies your people sing while traveling the high seas. They thought you were a nomad, and asked for you to sing one.

So, you do.

And it enraptures the entire audience.

Because you don’t sing a simple tune, a hummed sound in the ocean currents, you activate your siren song, the type to lure men off their boats and make them susceptible to your bidding. It starts with a small group, a handful of guys around you, circling, but as you sing, the crowd grows in magnitude. All men—even ones with girlfriends—ditch their partners to flock to you, to hear your voice, to see you.

It’s a mesmerizing sound.

But it makes Rafe jealous.

He knows it does. All these men have their attention on you, their sights on you, their salivating desire for you; it’s predatory. It makes Rafe tick, because you are no longer his little secret, his little mermaid, kept in his pocket, safeguarded in his arms. You are known, and perceived as the woman with the beautiful voice; the voice that can make any man drop to his knees.

At some point, the song ends, and Rafe thinks he can excuse taking you away from the crowd. But the people cheer—swinging cups in the air, demanding another song. You giggle under the spotlight, firelight shadowing your delicate features, in a way that almost reveals a set of fangs.

You start a new song, another whistle against the wind. Just as alluring, just as deadly.

That’s when Rafe had enough.

He grabs your arm and hauls you off the solitary log, pulling you away from the bonfire, away from the beach. He’s walking so fast, you can’t keep up, feet scrambling to catch ground, to find stability, and your brows furrow with thick confusion as Rafe takes these long, stifled steps towards the parking lot.

“Wait, wait,” you murmur, trying to catch your breath. “I can’t—”

He doesn’t listen.

He persists, trekking along the sand, moving across dried seaweed and driftwood with vigor. It isn’t until you’re trying so hard to match Rafe’s pace, to no avail, that a soft sob rips from the back of your throat, thick with emerging tears.

Once Rafe hears that faint noise, he stops. He releases your wrist and turns around, discovering your crestfallen expression, your eyes brimming with sparkling tears, and the most sadden pout paired with an utter look of confusion.

You exhale softly, scanning Rafe’s tensed features.

“What…” You start slowly, “What did I do wrong?”

Rafe says nothing.

“Are you mad at me?” Your voice croaks as if you can’t stand the thought of him being upset at you. It cracks at his walls, at the hard demeanor he tries to project, and his heart eases.

With a clenched jaw, Rafe glances back to the dispersing crowd of men—disenchanted, now murmuring with sounds of confusion on why they gathered together in the first place.

“Why were you singing?” He demands.

“You don’t like it?” You ask.

“No, I—” He rubs his jaw, a frequent habit he’s been doing since your arrival. “Do you see how those men look at you?”

“Of course I do,” you answer, normally, detached, as if there’s no problem with that.

“And you’re fine with that?” He scoffs.

“It’s a siren song,” you explain. “Of course, they’re going to be entranced. That’s the power of the lure.”

He remembers in his readings about this concept. The way sirens lured sailors to their deaths by the ballad of their voice. But he didn’t think it was still relevant. Of course, he doesn’t really know anything when dealing with this lore—this fusion of reality and fantasy.

Yet, it still doesn’t make sense.

If it’s meant to enchant all the men—why didn’t he get affected? Why didn’t he fall into a spell? Why didn’t he come to her? All he felt was a grating, nauseating feeling hollowing out his chest, thickening his lungs, at the idea that he has to share you and your voice with the rest of the island.

“Why didn’t it affect me?” Rafe asks lowly. He can’t believe he’s playing into this nonsense, this mythology, but it’s the only frame of reference he can work from. “If it’s a siren song, it’s supposed to lure me too. Why didn’t it?”

Your lips curve, as if you’re finding entertainment in his dubiety. Underneath the weight of the moonlight, it comes again, the sharpened row of teeth that he believed to be a reflection of his imagination.

“You’re my mate,” you declare, referring to Rafe as that term once more. “Mates aren’t affected by siren songs.”

“What—?” Rafe’s truly at his wit’s end. “What is that? What does that mean?”

“Do humans not have mates?”

“Do you mean friends?”

You shake your head delicately, taking a step towards him. “It’s a companion for life,” you explain, “Merfolk often travel in pods, but they break up when they hunt. Mates don’t. They’re always together, always bonded. That’s you to me.”

He’s trying to synthesize this into normal terminology. “So a boyfriend?”

“No,” you shake your head. “A mate.”

He’s clearly not getting it, and he’s too frustrated tonight to find the right answer. But, from what you’re saying, it implies that he means something valuable to you. Something precious. That settles the weight in his chest, tames the irritable side of his emotions, and calms the roaring ember of jealousy.

“Alright,” Rafe says after a long beat. “I’m heading back to Tannyhill, you comin’?”

You nod. There’s no way you can stay without your mate; that’s unsightly. Rafe extends his hand for you to take, and upon recognizing human customs, you do.

With contact, Rafe pulls you back towards him, towards his side, and you evenly walk to the parking lot where he has his car.

“If it bothers you, I’ll stop singing,” you say as Rafe wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you from the brisk nightly wind of the Atlantic Ocean.

“No, don’t,” Rafe enjoys your singing. In the morning, as you talk to your sea creatures; before bed, as you clean your teeth. He likes the soothing element of the sound. Music to his ears.

He just doesn’t like sharing.

“Just don’t sing to anyone but me.”

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[maybejj]

CRIMINAL LOVE PART 14

♥︎ masterlist ♥︎

SOCIAL MEDIA AU, 18+ MDNI

rafe x college!reader

warnings: mentions of a convicted killer

summary: With your last semester of grad school breezing by, you felt like you could sleep through the next couple of months and still graduate at the top of your class. You only had to get through 3 more months until you walked across the stage and rightfully earned your Master in Criminal Justice degree. All your hard work would finally be paid off. Until your professor hits you with one last assignment that will make you question everything. The assignment? Prisoner Penpals from the State of North Carolina Correctional Facility. Your penpal? Rafe Cameron. His sentence? Life without parole. His crime? First degree murder.

Notes: i’m so sorry for the lack of updates in this story recently! i’ve missed it so much. let me know your thoughts/theories/concerns! 🖤

taglist: @marleymarleymarleymarley @whytheylosttheirminds @athenalovesgoodies @zaynovak @ilovefiction4lmen @honeyluvsatj @judesgfirl @murdockcastleslut @potatodirectioner @fruitcakerafe @saveahorserideaspacecowboy @femasochist @akobx @yesshewrites1 @rafe-cameronswife @artdonaldsonlover @hannaa20002000 @sirenasmodeus @starsmoonn @gracelouiseoneill @cl4uus @harrys-housewife @papercranesandinkstains @bee-43 @chenslucy @moustacherryismyhusband @maybanksgirl69 @eddsthemunson @cherryhoneybabe @woodz-zz @emelia07 @freyawhitexxx1 @ursogorgeous13 @laniirackssss @sereneera @imsiriuslyreal @only9ngel @st8rkey @justdamnpeachy @okay1723 @rafeyzbaby @kathryn-maraudersversion @vanessa-rafesgirl @acidfeens @stylestarkey @rafes4 @moonywhisp3rs @different-tale-student @jjasmiineee

[urmum-lovesme]

May I request dad rafe? Surprising wife reader w a cake the (tried to) bake for her birthday?

anon this is so adorable stop I love the way your brain works😭

The house was filled with the vibrant scent of fresh flowers and colourful balloons floated cheerfully around the living room. Sarah had gone all out, making sure the place was filled with decorations to celebrate Y/N’s birthday. She had even topped off the presents Y/N received with a few extra touches, leaving Rafe to handle the rest of the surprise. Rafe was in the kitchen, a slight frown on his face as he flipped through one of his mom's old cookbooks. Baby Cameron, now six months old, was strapped into her high chair squealing in excitement as her daddy flipped through the pages. “Alright, let’s see,” Rafe muttered, reading the instructions aloud,

“Flour, eggs, sugar… how hard can it be, right?”

Baby Cameron responded with an enthusiastic squeal, as if agreeing with her dad. Rafe looked at her, his lips curling into a grin,

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”

He leaned over and gently lifted her out of the high chair, carefully sliding her into the baby carrier. Rafe murmured, adjusting the carrier straps and gently bouncing her.

“Time to show your mom how much I appreciate her”

Though Rafe had never baked a cake before in his life, he was determined to get it right for Y/N. She had been running around, balancing everything with the baby, and he wanted to do something nice for her- something simple but meaningful. As the warmth of the kitchen surrounded them, Rafe set the cookbook down on the counter, glancing down at his baby girl as she cooed, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

"Alright, you gonna help me?"

He asked, giving her a playful smile. She let out a squeal in response, as if saying ‘yes'. Rafe stood at the counter, holding the cookbook open with one hand and stirring the batter with the other. Baby Cameron, nestled in her carrier, was happily watching from his chest.

“This isn’t so bad, hmm?”

He murmured, a smile creeping onto his face as he stirred the ingredients together. “I mean, I thought it would be harder..”

The girl gurgled happily, her little hands swiping at the air as if agreeing with him. Rafe chuckled. He measured out the flour, cracking eggs into the bowl with precision. It was going so smoothly that he started to get cocky.

“Look at this baby girl, I’m a pro,”

He grinned, adding sugar with the same confidence. But just as he finished stirring, his foot bumped the edge of the counter, sending a stray bottle of vanilla extract tumbling off. It hit the floor with a soft thud.

“Shit”

Rafe muttered under his breath. He bent down to grab the bottle, careful not to knock anything else over. Meanwhile, watching her dad closely, the little girl let out a high-pitched squeal, her excitement increasing with every movement he made. Rafe, feeling a bit more at ease now that he picked up his mess, reached for the rubber spatula and handed it to the baby, who immediately grabbed it with both hands, her eyes lighting up with joy.

“Look at you,” he chuckled, “my little chef hmm princess?”

Baby Cameron’s response was to shove the spatula straight into her mouth, chewing on the silicone with delight, baby spit soon covering the pink heart shaped utensil.

“Uh- probably shouldn’t be doing that...”

Rafe said, his eyebrows furrowing. He gently pulled the spatula out of her mouth, placing it back down onto the counter. The baby girl's face immediately fell. Her bottom lip quivered as she gave him a pout that could melt anyone’s heart. Her upset whimpers started to fill the air between them causing Rafe to panic slightly,

“Oh shit-” he spoke realising his mistake, “I’m sorry, baby.”

She looked up at him with big, watery eyes, her little fists clenching in distress. He hesitated for a moment, gaze flickering back down to the spatula laying on the cold granite before sighing.

“Okay, okay, you win. Here-”

He gave her the spatula back to which she immediately waved it in the air in triumph, her giggles echoing around the kitchen. Rafe grinned and his daughter's delight mumbling to himself,

“Look at that”

But in her excitement she flailed her arms around enthusiastically and the spatula went flying- right into his face.

“OUCH!”

Rafe yelped, recoiling slightly, hand coming upon to touch his nose where she'd hit him on accident. . . well he hoped it was on accident.

“Probably deserved that,”

He muttered, rubbing his nose to which the baby laughed in response to, clearly pleased with herself. Rafe turned back to the counter, whisking the wet ingredients together whilst baby Cameron continued to giggle in the carrier. What he didn’t notice was her tiny hand sneaking out and grabbing a handful of flour. Before he could react, she flung it- spreading a puff of flour all over the counter, and the floor beneath her. In an erratic panic to stop the mess, Rafe jerked back, accidentally knocking over the flour bag, and sending it crashing onto the floor, spilling flour everywhere.

The kitchen went quiet for a moment as both of them stared at the disaster.

“Oh, Jesus”

Rafe muttered under his breath, slowly bending down to scoop up the flour with his hands. She let out a little giggle, watching him struggle. Her tiny hands reached out to play with the flour, but it only made the mess worse. With a sigh, Rafe shoved the flour bag back onto the counter, but in the process, another puff of flour flew up into the air, drifting down right into the little girl's hair.

Rafe blinked, staring down at his daughter, who now had a little flour dusted on her head.

“Oh no-”

Before he could react further, her tiny face scrunched up, her nose twitching as she let out the tiniest little sneeze. Her whole body jolted slightly with the force of it, her big eyes widening in surprise afterward. Rafe felt his chest squeeze at how unbelievably cute it was. His tough, 'Kook King' persona had no chance against his girl.

“Bless you, baby,”

He chuckled, reaching out to wipe some of the flour off her forehead. Still blinking in surprise, she let out a happy little babble in response, and Rafe could only shake his head, pressing a kiss to the top of her flour-dusted head. “Jesus, you’re killing me here,” he muttered.

“We’ll clean you up later, baby girl.”

Rafe carefully poured the batter into the pan, and kept one hand steady on the bowl while glancing down to check on the baby still firmly strapped to his chest. She was still happily chewing on the rubber spatula, completely entertained by it, her little fingers gripping it like it was the most precious thing in the world. He smirked, shaking his head.

“You’re really into that aren't you”

Pouring the last bit of batter into the pan, he suddenly felt a tiny flick of something against his arm. A second later, a little drop of batter splattered onto her cheek. She startled for a moment, before breaking out into wild giggles, waving the spatula in the air like it was part of the fun.

“Oh—sorry sweetheart”

Rafe chuckled, setting the bowl down and wiping his hands on a towel. Still laughing at her dad, he unstrapped her from the baby carrier, lifting her carefully before settling her back into her highchair. Her chubby little legs kicked excitedly as he grabbed a clean kitchen towel and gently wiped the batter off her cheek.

“Daddy’s so silly huh?”

He murmured, shaking his head at himself. She just stared up at him, wide-eyed and absolutely smitten, her gummy little smile melting him on the spot.

Rafe now stood at the counter, hands on his hips, staring at the cake like it had personally offended him. It had been baked- probably over baked- and he'd just finished cutting it.

The layers were… not even.

Not even close.

One side was thicker than the other, and the middle looked slightly lopsided, like it was barely holding itself together. He’d tried to cut it evenly, really, but his hand had slipped. And now it was just sitting there, looking a little. . . sad.

Baby Cameron, still strapped into her high chair, stared at the cake just as skeptically. Rafe sighed, glancing at her. “Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes playfully.

“My hand slipped.”

She just blinked at him, completely unimpressed. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the piping bag full of pink buttercream, ready to fix the disaster in front of him. But the second he picked it up, the icing started squeezing out of the wrong end, smearing over his fingers and onto the counter.

“Are you kidding me?”

He mumbled under his breath, trying to scoop it back into the bag, but it was useless. The more he tried, the worse it got.

“This shit is so stupid.”

Eventually, he managed to get the buttercream onto the cake, smoothing it over with a spatula. But no matter how much he tried to make it look clean, there were crumbs everywhere, mixed into the icing, and the colour wasn’t even right— splotchy in some places, too thin in others. By the time he stepped back, the cake looked… well.

Like a cake?

Rafe sighed, running a hand over his face, smearing a streak of pink icing onto his jaw. Defeatedly, he dragged his palm over his buzzed hair. He turned the cake towards his daughter, gesturing to the cake like he was presenting something grand.

“So… what do you think?”

She smiled up at him, completely unaware of the chaos, her little feet kicking under the tray of her high chair. Rafe huffed, shaking his head.

“Good enough”

With the cake iced- badly but iced- Rafe strapped baby Cameron back into the carrier against his chest, securing her snugly before turning back to the mess of frosting and butter smeared across the counter. He exhaled through his nose, deciding to ignore it for now. Instead, he grabbed a small bottle of sprinkles, the tiny multicoloured sugar rattling inside. He shook the bottle lightly, glancing down at Cameron.

“Alright, baby girl, you gonna finish the cake for Mommy?”

She squealed, waving her little hands, clearly delighted by the attention. Rafe unscrewed the cap just a little, just enough for a few to come out, and then handed it to her.

“Here, like this-”

He said, demonstrating a gentle shake over the cake. A few sprinkles tumbled out, landing haphazardly across the icing. She giggled, her tiny fingers clutching the bottle as she eagerly mimicked him. Sprinkles rained down onto the cake, dotting it with bright pops of color. Rafe grinned, watching her delight in her little task but then, in her excitement, she shook it too hard.

The lid popped off.

All at once, the entire bottle of sprinkles dumped onto the cake, forming a heap of colorful sugar right in the middle.

“Oh, shit-”

Rafe muttered, eyes widening. She froze for a second, staring at the cake. Then she let out a loud, gleeful belly laugh, kicking her legs against his stomach. Rafe sighed, shaking his head, but there was no real frustration behind it, how could he possibly be mad at her?

“Great job princess”

He muttered, leaning forward slightly to pick the lid off the cake.

And that’s when disaster struck.

Baby Cameron's tiny hand, still chubby with baby fat, plunged straight into the icing causing Rafe to jolt back at the sudden, unexpected action.

“NO—!”

It was too late.

Now, right next to the mountain of sprinkles, was a perfect little baby handprint smushed into the buttercream. He looked at the cake in utter disbelief. Then down at the little girl strapped to his chest. Then back at the cake.

“Well…” he exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face as he scratched his cheek,

“Could be worse.”

The baby, now waving her icing-covered hand in the air, babbled happily. Before she could get it everywhere, Rafe caught her hand, shaking his head. He wiped a little of the pink icing onto his finger, holding it up for her to taste. She eagerly sucked on his finger, blinking up at him with wide eyes, kicking again in delight at the sugary treat. Rafe huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he playfully licked the last bit of icing off her pinky.

“You’re so naughty, you know that?”

She just giggled, pure joy lighting up her tiny face. The front door creaked open, and Y/N’s voice rang through the house.

“Guys, I’m home!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in pure panic.

The kitchen was an absolute disaster. Flour dusted nearly every surface, there was butter smeared on the counter, a rogue spatula sat abandoned in the sink, and- most importantly- the cake was a lopsided, sprinkle-covered mess with an obvious baby handprint in the frosting.

“Shit, shit, shit,”

He muttered under his breath, moving into overdrive. With one arm, he fumbled through the drawer, yanking out a candle- was it the right kind? Who cares. He jammed it into the center of the cake, grabbing the lighter. As he flicked it on, he barely noticed his daughter, still strapped snugly to his chest, managing to get a hold of the spatula again. From the hallway, Y/N’s footsteps grew louder.

“Where are you guys?”

Rafe scrambled, lighting the candle, tossing the lighter aside, and grabbing the cake. He walked around the counter so he’d be the first thing she saw when she entered.

“Surprise!”

He said quickly, forcing a grin. Y/N appeared in the doorway, her eyes immediately landing on him- and then dropping to the cake in his hands. Her lips parted slightly, taking in the uneven layers, the heaps of sprinkles, and the little baby-sized handprint pressed into the frosting. And then she noticed her daughter, wide-eyed and happy, holding the spatula up like a trophy. Rafe glanced down and did a double take, his face twisting in disbelief.

“Are you serious?” he started, looking between his daughter and the spatula in confusion.

“How do you keep getting that?”

She just squealed, waving it around proudly. Y/n's lips twitched before a giggle bubbled out, and then she was laughing, full and bright, doubling over slightly as she clutched her stomach. Rafe huffed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“I—I’m sorry,” she gasped between giggles.

“It’s just—what happened in here?”

Rafe glanced at the kitchen like he was just now registering the full extent of the mess. “Uh… well, happy birthday baby.” He flashed her his best charming smile, motioning to the cake.

“Made this by myself- with a little help.”

Y/N stepped closer, still grinning, eyeing the chaotic decorations. “Oh, I can tell.” She pointed at the baby handprint.

“I take it this was our baby girls contribution?”

“Yeah, she really put the final touches on it.”

At the sound of her nickname, their daughter kicked her little legs excitedly and beamed up at Y/N, still clinging to the spatula like her life depended on it. Y/N’s heart melted as she reached out to gently cup her daughter's chubby cheek.

“Did you help Daddy make me a cake, baby?”

In response to her mother's words, she let out a string of happy babbles, waving her arms- spatula included. Y/N gasped playfully.

“Oh, you did? You worked very hard, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, too hard,”

Rafe grumbled, watching as the baby joyfully wiggle her arms around, resulting in her smacking his chest lightly with the spatula. He shot Y/N a look.

“She’s dangerous with that thing.”

Y/N giggled, shaking her head before looking at the cake again. It was far from perfect- wonky layers, uneven frosting, and enough sprinkles to last a lifetime- but the fact that they had made it for her?

It was the best birthday cake she’d ever seen.

“This is the sweetest thing ever.”

She met Rafe’s gaze, warmth blooming in her chest. He smirked, shifting the cake slightly in his hands.

“Yeah? You like it?”

“I love it”

She said sincerely, reaching up to wipe a smudge of pink icing from his jaw with her thumb bringing it to her mouth, humming slightly at the sweet taste of the sugary cream.

“Mess and all.”

“Good, ‘cause we nearly destroyed the kitchen making it.”

Rafe gave her a lopsided grin. Her eye's drifted around to look at the kitchen, she didn't even want to think about how long this was going to take to clean up. Y/N giggled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back just slightly.

“Thank you baby”

“Anything for you, birthday girl.”

His smirk softened, his free hand settling on her waist. Rafe finally set the cake down onto the counter island, rubbing a hand over his buzzed hair with a sigh. Y/N stepped in closer, standing right beside him, and before she could say anything, he dipped his head down, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips once more. She hummed into him, her fingers grazing the side of his neck as she smiled.

“You taste sweet.”

They both chuckled, their foreheads nearly touching before a happy babble from the little girl made Y/N pull back, turning to their daughter. She reached out to smooth a hand over the soft baby hairs on her head- pausing when she noticed the light dusting of flour clinging to them. She raised an eyebrow at Rafe.

“And this?”

“Yeah, uh… I was getting to cleaning that.”

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck. Y/N shook her head fondly before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to Cameron’s chubby cheek.

“Thanks for the present, sweet girl,” she cooed. Rafe exhaled beside her, running a hand over his jaw.

“Sorry… I thought it’d turn out a little better.”

Y/N frowned at him before shaking her head, cupping his face in both hands as she kissed him again- soft and sweet.

“It’s perfect, baby, I wouldn't want anything else.”

Rafe gave her a small, boyish grin, but before he could say anything else-

SMACK.

The spatula struck him right in the face again, and he groaned, closing his eyes as the little girl waved her prize around like a trophy. Y/N let out a giggle, biting her lip at their daughter unexpected attack, yet Rafe's reaction told her this wasn't a first.

“And we spend so much money on toys for her.”

Y/N laughed, as he slipped an arm around her waist, both watching their daughter babble happily, completely unaware of the chaos she had caused. Rafe shook his head, eyeing the baby skeptically.

“Next baby we have, we’ll let them loose in the kitchen.”

I love their little family so much Dad!Rafe is such a softie for his girls 😊

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly (part four)

genre: she fell first, he fell harder; fluff with hints of angst; drama; no explicit smut

kms masterlist | <- part three | part five (soon) ->

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, suggestive language, overthinking, light tension

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and you were paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week long project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if you weren't awkward as hell and well ... if there weren't your big fat crush on him. could this be the beginning of a friendship or maybe even more? one thing was certain: rafe cameron was intense, impulsive, and complex in ways that weren't always for the better, and your mind? that shit was even more tangled. but you hadn't spent all these years crushing on him from a distance just to let this chance slip through your fingers ... right?

summary of recent events: you spent the day overthinking after rafe had texted you out of nowhere almost immediately after your first project session. waiting for his response, you ended up distracting yourself at the beach with cara where no one other than jj maybank interrupted your little hangout. later at home, you find yourself enjoying texting with rafe and you even agree to another project session for the next day.

word count: 4.5k+

a/n: this one's longer than the last three, whoopsie. also, fyi molly will play an important role later (for the better or worse 😇), so she’s not just a random boring side character i came up with lol. plus, replaced the “slow burn” genre tag with “she fell first, he fell harder” bc it fits better (i still don’t wanna rush things). anyway, i hope you guys enjoy, and i'd love to hear what you think about this part <3

With tired eyes, you sank into your seat next to Cara in the third row of the bio lab. Getting out of bed this morning had been a struggle.

And to make things worse, it was Tuesday—first period biology with Mr. Martin, the oldest and slowest-talking teacher at Kildare Academy. On top of that, you’d barely gotten any sleep last night because the events of yesterday had kept you up.

In seven years, you’d exchanged maybe a handful of sentences with Rafe Cameron, and then suddenly—BOOM. Project partners. A shared lunch. And then you’d texted with him. For someone who usually did the bare minimum when it came to their crushes, this was a full 180.

Of course, you couldn’t stop obsessing over how awkward you’d been during lunch yesterday, not to mention the horrible 'fuckboy' misunderstanding ??? And oh God—that had just triggered a full mental highlight reel of every embarrassing moment in your life.

Diagnosis: chronic overthinker.

“I saw Rafe in the parking lot earlier,” Cara murmured, a wide grin spreading across her face. “And girl, he looked hot. And I don’t mean frat boy Cameron hot—I mean, there’s-something-different-about-him hot. I was gonna take a picture for you but knowing my luck, the flash would've gone off.”

You stifled a laugh. “Very thoughtful of you, C, but I’m gonna see him later anyway.”

“Ooooh, so you guys set up a second date?” she teased, nudging you with her elbow. “One day after the first? That’s moving fast.”

Heat rushed to your face and you smiled sheepishly. “I was referring to Economics class. But yeah, we did set up another meeting for the project.”

“Mhmm, for the project…” Cara smirked.

You twirled your Apple Pencil between your fingers and rolled your eyes, amused. “You’re reading too much into it.”

Cara raised an eyebrow. “And you’re not reading into it enough. He went out of his way to get your number when he could’ve just asked you at school. Hell, he probably could’ve found it in some random party or class group chat. But no—he made it a point to track it down, which, by the way, is basically his way of showing interest. And now, he’s making plans to see you again. Rafe isn’t exactly known for putting effort into schoolwork. So yeah, safe to say it’s not just about the project.”

Her words were dangerous because they gave you something you really didn’t need—false hope. And sure, everything she was saying kind of made sense. But you knew better.

“Maybe, but we don’t know that. So there’s no point in getting all delulu,” you said quietly.

“Oh, Y/N!” Cara’s voice came out louder than intended, earning her a sharp look from Mr. Martin.

Her cheeks flushed pink, and she mumbled an apology in her best teacher’s pet voice before turning back to you. “With that attitude, nothing’s ever gonna happen.”

She wasn’t wrong. But wasn’t this just you being realistic?

“I'm not saying play easy to get but also don't choose to not play at all,” she urged. “Rafe might seem untouchable but he’s just a guy. A very attractive one, but still—a guy.”

Shit, yeah, she's right.

You nodded, then met her gaze with a small smirk, remembering the chat with Rafe yesterday. “By the way, he’s just as much of a Ruthie hater as we are.”

Cara clasped her hands together dramatically. “Oh, I love that. Bet Cameron has some top-tier gossip. You know he’s got insider knowledge.”

You bit back a laugh. “Guess I have to recruit him now.”

“That’s the spirit!”

-----------------------------------------------

Next up was geography. Molly Crane slid into the seat beside you, her red hair styled into an effortlessly pretty updo.

“You look way better today,” she noted, referring to yesterday’s little bathroom meltdown before you met with Rafe.

You smiled. “Yeah, turns out the milk in my cereal was expired,” you lied, feeling a pang of guilt.

“Oh no,” she winced. “That happened to me once. I was stuck in bed for two days with stomach cramps. But glad you recovered quickly.”

Her laugh was infectious, and you found yourself grinning along.

Molly was genuinely the sweetest person in Figure 8. Honestly, you couldn’t understand how she wasn’t already in a relationship. She even worked part-time at a smoothie shop run by some old Pogue guy who couldn't do it anymore.

God created Ruthie Whitmore and sent Molly Crane as an apology.

Speaking of Ruthie… You had the privilege of spending the next two periods in her delightful presence.

Her obnoxiously loud voice was already ringing through the hallway, carrying over from inside the classroom.

As much as she pissed you off, you couldn’t ignore the fact that you were excited to see Rafe again. Texting with him last night had been fun—but today, there’d be no screen to hide behind.

It’s fine. You got this.

When you stepped into class, most students were already seated—either talking about last weekend’s party or flexing about their latest Daddy-funded luxury cars. Others, like you, had just gotten back from break and were still finding a seat.

Ruthie, of course, was at the front, wearing a tight top with an obnoxiously low neckline, deep in conversation with her best friend about… whatever. Who cared? Why were you even listening?

Just as you set your bag down in your usual window seat in the front row, a voice spoke beside you. “Do you really wanna do this to yourself?”

You blinked, stunned, and looked up—straight into Rafe Cameron’s smug grin.

His storm-blue polo made his eyes pop in an almost criminal way. It also clung just right to his frame, and holy fucking shit, he smelled so good.

And Cara had been right—something was different. He looked even better than usual… somehow even more confident than he already was.

Oh, great. Here we go again.

Your face heated as you gave him a confused smile. “What?”

“Ruthie,” he said flatly. For a split second, you thought she might turn around in offense, but she was too busy running her mouth to notice.

You raised a brow at him, to which he just scoffed, clearly unbothered. “She knows I don’t fuck with her.”

Literally or figuratively?

Wow, chill.

Still, you weren’t entirely sure where he was going with this. You fiddled with the strap of your bag. “It’s not like I can just go sit on the other side of the school.”

Hadn’t we agreed—no more dumb jokes?

Rafe huffed out a small laugh, then tipped his chin toward the back of the room. “Last row should be far enough.”

…

Was that—was that an invitation? Shit. YES.

OKAY, UM—

You stared at him, a little too stunned to respond. If he hadn’t meant it like that, this would be beyond awkward.

Rafe raised a brow, his smirk widening. “So you are a nerd.”

And with that, he turned and walked toward the back of the class.

IT WAS AN INVITATION.

FUCK FUCK FUCK, MOVE, YOU IDIOT.

You clenched your jaw, shoving past the second-guessing thoughts trying to creep in—and followed him.

You almost walked right into him when he stopped at the row of desks by the window. A knowing smirk played on his lips as he glanced back at you. “Rebellious.”

Heat rushed to your face as you furrowed your brows. “I just don’t wanna be labeled a nerd.”

For a moment, something familiar flickered across Rafe’s face but before he could respond, Mr. Collins' voice cut through the room.

“Whew, okay, sorry for the delay, guys. Had a little incident in the teachers' lounge.” He cleared his throat, then his gaze landed on the back row. “Cameron, Y/L/N, flirting's reserved for after class. Now sit down if you would.”

Holy fucking shit. Not even noon, and today was already a disaster.

All eyes were on you. Some students let out a general chuckle, while others (the girls, let’s be honest) rolled their eyes or shot you two —specifically you—annoyed looks.

Heat spread across your face like wildfire as you quickly dropped into the chair next to Rafe—only for your bag, still slung over your shoulder, to nearly body-slam his right side.

“Jesus, is your dad Mike Tyson or something?” Rafe muttered, rubbing his arm with an amused smirk.

Okay. That’s it. You’re cursed. There was no other explanation for the absolute insanity of the last two days.

At least most of the class had already turned back around to listen to Collins ramble about some irrelevant teacher drama.

Face burning, you yanked your bag onto your lap. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. You okay?”

Rafe huffed a quiet laugh, nodding. “The Golden Shore's looking for a bodyguard. Might wanna apply.”

You stared at him for a second before raising a brow, unable to hold back your tongue. “I’d rather crash a Cut house party than step foot in that place again.”

The Golden Shore was the peak of Kook pretentiousness. You’d visited this nightclub once with Cara and some other friends but 99% of the people were just there to show off their expensive clothes and jewelry, not to actually have fun. Not all Kooks were like that, obviously, but that club attracted the absolute worst of them.

Rafe raised a brow, looking more confused than amused. “And I’d rather shoot myself than hang out with a Pogue.”

You smiled, but it faded fast when you realized… he actually meant that.

“I thought your dad was originally from the Cut.”

Okay. That did not sit well with him.

Rafe’s jaw tightened as he tilted his head, an irritated smile creeping onto his face—one that sent a weird, uncomfortable feeling through you. “The fuck do you know about my dad?”

Thin ice, Y/N. Very thin ice.

“I just mean—”

“What? You think you're better because both your parents grew up in Figure 8?” His tone was sharp enough that a few students in front of you turned their heads.

First of all, how the fuck did he know that? And second, what the hell was his problem?

You scowled, shaking your head in frustration. “What? No!”, you shot back, harsher than you intended. “What does someone’s background have to do with whether they’re ‘better’? This—I don’t give a shit about stuff like that. If anything, it’s impressive how your dad worked his way up. That just makes him even more respectable, doesn’t it?”

And there it was again—that look. Slightly raised brows, eyes subtly widening, lips pressed together like he wasn’t sure how to respond.

But just as quickly, it disappeared behind a lopsided smirk. “Shit. I thought that attitude yesterday was just an act.”

Now you didn’t know how to respond.

Was he messing with you? Or was he just covering up how ridiculously over-the-top his reaction had been?

Something told you it was both, and for some reason, that left you feeling… unsettled. Rafe’s moods flipped so fast, you didn’t know what to make of it.

For now, you decided to go along with it.

You gave a small, awkward shrug, your eyes flickering down to your fidgeting fingers. “This got nothing to do with attitude. I'm just saying what I think.”

“So do I,” he replied, but the sharpness from earlier was gone, replaced by something more playful—almost like a challenge.

You met his gaze, and for a second, you swore he was testing the waters again. But for what?

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Mr. Collins cut in loudly. “Since you and Mr. Cameron seem to be deep in discussion, I assume you were just going over the answer to my question?”

Oh. Fuck.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Of course, you had no idea what he was talking about, and by the look on his face, he knew it too.

Even worse, half the class was now staring at you like you and Rafe had just gotten caught doing something inappropriate.

You forced a polite smile, ignoring Ruthie’s smug expression from across the room. “Could you repeat the question, sir? Just to make sure I heard it correctly.”

Collins’ lips twitched slightly. “Of course. When two companies are in direct competition but neither wants to be the first to lower their prices, what economic principle is at play?”

Economic principle… how the fuck would I know? Shit. It's some kind of theory, right?

You felt heat creeping up your neck.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Rafe rubbing his nose. Barely audible, he muttered, “Prisoner’s dilemma.”

Good enough.

“That would be the prisoner’s dilemma,” you answered.

Collins nodded, but without breaking eye contact with you, he said, “Correct. Thank you, Mr. Cameron.”

Shit.

“Would you care to explain the origins of that theory?” This time, his question was directed at Rafe.

“It’s a classic game theory move,” Rafe said, not missing a beat. “If one company cuts its prices, they get more customers, sure. But if both drop their prices at the same time, they both lose out. So, neither does it—nobody wants to be the one getting screwed over.”

Holy shit.

Collins nodded again. “Can you give me a real-world example?”

Rafe shrugged. “Seabrook Club and Bluewater Country Club. They both want to attract the richest members but if one suddenly lowered their membership fees, it’d make them seem less exclusive or some shit. So they both keep prices high because neither wants to lose that luxury appeal.”

Okay. The confidence with which he just laid all of that out was so fucking attractive, you almost forgot to breathe.

“Very good. Thank you, Mr. Cameron,” Collins said, looking pleased. Then he turned back to you. “Perhaps next time, Ms. Y/L/N, you’ll focus a little more on my lesson—rather than your new seatmate.”

Yeah. And you really thought this day couldn’t get any more humiliating.

-----------------------------------------------

After the absolute train wreck that Economics had been, you were beyond relieved to hear the bell finally ring.

At least you’d managed to avoid a third public humiliation. Not that it couldn’t still happen at some point…

Rafe, on the other hand, seemed completely unbothered. When you’d awkwardly thanked him for saving your ass, he’d just shrugged and said, “If you hadn’t answered, Collins would’ve called on Ruthie, and I wasn’t in the mood for that shitshow.”

Still, it had been a nice gesture—even if Collins had definitely seen right through it.

Not that you’d been able to focus on anything for the rest of class anyway. First, your brain had been stuck in an endless replay of your mortifying failures. And second—YOU HAD BEEN SITTING MERE INCHES AWAY FROM RAFE CAMERON.

Not across from him. Not at the table next to him. No, right fucking next to him. Sometimes, your elbows almost brushed, and—Jesus Christ, what the hell was in his aftershave? Crack? He smelled insanely good. If you’d been ovulating, you probably would have jumped him like some rabid werewolf.

You almost laughed at the thought. As if. You were about as far from that kind of action as one could possibly be—taking a walk to the sun seemed more realistic.

And even though class was finally over, the stress and heart palpitations weren’t. Because now, you still had to get through working on that damn art project.

Which meant—at least, you thought it did, since you hadn’t talked about it since yesterday—that you and Rafe would be eating lunch together again.

Unless, of course, he was already sick of your constant embarrassment and decided to eat somewhere else instead.

Honestly? You wouldn’t blame him.

As you packed up your things, you caught a glimpse of Rafe checking something on his phone, his brows pulling together slightly. Then you felt his gaze shift to you.

Oh God—had he noticed you—

“Shit, I totally forgot Kelce wanted to make pizza at his place today,” he muttered, sounding somewhere between annoyed and indifferent. Whether that irritation was real or just for show, you had no clue.

Okay… two options here: Either he actually forgot, or he was using this as an excuse because he’d just realized you were a walking magnet for awkward situations (as if that wasn’t already obvious from the start).

You forced a casual smile, trying to ignore the tiny pang of disappointment. “No worries, we’ll just reschedule.”

Rafe slung his backpack over one shoulder, then, in the most unfazed way, he said, “Or you could join us.”

ALERT. ALERT. BRAIN SHUTTING DOWN.

Wait, what? Was he serious? Was he messing with you? WHAT THE HELL WAS HAPPENING???

This had to be a joke. Why would he want his random project partner crashing whatever hangout he had planned with his friends?

Completely overwhelmed, all you could manage was a dumb, “To Kelce’s…?”

The worst part? It wasn’t what you'd said. It was how you'd said it—like Kelce was some kind of bizarre alien creature that simultaneously confused and disgusted you. (Which, okay, wasn’t that far from the truth if you were being honest.)

You opened your mouth to correct yourself but Rafe beat you to it with an amused scoff. “Shit, now that I think about it, I’m not sure I wanna eat his pizza either. He’s been on some insane gym grind lately, probably stuffing two pounds of protein into the dough.”

You let out a breathy laugh, cheeks still warm. “Sounds like you don’t exactly share his enthusiasm.”

“Oh, I do.” Rafe lifted his brows challenging, adjusting his backpack strap just enough for his bicep to flex slightly—barely noticeable, but definitely intentional. “I just don’t need to be on the same type of shit he’s on.”

Of course, your eyes immediately dropped to his arm and of course, you turned bright red. And because the universe had clearly decided to make you suffer today, of course, he noticed and that smug-ass smile crept onto his face.

SAY SOMETHING. QUICK. BEFORE THIS GETS EVEN MORE AWKWARD.

“Yeah, then I definitely don’t wanna mess up your grind,” you blurted out with an awkward smile. “Besides, I wouldn’t wanna just show up unannounced.”

Rafe shrugged, furrowing his brows slightly as he pressed his lips together in a careless meh. “Don’t give a shit what they think. Kelce brings some random chick to our hangouts all the time.”

Okay. And how exactly were you supposed to take that?!

Was he just saying it to prove that it was okay for him to bring people along, no matter who? Or—and this was the part that sent a weird, uncomfortable feeling through you—was he putting you on the same level as one of Kelce’s random hookups?

The second option made something twist in your stomach, and none of those feelings were particularly pleasant.

“Shit, don’t make that face,” he said with an amused but slightly exasperated smirk. “It’s not like I’m inviting you over to fuck or some shit.”

WHAT THE FUCK. WHY WAS HE SO STRAIGHTFORWARD???

Your stomach dropped, and the heat in your face flared up all over again. You quickly shook your head, brows furrowing. “What?! No, what the fuck—I know!”

TOTALLY BELIEVABLE.

Rafe held your gaze for a moment, then slowly nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Good. Then let’s go.”

-----------------------------------------------

The door of the Mercedes swung open, and Rafe slid into the driver’s seat. With a furrowed brow, he tossed the keys onto the dashboard and dropped a wad of cash into the center console.

He looked… pissed.

Which, in turn, made your nerves tense because an entire car ride filled with awkward silence would actually kill you.

You fiddled with the strap of your bag in your lap, and even though it wasn’t really your business, you found yourself asking, “Everything okay?”

Rafe frowned, eyeing you irritated, then he shook his head, fastening his seatbelt. “Yeah. That guy's just a fucking idiot.”

You nodded, immediately regretting having agreed to this. Sitting here felt weird. Wrong. Surreal.

And as Rafe pulled out of the parking lot, you couldn’t help but wonder how many girls had already sat in this seat before you.

That, in turn, made you feel ashamed because it wasn’t your place to care. You had no right to judge him for anything.

I’m not his hookup, not his date, and definitely not his girlfriend. I’m his project partner in what’s probably the most boring class of his life.

Ugh, Y/N, drop that pick-me mindset immediately.

You pulled your bag a little closer and turned to stare out the window.

It was so embarrassing but this whole situation was stressing you the fuck out. It was just too much change all at once. On top of that, Rafe was—objectively—a very complicated person. He was impossible to read and you were never a hundred percent sure when he was joking, maybe flirting, messing with you, or actually being serious.

It was overwhelming, to say the least.

At the same time, the whole concept of Rafe Cameron was finally starting to take some kind of shape. He was still practically a stranger, but there was a certain thrill to figuring him out—to see what kind of person your longtime crush actually was.

“What?” Rafe’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You blinked, turning your head slightly. “Huh?”

A knowing smirk tugged at his lips but his gaze stayed on the road. “Don’t tell me I scared you off earlier.”

His words came back to your mind. It’s not like I’m inviting you over to fuck or some shit.

You frowned, cheeks pink. “What? No, of course not. I can take a joke.”

Rafe raised a brow, glancing at you for a second. “Then why am I receiving bad vibes from your end?”

Despite yourself, you smiled. “I'm not giving off 'bad vibes'.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” he shot back, waving a hand vaguely in your direction. “Arms crossed, legs locked together, staring dramatically out the window like you’re in some—pfft, I don’t know—some shitty Netflix movie or some shit.”

A quiet laugh left your lips, and warmth crept into your cheeks. “I... just don’t think your friends will be thrilled to have me randomly show up at Kelce’s,” you admitted.

“Shit, you’re nervous about Kelce and Topper?” Rafe looked genuinely amused and met your eyes for a second. “Kelce constantly talks out of his ass, and Topper doesn’t say shit when it actually matters. They're gonna disappear the second we start working on this art stuff.”

…

Was this his weird way of reassuring you? Because if it was, it was kind of working.

You glanced down, smiling slightly to yourself. “I’m just saying, I would’ve been fine with rescheduling. I feel bad crashing your little guy hangout with school-related business.”

Rafe shook his head, scoffing amused (or annoyed, you couldn't quite tell). “You scared hanging out with three guys or what exactly is your problem?"

Yes.

"No", you replied irritated, yet cheeks heating up. "Of course not. All I’m saying is you didn’t need to rearrange your plans."

Rafe’s brows twitched into a furrow for a second, then a cocky smile spread across his face. "Shit, you think you’re receiving some kind of princess treatment? I'm not rearranging my plans for you, I'm combining two things that happen to fit into my schedule."

Princess— what the fuck?

You shook your head, face flushed. “I—don’t twist my words.”

“I’m not. I asked if you wanted to come along and you said yes.” He shrugged. “And now you make it seem like a problem.”

Shit, he was right.

“I know”, you said, shaking your head. “I mean, I just thought—“

“Yeah, you think too much”, he replied mockingly locking eyes with you for a second.

"That's not..." You hesitated, then gave a resigned nod. “I know.”

There was no point in hiding the truth, especially if he'd noticed.

You caught the flicker in Rafe’s expression— he’d been expecting a comeback, not a quiet agreement.

When the car slowed to a stop at a red light, he leaned over without a word, reaching for the glove compartment. Instinctively, you shifted your legs toward the door.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, opening it and grabbing something before tossing it onto your lap.

You flinched as the cool, colorful object touched your skin, raising an eyebrow. “A fidget spinner?” you asked, letting out a baffled laugh.

“Wheezie’s,” he said, leaning back into his seat. “Makes her shut up when I drive her to volleyball practice.”

Okay, first of all, he was driving his little sister to volleyball practice? Very cute. Second, what the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You smiled uncertainly, raising a brow at him. “So, you want me to shut up?", you carefully asked.

He scoffed, driving on as the light turned green. “Sure because you're such a bigmouth." Then he shook his head, gesturing with his hand in your direction. "Nah, your nervousness is just pissing me off", he said but there was no real bite in his tone.

Your cheeks flushed as you struggled to come up with a response. It was obvious you were kinda anxious given the circumstances, so there was no point in denying it.

Absentmindedly, you spun the fidget spinner between your fingers, watching it whirl. Oddly enough, it worked—it helped you settle your nerves and quiet your thoughts.

Or maybe it was the thought that, in his own strange way, Rafe was trying to calm you down.

A warm smile tugged at your lips as you kept your eyes on the spinning toy. “Your sister seems pretty cool.”

Rafe scoffed amused. “She’s annoying, though she knows how to keep her shit together better than most people.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, and the tension in your body seemed to fade away for a moment, only for it to return minutes later when Rafe turned into Kelce Statter’s driveway.

Your fingers made the fidget spinner come to a halt and you pressed your lips together.

The biggest challenge would await you inside the house.

Because the moment you stepped out of the car, two more very intimidating obstacles were waiting for you: Kelce Statter and Topper Thornton.

-----------------------------------------------

kms masterlist | <- part three | part five (soon) ->

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Taglist (open):

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee @sttaejoon-blog @vogueprincess @princesspeaxhh @wtfisastiles @wefelldowntherabbithole13 @rafes4

[rafesbows]

older!policeofficer!rafe and partygirl!reader where he comes to break up a house party and she’s there. rafe has arrested her multiple times before and she always flirts with rafe when he arrests her (he tries to remain professional but she can always see the way he’s lowkey into it). tn she’s in a bad mood so instead of flirting w him she’s just being a smart-mouthed brat and giving rafe attitude. once he handcuffs her and puts her in the back of his car he takes them somewhere and he fucks the attitude out of her in the handcuffs please i’m on my hands and knees begging

"real professional, officer," you snarked, rolling your eyes as rafe clicked the cuffs around your wrists, his grip firm as he guided you toward the squad car. "what, you get off on arresting me or something?"

his jaw tensed, a muscle ticking as he ignored you, shoving the back door open and pushing you inside.

"thought you loved when i arrested you," he muttered, shutting the door behind you.

normally, you'd flirt, pout, bat your lashes and tease him just to watch him squirm, but tonight, you were pissed. your mood was sour, your usual act nowhere to be found.

"yeah, well, tonight i think it’s fucking boring," you shot back, shifting in the seat as the cuffs dug into your skin.

rafe only let out a slow, deep breath, slipping into the driver's seat without another word. you expected him to take you to the station, same old routine. but instead, he drove in the opposite direction, turning down a back road that led nowhere.

you narrowed your eyes. "uh, where are we going?"

rafe didn’t answer, just pulled into an empty lot, threw the car into park, and turned to you, expression dark.

"you wanna act like a brat, huh?" he murmured, voice lower now, rough around the edges.

your stomach flipped.

"what, you gonna add an extra charge to my record?" you shot back, playing it cool.

but rafe just smirked. slow. dangerous.

"nah," he drawled, reaching back and yanking you forward, your cuffed wrists pinned between you. "m’gonna fuck it out of you."

before you could respond, his mouth was on yours, hot and demanding, hands gripping your hips and pulling you onto his lap. the cold metal of the cuffs pressed into your lower stomach as he shifted you, dragging you over the bulge in his uniform pants.

"so fuckin' mouthy," he muttered against your lips, his grip tightening. "lemme see if you’re still talkin’ after i’m done with you."

your breath hitched, thighs squeezing around him as his hands moved under your dress, fingers hooking into your panties and yanking them to the side.

"been waitin’ for this," he groaned, voice strained as he freed himself, the head of his cock brushing against your dripping core. "you love pushing me, don’t you?"

your head fell back with a gasp as he pushed inside, stretching you open with one slow, deep thrust.

"fuck, officer," you whimpered, arms straining against the cuffs as you tried to grip him.

rafe chuckled darkly, his hands moving to your hips, holding you still.

"show some respect."

rafe punctuated his words with a deep, brutal thrust, forcing a strangled moan from your lips. your bound wrists pressed against his chest as you tried to brace yourself, but he was relentless, slamming up into you like he had something to prove.

"this what you needed, huh?" he gritted out, his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he used you, dragging you up and down his cock. "this why you act like such a fuckin’ brat? just needed me to put you in your place?"

you let out a high-pitched whimper, your head falling back against the car window as his thick length hit every spot inside you, stretching you open in the most delicious way.

"look at you now," he scoffed, his voice dripping with amusement. "not so tough when you’re stuffed full of my cock, huh?"

you tried to glare at him, but the pleasure was too much, his pace unrelenting, his grip firm, forcing you to take every inch of him.

rafe smirked at your fucked-out expression, at the way your lips parted in a silent moan every time he bottomed out.

"thought you didn’t wanna flirt with me tonight," he taunted, his breath hot against your ear. "but now? now you’re begging for it."

you didn’t even realize you were whining, desperate little gasps spilling from your lips as he fucked you deeper, harder, each stroke sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core.

"rafe—oh, fuck—"

"yeah, that’s what i thought," he grunted, his thrusts growing erratic as your walls clenched around him, squeezing him tight. "so fuckin’ wet for me. fuckin’ ruined."

your wrists strained against the cuffs, desperate to touch him, to claw at his shoulders, to ground yourself.

but rafe wasn’t letting you have control, not even a little bit.

"gonna fill you up so good, you’ll be drippin’ with me for days."

your eyes fluttered shut, your body tensing as your orgasm crashed over you, waves of white-hot pleasure making your legs shake.

rafe wasn’t far behind. his grip turning bruising, his thrusts growing sloppy, desperate, until he was spilling inside you, a deep growl tearing from his throat as he buried himself to the hilt.

you stayed like that for a moment, panting, your bodies tangled together in the backseat of his squad car.

rafe finally pulled back, his lips curling into a smirk as he looked down at the mess between your thighs.

"yeah," he murmured, dragging his thumb along your jaw. "think you finally learned your lesson."

but the glint in his eye told you this wouldn’t be the last time you found yourself in his handcuffs.

@ rafesbows

[archivewriting]

Beneath the Sun SMAU

pairing: bf!rafe x gf!reader

instagram accounts if bf!rafe and gf!reader