#rafe cameron lemon

[tinythebunni]

Rafe Cameron

🫧🍭🐬

Rafe is literally da definition of pussy whipped. this man cannot live without spending atleast 2 hours between ur thighs each day. he comes home from the golf club basically feigning for your taste. he gives a kiss to your clit before he starts licking u in the most sinful ways.

i feel like Rafe would 100% keep a photo of your pretty cunt leaking w his cum in his wallet. he looks at it each time he swipes his card or goes to show his ID for a drink. and if u prefer season one Rafe, then it’s right next 2 his bags of coke!

Rafe luvs it when u surprise him with pictures of u while he’s at work! this man enjoys seeing u naked and seeing ur pretty face! he gets just as hard from nudes as he does when u send him pictures of u next 2 ur crusty lil dog he can’t stand (he’d never tell you dat tho!)

he loves it when he comes home and you basically pounce on him. you’re waiting on da couch 4 him when he comes home and he can tell how worked up you are! he so did dis on purpose, sending you a mirror picture of his hands holding a box in one hand and his phone in the other. you hug him with all your strength and start leaving kisses on his neck and chest! you don’t care about dat sweat he has, u like his musk anyways.

he gets hard from the look in your eyes when u gaze up at him. you tell him how badly you need him! you drag his hand to between your thighs and slide it past your underwear. his knees almost give out form how you whimper when u feel his fingers inside you. he kisses you with all his strength and taps the back of your thigh, hinting for you to jump. he carries you all da way 2 his room and takes care of u all night. making sure his sweetest girl is feeling better and well fucked <3

[rafesapologist]

if you would've been the one ─ rafe cameron

summary: rafe gets engaged and you find out.

warnings: angst, swearing, not proof-read

author's note: if you guys didn't know, i love writing angst so enjoy!!

The Pelican Yacht Club hums with the familiar buzz of a humid summer day. You stand behind the bar, the scent of saltwater mixing with the tang of citrus as you slice limes for the afternoon rush. The air is thick, almost suffocating, but you’ve gotten used to it. It’s a typical day—until it isn’t.

You glance up when the door swings open, letting in a flash of sunlight that makes you squint. It's Sofia. She isn’t scheduled today. The sight of her here, so out of place in this moment, makes your stomach twist. You force yourself to look away, feigning interest in the drink menu as she walks past. You can’t help but feel a twinge of resentment as she greets the staff with her bright smile, as if she’s the sunshine that everyone’s been waiting for.

Part of you hates her for that smile, hates the way she effortlessly lights up the room. But it’s not really her you’re mad at—it’s what she represents. Rafe Cameron’s new girlfriend. The girl who has no idea about the summers you spent next door, about the nights you sat on the dock with him, talking about everything and nothing. The girl who has no clue about the history between you and Rafe before she ever came into the picture.

You find yourself inching closer, pretending to fix a shelf of liquor bottles while you strain to overhear her conversation with your boss. Sofia’s voice is low but excited, the kind of tone people use when they have news that’s too good to keep quiet.

You catch bits and pieces of the conversation—something about a new start, a fresh chapter. Your heart pounds as you try to piece it together. Then you hear it, clear as day.

“I’m engaged,” Sofia says, a soft, dreamy smile spreading across her face. “Rafe proposed last night.”

You freeze. The glass in your hand slips slightly, a cold splash of water running down your wrist, but you barely feel it. You’re too stunned, too caught in the moment. Engaged. She’s not just his girlfriend anymore—she’s his fiancée. And she’s leaving. You hear her tell your boss she’s quitting, planning to move in with Rafe, start their new life together.

Your heart sinks, the words echoing in your head like a tolling bell. Engaged. Moving in with him. The world blurs around the edges, your fingers gripping the counter as you try to steady yourself. You force a smile when your boss catches your eye, but it feels thin, barely there.

Your heart thuds violently against your chest, every beat echoing like a cruel joke pounding in your ears. It feels as if your very emotions are ripping at your heartstrings, tearing them apart one by one. The realization claws at you, raw and unyielding. Engaged. You can’t even say the word in your head without feeling your throat tighten, a wave of nausea creeping up as if the world itself has betrayed you.

Your lips curl, the bitterness flooding your mouth as if you’d just bitten into a sour lemon. It’s a twisted smile, one that burns with hatred and betrayal. She had no idea—how could she? How could she possibly know the history, the gravity of everything she just shattered with those simple, giddy words? Bitter tears prick at your eyes, the kind that sting and make you blink rapidly, as if you could will them away.

Without thinking, your fingers fumble at the ties of your apron, ripping it off with a sudden, violent tug. The fabric falls to the floor with a muted thud, but it feels like a thunderous crash in your ears. You don’t care who’s watching; you don’t care what they’ll say. The room seems to tilt around you, your vision narrowing as your breaths come in shallow, rapid gasps.

You place your trembling hands on the counter, feeling the cool surface beneath your fingertips as you try to steady yourself. It doesn’t help. You bow your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you suck in a ragged breath, trying to rein in the flood of emotions threatening to drown you. The noise of the yacht club fades to a dull hum, everything around you blurring as you fight to keep it together.

Suddenly, nothing around you matters anymore. The clinking glasses, the murmur of the club members, the dull chatter of your coworkers—all of it fades to a distant, meaningless buzz. Your job, your manners, your reputation—all the things you’ve been clinging to for a sense of normalcy—seem laughably small in the face of what you’re feeling. The rage and heartbreak surging inside you demand an escape, a release you can’t find standing behind this bar pretending everything is fine.

Without a second thought, you shove the door open, storming out of the yacht club. No one notices. No one even calls your name. The warm, sticky air hits you like a slap in the face as you step outside, but it does nothing to calm the storm brewing within you. You stumble forward, gasping for air, your chest heaving as if you’re drowning. You bend over, hands clutching your knees as you choke on your sobs, each tear hot and unforgiving as it spills down your cheeks.

You force yourself to look up at the sky, its bright blue taunting you. The sun burns harshly, casting long shadows over the marina, but you only feel the darkness wrapping around you. A bitter laugh escapes your lips, followed by a curse you fling at the heavens. You want to scream, to demand an answer from whatever cruel force is out there pulling the strings of your life. What about her? you think desperately, the words echoing in your mind like a broken record. What about her made her deserve a ring, Rafe’s ring?

Your hands clench into fists as you straighten up, trying to find your balance, but the ground feels like it’s shifting beneath you. The memories of Rafe slam into you like a tidal wave, overwhelming and inescapable. The late nights by the dock, the way he used to look at you when he thought no one else was watching, the soft, fleeting kisses that felt like promises he’d never actually made. They all flash before your eyes like a haunting nightmare you can’t wake up from.

It hits you then, like a punch to the gut—the realization that everything you shared, everything you held onto, meant nothing now. He’s chosen her. He’s given her everything you once dreamed he’d offer you. And in that moment, the weight of it all is too much to bear, your knees nearly buckling as you clutch your chest.

A rush of adrenaline surges through your veins, and before you can even think, your feet are moving. You take off, sprinting away from the yacht club, away from the suffocating weight of it all. Where you’re going? You have no idea. You just need to move, to run until the pain isn’t the only thing you feel. The wind pushes against you, almost as if it’s trying to slow you down, but you ignore it. You let it whip through your hair, the strands tangling into a mess of disheveled curls as you race forward.

Your feet pound against the pavement, carrying you closer into town, toward Figure 8—the gilded paradise of the wealthy, where your story with Rafe first began. The roads twist beneath you, familiar yet foreign now, each corner a sharp, painful reminder of the past. You pass the spot where he kissed you for the first time under the flickering streetlight. The bench where you once sat for hours, talking about dreams that were never meant to be. The old corner store where he’d steal glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking. It all burns a hole straight through your chest, the memories hitting you harder than the humid wind in your face.

You don’t stop. You can’t. The images flash by in a blur, each one slicing deeper into your already bleeding heart. It’s like you’re running through a living nightmare, haunted by ghosts of the life you thought you might have had. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, the tears streaming freely now, hot and unrelenting. Mascara streaks down your cheeks, black rivers tracing the contours of your face—a perfect, messy representation of where you were mentally.

You push yourself harder, faster, until your legs scream in protest and your lungs burn with every gulp of air. The world around you blurs, the people, the cars, the houses���none of it matters. You keep running, driven by the pain that won’t let you rest. Your chest heaves, a raw ache settling in as the adrenaline begins to fade, replaced by the crushing weight of exhaustion. You stumble to a halt, bent over, hands on your knees once more as you gasp for air.

You’re breathless, hair a wild halo of loose curls sticking to your tear-streaked face. Your vision swims, a cocktail of sweat and tears blinding you as you look up at the sky, feeling nothing but the hollow ache in your chest. Here you are, in the place where you once made all your memories with him. But it feels like a stranger now—empty, cold, and unwelcoming.

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, hands braced on your knees, gulping down air as if you’ve just surfaced from drowning. You can’t even process where you are—all you can feel is the tight, agonizing pressure in your chest, like your heart is being squeezed by an invisible fist. You’re vaguely aware that people are walking by, probably staring at you, but it’s like they’re part of a distant dream. Their gazes feel like nothing more than a blur on the edges of your vision.

But you don’t care. You’ve been stripped raw, exposed in a way that makes everything else fade into insignificance. You push yourself upright, your fingers digging into your waist as you take in deep, ragged breaths, trying to slow the pounding of your heart. The mascara streaks have dried, the salty residue of your tears leaving your cheeks tight and sticky. You close your eyes for a moment, just a moment, trying to pull yourself together.

Then you hear it. A voice—his voice.

"Y/N?"

The sound of your name hits you like a bolt of lightning, jolting you back to reality. You freeze, your heart skipping a beat as the familiarity of it wraps around you like a cold, clammy hand. You know that voice better than your own, and yet, hearing it now feels like a punch to the gut. It’s haunting, the way it slices through the air, so soft and unsure, as if he’s almost afraid it might actually be you standing there, looking as broken as you feel.

Slowly, you turn around, your eyes widening as you meet his gaze. Rafe Cameron stands just a few feet away, his expression a mixture of shock, concern, and something else you can’t quite place. For a second, it feels like the world stops spinning, the sounds of the town fading into the background until it’s just the two of you, standing there like the past has come back to drag you under.

He takes a hesitant step closer, his brow furrowing as he takes in your disheveled appearance—the wild curls, the streaks of makeup, the look of utter devastation in your eyes. You can see the questions forming on his lips, the confusion in his eyes. But you’re too stunned to speak, the words trapped in your throat. All you can do is stare back at him, feeling the sharp sting of fresh tears welling up again.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Rafe’s voice is laced with genuine concern, the sincerity in his tone unmistakable. His eyes scan your face, searching for answers, and for a fleeting moment, he looks like the Rafe you used to know—the one who held you close on quiet nights, the one who made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

But the sound of his words makes you feel sick to your stomach. The irony of his compassion now, when it feels like he’s the one who drove the knife into your heart, twists inside you like a dagger. You let out a bitter, humorless laugh, the sound cutting through the air like shattered glass. It’s as if he’s playing a cruel joke, and you’re the punchline.

“What do you care?” you snap, your voice raw and venomous. You can feel your top lip quiver in disgust as you shake your head, unable to look at him without the pain flaring up like a fresh wound. His expression falters, the shock evident in his eyes. It’s like he’s been slapped, his confusion deepening as he takes in the sheer hurt radiating off you.

“You don’t get to act concerned,” you spit out, each word drenched in the bitterness that’s been festering inside you. “Not after everything. Not after this.” The last word comes out almost as a whisper, your voice breaking under the weight of it.

Rafe’s expression shifts, a deep crease forming between his brows as he stares at you with wide, bewildered eyes. It’s almost laughable—the look of shock, the utter confusion twisting his features as if he genuinely has no idea why you’re standing here, mascara-streaked and heartbroken. He takes a small step closer, his voice soft and pleading.

“What did I do?” he asks, sounding clueless, like a child who doesn’t understand why they’re being scolded. His tone is so sincere, so filled with concern, that for a split second, you almost believe him. But then the truth crashes over you again, sharp and unforgiving, and it sends a fresh wave of anger coursing through your veins.

You scoff, a bitter sound that feels like acid on your tongue. His naivety, his complete obliviousness to the damage he’s caused, only fuels the fire inside you. You look up at him, your eyes blazing with the kind of betrayal that words can’t fully capture.

“I don’t know, Rafe,” you say, your voice dripping with venom as you take a step closer, your gaze piercing right through him. “You tell me. Maybe an engagement, perhaps?”

You spit the words out, practically throwing them at him, your voice cracking under the weight of your own disbelief. You watch as realization dawns on his face, his eyes widening slightly, the color draining from his cheeks. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. It’s like he’s been struck dumb, caught off guard by the sheer force of your anger and the pain radiating off you in waves.

The silence between you is deafening, charged with the weight of everything left unsaid. You can see it in his eyes—the moment he pieces it together. And it’s almost satisfying, watching the horror settle in, watching him realize that the life he’s built, the future he’s promised someone else, has shattered you in ways he never anticipated.

“You didn’t think I’d find out, did you?” you whisper, your voice hoarse as the tears well up again. “You didn’t think it would matter.” The words hang in the air, heavy and accusatory, and for once, Rafe Cameron has no response. He just stands there, staring at you like you’re a mirror reflecting all the mistakes he’s made.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

The words fall from his lips like an empty promise, and you can’t help but scoff, the bitter laugh bubbling up uncontrollably. You know it means nothing. It can never mean anything. No apology, no amount of regret can ever take back what’s been done, what he’s taken from you. Your chest tightens as the anger swells up, hotter and sharper with each passing second.

“Oh, you’re sorry?” you spit, your voice rising in pitch with every word. You can feel your fists balling at your sides, your body shaking with the weight of everything you’ve tried to swallow down, tried to bury. “You’re sorry?”

You throw your arms up in the air, an exaggerated motion of frustration, a physical manifestation of everything inside you that’s about to break free. “You think some bullshit apology is going to make up for what you’ve put me through?” you shout, your voice rising to a scream. The words burst out of you in a raw, jagged rush, like you’re finally tearing through the wall of calm you’d built just to keep from falling apart. “You think saying ‘sorry’ is going to make me forget everything? Forget you? Forget the way you made me feel like I was the only one in the world and then turned around and chose her instead?”

Your breath is ragged, your chest heaving as your emotions spill out of you uncontrollably. You’re not even sure where the words are coming from now, but they come in a torrent, desperate and aching. "How am I supposed to wonder for the rest of my life," you continue, your voice shaking, "why you chose her instead? What was it about her that made you pick her over me, Rafe? What the hell did I do wrong?"

You step closer, not caring anymore about the distance between you. Your face feels hot, your pulse pounding in your ears, but you can't stop yourself. "You think I won’t wonder, every goddamn day, why I wasn’t enough?" you add bitterly, the weight of your words crashing down on you.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you, I… I did it because she’s stuck by my side through all of this stuff I’ve been going through.”

The words hit you like a slap, but you don’t let him see the sting. Instead, your head snaps over to him, your eyes narrowed so dangerously that if looks could kill, he’d drop right there, dead. Every ounce of frustration, anger, and betrayal gathers in the pit of your stomach, and your mouth twists into a bitter frown. It feels like your entire body is ready to explode.

“And what? I wouldn’t have?” you snap, voice raw with fury. “You didn’t give me the fucking chance to, Rafe!” Your heart is pounding now, each beat a furious reminder of everything you’ve been through—of the way he’s shattered you, piece by piece. “You gave up! The second things got a little hard between us, you gave up. We could’ve worked through it if you actually tried!”

The words fly out of you, harsh and cruel in nature, but they don’t feel like enough. You shove him, your hands landing firmly against his chest in a fit of frustration. “I love you, Rafe!” you scream, the sound of your voice trembling with the weight of everything you’ve been holding back. “I fucking love you, and it has destroyed me watching you give your all to someone else. You have ruined me!”

And that’s when it breaks. The dam cracks, the tears flood, and you’re not just crying—you’re sobbing, your body wracked with the weight of it all. Your chest aches with the sobs, your body collapsing under the strain as you stand there, shaking uncontrollably in the middle of the street. All the rage, all the hurt, all the unanswered questions spill out of you like a river that’s finally burst its banks.

Rafe stands frozen for a moment, as if unable to process the sight of you, broken and vulnerable in a way he’s never seen before. His face goes pale, his eyes wide with guilt and horror, realizing that he’s the one who’s caused all of this—he’s the one who’s done this to you. And the weight of that realization hits him harder than anything else could.

Without another word, he pulls you into his chest. The gesture is sudden, almost desperate, as if he needs to hold you as much as you need to be held. His arms wrap around you tightly, firmly, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. You can feel his body against yours, the warmth of his chest as you crumble in his arms, your sobs echoing between you both.

For a moment, you stand there in his arms, the two of you swaying slightly as if the ground beneath you is unsteady. His grip on you is firm but gentle, like he’s trying to hold together the pieces of you he’s broken, letting you cry out your frustrations, your sadness, your heartbreak. The tears flow freely, soaking into his shirt, and he just holds you tighter, his chin resting on the top of your head. He doesn’t say anything, because he knows there’s nothing he can say to make this better. So he lets you cry, lets you release everything you’ve been carrying.

For just a second, you almost let yourself lean into him. His hold feels like comfort—like a memory of what it used to be, back when you felt safe and wanted. But then the reality slams into you like a tidal wave. He’s not yours anymore. He belongs to someone else now, someone who wears his ring, someone who gets to wake up next to him every morning. The realization crashes down on you, a flood of emotions so overwhelming that you choke on your own sobs, the pain squeezing your chest until it feels like you can’t breathe.

“I can’t stand to see you like this, Y/N,” Rafe says softly, his voice trembling as he looks down at you. His eyes are filled with a deep sadness, like he’s finally seeing the full extent of the damage he’s caused. He pulls back just enough to see your face, his hands cupping your cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. The way he’s looking at you—it’s almost unbearable, like he’s mourning something he’s only just realized he lost. “This isn’t your fault,” he continues, his voice cracking slightly. “You’re right, it’s my fault. It’s my fault for not trying harder.”

His words are raw, filled with a regret you’ve never heard from him before, and it makes your heart ache even more. You want to scream at him, to push him away and tell him that it’s too late—that his apologies don’t change anything. But you’re too exhausted, too broken to fight anymore. You just stare at him, tears still streaming down your face, your lips trembling as you try to find the words to respond.

“But it doesn’t mean that I don’t… love you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. The confession hangs between you like a fragile, broken thing. You can see the truth in his eyes, the love that’s still there, buried beneath layers of mistakes and regret. It’s there, as real as the pain in your chest, and it cuts you deeper than anything else he could have said.

The words sink into you, bittersweet and hollow. It’s what you’ve wanted to hear for so long, and yet it feels like a cruel joke now, a confession that comes far too late. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you try to steady yourself. His love—it doesn’t change what’s happened, it doesn’t erase the hurt.

“You don’t mean that,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you shake your head, refusing to let his words sink in. It’s almost like you’re trying to shake them off, as if denying them will somehow lessen the pain. You close your eyes tightly, squeezing out the last of your tears because looking at him—seeing the raw, honest look in his eyes—will only make it hurt more. It’s too much. The truth you’ve waited so long to hear is finally being spoken, but it’s laced with the bitter sting of timing that’s all wrong.

Rafe’s grip on you tightens, his hands trembling slightly as he holds your face, desperate to make you believe him. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he searches your expression, as if he’s looking for a way back to you, a way to undo everything that’s happened. “No, I do mean that,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. He pauses, the words hanging between you, heavy and filled with a regret so palpable it feels like a punch to your gut.

“I’ve known it since the day I met you,” he continues, his eyes boring into yours as if he’s trying to imprint this moment into his memory, to make you feel the weight of his confession. “But I made a mistake. Letting you go was the biggest mistake of my life, and I know that now. I’ve known it every single day since. And that—” his voice cracks, and he looks away for a brief moment, as if he can’t bear to see the pain on your face—“that is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”

The sincerity in his voice sends a fresh wave of agony crashing through you. You want to scream at him, to tell him that it’s too late, that he’s made his choice, and there’s no going back now. But the words get caught in your throat, choking you, leaving you gasping for breath. Because as much as you want to deny it, as much as you want to hate him, there’s still a part of you—deep down—that wants to believe him. That wants to believe you’ve always been the one, that he’s just as haunted by the loss as you are.

But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s made his choice. He’s with someone else now, someone who gets to have the version of him you once dreamed of, someone who’s standing by his side while you’re left picking up the pieces of what could have been. And that reality cuts through you like a knife, leaving you reeling.

“I wish that mattered,” you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible, each word a struggle as you force yourself to look him in the eyes. The storm of emotions churning within you feels like it might tear you apart from the inside, but you need him to hear this, to understand the depth of the pain he’s caused. “But it doesn’t change anything, Rafe. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re engaged to someone else, and I’m just… supposed to accept that.” Your voice breaks on the last word, the sound coming out fractured and hollow.

Rafe’s expression drops, and for the first time, you see something close to genuine despair flicker across his face. His blue eyes, which once held a spark of recklessness and life, now look empty, consumed by a dark realization. It’s as if he’s seeing the full weight of his choices for the first time, the horrifying dread of what he’s done sinking in like a stone dropped into still water. You can see the exact moment it hits him—the gravity of the mistake he’s made.

When he proposed to Sofia, he thought he was finally getting his life together. After years of chaos and self-destruction, he believed he was taking a step towards stability, towards becoming the man he always felt he needed to be. He convinced himself that this was the right path, that Sofia was the safe choice—the one who could ground him, the one who would stand by him through thick and thin. But now, standing in front of you, seeing the devastation in your eyes and hearing the brokenness in your voice, he realizes the truth he’s been running from all along.

He’s made a grave mistake—one he can’t undo.

The realization tears through him like a knife, and his knees nearly buckle under the weight of it. He looks at you with a mix of horror and regret, his face pale, his eyes glassy as if he’s about to crumble right then and there. He reaches out a hand, hesitating, his fingers trembling as if he’s afraid to touch you, afraid that this might be the last time he ever gets the chance.

“Y/N…” he breathes out your name, his voice breaking on the syllable. He looks utterly lost, like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into the abyss. “I—” His words falter, and he closes his eyes, a shaky exhale escaping his lips. When he opens them again, they’re filled with a sorrow so deep it takes your breath away. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was finally getting my life together. But I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.”

You shake your head, feeling your heart shatter into a million pieces. His confession feels like a dagger twisting in your chest, confirming what you’d feared all along—that he never truly let you go, that you weren’t just imagining the way he used to look at you, the connection that lingered despite the time and distance.

“But you chose her,” you whisper, your voice laced with a bitter sadness. “You chose her over me, Rafe. And now you’re standing here, telling me this as if it changes anything. But it doesn’t. It’s too late.”

The words hang between you like a death sentence, and you can see it in his eyes—the crushing realization that he’s lost you for good, that this is the consequence of his choices. The haunting realization that he’ll have to live with this regret, this aching emptiness, for the rest of his life.

[fallbhind]

‘OH SWEET 'N SOUR LEMONS’ RAFE CAMERON

genre smut wordcount 2k

“we can work on it”

content warnings ,, dilf!rafe, old!rafe, young!reader, fem!reader, unprotected sex (wrap that shit 'fore you tap it), oral (m! receiving) p in v, slight tit play, more of 'make up' or 'i'm sorry' sex rather than it coming from real emotions, aftercare tho.

per usual, another fucking (typical) stupid argument with rafe because you wanted to hang out but he had his kids that weekend, so he was busy. sure, you typically wouldn't mind, but his ex-wife was totally slacking on her duties, and maybe you thought that because you were almost a decade younger than rafe, but he'd been stuck with the kids for almost a month with no break.

it wasn't fair. but you knew that bitch-of-an-ex was doing it out of spite because he found someone younger, hence, you.

you were helping the kids to bed, in the maze of tanneyhill, you led them to their bed room. "in your beds." you said softly, tucking them both in one at a time. you pressed a soft kiss onto his little girls head.

with a flick of the light, the dark room was instantly lighted with the ladybug night light plugged into the wall, "night." you muttered to the two, leaving the door cracked. you were a good stepmother, a stark reminder in you and the children's relationship. you'll never be able to replace their real momma, but you can try.

rafe was rewinding after a long day. flicking through every channel as you settled on the couch, the couch dipping underneath your weight. rafe constantly fiddled with the ring on his finger, which reminded him more of his dad every. single. day. after a few minutes of dwelling on the animal planet channel, he switched it, before deciding to switch off the tv. you both saw your reflections. rafe's pouting expression, and your even poutier expression.

he turned the tv back on, disliking the fact he could just see his reflection in the tv, as well as yours as the screen went to black. the soft flicker of the tv coming back on, you drew your attention to it.

"mm." rafe said gruffly, a poor attempt to start even the slightest conversation with you. you let out a soft grunt back, initially saying he could continue. "'m sorry about earlier." he said quietly, not to mention quickly.

you nodded softly, turning to look at him as he scratched his fingers into his freshly shaved buzz cut. not even going to lie, he looked oh so good in his blue-white button up shirt. "me too." you whispered back, going back to whatever was playing on tv, feigning you were actually interested.

you nervously played with the drawstring off your jacket. you were more of a carefree person with a hobo-ish style. and it fit rafe just fine. "nothin' good is on." you said admittedly, turning your head towards rafe, unconsciously moving closer to him.

he shifted slightly, his arms welcoming you in his hold. you leaned into him, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath. rafe's arm calmly laid across your shoulder, weighing you down slightly. you pulled your legs off the ground, pulling yourself closer to rafe. that was the main difference between rafe and his ex and you and rafe. you and him got over arguments, while rafe and his ex tended to go with out talking. maybe it was just your attachment issues with him you couldn't stay mad, or you didn't want him to say he wanted to break up because sure, the sex was good, but at the end of the day, you always wanted to be a mother to his kids rather than leaving.

"your a good co-parent." rafe whispered into your head, referring to when he flew a few not so friendly insults towards you and trying to replace his ex. sure, that's really what you were trying to do, but it didn't mean that it wouldn't hurt when he called you out on it. maybe that was partially you didn't want to face the reality of the doubts you could ever replace his girls mother. but you can try. she wasn't even a good mom in the first place, you thought to yourself, and you weren't wrong.

you nodded softly when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "i know i am." you said back to him. he rollled his eyes at the oh so bratty comment back to what he told you. "brat" he mumbled to you.

after a boring thirty minutes, rafe opted to go lay down, he left you alone in the living room to dwell about really anything. rafe was so frustrating, sexually and in general. you made your way to the bedroom, turning off the light off in the living room. you traveled your way through the dark hallway to your bedroom. you passed the girls bedroom, hearing their peaceful soft snores. you stoped at their bedroom, peaking into their bedroom where the soft ladybug night light flickered gently.

you left their door cracked, walking towards your bedroom. greeted by rafe, "hey baby, c'mere," he said softly, "come lay down." he put his book on the side of the bed.

you changed into your pajama, then you crawled into bed with him. "'m so tired." you whispered, laying right on top of him. you threw an arm around his torso, burying your face into his pillow on his side of the bed.

he nodded, "i know. but i need you to do something for me." he cupped your cheek, his hand tangled in your hair. rafe pulled you in for a gentle kiss, "i've been s'pent up since the kids have been here for weeks 'n know their sleepin'" his hand caressed your face ever so gently. after subtle hinting, you made a face before nodding before he hooked his fingers under his black fancy pants, pushing them down slightly, his boxers coming next.

it was almost gave him embarrassment on how fast it went up. but then again comes the factor of he hasn't been able to request your assistance since his children have been at home. while you enjoyed the bonding with his two daughters, he wasn't the only thing pent up. rather than having sex when they went to bed, the both of you watched tv.

you wriggled your way in between his legs, grabbing the base of his cock before gently licking the precum off his tip. he let out a soft groan, which was more whimper like than anything. you made him so submissive in a way, y'know, like he acts big and bad before sucking him off, but as soon as you lick his sensitive tip he becomes all whimpery, and it turned you on.

you slowly pushed your mouth all the way onto his cock, your plump lips moving up and down on him. he let out a soft noise out of pleasure, one of your hands going to cup his ball, feeling then already tighten.

you let out a whimper as his cock hit the back of your throat voluntarily. and it kept repeatingly hitting the back of your throat, and you let out a gagging noise, showing of your not-so-good-gag reflex. "t's'okay." rafe managed out, "we can work on it." he softly pushed your head down, not letting you up for breath of air, and than when he found himself nearer towards release, he let you up.

after inhaling air, you went back down to finish him. rafe convulsed, his hand falling away from the vice he had on your hair, his eyes rolled back, "fuck." he groaned, his back arching slight as he came in your mouth. "swallow it f'me." he tapped your chin, shutting your mouth for you. he held your chin in satisfaction as he watched you swallow his warm load. he wiped the slight load on the side of your face, which was what didn't go all the way into your mouth.

you sat up, kicking off your pajama shorts that rafe had bought you, than hooking your thumb on the waist band of your underwear, pulling it down. he shuddered, attentively going to touch your shining pussy. he massaged your clit, earning a good and well earned soft moan from you.

he pulled you back onto him, allowing you to insert his cock into your tight hole. you both let out collective groans and moans. your room felt like a fucking sauna the way your body caught fire when you made contact with his body. you rolled your hips, like how your eyes rolled into the back of your head. you let out another moan as your hips rocked back and forth on him.

he grabbed your hips, slowing your pace down by the slightest. rafe held you in a vice, despite your quiet(ish) mewls of protest wanting to rock your own hips (key thing to why he thinks your a brat). "sh, you're a good girl." he whispered insight to your slight protests

you let out a soft moan when he pushed you further down onto him, "rafe!" you cried out, allowing him to rock you back in forth before allowing you to do as you wanted, his hands merely resting on your thighs rather than have your hips in a vice grip.

you rolled your hips, creating friction between you and rafe. the sweat smells filled both your and rafe's nostrils. you started to slowly bounce on his cock, both you and rafe letting out groans and moans at every bounce. he started to unbutton your night shirt to release your tits, they were following each of your bounce. you used rafe's shoulder to provide you stability, whilst he was unclipping your bra from your body.

rafe whispered sweet praises as he and you both neared release. his hands went to cup your titties as they bounced. he massaged your tits when they bounced. they weren't huge, nor were they small. they were perfect for rafe, his hand cupping one and it fit in his hand. he shuddered when you convulsed, and in a moment of breath-taking pleasure, you came around his cock, your hot liquids gushing around his cock. it was a piece of art, really. with your panting and the squelch of your come around his cock, you rested against his chest as he let out yet another string of his load inside of it, combined with your and his come, it looked even better than before.

"maybe you'll get your own kid tonight." he whispered hoarsely, pulling you off his body to go to the walk in bathroom.

he grabbed a rag, running it over cold water to clean you. you laid breathless, spread out on yours and his bed. when he made his way back to the bed, he turned on the box fan in the floor to help cool the both of you off. he took the cool wash cloth, pressing it against your thigh, you body indistinctly flinching from the contrast of your boiling body to the cool rag being moved along your thigh. he gently rubbed your sensitive pussy with the rag to clean up any other liquid that might've found it's way out of your cunt.

"there you go baby." he whispered, gently pressing a kiss against your forehead, your eyes half lidded as you were on the verge of passing out. rafe helped you put on a new pair of underwear, but the same bra and pajamas. he picked your underwear from off the floor, going to throw them in your dirty close basket. he changed into a pair of boxers. the room reeked of sex, and he smelled like it himself. he plugged in your favorite air freshener into the wall before pulling himself to rest. he laid sat up in bed, scrolling on social media as he held you in his arms.

when he found himself dozing off with the phone in his hand, he sat it on the nightstand. he laid his head on yours as he fell asleep for the night, it was a really cute sight, some might say. like something out of silly rom-com, or any romantic movie, really.

TAGS .ᐟ @archiveofvirtue @sematarygirls @beausling @mattsdolll @pr3ttyf4wn

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (6) r.cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, DUBCON, dd/lg, sugar daddy rafe, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression. little editing, barry doing barry things 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Enjoy!

word count: 4.5k

In which your Daddy finally takes you to the country club.

masterlist

You were reading—slowly but surely. You took each sentence of the chapter book word by word, sounding out each syllable until it made sense to you. With a pink highlighter, you marked over every word you didn’t know the meaning of. You’d ask Rafe about those later or spend some time flipping through the dictionary. You flipped around in the cloud of linens you called a bed, attempting to find another comfortable position. You were reading about a girl with cat-like superpowers and the adventures she went on with her pet cats. 

Lana had told you about all the stray cats she feeds out by her house and how a lot of them will let her pet them once they’ve been around her long enough. You’ve been doing your absolute best to stay on Rafe’s good side, knowing the next thing you’d ask him was if he’d let you get a cat. You knew there were plenty out there that needed good homes, just like you did at one point. 

You didn’t ask him to take you anywhere unless he invited you. And after that lady had that outburst at the grocery store with him, his invites became less frequent. Every week, he took you to ballet practice and straight home. You reminded yourself to be grateful even for that experience since it kept your boredom at bay. When your Daddy called, you came straight away. When he told you to stay in your room, you stayed. When he held your wrist so hard that they bruised, you kept tears from escaping your eyes. When he brought you a present, you thanked him with your words and happily with your mouth. 

A knock at your door caused you to sit up straight. You didn’t ever need to respond with “come in,” as the knock was just a warning that he was coming in, not a request. Rafe eyed you, the crinkles in his eyes letting you know he needed sleep before he looked down at his expensive gold watch. “If I’m not mistaken, I was invited to a one-o’clock tea party and lunch, and my host has yet to retrieve me.”

You palmed your face, your cheeks heating up. “I lost track of time, sorry.” You closed your book, stood, and straightened out your short gingham dress, “Everything should be ready though. Bunny is dressed. I just need help carrying all the guests.”

Before you could leave your book on the bed, Rafe said, “Bring it. I want you to read me somethin’.”

You agreed although the idea made you nervous. You grabbed Bunny, who was dressed in a matching gingham outfit, and then directed Rafe over to your mountain of stuffed animals. Impressively, he grabbed the six stuffed animals in one fell swoop, “Got ‘em, let’s go.”

Now that it was starting to get nicer outside, Lana suggested turning your tea parties into picnics on the front lawn. She’d laid out a floral linen sheet and placed a beautiful flower centerpiece in the middle, along with a wicker basket. You took your stuffed animals one by one from Rafe’s hand, placing them perfectly along the edge of the sheet, “And you sit here, Daddy,” You directed him and waited for him to get comfortable, “I’ll go get the sweet tea and finger sandwiches!” 

“Don’t run!” Rafe shouted after you as you hurried back into Tannyhill. As soon as you were out of his line of sight, you picked up your speed, looking to find Lana. 

You found Lana in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the array of desserts, “These look beautiful, Lana!” You exclaimed as she finished piping pink icing onto the cupcakes. You opened the fridge to grab the pitcher of sweet tea. “Did you make sure to add extra lemons? He really likes extra lemons-“ 

“Yes, I did, I know,” Lana responded, “Don’t be so worried, it’s just Rafe.” 

You set the pitcher on the counter, taking a deep breath, “He wants to hear me read my book, Lana.”

“So? You’ve been doing so well in our lessons! You sound great to me when you’re reading and you’re only going to get better. The long, fancy words will come later,” She lifted the tray of sandwiches and desserts and you took it into your hands, “You’re a smart girl.” 

“I am?” Lana smiled warmly, making sure you were carefully holding both the pitcher and tray. 

“Yes, you are,” She assured you, “Go enjoy your lunch. Afterward, you’ll help me with the laundry, right?”

You beamed back at her, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” 

When you made your way back to the front lawn, Rafe was where you left him but his phone was pressed to his ear. As soon as he saw you, he said, “---Everyone has dirt. Everyone has a weakness. Find it. I gotta go, I really don’t want to hear about this shit again.”  You carefully set down the tray and pitcher, Rafe having intense conversations over the phone having become very natural to you. 

Rafe let out an annoyed breath, setting his phone down, “Doesn’t it look delicious, Daddy?” You asked, cutting through the tension. 

Rafe nodded, “It does. This is the highlight of my day,” He admitted, “You’re the highlight of my day, Bambi.” 

Your nervousness slowly turned into eagerness as Rafe looked at you. He always looked at you like you were something precious, even if you felt the opposite, and you found that you could easily be yourself around him. Although it seemed you were figuring out who you were every day that you were at Tannyhill. 

You poured Rafe’s drink into an antique-looking glass, one that Lana had entrusted you with taking care of, “Made just how you like it,” You handed it to him and promptly began to hand out the rest of the dishware, making sure Bunny and your stuffed animals had tiny replicas of them. With small tongs, you carefully placed sandwiches on your and Rafe’s plates, “I like pickles now. They aren’t so bad.”

“Oh, thank God,” Rafe responded with his mouth full, already halfway through his first sandwich, “I was really worried there for a second.”

You giggled, “You were worried?”

“I was as soon as you tried one and said you didn’t like it,” Rafe said, which made you laugh more, “This just confirms you’re perfect. And open-minded. And beautiful.”

“Me liking pickles means that I’m beautiful.” You were trying to follow his logic, your cheeks heated in embarrassment, but he interrupted you with a messy kiss.

As you finished up lunch, you found yourself entangled with Rafe, your legs over his lap and leaning against his chest as you opened up your book. You hoped starting with chapter one would make it easier, knowing you’d read it at least five times this morning. Luckily, you now had someone who could tell you the meaning of the words you had the most trouble with. Rafe used the strategy of not only defining the word but using it in an example sentence. 

“Ill-u-min-ate.”

“Every time you walk into a room, you illuminate it with your beauty.” 

“Haz-ar-dous.”

“It would be very hazardous to get between me and my Bambi.”

“Fuh-ruh-strat-ed.”

“Seeing you naked gets me extremely frustrated.”

“I thought you said it meant to angry,” You countered, and you could feel him grinning. 

“Words can mean different things,” He spoke cryptically, “Hey, you know, I’m really impressed with your reading, Bambi.”

You straightened up and turned to look at him, “You mean it?”

“I’m really proud of you,” he nodded. “I wasn’t sure if Lana could help you all on her own, but I think you’re making good progress.” 

You wrapped your arms around him, immediately needing to physically express your satisfaction, your weight effectively toppling the two of you over. Pride was a new feeling that you were getting used to. “Does this mean I could go to a real school? Like in the movies? Maybe law school? Like Elle Woods?” You straddled Rafe, his hands gently exploring the backs of your thighs.

“Are you talking about Legally Blonde?” Rafe’s eyebrows raised, his eyes undoubtedly flashing to a past memory, probably related to his sisters, “Did Lana show you that?”

“It was really good,” You nodded, “How far away is Stanford?”

“Far,” Rafe stated, and you got the feeling he wasn’t explaining as much as he could, “Let’s not  — uh, let’s focus on just reading a chapter book. Once you’re reading like Shakespeare and shit, we can talk about college.” 

“Okay,” You agreed, pressing your nose to his, “How many books do I have to read before we get a kitty cat, Daddy?”

“I see what you did there,” Rafe stared you down. You gave him a mischievous look as you pressed your lower half closer to his. “I think Daddy’s going to need a lot of convincing on that idea as well.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt Rafe’s fingers trailing over your panties, “What can I do to convince you, Rafey?”

You saw the lust in his eyes. That was one nickname he seemed to like even more than Daddy. “Slide those panties to the side and take Daddy’s cock out.”

“But the guards–” You rushed out, and Rafe’s grip tightened on your thighs. 

“You didn’t seem to mind when you climbed on top of me,” Rafe countered, “C’mon, you have to finish what you started, little girl.”

After those words, you tried to ignore the idea of one of Rafe’s men catching a glimpse of what the two of you were doing. You did as Rafe said but as timidly and covertly as possible, sliding your panties to the side and then undoing his zipper. Like Rafe had taught you before, you spit into your hand, rubbing the liquid against your hole and using the rest to lubricate his tip. 

You looked Rafe in the eyes before he could command you to, and Rafe gave you the same proud look that he had on his face when he complimented your reading skills. Rafe sat up on his hands, and as you placed him against your entrance, you made sure the skirt of your gingham dress was fully covering your ass. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you slowly enveloped every inch of him. 

You whimpered into his ear, already feeling overwhelmed. Your thighs burned as you tried to move up and down his length, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were doing it wrong. You and Rafe didn’t often have sex in this position, and if you did, Rafe would just end up pinning your hips in place and thrusting up into you. In this position, you were almost in complete control, and it made each sensation feel even more heightened. 

“Grind into me,” Rafe spoke huskily, “It’ll feel better that way.”

You started to roll your hips against him, and instantly you felt something building within you. With that motion, you could feel your clit rubbing against him. As you controlled the speed and how deep he was inside of you, you adjusted it entirely to your liking, and it surprised you how good you made yourself feel, “You gonna make yourself cum on my cock, Bambi?”

You gave him a shaky nod, “Y-Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Cum for me.”

You whimpered into his ear, suddenly burning up even though you were directly under the sun. “Thank you, thank you,” you muttered breathlessly. “Thank you, Rafey.”

“Look at you,” Rafe said, “My grateful little girl is squeezing me so good. Keep going, baby.”

Rafe squeezed you tightly in his arms like he was hugging you as you felt him fill your insides. “Fuck,” Rafe grunted in your ear, “Didn’t know you were so good at that.”

Rafe was doing something he promised himself he’d never do. 

Maybe this would’ve been an option at the beginning of their relationship when he wasn’t so attached. The idea of doing this now … every fiber of his being was telling him that this was wrong. “Everybody has a weakness. You told me that, right? I did some digging. Some super fucking deep digging,” Barry had started. 

Atlantic Crest Properties is one of Cameron Development’s biggest rivals both on the island and the mainland. Nathaniel Sterling, the CEO, was one of Ward’s closest friends, but since his death, Rafe had struggled to maintain Nathan’s favor. In fact, he disliked Rafe so much that he was purposely starting to poach Cameron Development’s construction laborers and spreading misinformation about the company’s financial status. 

Rafe had worked hard to dig the company out of debt, and Sterling was preventing future investors from giving the company a chance, “There’s this high-end bar on the mainland that he always visits, placed called the Platinum Parlor. This guy is there every weekend, at least. One of my boys tells me that the place is basically a front for a swingers club. They won’t let you in unless you’re a member, and there’s like secret codes you use to, you know, get access to what you’re looking for.”

“Get to the point, please.”

“Basically, he’s a freak. He always asks for a girl named Venus. My boy was telling me this, and I realized I knew that girl; she used to buy from me. I rode over there looking for her before her shift started, and I offered her some powder for some information. She couldn’t tell me everything, but he’s shown her videos of him doing some stuff, and he always asks that she wear pigtails, a plaid skirt, glasses, the whole school-girl look …” Rafe listened as Barry delved further into all the debauchery he’d heard. 

“...what are you implying, Barry?”

“I’m trying to say you have the perfect tool to solve yo’ problem. This is the only thing the dude gets off on, and I know his wife ain’t home dressing up for him. You have the most innocent girl in the world, and she actually likes wearing her hair in pigtails.”

“I know you’re not telling me I should let him fuck her–”

“No, no, Rafe! I’m saying that you can let him think that he can for as long as you need him to. That’s your in.”

“Fuck, I don’t wanna do that.”

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve ever done, country club.”

Barry was right about that. 

You liked the way the Kooks dressed, and they all seemed to exude happiness. They matched and coordinated every piece of their outfits, and even the ones playing sports had at least one piece of expensive-looking jewelry on. 

Rafe’s black polo and khaki shorts were nicely pressed, and he looked every bit like a seasoned golfer. He also gripped the golf cart’s wheel in one hand, carefully and quickly navigating the expansive green course. 

After you made your first stop, Rafe started by showing you the basics of acting as his caddy. He pointed at the clubs he would most likely be using and made you practice grabbing them. He also placed you in charge of keeping up the scorecard, slowly explaining all the numbers you were meant to help keep track of. You quickly learned this was a more complicated game than you imagined, and you weren’t sure how much fun it would actually be to play it.

Still, you were overjoyed that Rafe had even invited you out of the house to the country club, of all places. You spent a total of two hours deciding what to wear that morning until Rafe ultimately made the decision for you, choosing a short-sleeve, collared white dress. He also helped you tame your hair into two high ponytails wrapped in pink bows. As soon as you saw how cute you looked, you made sure to ask Rafe if they made golf dresses in Bunny’s size. 

You watched intently as Rafe stepped up to the first tee, positioning his feet and adjusting his grip on the club with practiced ease. With a smooth swing, he sent the ball soaring through the air, landing neatly on the fairway with a satisfying thud.

“Wow,” Your mouth hung open as you watched, “That was amazing, Rafey!”

“You wanna try it?” 

Hands behind your back, you nervously stepped closer, “Relax,” Rafe said, “I’m gonna help you.”

The actual golf club was much heavier than you were expecting and probably too tall for you, but Rafe adjusted your position accordingly. You felt him pressed against your back, his strong arms enveloping your frame and his hands wrapped around yours. “You’re always going to start with a tight grip, and then it’s all about your stance.” Rafe placed his leg between yours, kicking your feet apart until they were about shoulder-lengths apart, “Bend your knees for me, sweet girl.” 

“This feels … hazardous,” You tried and you felt Rafe’s chest vibrate as he chuckled. 

He stepped back from you, “Try bizarre,” You nodded, mouthing the word quietly, but kept your stance, “But you look great. Now, for the backswing. When you swing, you’re going to keep your arms straight and shoulders relaxed, and I want you to turn your upper half until the club is all the way back.”

You tried to follow his list of instructions, but Rafe ended up grabbing ahold of you again to demonstrate the motion, “You’re going to let the club flow naturally through the ball,” He guided you until you were ready to entirely give it a go, “You got this, Bambi.”

You obeyed Rafe’s final instruction and were surprised that you actually hit the ball, although it landed about five feet in front of you. “Look!” you jumped from excitement. 

“You did it,” Rafe grinned, “Wanna try again?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your voice trailed off as another golf cart approached. Instinctively, you closed the gap between you and Rafe. 

“Mr. Cameron!” An older gray-haired man, maybe in his 50s, approached, grin hidden partially by a thick mustache, “So lovely of you to grace this fine club with your presence after so many years.”

His deep and commanding voice soon matched his stature as he climbed out of the cart. A shorter, younger man was riding in the passenger side. A gold name tag was pinned to the left side of his chest. “Mr. Sterling,” Rafe greeted back, and you looked up to see a tight, slightly painful grin on his lips. “From what I’ve heard, you frequent this place a little too much. Do they have a reserved parking spot for you yet?”

Mr. Sterling let out a pinched laugh.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” 

It was then that the tall man made deep, soul-searching eye contact with you, “Bambi, this is Nathaniel Sterling. He owns Atlantic Crest Properties, which operates here on the island. Nathaniel, this is my girlfriend, Bambi.”

Nathaniel reached out a hand, and you officially felt you’d been thrown into the spotlight. You hadn’t interacted with anyone outside of Tannyhill or your ballet class. Rafe nodded slightly, signaling that it was okay to accept his hand. The man’s grip was strong and calloused.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bambi,” He greeted you. 

“Hi,” You spoke softly, “You do work like Rafe does?”

“Oh, yes, and much better, sweetheart,” You smiled, believing he was trying to make a joke, “I saw your swing on the way up. With some more practice, I can see you becoming a pretty good player.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened. 

“Rafe’s gonna have to get you your own set of clubs,” Nathaniel smirked. “Or maybe you can have my daughter’s since she only uses them sparingly anymore.”

“That would be–” The words came out faster than you could stop them, “That’s a really kind offer, Mr. Sterling.” 

You looked up at Rafe, excited by the offer, “I’m sure I can afford a new set,” Rafe stated. 

“Anyways,” Mr. Sterling coughed to clear the tension, “If the two of you aren’t too exhausted after your game, you should join me at the Steakhouse for an early dinner. Why waste the opportunity for us to catch up.”

You got a similar feeling to when you were around Barry and Rafe, like the two of them were having a conversation with their eyes. Mr. Sterling seemed intimidating, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to see more of this place. 

“Sound good,” Rafe agreed, which you were grateful for, “We’ll see you there.”

After playing a few more holes and Rafe finishing your crash course on golf, he started showing you around. There were two Olympic-sized pools, a spa, daycare, and gym, and they even offered horse rides along the beach on special occasions. The two of you explored a women’s boutique—well, you explored it while Rafe had a conversation over the phone with Barry. You noticed Mr. Sterling’s name come up a few times but became distracted when you saw the perfect dress. 

Although you thought Rafe might say it was too fancy for dinner, Rafe immediately called the attendant over so you could try it on. It was princess style, with short sleeves tied with cream-colored ribbons and a skirt flowing out in three tiers. The attendant helped you into the corset, and you were practically locked in by the time you showed Rafe. 

He was already leaning against the payment counter, black card in hand. “We’ll take it; she’s going to wear it out,” he said as you twirled around. “You want anything else?”

“No,” You spoke breathlessly. “This is perfect. Thank you, Rafe!”

Rafe entwined his fingers with yours and held your hand throughout the entire walk to the restaurant. You found Mr. Sterling waiting for you at a table in the corner of the restaurant, with large windows on either side of him that looked out onto the beach. As he waved you over, Rafe leaned down to whisper to you, “You don’t have to say anything or answer any question you don't want to.” 

“Okay,” You said softly, knowing he was just looking out for you. 

“Rafe, Bambi,” He said as the two of you approached. You took the seat closest to the window after Rafe pulled it open for you, “How was the rest of your game?”

Despite the words he just told you, Rafe looked at you first as if he wanted you to answer, “It was really good,” You replied, trying to maintain a certain level of confidence, “I learned a lot and, uhm, the weather was just really perfect today.”

“I agree, it’s a beautiful day, and let me also say how beautiful you look in your dress, Bambi,” You had to glance away, a reflexive gesture to hide the embarrassed gesture that reached your face. You smiled despite the fact that your face was trembling, “It’s new?”

“Y-Yes, thank you. That’s—" You remembered the menu sitting on the table in front of you, and then you realized you were far too nervous at that moment to try to read it. “Do they have ice cream here?” you blurted out. 

Rafe’s lips parted, but Nathaniel interrupted, “I think you’ll be quite happy with the dessert selection. Order whatever you like,” You felt Rafe’s hands suddenly on your thigh. He was trying to hide how tense was, but it wasn’t working. 

When the waiter approached, Rafe ordered for you, which you were grateful for: chicken fingers, mac and cheese, and apple juice. He then went ahead and ordered you a dessert called strawberry crunch ice cream cake. 

Rafe and Nathaniel bantered for a while about business and things related to Kildare that you didn’t fully understand. For the most part, you focused on enjoying your food and addressing Nathaniel whenever he addressed you. Some of your nervousness washed away because the man seemed to smile and laugh in reaction to every word that you said as if you were the most amusing thing in the world. 

Halfway through the dinner, you leaned over to whisper in Rafe’s ear. 

“I need to go potty.”

Rafe nodded before pointing across the restaurant where he knew the bathroom was, “It’s over there. Go straight there and come back, please,” Rafe felt you squeeze his hand before you got up from your seat. 

Usually, he’d love to watch you walk away, but his eyes were entirely fixed on Nathaniel, who was watching you intently. 

“She’s quite … cute,” the man said sincerely, as if he were thinking deeply. “She’s so pure … hard to believe she was a whore when you found her.”

Rafe squinted, nodding his head, “She was never a whore, Nathaniel.”

“She knows how to fuck, doesn’t she?” 

“She comes from unfortunate circumstances, yes, but I’d appreciate it – greatly – if you didn’t call her that,” Rafe tone was sharp as he leaned closer, elbows on the table, “I really want to work something out with you, Nathaniel, but you’re not going to treat me like I’m just Ward’s son. I want something from you, and you want something from me. I’ll respect you if you treat me the same.”

“You’ve grown attached,” Nathaniel seemed to brush off Rafe’s intensity, “I apologize. Really, I’ve spent a short time with her, and I’m already quite enamored. I admire you, Rafe. You’ve trained her quite nicely.”

“She’s a good girl,” Rafe tried to set his emotions aside, and the feelings he had about you that seemed to make him go crazy. He needed to be cold. He needed to be the Rafe who’s able to pull a trigger and not feel any remorse, “She’s under tight lock and key. She’s under my watch, and I know exactly where she is 24/7.”

“Cameras?” Nathaniel’s interest peaked. 

“In her playroom,” Rafe shrugged.

“Huh,” The man’s jaw clicked, “I want pictures and videos, at the very least.”

This is what Rafe wanted but he couldn’t help but feel pause. The man in front of him was desperate. He could own Nathaniel with the knowledge he was giving up and the secrets that you could probably draw from in. It was dangerous involving you, but what Barry said was true, you were going to open doors for him. 

“At the very least?”

“Yeah, everything after that we can negotiate.”

Rafe could only think for a minute because you were happily skipping back towards the table. Your hands were cradled together, open towards him and holding peppermints, “Look, Rafe, they had a whole bowl of free mints in the bathroom,” You chirped, “I’m going to save some of these for Lana if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s fine.” Rafe smiled at you. “I was just telling Nathaniel about the amazing tea parties you like to throw.”

As you plopped down in your seat, your princess-style dress puffing up and then deflating like a balloon, your eyes widened. “It’s really fun!” you added. “Next time, I want to paint tea-cup handles. You should come, Mr. Sterling. Is that okay?”

The two men exchanged glances before Nathaniel narrowed his eyes back on you, running a hand over his face to smooth down his mustache, “That sounds delightful, sweetheart.”

reblog with a comment letting me know what you think to be added to my tag list!

[erwinsvow]

𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

summary: hiding your relationship with rafe from your friends is fun... at first.

word count: 2k

now spinning: freak by lana del rey

author's note: this one put me in a silly mood <3 i love this man <3 so cute it'll rot your teeth! enjoy!

He’s a bad habit. Your worst habit, in fact, one that you hide from everyone like a dirty secret.

At first you’re just embarrassed. You’re supposed to be a Pogue, you try to remind yourself every now and then, you’re supposed to hate him and everything he stands for.

You’re supposed to hate the pretty jewelry he buys for you on a whim, hate the stupid—or something like that— look in his eyes when he puts it on you and presses a kiss to the soft skin of your neck or wrist or ankle, and you’re especially supposed to hate the way he spends money on you. 

You’re supposed to hate all of it, but you don’t. In fact, you think you’re falling in love with Rafe Cameron.

Which is bad, so so bad, you don’t even have words to describe how terrible it is. Rafe—who your closest friends despise, and for good reason. He becomes an ass outside of the sheltered, private walls of your tiny bedroom, getting into fights and egging everyone into violence.

He’s completely different, like an entirely new person, and you should hate him for what he does to your friends and goads them into doing. 

Hate is the furthest thing from what you actually feel. You’re not even embarrassed anymore. You’re protective, because you know your friends won’t understand, that they’ll try to talk you out of your feelings, and you’ll have to show them the thing that you’re dreading the most of all, that you would defend Rafe to them. That you would take his side.

That you would become that girl you used to make fun of, screaming at your friends because you don’t know him like I do, and then running home, running to him, to feel better.

It’s gotten bad, and to avoid all of this, you don’t bring up your relationship to them at all. What started off as chance encounters and graduated into quiet, peaceful hours spent in each company without another care in the world, has now turned into a real relationship. A secret relationship, at that. 

Rafe wants to tell the world, and he especially wants to tell your friends. You convince him that it’s romantic to sneak around, with plenty of hidden kisses and longing gazes and making a fool out of everyone right in front of their eyes.

He buys the act for now, but you know he won’t for long. You think that he wants to rub it into your friends’ faces, that he got you despite how much they hate him. He doesn’t tell you it’s because he has to know, has to be sure that you aren’t ashamed of being with him.

𝜗𝜚

The first time you almost get caught is in Rafe’s truck—parked along the beach, in what was meant to be a cute little date. You pack sandwiches and fruit, freshly squeezed lemonade in a mason jar that you and him pass back and forth.

The two of you watch the sunset from the safety of his car, specifically because you’re worried your friends will catch you if they spot you on the beach with someone.

“This is good,” Rafe says, taking another sip out of the jar, his lips shining with the sugary juice. You want to lick it clean, but you hold off for now. “Where’d you get it from, again?” 

“I made it, Rafe,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “We have a lemon tree in the backyard. My parents like to grow their own stuff.” 

“Well,” he says, licking his lips. Damn it, there goes your chance to sneak a kiss in and act like it was for some other reason. “You should make more. Shit’s good.”

“Then take me on another date. I’ll make you a whole pitcher.” 

“Our next date is gonna be way better than this,” is his response, looking down at his half-eaten, heart-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

He notices your eyes get big, like you’re upset, and immediately follows up his own sentence.

“Not that this isn’t perfect,” he says, resting the mason jar in the cupholder. “It is. Perfect. Couldn’t ask for more. I just meant, next time, you won’t have to pack anything or juice any lemons, like a restaurant. All you have to do is wear something pretty and show up.”

You smile, giddily. 

“You have some lemonade, right there,” you say, pointing to the side of his lip, leaning in for a kiss, just about to close your eyes, when you hear the unmistakable hoot that is your boys, as in your other boys. “Shit-” and you duck, head resting on Rafe’s thigh as you try to get out of their eye-sight. You don’t sit back up until you make Rafe triple-check the coast is clear.

“Y’know, if you wanted to get freaky in my car, all you had to do was ask-”

𝜗𝜚

The next time is a month later, a month of bliss and joy that you still haven’t told your friends about. Rafe came over to help you finish baking lemon squares, but really just creating a mess and kissing you with sugary, citrusy lips and flour-coated hands. 

You take turns showering to clean off, because as much as you would love to rinse off together, your shower is not like the one Rafe has in his Tannyhill bedroom, and sadly, barely big enough for one. You go first, washing your hair and complaining about icing remnants, and send Rafe in after you while you dry your hair. 

On his way in, he tells you not to get dressed just yet. You sit in anticipation, wrapped just in your towel, brushing your hair absentmindedly. You drop the brush on your foot when you hear three sharp knocks on your bedroom window.

Crap. 

When you turn to look, it’s just Kie, and you sigh a breath of obvious relief. You wouldn’t be able to manage lying to everyone, but if it’s just Kiara, you might be able to get away with it.

She climbs in through the window, lying flat on your bed and starting to explain what’s going on—her feelings for Pope and some old feelings for Jayj that are coming to the surface. You half-listen, feeling like a terrible friend, but your heart is currently showering in your tiny bathroom, probably complaining about the luke-warm water and thinking about all the things he’s going to do to you when he gets out.

“Is your shower running?” Kie asks, ever-observant. “Dude, that’s like, so bad for the environment.”

“Oh, I-” your brain turns to mush. “I just stepped out to brush my hair, I’m going right back in. I’m so sorry Kie, I’m so distracted today. You know, I-I hate wasting water.” You stare at her for a second, wondering if she bought it.

“I’m just glad you care. JJ and John B don’t even recycle their beer cans. I’ll come back later, then?” and you nod, maybe a little too excited. “Are you gonna finish showering now?” she questions, watching you linger by the door. 

“Yes! Yes, I am. Bye, Kie,” you say, opening the door and closing it quickly, hoping Rafe doesn’t speak up. You drop the towel and climb into the shower, clasping your hand over his mouth quickly. You wait to hear your window close, and then the noise of her car driving away.

“Y’know, kid, if you were feeling that impatient, all y’had to do was tell me,” Rafe says, leaning in for a hot, wet kiss.

𝜗𝜚

It all breaks down because JJ is like a walking metal detector, eyes flitting to anything shiny and new and the questions never-ending, even when you’re glaring at him. 

Rafe bought it for you. A gleaming, pretty silver bracelet with a little pink heart hanging off, complete with the letter R engraved on the back of the charm. You try to sneak it in with your other bracelets, the beaded ones Kie makes, the thread friendship bracelets all of you share in matching colors, and you even throw on a watch just so no one notices something new on your wrist. It doesn’t work.

“Wow,” JJ starts, letting out a whistle. You freeze instantly. “What’d you do, rob a Kook and not invite us?” He comes up closer, taking your wrist in his hand and raising it above and below, inspecting it. 

“No, no…” you trail off, mind going completely blank on how to explain this to your friends. All you can think about is the soft way Rafe kissed your wrist while helping you put it on, and the not-so-soft two hours you spent at Tannyhill after. “I, uh-”

“What, you found it?” Pope throws in, and you start to nod, even though your friends know you better than that. “Because you should really turn it in, I mean, they’ll get you for that-”

“Trust me, I would know,” John B says, coming around to look at it closer. “I feel I’ve seen that before.”

“Yeah, I bet all the Kook princesses have ‘em and compare with each other.” JJ puts on a goofy, high pitched voice that would normally make you laugh. “Mine’s silver. Mine’s gold. Actually, guys, mine’s encrusted with diamonds.” 

“You know how much child labor funds the entire jewelry industry? They have kids mining in caves-”

“But that would actually make sense, Kie, because, like, they’re so tiny they’re the only ones who can just like, sneak on in there with their little tools, and just like-” JJ imitates, what you can only assume, is a child mining for gold with his hands. 

“They can grow diamonds in labs now. It’s so unnecessary and dangerous,” Kie says, looking back at you. “We should burn it, so it goes back into the soil.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” JJ says, getting up and putting himself between you and Kie, like a barrier. “Why would we do that? We could probably go get a couple hundos for that thing. Y’know how much beer we can buy with that?”

“He’s got a point there,” John agrees. You’re speechless.

“Well, does it have any markings? Because if we just return it, the owner might give us a reward for finding it.” JJ scoffs.

“Yeah, right, they’d probably think we stole it.”

“Well, we did, that’s like the definition of-” you cut Pope off before you can stop yourself.

“I didn’t steal it!” It comes out like a yell, even though you don’t mean it, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I didn’t steal it, okay, it’s mine, so can we please just drop it?”

You notice the boys lock eyes with each other, eyes wide, probably wondering what just happened. You turn away from them to look at Kie, about to apologize because you know she’s totally right about the whole child mining thing, when you see her eyes are fixed on your wrist.

“R?” she questions. “What’s the R stand for?” 

You drop your hand to your side, eyes shutting on their own as you release a tight breath. You really have no idea how to get yourself out of this one, until a voice pipes up from behind you.

“Why don’t you idiots take a wild guess?” The voice belongs to your boyfriend, your secret boyfriend. You guess it’s not such a secret anymore.

JJ is the first to react, exactly like you thought he would, too.

“No, no, gross, gross!”

John B stares at you like you’ve just run over his puppy. Kie has her eyebrows raised like she’s questioning everything she ever knew about you. Pope’s eyes are wide like coins, fist clenched like he’s about to start swinging.

You let out another breath.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask, turning your head to question Rafe, standing right behind you, his arm hanging around your shoulder now. 

“Had to tell ‘em eventually, kid. Guess today’s the day,” and then he uses his hand to squeeze your cheeks together, giving you a sloppy kiss and waltzing off in the direction he came from.All you hear is JJ—gross, gross, gross!

[softspiderling]

rafe cutting up fruit in the kitchen from the valentine's day i love you prompts??

prompt: shoulders hunched over a chopping board, carefully dissecting fruit to deliver it to you in a bowl from the valentines "i love you" prompts

☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

The other side of the bed was cold when you woke up, which was odd. Usually, you had to be the one dragging Rafe out of the bed, when he didn't have any plans in the morning, always lamenting that he "needed his beauty rest". You checked your phone to see if he left you any messages that he had to run out, but nothing.

"Huh," you muttered to yourself, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and getting out of bed. You considered trying to call him as you made your way downstairs, pausing when you heard cluttering from the kitchen.

"... Rafe?"

The cluttering stopped and you heard Rafe curse under his breath, your lips curling up in a grin as you stood frozen on the stairs.

"You think you can give me like, five more minutes, baby?"

"Trying to hide your side piece?"

You could basically see Rafe rolling his eyes at you, and you bit back a laugh.

"Feeling like a real comedian today, huh?"

"I'm hilarious, actually," you deadpanned, padding towards the kitchen, only stopping when Rafe called out your name, almost pleading.

"Five minutes. "

Sighing softly, you tipped your head back in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Just- Go back to bed. I'll be right up. Five minutes, I swear."

"Fine," you sighed, turning back around. "Not a second longer, Cameron, you hear me?"

You headed back upstairs, stopping by the bathroom to brush your teeth and tame your hair, before you crawled back into bed, checking the time. Even though you had just threatened to return back downstairs as soon as the five minutes were up, you decided to be less of a menace for once, scrolling on the phone until you heard Rafe coming back upstairs. You were all ready to tease him as soon as he stepped into the bedroom, but your words died in your throat when he came in, back first, turning to face you with a breakfast tray in his hands.

"Rafe..." you said softly, eyes wide as he slowly placed the tray on the bed. Pancakes, fruit salad, coffee, bacon, even orange juice were spread out in front of you.

"Morning baby."

He kissed you on the cheek before sitting back, grinning brightly at you.

"You hungry?"

You only nodded dumbly, opening your mouth when he lifted a spoon full of fruit salad and you almost moaned when the tiny pieces of fruit hit your tongue.

"Oh my god, this is amazing."

"Touch of lemon juice and honey does wonders," Rafe said, eating a spoon himself, but you only narrowed your eyes at him.

"Did you do this yourself?"

Rafe gave you a look and you gave him one back, lifting the bowl of fruit salad, as if to make your point.

"You cannot seriously tell me that you cut all this fruit up yourself. And made pancakes."

"You sound surprised."

You snorted, putting the bowl back down. "Didn't you guys have a cook and everything in the prime time? Sue me for thinking you're helpless in the kitchen."

"Well, joke's on you for underestimating a Kook," he teased, handing you a coffee mug, which you sipped you accepted, holding it carefully. "I uh.... Used to make breakfast for my dad. Me and Sarah. He always thanked Sarah like she did it all on her own and never said a word to me, so after a while I just... Stopped. But I figured you'd be a little more grateful than him."

Holding your mug, you stared at Rafe, your heart almost breaking for the poor boy in front of you.

"Rafe..."

He looked up and huffed, shaking his head. "Stop looking at me like that. 's fine, I got you now, right?"

"Of course," you said with a big smile, picking up a strip of bacon with your hand, to which Rafe only pulled a face.

"God, you can never take the Pogue out of a girl, can you?"

⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠂⠄☆

a/n: it was so easy to go down the route of rafe not knowing how to do anything in the kitchen except destroy it but i took a diff approach heheheh thanks anon for the request i hoped you liked it!! inbox is open my friends!! also tagging @sunderlust bc i can

[allbark-no-bite]

Maniac || Rafe Cameron x reader

summary: she’s dancing in the kitchen while Rafe’s falling in love

word count: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ smut

author’s note: inspired loosely by Macklemore’s ‘Maniac’

He's laughing now, low and attractive, his pearly teeth on display. His crossed arms bounce against his chest as it rumbles. From the radio sat on the counter, music bounces through the expanse of the kitchen.

"I am not dancing with you."

"C'mon! Get over yourself, Cameron!"

Warm, lemon yellow light slowly creeps across the white kitchen walls, and it makes her hair flash a rich golden color as she twirls through the sunbeams.

Rafe remembers exactly when he fell in love with her because it was a moment similar to this one. She's half dressed, dancing in the kitchen in her tube socks. Her hair is a mess, falling out of the already sloppy bun it's been thrown in, and he's not even sure she's wearing anything under the billowy mass of his shirt. The buttons are misaligned and he's half hoping it will fall further down her shoulder just so he can prove his theory.

God, does she get on his nerves. "Of you? Or looking like an idiot?" Rafe braces himself against the countertop, his lean body relaxed.

Right now he's just content to watch her, socked feet sliding against the white kitchen tile as she does what he has to admit is a fairly decent impression of the moonwalk. Thankfully he doesn't speak too soon because she stumbles over her own feet at the end, catching herself just before she hits the floor.

Rafe just shakes his head, blue eyes shining with a light that only she can put in them. "You're a maniac." His heart hurts. He wishes this wasn't so complicated.

Rafe met (y/n) through Topper, his best friend since grade school. Consequently, Topper was also (y/n)'s older brother. Now, he wants to make this point clear, he never set out to fuck his best friend's kid sister. Shit just happens. He had always liked her, of course, but everyone did. She didn't rat out anything they did at parties, and she was always down to hang out and do... other things. His favorite of those things being the time they had sex in the backseat of Topper's jeep. They'd emerged an hour later, faces hot and clothes rumpled, and returned back to the party as if nothing happened.

Rafe is sure Topper knows he's doing less than decent things with his little sister — they did leave his car reeking of sex for the whole next week — but for the most part, they keep whatever is between them under wraps. She says it's because she doesn't want to hurt her brother if things go south. Rafe knows it's because she's seventeen and doesn't want to commit to anything she doesn't have to.

"We aren't dating, Rafe. You know that."

He's just proposed that they go with Kelce and his girlfriend to the golf club tomorrow.

"Bullshit," he laughs, grinning from ear to ear. She was bad for him, her and her flighty indecisiveness, but so were a lot of other things he did. Rafe figured there were worse things that could kill him.

"You'll get over me eventually. I promise."

He's really grinning now because he knows she's all talk. "Sure," he relents, playing along for the sake of the conversation. "And when I don't?"

She's rolling her eyes now but still smiling as he takes her hand and twirls her around, her toes twirling delicately across the kitchen floor. "You're just like my brother. You'll find another Sarah Cameron and move on with your life."

He actually scoffs at that. "I'd rather not think about the things your brother does to my sister."

"I'm sure Top feels the same way," she refutes, sidling closer to Rafe until they're nearly pressed chest to chest. The collar of the shirt has slidden off her shoulder, well below her collarbone, and still there's no bra strap in sight. He swallows, a hand sliding up the back of her bare thigh to cup the curve of her backside and pull her closer to him.

She must notice his tentativeness because she offers him a cheeky look, cupping her hand over his own. "No need to be shy. If you're going to touch me then get going with it."

Rafe's blue eyes flit to hers, and the corner of his mouth quirks up into a shy smile, as if he's been caught contemplating and she read his mind. His other hand glides up her shirt, reveling at the warmth of her skin before sliding home. The bud of her breast pebbles under the swipe of his thumb and she shivers.

"What's wrong with being shy?" he mumbles, his head ducking to mouth at the cavern of her collarbone. Her body is warm and impossibly alive in his hands. There are often times like this one that he cannot fathom the fact that like him, she is a living, breathing person. He can feel her heart thumping under the weight of his palm, almost unbearably alive.

The tent in his pants must betray him because she laughs. "Rafe Cameron, you have never been shy a day in your life." Her hips grind up into his and he muffles a groan into her skin. He would say she knows him too well but really there's no hiding what's happening in his pants.

His fingers tug down at her shirt as he cranes his neck lower to mouth at the tender swell of her breast. A pleased sound escapes her. Before she can grip him through his shorts, he swiftly grabs her wrist, placing it instead on his waist. "Later," he huffs. His dick can wait.

When her hand again slips past the waistband of his boxer, his teeth catch her skin, reprimanding her. "Later, dammit," Rafe scolds, but there's no bite to his voice. He's smiling again as he kisses the welp better. His hands are on her waist, thumbs digging in below her hipbones to pull her body into his. Her fingers are in his hair, tickling his scalp and making him sigh into her skin. Rafe smoothes his tongue over the hickey forming on the top of her breast, making sure to attend to the other side as well.

With her hands still in his hair, Rafe drops to his knees on the kitchen tile. He is very, very pleased to find that she is not wearing panties. Narrowing his blue eyes, he shoots her a knowing glare. "You're nothing but trouble, kid."

Her hands tangled in his hair push his head back down. "You sound like you're trying to catch a case calling me that."

Rafe laughs at her impatience. At first he had been painfully aware of their three year age gap. She was Topper's litter sister for god's sake — practically a baby when he was a senior in high school. That number has faded over the years but it doesn't mean he doesn't like to tease her.

Grinning, his nose drags along the tan of her bikini line. She smells like sun tan oil and something he can't quite place. He would like to linger a while longer to figure it out but he's afraid she'll get too impatient with him.

Palms griping the backs of her thighs, he licks through her folds. The contact makes her body jump, but her fingers tighten as much as they can in his cropped hair, forcing his face closer. He just knows his jaw is going to ache tomorrow. Is it actually good head if it doesn't? He doesn't think so.

Rafe drags his tongue up to her clit before sucking at it. She squeaks at this, legs quivering beside his head. Just when he thinks she's going to lose her balance, she thankfully grabs on to the counter behind her before they both topple to the floor.

"Holy..." she begins, but doesn't even finish her sentence.

Grunting, Rafe has to force his wide shoulders in between her knees to keep them open as he laps at her. His tongue dips further into her, causing his nose to nudge her clit each time his mouth explores her further.

Eventually he becomes more insistent with his actions, lapping at her clit until she's whimpering, sensitive to the point that he doesn't know if she's more keen on shoving his head towards her or pushing it away. She comes with a cry, squirming in his hands as his tongue finishes the job properly.

"Oh god, I love you. Please. Fuck, you're— Right there."

Rafe pulls away just a fraction to breathe. "What'd you say?"

He's sure she can still feel his hot breath against her weeping cunt. There's arousal leaking down her thighs and he can feel it dripping down from his chin to his neck.

Panting, her cheeks are flushed as she looks down at him, but he has a feeling it's not from him. "What?" she stammers. "Nothing."

He grins cheshire-like up at her. His hands rub the backs of her thighs soothingly before squeezing her calfs. "You said the "L" word," he accuses.

Her eyes widen in realization. "No. No, I didn't," she protests.

Rafe rises to his feet, hands trailing up her body as his smile grows wider. She's trapped between his body and the counter and has no choice but to try and dodge him as he tries to catch her eyes. "What was it?" He taunts, laughing. "Say it again, baby?"

She tries to cover her face with her hands but with Rafe's overpowering strength, the attempt is useless. Even hiding halfway behind her arms, he can tell she's smiling. "I didn't! I didn't say anything!"

"C'mon! Baby. Baby, look at me." Rafe pulls her her rigid arms away from her face and holds them out to either side of her head. "Hey, I said look at me."

Leveling his gaze with her, they lock eyes for a moment, neither saying anything. Although her expression is fairly calm, if not a little pensive, he can tell she’s searching his face for a reaction. Timidly, he presses his lips to hers, stealing a chaste kiss before pulling away again.

“I love you too.”

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Prologue)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: A night at work leads Y/N to the bed of the Prince of Kooks and it results in a small miracle.

Masterlist

Working at a catering company is not exactly Y/N’s life dream, but it helps her pay for tuition so she deals with it. The black cocktail dress she is forced to wear for this event is driving her insane. It is itchy and so short that she worries every few minutes her underwear will show. She is struggling with the heels, fearing she’ll trip with no way of catching her fall. The tray in her hand holds lemon buttercups that make her mouth salivate like a dog. She navigates around the wealthy partygoers and offers anyone who looks interested a sweet treat. Most people barely look in her direction, let alone thank her; the wealthy really need to learn some manners. At least she only has three more hours of this. 

For once, Rafe didn’t get high as soon as he got off of work. He knew he had to accompany his dad to this networking event and he wasn’t about to make the same mistake of going to a work event high again. Not after last time. His regret for being sober is starting to grow, but the smell of vanilla makes him glad he can think clearly. Her bright smile is the second thing he notices after her vanilla perfume. It amazes him how she can still be so happy, knowing she’s been working since the start of the night. He wants to go get a lemon buttercup just to have an excuse to talk to her; however, the button on his suit jacket has another idea. It falls off of its string and starts rolling away from him. They watch as the button gets farther away and both go after it. Their eyes are focused on the button, which causes them to run into each other. 

Buttercups go flying everywhere and Y/N falls flat on her bum. Rafe tries to stop his fall, but all he really does is change the direction he falls in and he tumbles on top of her. His chest presses against hers. She feels his breath fight against hers and she tries her hardest to keep the attraction out of her eyes. Her mind snaps back to reality. She quickly pushes him off of her and she stands back up. 

Her hands search for the tray so she can go back to the kitchen to replace the soiled treats. He wants to go after her, but his dad stops him in his tracks under the pretense of talking to a client. The rest of the night is spent looking for the vanilla-scented waitress. He finally sets eyes on the one person he wants to see near the end of the night. Her body sits in a nook hidden away from everyone. She has her knees folded close to her chest and he can see she is reading something placed on her lap. The cold night air breezes through her hair, getting into her face but it doesn’t seem to bother her. The dress she is wearing absolutely drives him crazy. It hugs her curves perfectly and with the way she is sitting, he catches a glimpse at her underwear, which he has to pull himself to look away from her. “I’m glad I found you again, Buttercup. We didn’t get the chance to talk last time.” 

She looks up from whatever she is reading, giving him a small smile that doesn’t compare to the one before. He vows to make her give him that smile again. She can’t help but admit that she thinks he is funny and handsome. She thought that everyone at the event would be a high society person, who would look down at her. But whoever this guy is, he talks to her like she is human. Joking around with her and flashing her a charming smirk. His blazer is thrown across his forearm and she finds it attractive how the sleeves of his button-up are folded up his arms. It takes everything inside of her not to smile like an idiot when he speaks to her. “And it’s Button. Did you manage to get your button back?” she asks. He walks over, sitting on the wall across from her, “Yes, thanks for trying to help. Sorry, I knocked you off of your feet. What are you reading?” “It’s okay. It was my fault too for not looking. And I’m reading a script. I have an audition tomorrow for a student film,” she explains, flashing him the script she is reading. He gently snatches it out of her hand, “So you’re an actress, interesting. I could see that. Anything I would have seen you in?”

“No, just a bunch of student films for university. That’s it. But one day, I’m going to move out to New York or maybe LA and then get my big break. For now, I’m okay with just going to university and acting in student films.” 

“Well I’ve never seen you act, but I know you’ll make it big. I mean with a smile better than Julia Roberts’, how could you not?”

“Aww, thanks! Aren’t you going back to the party? Or are you hiding out too? You seemed to be a hit with the other business dudes.”

He looks at her with a grin, playfully knocking her foot with his, “You’ve been watching me. I’m hiding out from my father. He says I’m useless and can’t be trusted, yet he seems to want to parade me around at events like these. I just don’t understand him.” His hands play at buttoning his watch on and off. She looks at him with sad eyes, feeling bad about his parental pressures. He hates that he is the one to make her sad and all he wants to do is to give her the world to cheer her up. “I’m sorry your dad is such a jerk. The only useless thing I see here is your suit button,” she jokes to lighten up the mood. This is when she flashes him her award-winning smile and he wants to melt, “Thanks. I’m used to it by now.” Silence falls over them before Rafe feels the need to tell her more about his dad. She has eyes that tell him she can be trusted and if she is as sweet as her perfume, she must be hella sweet. “He doesn’t understand that I’m protecting him and the company. That’s me. Not Sarah. Me, Rafe. I’m the one.” His tears start to fall as his fingers press against his thumb to point toward him to punctuate his point. 

She isn’t sure what to say to him; she never had any problems with her dad. She moves to sit beside him, bringing his head onto her shoulder. He revels in her touching and lets himself feel comfort in her neck. After a few seconds, he looks up at her. Their eyes lock for a second. His lips near hers and she takes the chance by smacking their lips together. Their mouths move in tandem, his tongue moving against her bottom lip to ask for entrance. She lets him in and they fight for dominance. Eventually, she gives him full control. His hands move to the neckline of her dress, moving it out of the way so he can kiss her collarbone. 

Before things get too heated in public, she moves his head away from her skin. She places her forehead against his and quietly pants, “I really do want to continue this, but maybe not in a place we’d get arrested.” He loves the way she says it taking her hand into his to drag her to his truck. 

——

Rafe spins her around so her back slams against his door. His teeth gently tug her bottom lips and let it go to give her a kiss. His hand finds the back of her thigh, so he can hike it up to his waist. He separates for a second and brings his mouth to her ear, “My name is Rafe by the way. You’ll need to know it for when you are screaming my name later on.” She feels shivers run down her spine. His lips begin to descend the column of her neck and drops down to his knees. His head ducks under the skirt of her dress, using his teeth to pull her underwear down her legs. Once he has clear access to her pussy, he dives in to make her feel good. He starts his assault with her clitoris, swirling his tongue around the bud. Her head swings back in pleasure and her leg wraps around his shoulder. “God, I love the sounds you are making. You are doing so good, Buttercup. Do you want more?” he praises, looking up at her.

“Yes, please. More,” she cries out and brings his mouth back onto her. He gives a low chuckle at her words, moving his fingers to his mouth to get them prepared for her. His fingers move from his mouth to her vagina. It penetrates her hole and she is begging for him to give her more. Her hips start to buck to meet his movement. He adds another finger and the sound she lets out is music to his ears. Her walls start to tighten around his fingers. She lets out a loud gasp as she climaxes. He pulls his fingers out of her and cleans them off in his mouth. 

Standing at full height, he towers over her now. She gives him a wicked smile and stands on his tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “As much as I love the nickname Buttercup, I want you to be yelling Y/N for what I’m about to do.” It's her turn to kneel on her knees and pull down his clothes. He can cum in his pants just at the sight of her like this. She begins by pumping his cock in her hand, bringing the tip close to her lips. She gives it a little kitten lick and then continues to jerk him off. “Y/N, Y/N. Please, take me in your mouth. I need to feel you,” he moans out, lacing his fingers through her hair to push her head closer to where he needs her. She happily envelopes him in her mouth, using a hand to bring pleasure to what isn’t in her mouth. She continues to bob her head and swirls her tongue around his dick. 

She feels him twitch in her mouth, but he brings her up to full height before she can help him climax. “I want to come in you,” he begs, heading over to his bedside table to get a condom. She strips as he goes to get it, “Will you hurry up and get that thing on you? I need to feel you inside of me.” He quickly rips the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolls it onto himself after giving it a few pumps. The sight of her naked makes him want to drool; he knows she probably feels self-conscious being the only naked person in the room, so he rids himself of his clothes.

Her perky breasts are calling his name; therefore, he brings his head to suck on one of her nipples. The swirling of his tongue around her bud and her head jerks forward to rest on his head. “Enough foreplay, Rafe. Get your dick back in me before I take matters into my own hands,” she orders, moving his head from her boobs by his hair. He groans at her words, “Y/N if you do that, I’m going to have to punish you.” But he obeys her demands anyway. His fingers find their way back to her core to make sure she is wet enough for him. Finally, he brings the tip of his cock and pushes into her at a rough pace. He brings her leg back up to his waist and presses his chest against hers so she has better support with her back pressed against the door. With each thrust, her back rubs against the wall in a slight discomfort, but the pleasure he is giving her makes it worth it. “You are doing so good. Look how well you are taking me,” he breathly praises him. 

“What can I say? You’re pretty good at stretching me out,” she teases, wrapping her arms around his neck. He gives her a dark look, “I must not be doing a good enough job if it’s only pretty good. I have to kick it up a notch then.” As promised, his pace quickens and gets rougher as her moans increase in volume. He feels like he is in heaven and he knows he is going to come soon. His hand goes down between them, rubbing her clit to help her get close with him. His thrusts mixed with his rubbing fingers help bring her to her orgasm. “Keep going, I’m almost there. You feel amazing,” she admires as she feels herself clench around him. His orgasm washes over him too and he lets out a loud moan with his head thrown to her neck as his thrusts begin to slow down. He rides out both of their highs before pulling out of her with a peck to the lips. 

She slouches against the wall a little tired from their activities and he brings her other leg up to his waist so he can carry her to the bathroom. Her legs tighten around him; her head buries into his neck. He feels the faint brush of her lips against the skin of his neck. He places her on the toilet, turning away so she can go in privacy. With her bladder now empty, he returns to her with a damp towel to help clean off her sticky cum. The condom he is wearing comes off and is discarded in the garbage. Her legs wobble a little as she tries to make her way to the sink. Rafe lets out a small chuckle at her Bambi-like walking and helps her to the sink so she can wash her hands.

After they finish getting ready for bed in the bathroom, he carries her back to his room and gently lays her down. He gets in on his side of the bed, bringing her head against his chest. She thinks of saying something to break the silence, but sleep finds her before she can. 

——

It has been a month since that fateful night with Rafe. She left the next morning without waiting for him to wake up. Yes, they had an amazing night, but she didn’t think he was the relationship type so she wasn’t going to put him through the awkwardness of asking her to leave. Ever since that night, she’s been experiencing sore breasts, nausea, and mood swings; however, she just attributed those symptoms to her period coming soon. The trigger that brings her to where she is now is her missed period. Her period turned regular when she was sixteen so she shouldn’t skip a month. She stares at the wall of tests in front of her, trying to figure out the best one. She feels like everyone in the store is staring at her and just decides on whichever one she can grab first. 

The drive home is filled with anxious silence as she looks over at the bag on her passenger seat at every red light. She gets home and follows the instructions on the box. Waiting for five minutes has never felt this long before. Y/N paces the bathroom with the fingernail of her thumb in her mouth and runs towards the pregnancy test when the timer goes off. She looks in the little window on the test. Her panic seeps through her as she sees the words ‘pregnant’. Her first thought is to find Rafe and tell him, but then she remembers all the stories she’s heard about him after they slept together.

He does drugs. He has anger issues and hurts people. It is all completely different from the person she spent the night with, yet everyone has said the same thing. And that is not the type of father she wants for her baby. She doesn’t know if she is going to keep the baby, but she knows that whatever she decides, Rafe cannot be involved.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𖥔

summary ; rafe begins to push you away when he realises the true nature of his feelings towards you

pairing ; rafe cameron x kook turned pogue!fem!reader

notes ; this series will contain mature themes, such as : p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), swearing, physical altercations, potential nightmares and anxiety, arguments, drinking and drugs. if i forgot any please let me know.

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

summer nights in the outer banks always felt like a mist of nostalgia washing over you as you ventured to the boneyard. the humidity was high, and the stars were bright. speckling across the night sky like a blanket of magic, each holding a promise to return the next day like they had every other.

tonight’s party had passed by in a flurry, whisking you away with your friends for a night of unconventional fun. just the way you liked it.

the boys were up to mischief, as per usual, as they took part in numerous bets and dares to see who was the ‘best pogue’ while sarah dragged you and kie to the bonfire for a dance. and despite the fact that you had spent most of the night in high spirits, you couldn’t help the sudden plunge of morale as you watched john b sneak up behind sarah and wrap his arms around her.

the two of them holding each other close and swaying to the music as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. it made your heart heavy knowing how badly you both craved and desired the love that they so openly shared with the world.

“hey, i have a question..." jj declares after the six of you had found somewhere quiet to hunker down away from the general vicinity of the party, and with a joint in his hand, he moves to lay his head in your lap as he gazes up at the night sky.

“what now?” kie rolls her eyes, waiting to hear what high-induced thoughts the blond had conjured up

“if oranges are called… oranges, why aren't lemons called… yellows?" silence fell over you all as you tried to hold back your laughter,swapping confused looks, only to eventually give in.

“okay. i think you've had enough of that for tonight,” pope grabs the joint from jj’s hand, despite his protests, and takes a puff for himself before passing it to john b.

“agreed. i think i’m getting a contact high just from being near you,” you laugh softly.

he lets out a small gasp, clutching at his chest as though he were wounded, “you should be grateful.”

“yeah, okay, j,” you shake your head, laughing, and ruffle his hair before turning to the others to ask, “hey, does anyone have the time?”

pope’s the first to check his watch, “almost midnight.”

“shit…” you groan quietly and throw your head to the side, sinking into sarah’s shoulder for a moment, “i’ve gotta go. are we still meeting before the dinner tomorrow?”

“yeah, of course.” sarah nods, knowing that the question was intended for her and kie.

picking yourself up and dusting the sand off your shorts, you swing your bag over your shoulder and wave goodbye to your friends. they blow you kisses as you start to walk away, shouting out a jumbled mess of their own goodbyes, but nothing was more distinct than jj's "see ya tomorrow, bubba!"

making your way through the remainder of the party, a group of kooks pass you by, each of them narrowing their eyes and one even blatantly whispering about you. your family’s history wasn’t uncommon knowledge on the island, and so, unlike the pogues, a lot of the kooks didn’t want to be seen hanging out with a ‘half-breed’, as they would sometimes call you.

like kie, your parents came from two different worlds, but unfortunately for them, they didn’t have quite the happy ending that the carrera’s did. so now you live with your mom and her new husband with all the other figure eight trust fund babies, but you weren’t really one of them — you never would be.

“y/n!” a voice calls your name, and you turn just in time to see topper wrap his arm around your shoulders. the strong scent of alcohol consuming your senses, and you sway off-balance from the impact of his weight.

“hey, top,” you pat his chest affably.

“hey, we’re friends, right?” he smiles drunkenly this time, and a slight hum leaves his lips.

you knew the question was of good nature, and you didn’t dislike topper, but he wasn’t exactly your favourite person either. so, not wanting to hurt his feelings while he clearly wasn’t all there, you decide to indulge him a little, “of course we are, buddy.”

“it’s just… i know you hang out with the pogues, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends? i’ve always been nice to you, and i know kelce thinks you’re cool, but rafe, he’s a tough one. he really hates pogues, and you’re like choosing to be-”

“topper, let’s go, man!” kelce shouts as he makes his way over to you, and a few steps behind him staggered along rafe cameron, “some of us are going back to mine.”

seemingly frustrated, kelce tries to get his friend to leave while rafe appears far more interested in the cup between his lips. when he does eventually look up at topper, his eyes fall on you under his friend’s arm for a moment before he runs a hand across his forehead and looks away as though he hadn’t paid you any attention at all.

“maybe you should get him a leash?” the suggestion falls from your lips, and from behind the cup in his hand, you swore you saw rafe smirk. though, it’s gone faster than it had appeared.

kelce lets out a soft chuckle, “don’t tempt me.”

“hey, y/n, why don’t you come with us?” topper turns to you with more enthusiasm than you could handle on a good day. like a golden retriever that was just given his favourite ball.

“as tempting as that sounds... i will have to pass.” removing his arm, you push him towards kelce, who reluctantly catches him.

“why not? it’ll be fun, and kelce and rafe will be there!”

“actually, i’ve, uh, i’ve got somewhere to be,” rafe discloses, taking the last sip of his drink before throwing the empty cup into the trash pile and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “so, i’m going to have to skip on tonight too.”

not wanting to stick around for the conversation about to be had, which would mostly consist of topper whining for rafe to go with them, you take your leave from the trio, “alright. well, i’m going to go. you boys have fun.” and as you pass through them, your arm accidentally brushes against rafe.

you don't think much of it, but the small graze seemed to have attracted his attention, because when you look back, his eyes are already watching you walk away.

the air was no longer sticky as you walked towards the main road. the temperature had dropped enough to cause an array of bumps on your arms and you cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket. the coolness nipped at your skin, and you helplessly wrapped your arms around yourself to gather as much warmth as possible.

the street was quiet, other than the distant sound of music from the boneyard and the occasional bark from a neighbourhood dog. the sky was dark with nothing but the stars helping guide you home, which only made it more noticeable when a set of headlights turned into the street. the sound of an engine began to approach you, slowing to meet your side before eventually coming to a stop.

“y'know, it’s at least an hour walk back to figure eight, right?” the driver points out, and an undeniable smirk tugs at the corner of your lips before you turn to see rafe leaning his head out the open window.

“really?” you retort, cocking your head to the side. “... what took you so long then?”

rafe licks his lips to try and downplay the smile on his face as you near the car, his eyes trailing up and down your body, "well, you know how it is?"

"topper wouldn't shut up," you say in unison, scrunching up your face as you nod.

"i guess that means i'll just have to make it up to you," he looks you up and down once more, his eyes lingering on the skin surrounding your chest and noting how the smallest cherubs of your nipples were poking through your bikini top.

smiling coyly, you sink towards him, pushing a hand to run across the stubbled hair on his head, and press a chaste kiss to his lips, "you better." your words muffle against him.

he hums with approval, a smug look on his face as you pull his bottom lip between yours, giving it a small tug, "you better hurry up and get in then."

you scrunch your nose at him before running around the other side of the car, and it doesn't take long at all for the two of you to reunite with the comforts of rafe's bedroom. the familiar scent of his vanilla lotion, cologne, and a hint of tobacco filling your senses the second he opens the door, and what was once a relevantly clean floor was now being littered with discarded clothing.

his fingers were gentle as they danced across your skin, loosening the knot in the back of your bikini with ease, before hoisting you up around his waist and leading you to his bed where he places you down atop his cotton sheets. his fingers make haste to remove the last pieces of your clothing as he peppers sweet kisses along your jawline, down to your neck.

rafe's kisses were reverent, his touch worshipping, as he slowly revealed every last piece of you. like a precious gift being unwrapped for all to see, but only rafe got the pleasure of doing so.

his breath is hot as he traipses his kisses further down your chest, and his lips soft as he presses them perfectly around the nubs of your breasts. flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin and erupting a whirlwind of rampant butterflies in your stomach.

"god, look at you," he mumbles, a hand now rolling down your waist, your thigh, stopping just shy of where you needed him the most. you needed to feel him, needed him to touch you, and he knew it. he could tell by the way your hips were ever so slightly bucking up to try and reach his hand. "so needy, baby."

smirking, he slowly glides his fingers over your clit and then begins working small torturous circles over it. your chest starts to rise and fall, the breathe being pulled from your lungs, and rafe pushes the side of his other hand into your mouth to help muffle your moans.

it's then that he presses two fingers inside you, letting his thumb continue to work you as he slowly pumps them in and out. your hips jut up, the pleasure working it's way through you until you couldn't bare it much longer. then it stops.

"rafe..." you whine, panting.

"what? you really think i'm going to waste the chance to have you cum around me?" he meets your face, bringing his fingers to his lips and licking your juices off of them, "not when you taste this sweet."

then, without warning, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his lap. letting nothing else stand between you both, he takes your mouth in a heated kiss. his tongue teasing you skilfully until you're left breathless. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and it only made you want him more.

with one hand gripping at your thigh, he uses the other to give himself a few pumps before swiping along your slit to gather your wetness. you jolt as the tip of his cock touches your clit, which he can't help but snicker at, and he slowly starts to push himself in.

rafe was big, there was no denying that, and you would have to bury your head in his shoulder from time to time to stop yourself from crying out as you sink down on him. you could feel him everywhere, and while you didn't have anything to compare it to, you had never felt so full in your life than when rafe was inside you.

it takes a moment to adjust but once he starts moving, all the pressure that had built up quickly turns into pleasure. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him as close to you as you possibly could, your chests moving together as one as he maintains his rhythm. you try to kiss him, but he feels too good inside that all you can do is let out breathy moans.

his thumb moves down to work your clit once more, adding to the pleasure tightening and compressing within your stomach. waves of ecstasy taking over your body as you succumb to your high while rafe tries his best not to cum in you.

you press your head against him as your orgasm rolls through your body, your walls clenching around him and daring to push him over the edge, "fuck, i love watching you cum."

you notice the way his pupils had dilated as he stares up at you now, and you press your lips to his as you slowly lift yourself off of him, immediately feeling empty inside.

"told you i'd make it up to you," he stretches his neck as he leans back to rest on his elbows, closing his eyes long enough for you to work your way down to his waist and take him in your mouth.

he was still so hard, and creamy from being inside you, that the second your lips came in contact, his head lulled back with a sigh. he was already so close to the edge that it didn't take long for him to blow his load in your mouth. and you didn’t waste a drop.

after recollecting yourself, rafe throws you one of his t-shirts to put on and you make yourself comfortable against the headboard of his bed. he, however, instinctively moves to rest his head in your lap, and your fingers idly run circles on his head.

whenever you were with rafe, it felt like all of your problems simply washed away. he made you feel things you never had before. he made you feel alive. and while you loved spending as much time with him as possible, there was always a bittersweet feeling gnawing at you, reminding you that none of this was real, because your time together always had to come to an end.

it was always easier to just rip off the band aid rather than to let it fester until it consumed your every thought.

"you okay?" rafe asks, taking notice of how quiet and spacey you were being. you nod, not wanting to turn this into anything. "you can tell me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand this time.

it was the small gestures like that that made it all the more difficult to keep sneaking around with him. you knew you could never tell him how you were really feeling but the longer you had to lie to your friends or hide away like he was ashamed to be seen with you, the more you wondered if this was how things would always be with him.

he had told you from the start that he had too much going on to be able to commit to anything or make promises he knew he couldn't keep, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. and no matter how many times he tried to reassure you that this wasn't just sex for him, he would always follow up with the fact that he couldn't let himself get carried away. not when ward was watching his every move.

“it’s fine, really,” leaning down, you press another kiss to his lips and then to his nose, “i promise.”

reluctant to believe you, he eventually nods before moving into your touch and nuzzling his face into yours as he kisses you once more. his hands move to guide you as your breath becomes ragged, and just as you’re about to get lost in him once more, you pull away, knowing that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.

between breaths, you whisper, “it’s late. i should get going.”

rafe throws his head back into his pillow, heaving a sigh, and where you expected him to agree or even help you gather your clothes from where you had left them all over his floor, he instead stops you. his eyes flutter for a second, and his jaw tenses the way it did whenever he was fighting the thoughts in his head, trying to flush them out, and with a soft voice, he says, “… stay.”

an inaudible gasp leaves you as you contemplate whether or not you had heard him correctly and when you don’t answer, he pulls you back to the bed, "stay... please."

rafe had never asked you to stay before or vis versa, the night always ended with one of you sneaking home, and while you were ecstatic over the revelations, you were also sceptical as to what had changed his mind all of a sudden. he doesn't say anything else, just pulls you back between the sheets and wraps his arm firmly around your waist.

you hadn't given him an answer, but you knew you weren't going to say 'no', who knew if he would ever ask you to stay again. instead, you let yourself melt into his warmth where you remained until the sun began to rise.

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Wife With Migraines Headcanons

masterlist

pairing: rafe cameron x female reader

warnings: migraines, fluff, kisses, cuddling

summary: headcanons on how rafes deals with his wife's migraines - requested by anon

a/n: hi love! thanks for the request and i'm so sorry this took so long, enjoyyyy

song: i think we're alone now - tiffany

♡ migraines were common for you, unfortunately, but rafe doesn't mind at all

♡ sometimes when they get so bad you can't get out of bed, he will cancel everything just to stay and cuddle with you

♡ he goes with you to doctor appointments for them and makes sure they are doing everything they can

♡ he will also go out and buy anything he knows that you love, that goes from foods to even jewlery

♡ he knows how sometimes it makes you dizzy and he strokes your hair as you squint your eyes shut trying to stop the world from spinning

♡ he always has water for you, sometimes he adds lemon if you are in the mood for it

♡ rafe enjoys giving you massages while you lay in the bed as you relax

♡ he read from somewhere that slowly drinking a caffeinated drink helps, so he buys you your favorite coffee

♡ he is always peppering your face with kisses that make you giggle to lighten your mood

♡ if you tell him that it isn't too bad and he can put the tv on, he will happily bingewatch your favorite movies with you (harry potter, disney movies, star wars, hunger games, etc...)

♡ he had topper buy a heating bad and bring it over the last time you had a migraine, you thanked rafe and apologized to topper but he just smiled at you and said it was no problem

♡ sometimes rafe knows that you want someone to talk to things about to distract yourself from the pain, so he will call his sister (your best friend) and she will come over to lay in bed with you as you gossip together

♡ he will make you breakfast in bed and will cook all of your favorite meals, he's the husband who makes pancakes with a smiley face made from whipped cream and cuts strawberries in the shape of hearts

♡ he will prepare a warm bath with essential oils that sarah bough you, he will also add a bath bomb once and awhile

♡ he loves when you lay your head on his lap in bed and so that he can practice braiding your hair

♡ lastly he says the worst jokes and cheesy pick-up lines just so that he can see you smile (it melts his heart)

[instructionsnotincluded]

Story Links:

Outer Banks:

Audrey's Version:

Snow on the Beach (JJ Maybank x OC)

Part One | Complete | Over 250,000 Words | 18+

Summary:

Eighteen year old Audrey Routledge had everything going for her...until she didn't. With her dad lost at sea, suddenly the weight of the world is on Audrey's shoulders as she battles keeping her brother out of the system and the police out of her house--all while trying to hold down a full time job. As the bills pile up and hard decisions need to be made, Audrey's not sure life could get any harder. Enter Hurricane Agatha. With the hurricane comes clean ups, sleepless nights, stolen kisses, and a deadly treasure hunt they might not come back from.

State of Grace:

Part Two | Complete | Over 228,000 Words | 18+

Summary:

Just when she thought life couldn't get any harder, it does. It's been a month since her younger brother was declared lost at sea, and Audrey Routledge is not ok. Haunted by nightmares and dark thoughts, Audrey is stumbling through each day as she attempts to pick up the pieces of her broken life. Until she receives a phone call one random afternoon. With it come tears of hope, worried frustrations, passionate kisses, and the continuation of a treasure hunt they might not make it back from.

Into the Mist

Part Three | Work in Progress | 18+

Summary:

The last few months have been the hardest for eighteen year old Audrey Routledge, so when life presents her with a mountain of lemons after jumping from a container ship, Audrey is eager to make lemonade with her friends and family. However, their short lived paradise quickly becomes a nightmare as they encounter new characters, old faces, more mystery, and darker secrets that will shake the foundation of the life she’s created, bringing them closer and closer to their treasure hunt’s epic conclusion.

Deleted Scenes:

JJ and Audrey want to start a family

Logan's Version:

Wild Winds (Rafe Cameron x OC)

Part One | Work in Progress | 18+

Summary:

Wise men once said: "Wild winds are death to the candle.” A rose by any other name is a scandal.

Life on Kildare Island is harsh when you’re born into an abusive family on the Cut, and Logan Maybank has always seemed to get the short end of the stick in both life and love. She works tirelessly to keep her brother and herself alive, trying to fly under the radar of both the Kooks and the police in order to keep her job and remain afloat.

Until Rafe Cameron and his stupid blue eyes ruined all that; sending them both spiraling down the rabbit hole of love, loss, secrecy, and greed, with only each other to hold on to.

And she thought Hurricane Agatha was going to be the worst thing to happen this summer.

Read Requested Story Snippets Here

Misc:

JJ Maybank x Original Character Sneak Peek (Not Audrey's Version)

Masters of the Air:

True North:

Work in Progress | 18+

Summary:

Struggling to defy expectations during the height of WWII, Captain Stella Frank is determined to prove her worth as an Air Transport Auxiliary Pilot in the male-dominated world of aviation. As she navigates the skies with skill and determination, she encounters a diverse array of characters, each with their own struggles and triumphs. Among them is John "Bucky" Egan, whose charm, bravery, and dedication to his fellow pilots catch Frank's attention amidst the chaos of war. Can they navigate not only the treacherous skies but also the complexities of love and loyalty in a time of uncertainty and sacrifice? Or are they doomed to go down in flames like the world around them?

Delete Scenes:

Bucky’s letter to his mother

Frances' letter to her mother

[blue-cordial]

UNEXPECTED VOWS PART 8 - RAFE CAMERON X READER (18+)

SMUT CHAPTER - I have never written anything like this before, I would appreciate constructive criticism.

______________________________________________________________

"breathing heavy as he thrust into you, 'rafe'...'Rafe'...'RAFE!' Y/n cannot compose herself, the knot building in her stomach, 'Shh baby, they will hear us,' Rafe said as he continued his tortured pace. Y/N gripped onto him for dear life, wrapping her legs around him as he inhaled her lips. She let out a moan and he captured it moving up to kiss her forehead while her teeth scrapped down his neck. They both reached their release at the same time, covered in sweat and panting. Rafe moved off her and fell on his back, staring at the ceiling. 'That was...' Rafe began. 'Unexpected,' Y/N said shyly, smiling away…

An hour earlier…

Y/N and Rafe were lounging in the study reading on their family history and company obligations, the housekeeper had just left to fetch some coffee and lemon cake. Y/N wanted to reach for a book on the higher placed shelf, as she grabbed what she was looking for, sh moved moved back against the shelf while perusing over the cover of the book, her back hit the shelf at too hard a speed causing a loose book from the top shelf to fall, Rafe heard the sound and jolted towards Y/N capturing just in time, he then shadowed over her in place with her back against the shelf. 'Thank you,' Y/n said looking at him in shock. Breathing rapidly.

'Don't mention it,' he said while he continued his unwavering gaze at her forehead. The book in her hand seemed to have nicked her eyebrow when she held up her hand to stop the impact. Rafe then looked at her and said, 'Does it hurt?' as he took his finger to wipe off the blood. Y/n flinched but he continued looking in her eyes as he put the same finger in his mouth, tasting her blood."

Theif breathing intensified, staring into each others eyes, Rafe then realised his proximity and the force had pushed her back onto the shelf, lifting her legs of the floor a little, his body was pressed solitudely against hers, with no room to breathe, he looked between them realising he was starting to get hard. When he looked up, his eyes met Y/Ns with her lips parted, they continued to stare and Rafe was shocked when he felt her legs wrap around him. His hands immediately went down to capture her thighs under the thick material of her dress. His hands moved higher, to her butt when he pulled her forward and squeezed, all whilst keeping their eyes locked. ‘Waait! Rafe, What if she comes back in?’ Y/N nervously questioned.

‘Then we give her the show of her life’, rafe smirked as he captured her lips in a fevering breath. They made way with their clothing, rafe ripping the top of Y/Ns dress down, exposing her chest, he moved his head down nipping at the soft skin, while Y/N rolled her eyes back and she grabbed onto his hair, pulling him up towards her lips as he continued histortured pace. Y/N reached down to his trousers and started unbuckling his belt as Rafe reached down to assist her, he bent down and pulled her underwear down in one go. ‘ is this okay?’ Rafe asked as he leaned down looking up at Y/N licking his lips, no words were spoken but she knew exactly what he had asked.

‘pp Pplea see’ she stuttered whilst biting her lips staring down. With no further confirmation, Rafe dived in under her dress, he did not touch her at first, and he was building her tension as she could feel his breathe on her exposed centre. ‘Raa raafee’ she panted becoming uneasy, she could hear him giggle and before she could say anything further she felt him suck her, euphoria hit, her head hit the shelf behind her as her eyes rolled, complete ecstasy washed over her, she screamed when she felt his tongue wrap at her folds, sticking into her, Rafe continued his pace, Y/N had reached down, moving her dress aside to grab his hair, she continued to ride out the pleasure, she felt her heart explode as Rafe stuck his finger inside and scrapped along her tight walls, she was hanging on a thread, ‘ple.. please Rafe, I need you inside me’. Rafe groaned, he did not wait a second longer, he stood up, ‘I need to be inside you when you come, need you to feel my cum as you milk me’ rafe panted out in breaths he could muster as he removed his boxers, he stroked himself a few times while Y/N stared in utter bliss, he then pulled her to the edge of the shelf as he thrust up into her…(and the story continued)

[fallbhind]

O3. ︎ ︎ ꒱⠀DREW STARKEY

OO. drew starkey ★ actor ⎯⎯ more 2 come

O1. rafe cameron ★ character ⎯⎯ sweet ‘n sour lemons, casual, three day vacation.

O2. zach maclaren ★ character ⎯⎯ more 2 come

[gh0stsp1d3r]

characters/people that i write for:

OBX- Rafe Cameron | JJ maybank | Pope Heyward |John B Routledge

ACTORS- Drew starkey

NHL- Jack Hughes | Luke Hughes | Quinn Hughes | Will Smith | Mitch Marner

PJO- Luke castellan

HOTD- Jacaerys Velaryon | aegon targaryen | Aemond Targaryen

WONKA- timothee’s wonka

BOSAS- Coriolanus snow | sejanus plinth

ULTRAMAN RISING- Kenji Sato

SPIDER MAN INTO THE SPIDER VERSE- Miguel O’Hara | Hobie Brown | Ben Reilly | Spider Noir | Pavitr Prabhakar

STAR WARS- Din Djarin | Kylo Ren | Anakin skywalker

MARVEL- Kraven the hunter | spider men

SCREAM- Ethan Landry | Stu macher | Billy Loomis | Charlie Walker

BULLET TRAIN- Tangerine | Lemon | Ladybug

FNAF- William Afton | Mike Schmidt

THE BEAR- Carmen “Carmy” berzatto

THE SANDMAN- Morpheus

SENSELESS- Tim Laflour

SLC PUNK- Stevo Levy

BATMAN- Jonathan crane

ANNA KARENINA- count vronsky

PEAKY BLINDERS- Thomas Shelby

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘; 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛, 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞!

༺୨♡︎୧༺ hi babys! thought i would update my profile… again, since i can’t handle not changing something about myself and i can’t dye my hair or it will literally all fall out, this will have to do.

things i like: long showers, lemon fanta, eyelash extensions, the colour pink, steak, thunderstorms, lip liner, bleach blonde hair, oreo milkshakes, vanilla perfume, jalapeños, hickeys, roses, vinyls, silver jewellery, flares, greece, 90s porn staches.

favourite characters: lloyd hansen, tyler durden, michael schofield, rafe cameron, negan smith, officer KD, bojack.

music taste: drake, kanye west, yeat, frank ocean, a$ap rocky, j. cole, 50 cent, dave, kendrick lamar, 2 pac, khalid, 21 savage, brent faiyaz, tyler the creator, childish gambino, ice cube.

here is my one and only warning, if your block is blank, i will block you. not only do i have no understanding of what age you are but it also proves to me that you show zero support for writers by reblogging their content. Thankyou.