#rafe cameron au

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

eyes on the prize

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

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

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

word count: 2626

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

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

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

“Jason,” he simply uttered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure? Because–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How bad?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[cameronsbabydoll]

IMAGINING HER GIVING HIM HEAD AND GETTING HER STRAWBERRY LIP GLOSS ALL OVER HIM AND HE CUMS SO FAST AND SHE DOESNT LAUGH OR MAKE FUN OF HIM SHE JUST KISSES HIM AND TELLS HIM HE DID SO GOOD AND HE DOESNT KNOW WHAT TO DO- AHHH

nerd!rafe getting head !

warnings: nsfw!! head (male receiving) sub rafe, he cums fast and is embarrassed

divider credits @bernardsbendystraws

wc: 347 — a/n: i’m so used to writing dom rafe

rafe’s sitting there, glasses fogged up and slipping down his nose, hands gripping the edge of his desk like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. he’s a mess already—cheeks flushed, breathing all uneven—and you’ve barely even started. you’re on your knees, that strawberry lip gloss shining on your lips, and when you lean in, he freezes like he’s short-circuiting. “you—uh—you don’t have to—” he stammers, but the words die fast when your mouth wraps around him.

it’s sloppy, it’s sweet—literally, that gloss smearing pink and sticky all over him, glistening in the dim light of his room. he’s trying so hard to keep it together, but you can feel him twitching, hear the little choked noises he’s making. his hands hover like he wants to touch you but doesn’t know if he’s allowed, so you grab one, press it to the back of your head, and he just loses it. thirty seconds in—tops—he’s gasping, “oh shit, i—i can’t—” and then he’s gone, spilling hard and fast, hips jerking like he’s never felt anything this good.

you pull back, lips slick and glossy, a little strawberry sheen left behind on him, and he’s staring down at you, mortified. his face is beet red, glasses crooked, and he’s already mumbling apologies—“i didn’t mean to, it’s just—god, i’m such a—” but you don’t let him finish. you climb up, straddling his lap, and kiss him deep, letting him taste the strawberry on your tongue. “you did so good, rafe,” you murmur against his mouth, soft and sincere, fingers threading through his messy hair.

he’s stunned, blinking at you like he can’t compute it—no teasing, no judgment, just you smiling all warm and pretty. his hands finally settle on your waist, tentative, like he’s testing if this is real. “i… uh… really?” he manages, voice small, and you nod, kissing his cheek, his jaw, leaving little glossy marks behind. he’s still reeling, doesn’t know what to do with himself, but that shy, dazed little smile creeping onto his face? that’s all you need to know that your his.

[sematarygirls]

   EX-CONVICT!BABYDADDY!RAFE x FEM!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ unprotected p in v, breeding kink if you squint, heavyyyy angst, rafe being an asshole (as per usual), brief mentions of guns/police raid and drugs

NOTES .ᐟ guys, i need him so bad, like actually. based on this concept from my silly little brain. dad!rafe stays in my mind 24/7, but this is me we're talking about, so of course, i had to put a lil spin on it. also this turned out way longer than i meant it to, woah

After almost four years, you were finally starting to feel like you were getting your shit together. You were living in a nice house in a nice neighborhood where everyone knew everyone—the kind of place where people literally asked their neighbors for cups of sugar. You had a stable job that allowed you to live comfortably and provide for yourself and your daughter, and you had a big St. Bernard, lovingly named Moonshine after you'd watched one too many episodes of Moonshiners, that provided a sense of safety and security when the nights were cold and the paranoia started to creep into your mind.

Being a single mom was not easy, and it definitely hadn't been a part of your life plan, but then, you met Rafe Cameron—the ever charming, sweet talking man that he was. He swept you up and made you feel like the only girl in the world, like nothing else mattered as long as you were by his side, so when you found out you were pregnant, you were over the moon at the idea of starting a family with him.

But Rafe Cameron was a liar. He was selfish and manipulative, and he turned your life right on it's head.

You could still remember the day the police kicked in the door of your apartment, bursting in with guns drawn, pointed directly at you. You were eight months pregnant and having a gun pointed at you—at your baby—made you physically ill.

They had raided the apartment and found copious amounts of drugs. Your heart dropped, and you immediately felt like an idiot. How had you not known? You knew he made more money than he realistically should have, but the thought never even crossed your mind that this could be the reason. You were heartbroken and angry. Angry that he had lied. Angry that he put you in this position. And, angry that he was leaving you.

Rafe was arrested, and eventually charged with possession with intent to distribute due to the amount of drugs they found, which resulted in a five year sentence. You were sad and angry, not only because you were losing the man you always thought was the love of your life, but also because now, you were alone, and your daughter wouldn't know her father for the first five years of her life.

This anger and resentment festered, mixing with longing and a deep, aching sadness. You couldn't bring yourself to answer his calls or letters, let alone visit him. You didn't know who he was anymore. The man that you saw sporting handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit at his trial was not the same man you fell in love with, and you wouldn't pretend like he was.

You had known Rafe's release date was approaching, but you were under the impression that you still had a little over a year to plan on what you were going to do when it finally came. That's why you were so unsuspecting when you went to answer the harsh knock at your door.

It was a Thursday night, and you were cuddled up on the couch with Moonshine, who was practically the size of you. A horror movie was playing on the TV before you, one you'd seen practically a million times, and every few minutes, your gaze would flicker to the baby monitor on the coffee table that displayed the feedback from a camera in your daughter, Rhiannon's, room.

You jumped a little at the harsh sound of a knock on your front door, the horror movie already having you on edge. You could be paranoid sometimes, especially being a single mom, so realistically, you knew you shouldn't have been watching it so late at night, but they were your guilty pleasures that you couldn't indulge in the light of day because of your toddler.

Moonshine immediately jumped up, a low growl escaping his throat as his hair stood on end. Your brows furrowed at his odd behavior, pausing the movie and unfurling yourself from your comfortable position. Your steps were soft on the hardwood, your socks cushioning the sound as you padded over to the front door, patting the dog's head comfortingly as you unlocked the door, completely unaware with what would greet you on the other side.

As you opened the door, the cool night air hit you, carrying with it the faint scent of cigarette smoke. You blinked in surprise, expecting to see a neighbor, but instead, you found yourself face to face with Rafe Cameron.

Your eyes widened, the air knocked from your lungs as you took him in. He was changed, broader and more imposing, his muscles flexing under his tight black t-shirt as he crossed his arms. His hair was buzzed, his chiseled jawline sporting stubble that made him look older, more mature.

He looked so different, but still, somehow, the same. You were hit by a wave of emotions—longing, love, sadness, but most presently, anger. Who did he think he was showing up unannounced in the middle of the night after all these years, especially looking so unapologetic and devastatingly handsome.

His piercing blue eyes bore into yours, captivating and dangerous like a wave pulling you under when you least expected it. "Hey, baby," he greeted, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping off his tongue. The term of endearment fell from his lips without any semblance of warmth as he stared at you with an intensity that made you want to shrink in on yourself.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, your jaw clenching and grip on the door's edge tightening. You shivered a little as the cold air bit at your bare skin, barely registering the low growls of Moonshine behind you due to your tunnel vision on the man standing before you.

He smirked confidently, knowing the effect he had on you—the effect he always had on you. His eyebrow arched as he took in your appearance, his eyes lingering on your bare thighs, courtesy of your pajama shorts. "Aren't you going to invite me in, sweetheart? It's been a long time." He took a step forward, his broad frame filling the doorway intimidatingly.

You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to step back and let him intimidate you into getting what he wanted. You craned your neck to look up at him, his close proximity looming over you, making him seem even taller and more imposing than he already was. "And whose fault is that?" You managed to say, despite the pit in your stomach—a mix of dread, anxiety, and strangely, desire.

Rafe's gaze sharpened, his eyes glinting dangerously. He uncrossed his arms and braced one hand on the doorframe beside your head, leaning in closer. It made your breath catch in your throat, but you held firm. You couldn't let him see that he was getting to you. "Let me in," he clenched his jaw. His anger at you for abandoning him in there had been bubbling up, and your defiance was bringing it to the surface.

A light flickering on in the house across the street caught your eye. Old lady Flanigan had a habit of making everyone else's business, her business, and she was a nasty gossip. Unless you wanted people talking, you either had to let him in or get him to leave, and one of those would be a nearly impossible feat. "Rafe, you can't be here. You can't just barge back into my life after all this time," you told him firmly, your own eyes blazing with a fiery intensity.

"And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. His body was practically vibrating with pent-up anger, his muscles taut as he leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your face. "Did you ever think about me? Did you ever think about what you did to us?"

"What I did?" You scoffed, anger bubbling up inside you at his accusation, blaming you as if he wasn't the one that went to prison and left you alone. "Are you fucking kidding me?" The old woman across the street was now shamelessly watching through her window, and you knew you had no choice but to let him in before her nosey ass called the cops on the strange, clearly out of place man lurking in the neighborhood.

He followed your eyes, looking over his shoulder to the nosy neighbor, his expression darkening. Without another word, he pushed past you, entering the house and forcing you to step back.

Your jaw clenched at his blatant disregard or respect for your wishes as you gently closed the door behind you. Moonshine barked, baring his teeth at the intruder, clearly sensing the tension and jumping into action to protect his family. "Moonshine, stop," you told him firmly. You were proud of him, but you didn't want his barking to wake Rhiannon. The last thing you could deal with right now was Rafe and a crying toddler. You could only focus on one temper tantrum at a time.

Rafe's eyes narrowed as he watched you control your dog, a muscle ticking in his jaw. His gaze then swept the interior of your home, taking in every detail as if memorizing it. "Nice place," he commented flatly, turning back to face you. "Where's my kid?"

You took a deep breath, your gaze hard at him calling your daughter his kid, like he had any right. He didn't even know her name or that she was a girl. "She's asleep," you told him, crossing your arms over your chest.

His piercing eyes bore into yours, unyielding. "Her name." he demanded gruffly.

"Rhiannon," you informed him hesitantly, your gaze darting to the monitor on the coffee table, making sure she was still asleep.

His expression flickered briefly, a flash of something softer, almost vulnerable, in his eyes before it was quickly concealed. He nodded once. "I want to see her." It wasn't a request. His posture remained tense and coiled, ready to react to your response.

You huffed, running a hand through your hair and heading to the kitchen with him hot on your heels. Maybe you wanted to busy yourself. Maybe you wanted an excuse not to have to look at him. Maybe you just wanted to walk away from him, to assert some kind of power. Either way, your next words were spoken with your back to him. "I told you. She's asleep. It's the middle of the fucking night, Rafe, what did you expect?"

He followed you into the kitchen, his presence overwhelming in the small space. The air felt charged, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. "I don't give a fuck what time it is," he growled, his voice low and intense. "I've missed four years of her life already."

You rounded the kitchen island, planting your hands on it as you turned to face him, feeling more comfortable with the counter between you. Not because you were scared of him but because, despite yourself and despite your anger, you longed to touch him and have him touch you. "And whose fucking fault is that, huh?" You asked angrily, echoing your earlier words that he had ignored.

Rafe's expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he stared back at you. The muscle in his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth together, trying to rein in his anger. "Yours," he bit out. "You left me in there," he accused.

"You left me out here!" Your voice raised slightly before you caught yourself, letting out a hard breath. The only way you could keep yourself from getting sad, from crying over the loss of the only man you'd ever truly loved, was getting angry at him.

"You think I wanted to go to prison?" He hissed, rounding the island and backing you against the counter. "You think I had a fucking choice?"

"You did have a choice," you said sharply, bracing your hands on the counter behind you as you stared up at him. "You chose to deal drugs, and you chose to keep dealing even after you found out I was pregnant. Prison was just the consequence of all your shitty choices."

His hand came up, slamming on the cabinet beside your head, the sound making you jump slightly. "And what about you?" He seethed, his chest heaving as his breath came in short, angry bursts. "What about your choices, huh? You could've waited for me."

"I did what I had to do," you said, glaring at him. You weren't quite sure what else to say. You had to protect yourself, your own feelings, and your child. You couldn't have stayed in touch, sick with worry every night while you soothed a colicky baby all by yourself. You had to forget him; it was better that way, easier.

"What you had to do," he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm and the faintest hint of hurt. "You moved on pretty quick, didn't you? Found some new dick to warm your bed, is that it?"

"Fuck you," you spat, the words stabbing you like a knife to the heart. You hadn't been able to bring yourself to even look at another man since he went away. You told yourself it was just because of Rhiannon, that you were focusing on raising her and being the best mother you could be, but deep down, you knew it was because your heart would always belong to Rafe.

"Is that it?" he repeated, his face inches from yours. His voice was low, his eyes searching yours for something. "You found some other man to replace me?"

"Maybe I have," you said stubbornly. You knew you were being petty, wanting him to hurt like you hurt, but you also knew you were a shit liar, so there was no way in hell he would actually believe you. "Maybe I have moved on."

His other hand shot out, gripping your chin roughly as he forced you to look at him. "Bullshit," he growled, looking down at you, his blue eyes darkened. "I can see it in your eyes. You haven't moved on to shit."

You stared up at him defiantly, your chest heaving with anger, which only intensified when you felt the wetness between your thighs. Even after all this time, all it took was a look and a simple touch to get you so wet, and as much as you hated it, you couldn't deny that something about his post-prison appearance—how rugged and large he was—made your knees week.

His hand tightened on your chin as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a brutal, demanding kiss. It was clear he was angry, punishing you for the words you'd spoken, and you knew you should've pushed him away—yelled at him and told him to get the fuck out of your house—but you didn't.

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him with an intensity that matched the war going on within you—the jumbled mess of love and hate that he had brought up within you.

He groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your face roughly as he devoured your mouth. He pushed you further back against the counter that was now digging into your lower back, his body pinning you in place. You could feel his anger, his frustration, his desperation, and it only fueled your own emotions.

The kiss was raw and charged with a passionate mix of need, longing, and pure, unbridled anger, both of you trying to show the other that this wasn't a surrender of power or giving into the other and accepting blame. The kiss itself was an argument, a fight all of its own that didn't require words.

He hands went to your hips, lifting you onto the counter and stepping between your parted legs. Tearing his mouth from yours, he began kissing along your jawline and down the column of your throat. His lips were hot and insistent, his teeth nipping at your skin as he continued to mark you.

You panted, your chest heaving for an entirely different reason now as you let out soft gasps and breathy sounds of approval, your head falling back against the cabinet behind your head. You had forgotten how good he was with his mouth, always knowing exactly how to drive you wild.

He took advantage of the exposed column of your throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the counter. You let out a low moan, your nails raking against his buzzed scalp. As sexy as he looked with a buzzcut, you wished you could run your fingers through his hair, tugging on it slightly everytime he touched you just right.

"Mmm," he hummed against your skin, his voice a low vibration that seemed to go straight to your core. He kissed his way back up to your mouth, his hips pushing forward to press his hardness against your core. "Did you forget how good I am, baby?"

You internally rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, like he had won. "God, do you ever shut up?" You asked, sounding less annoyed and effective since you were still breathless from his kisses.

His hips thrust forward again, making an involuntary whine fall from your lips at the feeling. "Not when I'm right." He smirked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His smirk was as frustratingly handsome as it had always been, and it made you want to smack him and kiss him all at once. "And I am."

"Don't be a dickhead," you glared at him, his arrogance and your own unyielding need for him only heightening your frustration. You were desperate and aching for him, but you refused to give in and beg him like you wanted to.

"Then quit acting like you're not soaking wet for me." His grip on your thighs tightened, calloused fingers digging into the soft flesh. "I bet if I slipped my hand into your shorts, I'd find you drenched and ready for me, wouldn't I?"

His smug tone infuriated you and turned you on all at once. "Shut up, Rafe," you demanded, balling your fist into the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer, so you could press your lips to his, forcing him to shut up and quit pissing you off.

Your grip on his shirt loosened, hand sliding down his hard, muscular chest to his waistband. You had always seen the trope of guys working out their frustrations in prison movies, but you didn't know that was actually a thing. Your fingers fumbled with his belt as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, sliding it along yours in a way that had you moaning against his lips

He groaned low in his throat as you finally worked the belt buckle open, sliding the leather through the loops and dropping it to the floor with a clank. His hands immediately slid up your thighs, hooking into the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down your legs—with the help of you awkwardly shifting to lift your ass enough to do so.

He discarded the garments to the floor with his belt, his palms running along your bare thighs as he parted your legs wider, opening you to him. His calloused fingertips brushed against your center, feeling your slick folds, making you gasp into his mouth. "Told you," he grinned against your lips, finding it in himself to be a complete dick, even when he was about to be inside you.

"Asshole," you mumbled, fingers deftly popping open the button of his jeans and unzipping them. You hooked your fingers in his waistband, shoving his pants and underwear down as he had done to you.

He kicked his pants and boxers off the rest of the way, stepping between your thighs again. His hard cock was flushed, the tip glistening with precum. He gripped himself at the base, rubbing the head through your slick folds teasingly. "What was that, baby?"

Your breath caught in your throat. "Just put your dick inside me before I kill you," you threatened him, though you both knew you wouldn't do anything, not really.

He chuckled lowly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "You want it so bad, don't you?" He teased, his tip nudging against your entrance but not pushing inside. "Beg for it, baby. Let me hear how much you need my cock." He didn't need to be angry when he could punish you like this. He knew begging was the last thing you wanted to do, but he also knew that you'd do it.

"Don't piss me off right now, Rafe," you gritted your teeth, the feeling of him against your entrance making you dizzy with desire.

"Or what, baby? You'll what?" He pressed against you again, the tip of his cock pushing inside just slightly before pulling back out. "Tell me what you'll do if I don't give you what you want." He was pushing your buttons, knowing exactly how to make you snap.

You practically whimpered at the feeling of him pulling out. "Fuck- fine, please, Rafe," you panted, furious with yourself and him that you were giving into him. "Please just fuck me already."

The confident, victorious smirk that instantly appeared on his face had you wanting to slap him. "Now was that so hard?" He condescend. Your annoyed retort died in your throat as he finally pushed into you, making you moan, your head falling back against the cupboard at the feeling of him inside you after so long.

He groaned as your tight heat enveloped him, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to bruise as he started to move. His body tensed, using every ounce of his self control not to cum on the spot. Four years of fucking himself in his hand was nothing compared to the way you were squeezing him right now.

One hand moved up to your mouth, muffling your growing moans and whines. "Shh," he cooed. You were thankful for it. You knew you had to be quiet, but the way he was pounding into you made it nearly impossible.

"Did you miss me, baby?" He leaned down, breathing hotly against your neck as he nipped at your throat. "Did you lay awake at night thinking about me stretching you like this?" He flexed his hips, driving deep inside you.

You nodded, letting out a muffled "mhm" against his palm as your back arched into him. He felt so good, better than you'd remembered, and you hadn't had sex in four years, so you were so worked up.

"Good," he purred, his teeth scraping against your skin as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. "Because I missed you too, baby. Missed this tight little cunt wrapped around my dick." The hand on your thigh dipped down between your legs, his calloused thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

You gasped against his palm, your eyes rolling back at the mix of sensations. You were already so pathetically close, feeling that familiar aching deep within you.

He could feel your weepy cunt starting to flutter around him, and he was more than glad that you were so close so quickly because he didn't know how much longer he could hold back. "Gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy, baby. Gonna get you pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna miss a damn thing"

His words turned you on more than they should have, snapping that coil inside you and sending you over the edge. You tensed around his dick, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you cried out his name.

"Shit, baby," he groaned, burying his face into your neck, his facial hair tickling your skin as he pushed himself deep inside you, painting your insides white with his release. His breath was hot against your already heated skin, a thin layer of sweat coating both your bodies as he slowly softened inside you.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath, his hand falling from your mouth to brace himself on the counter. You couldn't believe that after all these years of promising yourself you wouldn't let him back into your life, you had so easily opened your legs and even let him cum inside you—because clearly that worked out so well for you last time.

He stayed buried inside you for a moment, enjoying the warmth and the feeling of finally being home where he belonged. He eventually pulled out, his softening dick slipping from your tender cunt.

You had to tell him that he couldn't stay, that it would confuse Rhiannon to wake up to a strange man in the house, but you didn't know how, not after what just happened.

He stepped back, allowing you to get down from the counter. A silence fell over both of you as you got dressed, neither one knowing what happens now. He finished buttoning up his jeans, his eyes flicking up to you as he ran a hand over his buzzed head. "So... what now?" He asked gruffly, breaking the silence.

"You can't- you have to go," you told him, pulling your shorts back up and crossing your arms. It seemed unfair to say such a thing after sharing such an intimate moment, but you needed to think of your daughter. She didn't even know who Rafe was.

"You're kicking me out?" He echoed, as if he couldn't believe it. "After... that?" He gestured vaguely, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, both of you finding yourselves right back where you started. "You cant just... be here. Rhiannon doesn't even know who you are." The words seemed cruel as soon as they left your lips, but they were true. You wished they weren't, but they were.

"I know. Fuck, I know that. Don't you think I know that?" He was frustrated, your words like a slap to the face. "But goddamn it, I want to know her. I want to be a part of her life."

"I'm not saying you can't be, but... she's four, Rafe. She's old enough that you can't just walk in and call yourself her father," you told him firmly. "It's going to take time. I don't want to overwhelm her."

"Time?" He asked incredulously. Deep down, he knew you were right, that you were doing what was best, but he was so angry at himself, and instead of facing that anger and acknowledging that this was his own doing, he was taking it out on you. "I've already missed four fucking years. First steps, first words, first everythings."

"I can't keep going in circles with you, Rafe," you ran your hand through your hair, utterly exhausted. "You do this my way, or you don't do this at all." It hurt you to be so cold. You wanted Rhiannon to know her father, but she was just a kid. She wouldn't understand why her dad just showed up out of the blue, and you didn't know how to explain it to her.

He stared at you, his face unreadable. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. Then, he spoke, his voice low. "Alright. Fine. Your way. But you better not shut me out again. I'm not gonna miss anymore. Understand?"

You nodded, thankful that he was going to stop fighting you on this. "Do you have a-a number or something?" You asked, unsure how long he'd been out, if he got his phone back and was able to pay the bill or if he bought a burner. You didn't even know where he was staying.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "It's the same as my old one," he said gruffly, clearly annoyed by your previous ultimatum.

"Right, okay," you nodded, your fingers drumming against your upper arm. You two stood in silence for a long moment. Rafe didn't want to leave, and you didn't want to tell him to.

Rafe's gaze fell to the floor, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. "Can I see her before I go?" He asked softly. "Just... just to see her."

There was a shift in his demeanor, a vulnerability about him that told you he really did care about Rhiannon, even if he'd never met her. "Yeah," you found yourself nodding, turning to lead him to her room. As you entered the living room, you could've sworn Moonshine was giving a disapproving side eye. "Don't judge me," you mumbled.

He followed you down the hallway, his heavy boots thudding on the floor. He paused in the doorway of Rhiannon's room, looking in on her sleeping form. She was curled up on her side in a princess toddler bed, her little arms wrapped around a stuffed cat. Rafe's expression softened as he took her in.

His eyes swept over the room, the nightlight plugged into the wall illuminating the space. The walls were painted a light shade of pink, toys strewn about. A small bookshelf sat tucked in the corner, various children's books inside, some sitting on the floor in front of it.

He stepped into the room, moving closer to the bed. He crouched down, his eyes fixed on Rhiannon's sleeping face as he reached out, his large hand gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "She's so little," he murmured softly, almost reverently.

You leaned on the doorway, a small, sad smile pulling at your lips as you watched the exchange. You found yourself wondering what life would have been like if Rafe never got locked up, your heart aching as you thought about sharing all of Rhiannon's firsts with someone, bickering over whether she would've said mommy or daddy first. The wobbly first steps, the soothing and band-aid applications after she scraped her knees. What would it have been like to share those moments with him?

Rafe's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She's beautiful." He turned his head to look at you, and you saw the sheen of moisture in his eyes. He blinked it away quickly, clearing his throat as he stood, masking his emotions as he always had. "I should go."

You hesitated, for a moment wanting to throw everything you'd said out the window and tell him to stay, but you knew you couldn't. You just nodded, letting him push past you. You didn't move from your spot, even after you heard the front door open and shut. You simply closed your eyes, leaning your head against the doorframe as a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

[inspiredangel]

Hey luv can we get smth for hockey player!rafe where he wants his girl to wear his jersey for his games but she thinks it might be too much and rafes just annoyedly cute tysm

HOCKEY PLAYER! RAFE ✸ wants you to wear his jersey

summary: rafe really wants you to wear his jersey, but you think it’s corny.

“babe, cmon, pretty please.” he whined again for what felt like the millionth time.

he was bitching about you wearing his jersey to his game, since you never do, and all of his other teammates girlfriends wear their jerseys, so he thinks you have to aswell.

the thing is; you think it’s really really corny.

you always try to explain it to him that just because you don’t wear his jersey doesn’t mean your supporting him any less.

but he’s stubborn as hell, and wont stop complaining about it.

you let out a huff and turn around to face him “Rafe, i told you i don’t like doing that.” you shrugged, which caused a pout to immediately grow on his face.

he huffed, and crossed his arms over his chest “Please. just this once.” his eyes sparkling with hope as he took a step closer to you, practically pleading.

you rolled your eyes, trying your best not to give in, but something about the way he was looking at you made your resolve start to crumble.

he knew exactly how to play you, and damn it, you hated how effective it was.

"Rafe, you're impossible," you muttered, but despite yourself, you reached for the jersey that was draped over the chair.

he grinned, his eyes lighting up like he'd just won the lottery.

"Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he cheered, practically bouncing on his feet as you slipped the jersey over your head.

you crossed your arms, still holding onto your sense of reluctance. "But this doesn’t mean I’m going to start wearing it all the time. Just today. Got it?"

he shrugged, and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek “got it.” he smiled softly.

a/n — this is short and sweet :))) but i needed to post something, so enjoy this for now, even tho its really bad🥲🫶🏼

⸝⸝⸝ @marrykisskilled @chrislilcumslvt @sosasturns @cyberskulzzz @slut4chris888 @waitforyrlove @sturnioloangell @slctsblogana @anyaa2s @emely9274 @shadowthesim @frankoceanfanpage @mrsarnold @freshloveee @t0riiiis @jetaimevous @sturn777 @sturniologirlzz @venusbabysblog @ch6rm @sturniolossss @mattsbrowser @sturnlsstuff @chrissweetheart @lizzyzzn @sophand4n4

[kissylec]

LOVE YOU GOODBYE ──── a rafe cameron smau.

a social media au by kissylec

if tomorrow you won't be mine, won't you give it to me one last time?... being a secret is hard, and even more when prince kook himself is the one hiding you. a bittersweet wheel of emotions comes to you when you decide to put an end to a situationship that is hurting you, not taking into account how difficult it would be to get away from the oldest of the cameron siblings.

pairing . . . rafe cameron x pogue!reader warning .ᐟ . . . inspired by love you goodbye by one direction, obx spoilers, half canon half not, curse words, angst, sexual innuendo, allusion to smut, forbidden love, rafe is kind of an ass, reader is friends with the pogues, english is not my first language so bear with me kissylec says . . . SO NERVOUS OMG, this is my first smau so i'm scareddd. i'm new to all of this so pls be patient with me 😿 again, english it's not my first language so 😆🙏 i will be posting some chapters later in the week, hope you guys like it 🫶💐

masterlist .ᐟ 𝜗𝜚 navigation .ᐟ

TAGLIST IS CLOSED.

chapter one. chapter two.

chapter three. chapter four.

chapter five. chapter six.

chapter seven. chapter eight.

chapter nine. chapter ten.

chapter eleven. chapter twelve.

chapter thirteen. chapter fourteen.

chapter fifteen. chapter sixteen.

chapter seventeen. chapter eighteen.

chapter nineteen. chapter twenty.

chapter twenty-one. chapter twenty-two.

chapter twenty-three. chapter twenty-four.

chapter twenty-five. chapter twenty-six.

chapter twenty-seven. chapter twenty-eight.

chapter twenty-nine. chapter thirty.

extras . . . I. II.

© KISSYLEC. 2025 — please do not plagiarize, repost, translate or claim any of my work as your own.

[nemesyaaa]

ughhhh i love reading long chapters in my way to works plsss !!! the 4,7k words feels too good to be true !! i needed to read the previous chapter bc i kinda forget what happened but it was alyssa/rafe LMFAOOO and the introducing of kelce. fear we are fed with jealousy 😫😫 the first picture makes me miss the golden era of obx (its not gonna be the same anymore plsss)

“He’s funny. Loves to travel, so much so that he became a travel agent. He loves soccer. He’s really creative, always took me on the weirdest dates you could imagine.” Her voice softens and without realizing it, a small smile tugs at her lips. — i know someone's heart is dying on the inside </3 we are with u man

“I’m with Topper.” Sarah says, glancing at Topper who gives Kelce a brief nod. “Kiara’s with Pope, Cleo’s with John B, Maddy’s with JJ.” She continues. Kelce nods, then looks straight at Y/N. — topper/sarah 🥴🥴 cleo with john b never fail to amaze me. jj's watch your girl pls

“It was fun. Kelce is handsome and yeah, he’s got charm, but…” She hesitates. “I don’t know. He came off kinda arrogant? Like, it felt like he was showing off and I hate that.” — LMFAOOO still in his kook mode

“I mean, they’re all beautiful, no doubt about that.” He says and the guys nod in agreement. “But I had a really great time with Maddy. She’s…man, she’s gorgeous. And funny as hell, too.” His grin widens as he talks about her, the memory of their time together still fresh. — ok kelce ??? 👀

“Come on, sweetheart.” He murmurs. Y/N giggles before leaning in, her lips brushing his. Rafe cups her face, deepening the kiss as her hand settles against his chest. When they finally pull back, breathless, she smiles up at him. Her eyes catch the shine on his lips and she instinctively reaches up, wiping away the remnants of her lip gloss. — so we're back 😫😫😫😫 and i have an hurtful migraine

Love Island: Episode 4

series masterlist

pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader

words: 4.7k

warnings: sexual innuendos, alcohol consumption, cuss words

A heavy silence settles over the group as everyone turns to stare at Y/N.

“What are you talking about?” Rafe asks, his brows furrowing. Y/N swallows, her eyes flicking between the people around her before landing back on the boy hugging Maddy below. She exhales sharply.

“That’s…my ex.”

“Holy shit!” JJ blurts out, earning a smack from John B, who looks just as stunned. Alyssa and Pope are too busy staring at the date happening downstairs, but the rest of the group is locked onto Y/N.

“How long ago did you two break up?” Topper asks, his gaze darting toward Rafe, who is eerily quiet.

“Like a year.” She reveals. Alyssa scoffs, finally looking away from the scene below.

“Crocs? Seriously?” She wrinkles her nose as she gestures toward Kelce’s choice of footwear. Despite the tension twisting in her chest, Y/N finds herself smiling, shaking her head at Alyssa’s reaction. JJ leans forward, curiosity getting the best of him.

“What’s he like?” He pauses, then adds quickly. “I mean, like…you know what I mean.” Y/N shifts on her feet, suddenly feeling the weight of everyone’s attention. She exhales.

“He’s funny. Loves to travel, so much so that he became a travel agent. He loves soccer. He’s really creative, always took me on the weirdest dates you could imagine.” Her voice softens and without realizing it, a small smile tugs at her lips.

Rafe clenches his jaw. He watches the way Y/N’s expression softens, the way her lips curve when she talks about Kelce. It’s not even what she’s saying, it’s how she’s saying it. There’s a warmth in her voice, a familiarity that Rafe can’t compete with.

It pisses him off.

He shouldn't care. He shouldn’t feel this tightness in his chest at the thought of Y/N and Kelce, of all the time they had before he even entered the picture. He knows it’s stupid. It’s not like she’s his. Not officially, anyway.

But fuck, he wants her to be.

He watches her, torn between wanting to pull her away and hating that he even feels this way in the first place.

When she finally turns back toward him, it’s like she can feel the weight of his stare. Her brows furrow slightly.

“You okay?” She asks, her voice gentle. Rafe forces a smirk.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” She studies him for a second longer before nodding.

“No reason.” She doesn’t push and that’s what kills him.

Because maybe, deep down, a part of him wants her to push. To tell him she doesn’t want Kelce anymore, that he has nothing to worry about. That she’s his, even though they’ve never actually said those words out loud.

Instead, he just watches as she looks back toward Kelce, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.

And Rafe feels that sharp twist in his chest again.

“Why’d you break up?” John B asks.

“That's not a nice thing to ask.” Sarah nudges him.

“No, it’s fine.” Y/N shakes her head. “We just wanted different things.” John B nods in understanding, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I get that.” He murmurs.

Rafe doesn’t say a word. He barely moves, but Y/N can feel his stare burning into her. His arms are crossed now, fingers gripping his biceps a little too tightly. His gaze flickers between her and Kelce.

The dates finish and soon enough, the islanders head downstairs to meet Kelce. JJ, John B and Pope are the first to approach, radiating their usual friendly, easygoing energy as they introduce themselves. Topper and Rafe follow, but there’s an undeniable shift in the atmosphere. There’s something about the way they move, less welcoming. When Kelce shakes Rafe’s hand, Rafe tightens his grip just a little too much. But Kelce doesn’t even flinch. He holds his ground, just as confident as ever.

The girls follow behind, Kiara’s fingers wrapped around Y/N’s hand as they walk through the flower corridor toward the yard. Sarah steps forward, greeting Kelce with a hug. But when she pulls back, something changes.

Kelce’s wide eyes flick to Y/N.

“No way!” He murmurs. Y/N smiles softly, already anticipating what’s coming.

“Yes way.” She mutters. Kelce doesn’t hesitate as he rushes toward her, sweeping her off the ground in a tight hug. Y/N squeals, clinging to him instinctively. It’s warm, familiar. When he sets her down, his hands linger at her waist and his eyes search hers.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“The right question is, what are you doing here?” She teases, shoving him playfully. Maddy, watching the exchange unfold, furrows her brows.

“Uh…what is going on?” She glances toward Rafe, who still hasn’t moved. His arms remain crossed, jaw visibly tightening.

“That’s Y/N’s ex.” Rafe announces flatly, making Maddy’s eyes widen.

“What?”

“Wait…he is Kelce? Like, Kelce Kelce?” Cleo interjects. “Your ex Kelce?”

Y/N nods.

“You talk about me?” Kelce asks, smirking.

“Oh my god, not like that.” Y/N groans, rolling her eyes as she shoves him again. He stumbles back slightly, clutching his chest in mock offense.

Noticing the tension radiating off Rafe like a ticking time bomb, Pope clears his throat.

“Hey, why don’t we all move to the firepit?” He suggests, trying to redirect the energy. “Let Kelce get to know everyone.”

The group shuffles over, settling in with the boys on one side, the girls on the other and Kelce in the middle.

“So, what do you guys wanna know?” Kelce asks, fiddling with his mic. He’s still getting used to it and Maddy, sitting beside him, leans in to adjust it properly. He shoots her a grateful smile.

“Y/N already gave us the rundown, so I think we’re all set, bro.” JJ says casually.

The moment the words leave his mouth, Pope smacks him.

“JJ, what the fuck?” Kiara hisses, while Y/N lets out a strangled noise and buries her face in her hands.

“What?” JJ rubs his chest, looking genuinely confused. “I’m just saying-”

“Don’t.” Alyssa interjects, rolling her eyes. “Anyway. What are you looking for in the villa?” Kelce exhales, thinking for a second.

“Honestly, this past year’s been a lot of growth for me. I feel like…our breakup really changed me.” He admits, glancing at Y/N.

That gets her attention. She slowly lowers her hands, meeting his gaze. For a second, nobody moves. The world stops spinning.

Then, Rafe clears his throat.

“You, uh…didn’t actually answer Alyssa.” Rafe mutters, scratching the back of his head. Topper lets out a barely contained snicker. Kelce blinks, then nods.

“Right. Right. Okay, yeah. I want something real. A committed relationship. I wanna find my person. Someone I can have fun with, travel with-”

“You’re a travel agent, right?” John B cuts in, smirking and Kelce laughs.

“Yeah. Y/N told you?” He throws her a knowing look before redirecting. “But enough about me. Who’s coupled up with who?”

“I’m with Topper.” Sarah says, glancing at Topper who gives Kelce a brief nod. “Kiara’s with Pope, Cleo’s with John B, Maddy’s with JJ.” She continues. Kelce nods, then looks straight at Y/N.

“And you’re with Rafe?” He asks. Everyone’s gaze lands on her.

“Um…it’s complicated.” Y/N admits, shifting in her seat. “I was coupled up with him and things were going good between us. Still are! But-”

“Alyssa coupled up with him.” Pope finishes for her.

“Guilty!” Alyssa grins, raising her hand. A few chuckles ripple through the group, but Rafe isn’t amused. His gaze stays locked on Y/N, watching the way she keeps sneaking glances at Kelce. The way her fingers fidget. The way she looks at him. He knows that look. It’s the same one that’s been driving him crazy since she first stepped into the villa.

“So, you’re the only single one, huh?” Kelce teases, smirking.

“Kelce…” Y/N groans, rolling her eyes with a small smile.

“What? Just stating facts.” He lifts his hands in surrender. Then, his smirk softens into something more thoughtful.

“Listen, I’m happy for you. I really am. I’m moving on, too.” His voice is easy, but there’s something unreadable behind it.

“And hey, this goes for all of you. I’m not here to step on anyone’s toes.” A beat passes. “But, you know…if something’s meant to happen, it’ll happen. That's how the game works.”

Everyone nods and Rafe wonders if he’s the only one who hears the double meaning in those words.

Soon enough, the girls head inside to gossip with Maddy and Cleo about the dates, leaving the boys to get to know Kelce.

“Okay, spill!” Sarah says to Maddy, sitting down on her bed and pulling a pillow to cuddle. Y/N sits beside her, still unsettled by the whole situation.

“I will, but Y/N, are you alright?” Maddy asks and the girls turn to look at her. Y/N glances around like a lost puppy before nodding quickly.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course. Everything is fine. Totally fine.” She exclaims.

“Say it one more time and we might actually believe you.” Kiara says, rolling her eyes. Y/N sighs.

“It's just…this was really unexpected.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “And he just seemed so…mature. So different from back then.”

“Like he grew up?” Cleo asks cautiously and Y/N nods.

“Yeah. I don’t know. It’s not like we had a messy breakup or anything. It’s just…” She takes a deep breath and Sarah reaches over to hold her hand.

“You don’t have to talk about it. Breakups, even mutual ones, hurt.” Sarah says gently and the girls nod, ready to comfort her.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Y/N reassures them. “When Kelce and I broke up, it felt like my whole world ended. I struggled a lot with being on my own because I was so dependent on him. It took me a long time to find my footing and become the person I am now. And seeing him again like this…it just made me wonder if it was as hard for him as it was for me.” She exhales, pressing her lips together for a moment.

“And not in a bitter way, like, ‘Oh, I hope he suffered.’” She clarifies quickly.

“It’s just…I loved him. I still have so much love for him. But if it didn’t hurt him like it hurt me…if he just moved on without a second thought, then what does that say about what we had? Or-or about me?” She lets the words linger in the air, staring at the blanket bunched up in her lap. The weight of her own thoughts makes her chest tighten.

“I know it’s selfish.” She continues, her voice quieter now. “I want him to be happy, I really do. But there’s a part of me that hopes it wasn’t easy for him. That it meant something. Because if it didn’t…if I was the only one who struggled, then maybe I was just easy to forget.”

The room is silent for a beat before Kiara scoffs, shaking her head.

“Y/N, that’s not how love works.” She says firmly. “Just because someone handles pain differently doesn’t mean they didn’t feel it. He could’ve been hurting just as much, just in his own way.”

“Exactly.” Cleo agrees. “And, honestly? You don’t owe it to your past self to keep wondering. You made it through. That’s what matters.”

Y/N lets their words settle, nodding slowly. She wants to believe them. Wants to believe that just because Kelce looks like he’s moved on, it doesn’t mean what they had wasn’t real. That it doesn’t mean she was the only one who lost something. Sarah gives her hand a small squeeze.

“It’s okay to feel this way. Just, don’t let it take away from how far you’ve come.” She exclaims and Y/N swallows past the lump in her throat, forcing a small smile.

“Yeah. You’re right.” She just wishes it was that easy.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Alyssa asks cautiously. Y/N fidgets with her ring, avoiding their gazes.

“I don’t know.” She mutters.

“You don’t have to.” Maddy says quickly. Y/N exhales, forcing a small grin.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I can avoid him in here.” She pauses, then backtracks. “Wait, no-I didn’t mean it like I am or was trying to avoid him. Outside of here, I mean.” Sarah chuckles, squeezing her hand.

“We get what you’re saying.” Then she makes a face. “Why is your hand so sweaty, dude?” Y/N jerks her hand back, wiping it on the blanket.

“Oh my god, sorry.” The girls giggle as she huffs dramatically.

“Look, unless he wants to talk, I don’t have anything to say to him.” She continues. “I’m moving on. I have a good thing going with-” She suddenly stops, eyes widening. “Oh my god. Did you see how Rafe reacted?”

The girls immediately nod.

“He was about to explode when he found out.” Alyssa says, shaking her head.

“Man, I wish I saw that.” Cleo groans.

“Wait, wait, we’re getting sidetracked.” Y/N says, holding up a hand. “We should really be talking about your dates.” The girls nod in agreement, the conversation shifting as Maddy and Cleo start recounting their dates with Kelce.

“He was so sweet. Like, actually listening to me, paying attention. It just felt different.” Maddy says, playing with a loose thread on the blanket.

“Ooh, someone’s got a crush!” Alyssa sing-songs and the girls erupt into playful cheers. Maddy rolls her eyes.

“I do not. I just…had a good time, that’s all.” She insists.

“Yeah, okay.” Sarah smirks. “You haven’t looked this excited since we got here. JJ’s never had you smiling like that.”

The girls hum in agreement.

“How are things with JJ, anyway?” Kiara asks, leaning into Alyssa.

“Uh…nice, I guess.” Maddy says, eyes flicking down to her nails.

“Not as nice as with Kelce.” Cleo teases, nudging her. Maddy shakes her head.

“No, no, it’s not like that. JJ’s funny, obviously super hot, but…I don’t know, I don’t think we really get each other.” She pauses, thinking. “Kelce, he just got here, but the vibe with him is…different.”

“Good different?” Y/N prompts.

“Really good different.” Maddy admits, nodding. “But I don’t know. I still need to think about it. And for all I know, he had more chemistry with Cleo.”

“Nope.” Cleo says immediately. Maddy raises an eyebrow.

“What do you mean? How was your date?” She asks and Cleo sighs.

“It was fun. Kelce is handsome and yeah, he’s got charm, but…” She hesitates. “I don’t know. He came off kinda arrogant? Like, it felt like he was showing off and I hate that.”

The girls exchange looks.

“I mean, I’m not writing him off completely.” Cleo continues. “I just wanna see how he acts in the next few days before I decide.”

They all nod, understanding.

“Do what feels right for you. For both of you.” Y/N adds.

Meanwhile, the guys are grilling Kelce, sizing him up as they try to figure out his intentions in the villa.

“So, Kelce, right?” Rafe leans back against the firepit, arms crossed, exuding confidence as he speaks. His tone is casual, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s already trying to get a read on him. Kelce nods, offering a relaxed smile, but he knows exactly where this is going.

“Anyone caught your eye? Up till now, at least?” Rafe asks, the question hanging in the air just a second too long. Kelce chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He’s been in enough of these conversations to know what Rafe’s really asking. His eyes flicker toward him, measuring his expression before he answers.

“Look, man, if this is about Y/N, you don’t have to worry. I loved her and I’ll always respect our relationship, but it ended a long time ago. I’m not here to rewrite history or stir anything up. She’s moved on and so have I. Whatever’s going on between you two, that’s got nothing to do with me.” He pauses.

There’s no malice in his voice, no challenge, just honesty. A quiet confidence that says he’s not here to start drama. Whether Rafe believes him, though, is a different story.

“So, if you’re asking whether you should be watching your back, there’s no need to. Not because of me.” Kelce says, his tone even.

Rafe holds his gaze for a moment before nodding, seemingly satisfied, for now. John B clears his throat, cutting through the tension.

“Alright, but be honest, man. What did you think of the girls? Anyone catch your eye?” He asks, making Kelce chuckle and glance around.

“I mean, they’re all beautiful, no doubt about that.” He says and the guys nod in agreement. “But I had a really great time with Maddy. She’s…man, she’s gorgeous. And funny as hell, too.” His grin widens as he talks about her, the memory of their time together still fresh.

“Cleo’s great, don’t get me wrong.” He continues, his tone shifting slightly. “But something felt a little off during our date. Maybe it was just a bit awkward, I don’t know. Could’ve just been first-date nerves. Time will tell, I guess.”

The boys nod before they decide to show Kelce around the villa.

The night unfolds quickly and soon it’s party time for the islanders. The girls make their way downstairs, glammed up and glowing under the villa lights. As they step into the bedroom where the guys are getting ready, whistles and cheers erupt.

“Damn, looking good, mamas!” Kelce calls out, grinning and the girls laugh, twirling playfully before heading outside.

A table set with champagne flutes awaits them, the warm night air buzzing with energy. They each grab a glass as Topper lifts his in a toast.

“To our newest islander! Hope it’s a good summer for you, Kelso!” He announces, flashing a smirk. Kelce clinks his glass against Topper’s, eyes glinting with excitement.

“Oh, it’s gonna be a great one.” He replies, as the group cheers and takes a sip. Y/N adjusts her dress with her free hand, scanning the scene before her gaze lands on Rafe across the table. Taking a breath, she steps toward him.

“Hey.” She says softly. Rafe looks down at her, his expression unreadable. He nods in acknowledgment but doesn’t say anything.

“Can we talk?” She asks, her brows furrowing slightly. Rafe exhales, noticing the concern in her eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah. Let’s.” He mutters, placing a hand on her waist as he guides her toward the daybed. They settle beside each other, Y/N’s fingers immediately finding the ring on her hand, twisting it absentmindedly.

“You do know I had no clue he was coming in here, right?” She says, glancing at him. Rafe sighs, rubbing his temples.

“I know. Of course, I know.” His voice is firm but tired. She studies him, hesitating before pressing further.

“Then…can you say something? Tell me how you feel? I just…I don’t know. You’re upset.”

“What do you want me to say?” Rafe snaps, his voice sharper than he intends. “How else am I supposed to feel? Of course, I’m upset.” Y/N exhales slowly, nodding.

“Okay and I get it. But don’t shut me out. You haven’t said a word to me since the terrace.” She drops her gaze, still fidgeting with her ring. Rafe watches her and something tightens in his chest. He runs a hand over his face before sighing.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N.” His voice softens. “I’m not mad at you. Or him. He actually seems like a decent dude. But…” He hesitates, taking a deep breath. “The thought of you and him. It's just…knowing he’s been with you, that he knows you like that…” His jaw clenches. “I know I’m probably overreacting or-or that I shouldn’t feel like this. But I can’t help it.”

“You’re not overreacting.” She assures him, shaking her head. “Jealousy is valid.” Rafe cringes slightly at the word, but it’s true.

“I just…” He exhales, his fingers grazing his knee. “I know it’s still early, but I like you, okay? And the idea of another guy, Kelce, being with you, knowing you in ways I don’t yet…It just…it gets to me. And now that he’s here, I can’t help but worry.”

“You shouldn’t.” Y/N’s response is immediate, her voice steady. “You have nothing to worry about. Truly.” She turns toward him, her eyes sincere.

“Our relationship ended a long time ago and as much as I loved him and still do, in a way, I can’t let myself go back there. We’ve both moved on. I’m moving on. With you, Rafe.”

Rafe swallows, his gaze flickering to her lips before settling back on her eyes.

“Do you mean that?” He whispers. “I mean…do you want that? Moving on with me?” Y/N’s lips curl into a soft smile and she nods.

“I mean it.” She says simply. And just like that, something in Rafe eases.

Rafe studies her for a long moment, searching for any hesitation, any flicker of doubt in her expression. But there’s none. Just quiet certainty, a promise in the way she looks at him.

He exhales, tension leaving his shoulders as he leans back slightly, resting his arm along the back of the daybed. His fingers ghost over her shoulder, not quite touching but close enough to feel the warmth of her skin.

“That’s…good to hear.” He murmurs, the weight in his chest loosening just a little. Y/N tilts her head, watching him.

“You don’t sound convinced.” She smirks.

“It’s not that.” Rafe says, shaking his head. “It’s just-” He pauses, rubbing his jaw, before glancing back at her. “I didn’t expect to feel this way. It’s not just about Kelce, it’s…fuck, Y/N. I don’t usually care like this.” She lets out a small breath, lips pressing together as she processes his words.

“And that scares you?” She asks softly and Rafe chuckles dryly, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Maybe a little.”

Y/N shifts closer, their knees brushing.

“I get it.” She admits. “But I don’t expect you to have it all figured out right now. I just need you to talk to me. Let me in instead of shutting me out.” Rafe meets her eyes, his fingers finally settling on her shoulder, his touch light but grounding.

“I’ll try.” He admits and Y/N smiles, nudging his knee with hers.

“Good.”

She inches closer, leaning into him. When she looks up, her gaze flickers to his lips.

“Do it.” Rafe whispers, his voice low and she smirks.

“Do what?” She teases, playing innocent. Rafe pinches her side, making her squeal as she presses in even closer.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He murmurs. Y/N giggles before leaning in, her lips brushing his. Rafe cups her face, deepening the kiss as her hand settles against his chest. When they finally pull back, breathless, she smiles up at him. Her eyes catch the shine on his lips and she instinctively reaches up, wiping away the remnants of her lip gloss.

“So, this is our thing now, huh?” She muses, focused on the task. Rafe chuckles.

“Guess so.” He shrugs. “Not that I care about the whole...lip color thingy.”

“Lip gloss.” She corrects with a smirk.

“That.” He scoffs. “You don’t have to wipe it off every time.” She shakes her head.

“It's not a big deal. Honestly, I should probably just stop wearing it around you.” She exclaims.

“Or just get used to me wearing it, too.” He says, grinning. Laughter bubbles between them, easy and warm, as she tucks herself closer into his side.

Later in the evening, JJ gathers all the islanders around the firepit, his energy buzzing like he’s just thought of the best idea ever.

“I think our new guy over here-” He slings an arm around Kelce’s shoulders “-deserves a proper Love Island welcome.” He grins.

“What do you say, guys? You up for a little ‘Never Have I Ever��?” A chorus of agreement follows, champagne gets poured and John B jumps in to explain the rules.

“Okay, so we’ll go around, say a prompt starting with ‘Never have I ever…’ Like, I dunno, ‘Never have I ever hooked up with my best friend’s sister.’ If you have, you take a sip.” Sarah, sitting beside him, turns to him in horror.

“Wait…was that an example or…?” She asks and John B's eyes widen.

“Example! Just an example!” He explains.

“Mm-hmm, sure.” JJ smirks, topping off his glass.

“JJ-” “Let the game begin!” JJ shouts in a dramatic British accent, earning some laughs.

“Topper, you’re up first.” JJ announces. Topper thinks for a second, then shrugs.

“Never have I ever…smoked a joint?” He asks, making JJ groan.

“Lame, Top. Come on.”

“We should start slow, Jayj.” Kiara reasons and the others nod in agreement.

“Fine, fine.” JJ rolls his eyes and takes a big sip anyway. John B, Rafe, Topper, Kelce, Sarah and Kiara follow suit. JJ glances around.

“Wait-you guys haven’t?”

Y/N, Maddy, Cleo, Pope and Alyssa shake their heads.

“You’re joking.” JJ deadpans.

“Not everyone wants to, you know.” Y/N says.

“But it never even crossed your mind? Just to see what it’s like?”

“Not at all.” She replies.

“She says it reeks.” Kelce chimes in, like he knows her better than her own self.

“Because it does!” Y/N exclaims, making the guys chuckle. Rafe, meanwhile, isn’t laughing. His jaw clenches as his gaze lingers on Kelce a beat too long. Y/N notices and without thinking, rests a hand on his thigh. A subtle squeeze, pulling him out of whatever storm was brewing in his head. Maddy clears her throat.

“Can we move on?” She asks.

“Yes, please.” Topper agrees.

“Okay, um…never have I ever gone skinny dipping.” Alyssa asks and drinks from her flute. Most of the islanders take a sip, except for Y/N and Pope. Kelce smirks, turning to Y/N.

“Take a sip.” He nods to the glass on her hand. She blinks.

“But I haven’t.” She replies and Kelce scoffs.

“Julia’s party.” He says making Y/N frown.

“What?”

“The penthouse? The pool? The ‘pretty pink vodka drink’?” He points out and Y/N’s eyes widen.

“Oh. Shit.” She exclaims.

“Okay, we need details, like, now.” Sarah claps her hands. Kelce raises a hand dismissively.

“Story for another time.” He nods at Y/N. “Take a sip, Y/N/N.” She does, while Rafe’s jaw visibly tightens, his grip on his glass a little too firm.

“Who’s next?” He asks, clearing his throat. Maddy perks up.

“Me! Okay, never have I ever tried sexting.”

A few people take sips. Kelce meets Y/N’s gaze and smirks before drinking. Y/N stares at the fire as she sips from her glass. Meanwhile, Rafe stares at Kelce. Y/N can practically feel the temperature rising beside her.

“Okay, never have I ever laughed so hard I, um, peed my pants as an adult.” Sarah giggles, before drinking.

Silence.

“And the crowd goes quiet.” JJ says in his British accent. Y/N snorts.

“It’s valid!” She takes a sip, to support Sarah. Rafe tilts his head.

“Wait, seriously?” He asks, in disbelief. She nods.

“It was a hilarious joke, I couldn't help it!” Rafe laughs, wrapping an arm around her.

“I should be disgusted by this.”

“Sorry.” She teases.

“Oh, no, no, don’t be. I’m not. I mean, it’s not, like…hot. But-wait, no, I mean, you’re hot, but-” Y/N chuckles, saving him from himself with a quick peck on the cheek.

“You’re cute when you short-circuit.” She points out.

“Come on, lovebirds! We got a game to finish!” Kelce calls out. Y/N sighs. Rafe sucks his teeth, visibly annoyed, gripping his glass a little too tightly. Y/N notices and without thinking, rests her hand back on his thigh.

“Okay! My turn!” Kiara clears her throat, trying to redirect.

The game continues, with Kelce making a point to throw Y/N knowing looks whenever she hesitates to drink. Every time he sips, he conveniently drops a story from their past, like a breadcrumb trail leading back to him.

Y/N, beyond annoyed, fiddles with a loose thread on her dress, until she’s had enough.

“I got one.” She says, sitting up as everyone leans in. Y/N locks eyes with Kelce. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm.”

The girls, every single one, take a sip. The guys burst into hollers, JJ nearly choking on his drink. Kelce’s smirk finally falters, his ego visibly bruised. He clears his throat.

“I think we should stop for the night.” He suggests

“Yeah, I bet you do.” Maddy exclaims, smirking. The game dissolves as the islanders start pairing off for chats, but Rafe? Rafe’s grinning.

‘Cause that's his girl.

to be continued...

taglist: @cherrygirlfriend @judesgfirl @slickdickwitchbitchh @leather-n-velvet @alinavalentine @littlelamy @nami11 @madiisynnxx @ts1mp0ne @starkeyslibrary @venusluves @rafecameronsfavourite @lolharrystylesissexy @nofacenocase00 @k4yr14 @drewslefttoe @tinie03 @angielvsnick @dellevans @malibuhearts @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @harryweeniee @imawhoreforu @fastlovela @jjmaybankmylovee @miserablebl00d @angeliki-spiteri9711 @drewsnr1slut @laniirackssss @emotionsmgcbabe @oconnrs @missabsey @amterasuu @cornliastreett @pvyden @italk2god @swagmoneydrew @lerclec @emmaaas-posts @dorcas4meadowes @isabellaxlilah @xoxosblogsblog @bxbychxrry @julesbog @annaaaamichelle @st8rkey @lewispool @my-name-is-baby @silkylovey @soincredible

A/N: hope you enjoyed this!!!

[wildfiig]

┆ the beach with rafe ✶

.ᐟ cw: suggestive! ummm sand? .ᐟ notes: i dont have enough confidence to write smut just yet but here's something super suggestive instead ... not sure i like this tho lol

the air was thick, a warmth that clung to the skin as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the sand. the world felt like it was holding its breath, caught in that moment where night was just a whisper away but everything still hummed with the remnants of daylight.

the blanket beneath you was soft, but not nearly as soft as the warmth of rafe’s body beside yours. his shoulder brushed against yours every time you shifted, and the scent of saltwater clung to him like a second skin, the smell of him filling your lungs.

the conversation had drifted from light and teasing to something slower, something more intimate. the world seemed quieter here, quieter between the two of you. words felt unnecessary, so you let the silence stretch between you, only broken by the distant sound of waves licking the shore.

you were facing the ocean, but rafe’s gaze was fixed on you. you could feel it even without turning to meet his eyes, hot, intense, like he was trying to memorise every little detail of you in the fading light. you didn’t have to look at him to know he was inches away, so close you could feel the heat from his body, so close you could hear the quickness of his breath matching your own.

without warning, he leaned in, the soft pressure of his lips brushing the side of your neck. a barely-there touch, but enough to send a shiver down your spine, enough to remind you how much you craved his presence. he did it again, this time with more pressure, his lips lingering against your skin as his breath fanned across the sensitive curve of your neck.

you didn’t pull away. couldn’t. instead, you let yourself melt into it, into him, the warmth of his body, the heat of his lips. your heart skipped, your pulse quickening as he kissed the hollow of your throat, each press of his lips feeling like a promise, a silent question.

“rafe,” you breathed, voice low, but you couldn’t say anything else. you couldn’t form any words, not when he was kissing you like that, tracing the outline of your collarbone with his lips as if he were marking you, claiming you in a way that was both possessive and tender.

his hands, rough and sure, slipped under your shirt, fingers skimming the skin of your lower back, pulling you closer to him. you felt the heat between you intensifying, your body leaning into his, matching the rhythm of his kisses. the sound of the waves seemed to fade away, drowned out by the beating of your heart and the soft exhalations of breath shared between the two of you.

his lips left your neck, traveling up to your jaw, where they paused for a moment, as if he were waiting for you to give him permission to continue. you tilted your head, your eyes meeting his, and you saw something in his gaze that made you ache, a hunger that matched your own.

"please," you whispered, the word slipping from your lips without thought, without hesitation. it was all the invitation he needed.

his mouth crashed against yours then, deep and urgent, hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if there were no space left between you, as if you were the only two people in the world. his kiss was desperate, needy, like he was trying to convey everything he couldn’t say with words, and you responded just as fiercely, your hands finding the edge of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

he groaned into the kiss, the sound raw and aching, and you couldn’t help but press your body against his, the need between you spiraling out of control. you felt him shiver when your fingers brushed against the waistband of his shorts, and you pulled away for just a second, breathless, staring into his eyes.

“don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly, and rafe’s answer was a fierce kiss, his hands already moving to undress you slowly, methodically, like he wanted to savour every moment of it. his touch was both careful and consuming, like he wanted to remember the feel of your skin beneath his hands for as long as he could.

the world outside faded completely now. all that existed was the two of you, tangled in the heat of the moment, the sound of your heartbeats and the rustling of the sand beneath you. the ocean seemed a distant memory as you moved together, the air around you thick and heavy with want.

your bodies shifted together, each movement, each kiss, each touch more urgent than the last. you didn’t care about anything else. not about the sand getting caught in places it shouldn’t be, not about the dark sky stretching out above you, not even about the fear that had been gnawing at you for days. all that mattered was this.

his name slipped from your lips again, this time a breathless gasp, and rafe’s response was a low groan, his body moving with yours in a rhythm that was all its own. it was messy, it was frantic, but it felt like everything you needed, like everything you’d been waiting for in the quiet spaces between your heartbeats.

when the world returned with its sounds and its weight, you were lying in his arms, the sand sticking to your skin, your body heavy and sated. rafe’s fingers brushed lightly over your shoulder, and you felt the faintest tremor in his touch.

you looked at him, his face softened now, a faint smile on his lips, and for the first time, it wasn’t the hunger that showed in his eyes, it was something else. something almost vulnerable.

[mysticbby2009]

Rivals & Revisions Part 14 – Just Econ Things

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11) (part 12) (part 13) (part 14)

You walked out of the exam hall like you'd just come back from war.

No one looked good. Everyone was hunched, tired, talking in too-loud whispers like trauma survivors. You weren’t any different — backpack half open, hair a mess, clutching your phone like it held the answers you didn’t write down.

Rafe was waiting outside, back against the wall, arms crossed. He looked—of course—completely unbothered.

You hated him for it.

“Well?” he asked, straightening up as you approached.

You just gave him a look. “Don’t.”

He laughed under his breath, falling into step beside you. “C’mon. It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“I forgot how to draw a fucking supply and demand curve. Like. I forgot.”

“…That’s literally the one thing they always ask.”

“Thank you, Cameron. I’m aware.”

You tugged your hoodie sleeves down over your hands, still walking, the adrenaline from the test slowly wearing off and leaving behind the lingering taste of academic defeat. Rafe wasn’t saying anything, and it was only making it worse.

You shot him a glare. “You did well, didn’t you?”

“I did fine.”

“Fine as in like... top of the class fine?”

He looked suspiciously smug. “Maybe.”

You groaned. “You suck. I study for two weeks, nearly lose my mind, and still blank on basic concepts. You show up, vibe for three hours, and ace it.”

He bumped your shoulder. “Econ’s the only subject I’m good at. Let me have this.”

You snorted. “Yeah, and unfortunately, this was the first exam. So now I get to feel inferior for the rest of the week.”

“You’re literally topping in everything else. I’d trade my econ brain for your stats notes in a heartbeat.”

You looked at him, deadpan. “You wouldn’t last two seconds in stats.”

“Exactly. That’s why I didn’t offer me in the trade.”

That got a reluctant laugh out of you. Just a little one. But it was enough to break the heaviness.

You both stopped at the end of the hallway, the sun finally peeking through the clouds outside. It should’ve felt lighter, but instead it felt like a pause between rounds.

“So,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, eyes flicking toward yours, “post-exam ritual?”

“What, like crying in the shower?”

“I was thinking more like greasy food and absolutely no eye contact.”

“…Sold.”

You walked out into the light, shoulder brushing his, and for once, neither of you moved away.

No rivalry. No jabs. Just quiet, shared exhaustion — and the low, steady hum of something else you were both pretending not to notice.

@cokewithcameron @my-name-is-baby @letstryagaintomorrow @akobx .

[hittmeandtellmeyouremine]

Puddin'!

pairing: puddin!reader x older!rafe

warnings: mdni, mostly fluff but suggestive content, (implied) age gap, ddlg themes, use of 'daddy'.

word count: 700+

a/n: if you don't like this kind of stuff just scroll. i'm trying something out before putting out the hardcore stuff that's sitting in my drafts.

puddin!reader who had always been so independent her whole life. she took care of everyone else around her, provided for herself, made quite the reputation for herself. she didn't need anyone else to support her, certainly not a man.

puddin!reader who's best friend had dragged her to some event, saying something about how she wanted to make a few new connections and she needed the emotional support. so, of course, she went with.

puddin!reader who rafe spotted from a mile away, like a fuckin' angel in a sea of sinners. his eyes raked over the lacy, baby blue dress that stopped just barely at her thigh, contradicting her tanned skin deliciously.

puddin!reader who rafe saw right through the second she opened her mouth to respond to his introduction. the whole independence thing? it was all just an elaborate act to keep people away, to protect herself from the horrors of the world.

puddin!reader who told rafe her name, her real name and at first he obliged. responding to her with it, addressing her with it. but it didn't last very long in his mind, not when she was the sweetest thing he had ever met.

puddin!reader who had unlocked something new in rafe, something he had kept buried deep within the folds of his brain. and he had done the same to her. because with any other guy she was cold, dismissive. they could barely get an answer out of her. yet here she was, looking up at rafe like he was some sort of savior.

puddin!reader who let rafe take her home, show her around his fancy estate that she was positive costed more than she's made her whole life. she let rafe's hand linger on the small of her back, letting her familiarize herself with his space.

puddin!reader who eventually let this become a casual thing, constantly finding herself within the walls of rafe's home.

puddin!reader who talked rafe's ear off the second he allowed her to, smiling as she told him about everything and nothing at all.

puddin!reader who fell for rafe's charm and security. how could she not? when he'd pull her onto his lap, pushing the curls out of her face and telling her about his day before letting her tell him about hers.

puddin!reader who couldn't quite pinpoint what exactly was so different with rafe, why she felt so... weird. rafe brought out a different side of her, one that was more submissive. too submissive.

puddin!reader who rafe unraveled like a ball of yarn. he had seen it in her the second he met her. he spent the beginning of their relationship trying to scrape it out of her, little by little, piece by piece.

puddin!reader who took comfort in rafe calling her puddin' rather than her real name. her heart fluttered every time she heard him call her that, making her way to his side briskly.

puddin!reader who rafe convinced to quit her job, move in with him instead because it would be easier that way. because he had more than enough to support and provide for her. because she was young and didn't deserve to be stressed by a job that was barely paying her.

puddin!reader who rafe helped decorate her new room, saying something about how she needed her own space for when she didn't want to be with him. she thought that was just about the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

puddin!reader who would sit between rafe's thighs, back pressed against his chest. rafe would play with her hair, finger coiling her curls one by one. her eyes glued to whatever movie he had put on to occupy her.

puddin!reader who didn't really think twice the first time rafe referred to himself as 'daddy', not even really giving it a second thought. that was when rafe knew, he had finally gotten her.

puddin!reader who had regressed without even realizing it. he had stripped her of all her independence, clouding her innocent little mind with his care and affection.

puddin!reader who depended on rafe as more than just a significant other and rafe was more than happy to give that to her. his puddin' who he treated like princess. he didn't know how badly they both needed this, but he sure as hell wasn't letting her go anytime soon.

-

[simpforboys]

frat!perv!manipulative!rafe who’s obsessed with topper’s dumb gf…

(warnings: shameless groping, dry humping, reader is innocent and ditsy, cheating (?))

series masterlist

Sweet Jesus, no way you were actually that dumb?

When Rafe walked into the dorm he shared with Topper at the Sigma Alpha Phi fraternity house, he wasn’t too shocked to see you. After all, you were with his best friend.

“Hiya, Rafey.” You sweetly called out to him, lying on your stomach and mindlessly kicking your feet behind you while you scrolled on Instagram.

“Mhm, hey, pretty girl. Whaddya doin’ here alone? Top ditch you?” Rafe questioned, throwing his backpack down on his side of the room.

“He’s in the bathroom.” You murmur, eyes still glued to your phone as a funny meme came up, and you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

Rafe hummed in response, a small smirk curling onto his lips as he took in your outfit. A mini denim skirt, babydoll shirt, and… white lace panties.

Rafe knew you weren’t the smartest or most aware girl in the world, but your sweet and bubbly personality made up for the lack of it. And he can’t say he minded, really. Not when he always got to see peeks up those little skirts you wore or your bra every now and then.

“Sweetness, y’know your panties are hangin’ out, yeah?” Rafe scoffed, walking the five feet over to your boyfriend’s bed.

His large hands moved to grip your soft cheeks, pulling them apart to see the white piece of fabric barely covering your cunt.

You peered over your shoulder, seeing Rafe squeezing and touching your butt. It wasn’t anything new, Rafe always touched you like that when Topper was gone. But you were okay with it, because he always assured you that he was just looking out for you as his best friend’s girlfriend.

“‘m sorry, Rae. Didn’t realize.” You mumbled, before turning back to scroll on your phone, genuinely believing Rafe was fixing your skirt for you.

He climbs up onto the lifted bed, knees on either sides of your hips. “This skirt s’so damn frustratin’… doesn’t wanna come down this pretty ass.”

“Fix it, Rae.” You huffed, adding another post to your close friends story.

Rafe rolled his eyes. Damn brat. But his cock was painfully hard against his shorts, and he knew Topper took forever in the bathroom. “Yeah, baby, ‘m fixin’ it.”

So, his hands lifted your hips a bit, presenting more of your (barely) clothed cunt and ass to him. He pressed his erection against it, grinding slowly at first.

You just kept scrolling, unaware Rafe was dry humping you shamelessly on your boyfriend’s bed — because he was fixing your skirt.

He had to bite down on his lip to keep a moan from leaving the back of his throat. Your pussy was so fucking warm against his bulge, the lace revealing most of it.

And every day Rafe hates himself for not getting with you before Topper did. But, some sick part of him also liked the thrill of doing this on his best friend’s bed, with your ditsy brain.

The adrenaline coursing through him was enough to make him throw his head back a little, sculpted hips moving a bit quicker as he let out a strangled whimper.

His bulge directly hit your clothed clit, making you gasp out. “R-Rafey, are you fixin’ it?”

“Yeah, sweetness. Jus’ hold still f’me…”

He grunted, hands digging into your hips. The sound of your gasp and the delicious — yet not enough, friction felt made his hips stutter, eyes squeeze shut, a small moan leaving him as he cums in his shorts.

He pants a little before he snaps out of it, and reluctantly pulls your skirt down to cover most of your ass. The tall boy then climbs off the bed, looking down at you, still giggling at some meme.

And then Topper finally came in, bidding his friend a “hey”, unaware that his roommate just dry humped his girlfriend.

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe and sensitive!reader spending the holidays together

c/w: fluff, her ovulating and being horny, smut: p-in-v, slight breeding kink, use of dad, 18+ mdni! 

wc: 1.5k

ugh i’ve missed this man

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

“Why is he doin’ that shit?”  

“Rafe, it’s a rom-com,” she reasons, practically glued to him on their couch with the way she keeps shifting closer and closer, almost unconsciously at this point.   

“Yeah, a shitty one. Why was it necessary to do a whole fuckin’ speech at the mall? He couldn’t jus’ I dunno, tell her how he felt?” he scoffs, clearly fed up with the entire film already. 

She can’t stop the bubbly laughter from escaping her when she looks over to his scowling face. “I mean, this is actually getting kinda weird…why’s everyone watching them?” 

“Yeah, ‘n why are they still on that fuckin’ stage?” he grumbles while the couple is now fully making out on the TV screen. 

“Please don’t ever do anything like that to me.”

“Yeah, was actually gonna ask, you, uh, you wanna go shoppin’ tomorrow?” 

“No!” she giggles before taking a sip of the hot chocolate she’d made for herself (because Rafe deliberately told her he didn’t want any) but the minute she’d sat down with the mug in hand, he’d wanted to try it, which ended up with him drinking nearly half of it.  

“Oh shit, forgot to give you this earlier, look what I got you today,” he suddenly murmurs. 

“Hm?” her eyes flit over to his face; momentarily distracted by his pretty features as he searches for something from the back pocket of his pants. Then, he’s pulling a golden necklace from a velvety box.    

“That looks really expensive,” she nervously mumbles, pausing the TV in order to concentrate on the heart-shaped locket he’s holding out to her.   

“You deserve the fuckin’ world, it was nothin’ alright? Can think of it as an early Christmas present if it makes you feel better,” he rolls his eyes, almost exasperated that she still can’t seem to comprehend the fact that he enjoys spending his money on her.    

“It’s so beautiful,” she croons as she inspects the piece of jewelry with careful fingertips, heart swelling in her chest at the sentiment— recalling how she’d mentioned something about thinking pendants like these were adorable maybe once.    

“Yeah? You like it?”    

“I love it. Wait, you had your initials carved into it too? That’s so cute, Ray, what the hell?” she feels her eyes grow watery because her boyfriend really is her favorite person in the whole wide world for a reason.    

“Yeah, know you’re into sappy shit like that, ‘n you can put m’picture inside too ‘n you’ll always have me with you or whatever the fuck.”    

“Shut up, you’re so sweet! I love you,” she exclaims before she’s wrapping her arms around his neck— climbing into his lap in the process while he murmurs into her hair how he apparently ‘loves her more’, which she thinks is not possible.    

“Let me put it on you?” he says before he’s swiping away some strands in order to clasp the locket around her neck. “Look so pretty with m’name on you.”

“Wait, you should have my name on you too,” she jokingly utters out next.  

“Been thinkin’ about gettin’ it tattooed actually,” he admits, completely serious, which makes her face scrunch up.  

“You’re not getting my name tattooed on you— you’re crazy,” she softly hits his chest. However, he can barely even feel it because she really doesn’t have a single violent bone in her body.   

“Yeah, crazy ‘bout you,” he grins, eliciting an airy giggle from her.    

Knowing she’s about to complain about him being weird again, he shuts her up with a press of his mouth against hers— a surprised noise leaving her when she’s momentarily taken aback by the sudden cushion of his lips. 

And it’s sloppy, the way they slot together like puzzle pieces when she opens up for him, but both of them prefer it that way. 

His kiss was meant to be something sweet but soon enough she’s rutting against him— whimpering into his mouth as if it’s been years since the last time they did this. And all too soon for her liking, he’s pulling away.

“Somethin’ you want?”  

“…no,” she lies through her teeth.    

“No? Jus’ uh, humpin’ me like a bitch in heat for no reason then, hm?” he raises his brows; eyes fixed on her frustrated features.    

“Ray...” she huffs out; a frown already forming on her spit-slicked lips.    

“Yeah?” he asks, giving her a soft peck as encouragement.    

“Want you…” she pants against his mouth.    

“But m’right here?” the furrow of his brows displays faux confusion.  

“You know what I mean,” she whines; shifting around in his lap some more.    

“M’afraid I don’t. If there’s somethin’ you want, you gonna have to tell me,” the edge of his mouth curls annoyingly when he decides to toy with her, always finding so much entertainment from her struggle.     

However, she merely grants him another whine.   

“Wha’s up with you today, hm? So fuckin’ needy, actin’ like you haven’t been fucked in a month when you were literally cryin’ on m’cock last night?” he murmurs while thumbing at her pouty bottom lip.   

“I don’t know…jus’ need you so bad,” her eyes begin to gloss over when he’s still not giving her what she so desperately craves.    

“Baby, there’s no need to cry, yeah?” he sticks his thumb past her lips; an attempt to placate her, even if he thinks she never looks prettier than with her eyes all wet and forlorn.   

“You’re ovulatin’ right now, aren’t ya?” his brain finally fits together the very telltale signs as he plucks his phone from the coffee table— opening the app that tracks her period cycle.  

“Think so, yeah,” she mumbles, mindlessly sucking on the digit resting on her tongue as she sniffles.  

It’s no surprise to either of them when his assumption proves to be right.    

“Think you need me to fuck a baby in you, s’that it? Wanna make me a real daddy?” he croons.    

“Mhm…want you,” her words are muffled around his thumb.    

“I know, sweetheart. Don’t want anyone but you carryin’ m’kids— think about knockin’ you up so fuckin’ often, you know?”    

“You do?”    

“Yeah, know you’d be such a good mom.”    

“You think? I think you’d be the best dad, sometimes wish you were my dad,” she rambles mindlessly, the conversation suddenly teetering on the edge of something else entirely.    

“Shit, such an angel face ‘n then there’s this rotten mind inside, huh?” he tuts in disapproval, appearing disgusted as if he doesn’t get even harder in response to her words— something raw, primitive stirring in the pit of his stomach whenever she says things like that.    

“M’sorry dad,” she offers him an impish smile.  

“Someone’s in a mood today?” he chuckles, narrowing his eyes in a playful manner.    

“Can you take off your pants?” she complains while attempting to loosen his belt but with her mind buzzing like a honeybee it’s proving to be a rather demanding.   

“Can’t do anythin’ without dad’s help, can you? Go on, let’s see if you can take me out by yourself, yeah?” he rasps out, tone challenging.    

“No, need your help, daddy, I can’t—”  

“Shit, you’re fuckin’ pathetic,” he murmurs, somehow managing to turn something so patronizing into something affectionate as he swats away her helpless hands and yanks the belt open himself.    

“See? Not that fuckin’ hard, was it?” he mutters out as his thumb slips out of her mouth before he’s pulling himself out. And even if he’s not even fully hard yet, and she’s seen it more times than she can count, she’s still mesmerized by the sight— eyes rounding out while she simply stares as if she’s under some spell.    

“You’re so pretty,” she blinks at him, eyes moony.    

“Still not tired of seein’ it, huh?”   

She shakes her head.   

And since she’s not wearing any pants (as usual), he only has to tug the fabric of her underwear to the side in order to reveal her messy cunt.    

“Ray…” she whines when he merely smears the drippy head over her folds; thudding it against her clit to get her to whimper some more.  

“Hm? Want it inside? Wha’s the magic word?” he looks at her with something amused twinkling in his eyes.   

“Please. Dad, it hurts,” she sniffles, desperately trying to rub against him in an attempt to alleviate the ache.    

“Hurts? Think you bein’ a little dramatic, no?” he lets out a breathy chuckle, making her huff out in frustration.   

“M’not, Ray, please, need you so bad,” wet droplets stain her cheeks while she tries to uselessly blink them away.    

“Shh, s’okay. Dad’s bein’ mean again, isn’t he? M’sorry, baby, I’ll give you what you want, yeah?” his voice is a deep rumble before he’s finally tucking the tip into her weepy cunt, causing both of them to moan in tandem when she practically sucks him in— his fingerprints denting the skin of her thighs when he aids her movements to his liking.   

“Yeah? That what you wanted? Always such a tight fuckin’ fit, huh?” he grunts against her mouth; hips meeting hers halfway as he stuffs himself deeper.  

“Mm, I love you,” she whimpers— practically feeling him in her guts as his cock pokes at the spongy spot inside her while his big hands help situate her on top of him, and she thinks this might just be heaven on earth.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - SERIES MASTERLIST (r.c)

: ̗̀➛ one ⋆┆two ⋆┆three ⋆ ┆four ⋆┆five ⋆ ┊six ⋆ ┊seven ⋆┊eight ⋆┆nine ⋆┆ten ⋆┆eleven ⋆ ┊twelve ⋆ ┊thirteen ⋆┊ fourteen ⋆ ┊fifteen┊sixteen ⋆ ⋆ ˚✧ [more to be added]

: ̗̀➛ TAGLIST is CLOSED¡!

[cameronsbabydoll]

exhusband!rafe x reader attending their sons t ball game together and the other moms try coming onto him?? maybe reader gets kinda jealous and it confuses her.

ex!husband!rafe and reader going to their sons sports game

wc: 395 — a/n: we love a little jealousy war

you weren’t even trying at first.

okay — maybe the sundress was a little intentional. it was hot out. and yeah, maybe you’d picked the one that hugged your waist just right, dipped just low enough at the neckline to be sweet-but-distracting. totally innocent.

but then you saw him.

rafe in all his cocky, casually devastating glory — standing there like the king of the damn bleachers while those moms practically threw themselves at him.

and the worst part? he let them.

laughing a little too loud at their jokes. smirking in that lazy, arrogant way he knows drives you insane. letting their acrylic-nailed hands touch his arm like they had a damn chance.

so... two can play that game.

you wait until rafe is watching — of course he’s watching, he always watches you — before you drift toward a small group of the other dads.

they're friendly. harmless. a few of them definitely take notice when you walk up, all soft smiles and glowing in the afternoon sun.

"hey, didn’t realize you were single now," one says, clearly fishing. "bet the line’s out the door, huh?"

you laugh, light and easy, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear — fully aware of rafe’s hard stare burning into the back of your neck like a damn laser.

"oh, i don’t know about that," you hum, voice syrupy sweet, "but i guess I’m figuring it out."

and when one of them leans in — harmlessly — to compliment your dress?

boom.

suddenly, he’s there.

rafe appears at your side like a storm cloud, towering, tense, fake smile plastered on.

"hey, man," he greets with that sharp edge to his voice, clapping the dad’s shoulder just a little too hard. "appreciate you keepin' my girl company, but we’re good over here."

the dad laughs nervously, backing off.

and you just blink up at rafe, playing innocent.

"problem, rafe?" you blink.

he looks down at you — jaw tight, nostrils flaring slightly.

"yeah," he says flatly, eyes dragging down your figure like it pains him. "problem is you walk around lookin' like that and expect me to not put a stop to it."

your heart skips.

but you just smile sweetly, dripping with fake concern.

"aw. jealous or somethin', rafe?"

his jaw clenches.

"dead fucking jealous, sweetheart," he mutters darkly — low enough that only you hear — before stalking off like he didn’t just declare silent war.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Golf day || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: INSPIRED BY THIS TIKTOK

Warnings: pure fluff hehehehe

Word count: 497

A/n: if anyone has any tiktoks that they want me to turn into a Rafe fic, send them thru pls!!!! I love finding random vids on my fyp that are so Rafe coded. ALSO BEGGING FOR MORE DAD!RAFE REQUESTSS

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“Do you think she’ll enjoy it?” Rafe questions, turning his head to you, his eyes lingering on Mabel, comfortably nestled on your lap. He looks genuinely concerned, his brow furrowed with worry.

“You know she loves watching you do anything,” you reply with a reassuring chuckle, trying to soothe his anxiety. As you adjust the tiny hat on your daughter’s head, you can’t help but smile at her innocent excitement.

It was Mabel’s first time at the golf course, and Rafe had been on edge all morning. He’d peppered you with questions like, “Don’t you think it will be too hot?” and “What if she gets bored?” His nervousness was palpable, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor.

You had spent the morning reassuring him, reminding him repeatedly that Mabel would be perfectly fine. You knew she would be thrilled just to watch her dad play golf, her eyes following his every move with awe and admiration.

“Do you think she’ll like this spot?” Rafe asks as the golf cart comes to a gentle stop under the shade of a large oak tree. “Babe, you’re the one playing,” you giggle, enjoying his overprotectiveness. Rafe laughs softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Mabel, do you like it here?” he asks, his voice tender as he tickles her chin. Mabel responds with a delightful giggle that melts your heart.

You adjust Mabel on your lap so she’s facing Rafe, her wide, curious eyes tracking his every move as he unloads his golf clubs. The sun casts a warm glow over the course, and you can’t help but admire how handsome Rafe looks in his golf gear. “Doesn’t Daddy look so handsome, Bels?” you murmur to Mabel, pressing light kisses on her rosy cheeks. She giggles uncontrollably and tickling sensation.

Rafe turns at the sound of her infectious giggles, a broad smile lighting up his face. “You girls doing alright?” he calls out, his eyes sparkling with joy. You chuckle, giving him a thumbs-up and lifting Mabel’s tiny hand to wave at him.

Remembering that Rose wanted a video of Mabel’s first time at the golf course, you quickly pull out your phone and aim the camera at Mabel’s expressive face. She’s watching Rafe intently, her anticipation palpable.

As Rafe lines up his shot, you can see the concentration etched on his face. The moment the club makes contact with the golf ball, sending it soaring through the air, Mabel flinches in surprise. You can’t help but laugh, immediately clamping your hand over your mouth, feeling a bit guilty for laughing at her reaction.

Rafe shields his eyes with his hand, squinting into the distance to see where the ball landed. Satisfied with his shot, he turns back and walks towards you and Mabel, a broad smile lighting up his face. “Daddy’s pretty good, isn’t he?” Rafe chuckles as he reaches you, gently lifting Mabel from under her armpits and pressing a loving kiss on her round cheek.

You quickly snap a photo of the sweet moment. Their joy is infectious, and you can’t help but chuckle as you send the video and picture to Rose. Mabel’s earlier reaction to the sound of Rafe hitting the ball plays in your mind, making you smile.

Rafe notices your amusement. “What’s so funny?” he asks, his curiosity piqued as he sees you smiling at your phone. You glance up, grinning, and show him the video of Mabel’s startled reaction to his golf swing.

“Aww, I’m sorry, babygirl,” Rafe says with a laugh, his eyes softening as he watches the video. “I’ll let you know when I’m going to hit the ball next time.” Mabel, already captivated by her dad’s presence, giggles and reaches out to touch his face, her earlier surprise forgotten.

Rafe’s heart melts as he cradles Mabel in his arms, swaying gently. “You’re my good luck charm, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice filled with love. Mabel coos in response, her tiny hands grasping at Rafe’s shirt.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…

content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni

Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!

You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie

Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask

You: what’s up?

Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?

You: does he live near us?

Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??

Hour one

You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.

“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.”

Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.

“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.

Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus. 

It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.

“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.

“I know,” you said dryly.

“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.

“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”

Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you. 

Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him. 

“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.

“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”

“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.

It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip. 

“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.

“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.

You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up. 

But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.

“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.

You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.

“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.

You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, “uhm excuse me!”

“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”

“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.

“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.

“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.

“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.

“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.

“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.

“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”

“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”

You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.

“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.

“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”

“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card. 

You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy? 

“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes. 

Time to bring it home, he thought.

“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”

“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said. 

Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.

Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.

With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.” 

Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.

“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”

He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”

“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.

“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.

You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.

Hour two

The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.

Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.

“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.

“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”

Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.

“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.

Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”

“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”

“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”

His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”

“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.

“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.

“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.

“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.” 

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.

You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.

“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat. 

He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you. 

“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.

You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does. 

“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”

“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.

“Like you know me at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”

“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.

“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”

Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.

“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”

Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.

“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”

“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.

Hour three

Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.

Rafe snored. Loudly.

You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.

Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.

“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.

“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.

“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.

“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”

Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.

“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.

“Try me,” he said.

You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.

“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.

“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.

“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”

You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down. 

“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.

Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”

“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre. 

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.

“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting. 

“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”

“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”

You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”

He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’

After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.

“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.

Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.

“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.

“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”

“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”

Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.

“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.

“What?”

“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.

“Why?” you asked.

“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”

Hour four

Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.

With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.

It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes. 

“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“

“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.

You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket. 

“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”

“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”

“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.

“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.

“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?” 

“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”

You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.

“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.

“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.

“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.

“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.

You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.

“What kind of animal was -”

“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”

Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.

“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”

Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?

Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.

“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”

Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.

Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”

Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…

“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”

“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field. 

“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”

“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”

Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway. 

Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.

His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun. 

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail. 

“Fuck!” 

He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.

Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.

“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.

He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.

“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.

“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.

“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.

It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.

“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.

Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”

“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.

“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.

“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”

You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.

“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.

“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”

“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.

The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”

You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.

You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.

Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.

The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.

Hour five

Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.

Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.

“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.

With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.

“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.

“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.

----❄----

The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.

“How much was it?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life. 

You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.

“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.

“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.

“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”

“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.

“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station. 

The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…

“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.

“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”

It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love. 

“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it. 

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.

“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.” 

“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.

“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him. 

He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.

“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.

“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”

It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.

“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.

Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble. 

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.

“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”

“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”

“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.

“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.

With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat. 

“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…

Hour seven

The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.

And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.

“Oh my god!!” 

You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off. 

You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.

“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.

Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.

“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.

You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard. 

“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.

“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.

“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer. 

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.

With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.

“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.

“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”

You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.

“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.

“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”

He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.

----❄----

“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.

Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole…” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”

He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”

“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”

With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.

“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.

He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.

“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.

“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.

“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”

He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”

With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.

You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.

Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.

Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…

“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!” 

The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.

“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”

The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.

“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”

Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”

“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.

“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas. 

The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.

“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”

You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.

----❄----

Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry. 

He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.

“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention. 

You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time. 

Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.

“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”

----❄----

The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.

You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said, 

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!

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