#rafe cameron x pogue!bartender!reader

[itneverendshere]

all you've got to do is want something and then let yourself have it - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

this is a combination of a few requests: "hella see jj instantly jumping into uncle jay mode when autumn comes (...)  + "she's just so small against rafe and it's halloween where jj and monica and milo come stop by, and she's just so srunchy in her halloween onesie" + "the thought of baby cameron's first holiday being halloween! + thinking of jj having the most random nicknames for autumn that even rafes like what did u just call my daughter (...).

it was halloween—rafe’s first as a dad—and his baby girl, autumn, was just about a month old. his chest swelled with pride every time he looked at her—her little hands, those big blue eyes that still seemed so new to the world.

he'd never understood how people could fall in love so quickly with something so small. but now, looking down at her cute face, he couldn’t help but be consumed by it.

tonight wasn’t just another halloween—it was autumn's first.

rafe was determined to make it special. he'd even set up a few decorations in the living room, hoping to at least start the tradition early. not that she could enjoy it yet, but someday she would.

he heard the familiar chime of a text, swiping open his phone, he grinned at the picture you’d sent to the group chat. there was his baby girl, strapped in her car seat, snug as a bug, with her tiny fists curled up against the pumpkin onesie she was drowning in.

found her a decent costume, guess who’s about to come home! read your message.

he couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he replied, i bet she’s ready to see her daddy.

another message popped up from jj, his voice coming through as if he were already in full-on uncle jay mode. he hadn’t even seen the baby for more than a couple minutes, but he was all about claiming his spot in the family.

aw, my sweet little chipmunk must be so excited to see me!

“chipmunk?” rafe mumbled to himself, brows pulling together as he shook his head. that idiot had a nickname for autumn every week since she was born, and every week, they seemed to get more random.

he could picture it now—jj walking in and immediately stealing the kid from his arms, calling her some out-of-nowhere name.

just as he pocketed his phone, he heard the front door swing open.

there you were, his pretty wife with that tired-but-radiant look in your eyes that made him weak in the knees every time, and there was his little girl, her chubby cheeks smushed against the car seat strap, already half-asleep.

“hey, troublemaker,” he whispered to his daughter as he scooped her up, her onesie crinkling as she wiggled and blinked up at him.

rafe had never felt so big as he did when holding her; her whole body fit in his arms like she was meant to be there. the doorbell interrupted their little moment, and rafe smiled to himself.

right on time.

he opened the door to see jj, monica, and milo—the familiar, chaotic crew.

jj was already leaning in for autumn, hands outstretched like she was his to claim. he rushed over, grinning like a kid who’d just won the jackpot. “ohhh, chipmunk’s home!”

“alright, alright, hold on,” rafe grumbled, stepping back. he shook his head, giving jj a warning glance. “dude, she’s barely awake. can you let her at least stay asleep for five minutes?”

“eh, five minutes is all she needs,” jj smirked, taking her from rafe’s arms with ease. “monica always says she’s got my personality—just sleeps through everything.”

monica rolled her eyes. “i never said that. don’t put words in my mouth.”

“come on, rafey, princess fussy butt just needs her uncle.” he shot rafe a wink, then immediately started babbling nonsense to the baby, who blinked at him with that open-mouth stare, like she was trying to understand why everyone thought this dude was so funny.

"what did you just call my daughter?" rafe raised a brow. “princess fussy butt? really, dude?”

maybank just laughed. “better than ‘chipmunk'.”

milo, meanwhile, was tugging at your sleeve, showing you the skeleton costume he’d been wearing all day, rattling off about the latest candy haul he was plotting.

monica glanced over, shaking her head. “if you start with that nickname, she’s going to think it’s her real name by the time she’s two.”

“good,” jj smirked. “she’ll be ready to take on the world by then.”

rafe chuckled, glancing back at his baby, her scrunchy little self bundled in her onesie, eyes already half-shut.

“look at her,” he nodded towards jj, while you rested your head against his bicep.

“it’s her first holiday,” you murmured.

“yeah, and she’s got maniac jj, aunt monica, and the skeleton over there to keep it interesting,” he joked, watching milo comparing candy bars with jj in what looked like a serious negotiation.

he was still cradling autumn, making faces at her and talking to her in a voice that was a little too high-pitched for anyone but a baby. rafe watched from the couch now, his arms wrapped around you as you sat beside him, both of you listening to the holiday mess around you.

“hey, i swear, if she calls him ‘uncle jay’ before she can even say ‘mama’ or ‘dada,’ i’m gonna fucking' lose it,” rafe muttered under his breath to you, nudging your side.

you chuckled, lifting your gaze to meet his. “as long as she doesn’t call him ‘princess fussy butt,’ i think we’re good.”

first holidays were a big deal, but it was more than that.

this halloween was his first as a dad, and it felt like his whole life had changed in the best possible way. you two were building memories now, the kind that would last for years, traditions that he could carry with him and pass down.

milo, now done with his fifth round of candy negotiations with jj, walked over to you two, shaking his head in frustration as he planted himself right beside the couch.

“seriously, you gotta get him to shut up,” he complained, eyeing the blonde as he bounced autumn in his arms, making strange sounds in an attempt to get her to smile, and failing miserably.

rafe snickered, his arm still around you as he pulled you in closer. “what did i tell you, kid? maybank's gotta be himself. we can’t tame him.”

milo raised an eyebrow, then glanced at you, trying to change the subject. “so, can we continue the candy haul now, or…?”

you grinned, happy to let him off the hook. “you’ve been thinking about candy for the last hour, haven’t you?”

milo nodded vigorously. “well, yeah, but only because jay’s been ignoring me. i’m on a mission. i need your professional opinion on my stash.”

you shot a glance at rafe, who was trying to hide his amusement. “looks like milo’s ready to be your candy mentor,” you teased.

he shrugged. “i don’t know, man. i might’ve been planning to steal some of his stash later.” he winked at milo, who, despite being ten, was wise enough to know when they were messing around.

“i need your help to make sure i got the best stuff this year. it’s a whole strategic thing, okay?” he leaned in close, as if he were about to reveal some secret mission. “the candy’s gotta be in prime condition.”

you raised an eyebrow. “so, you’ve got it all laid out?”

“oh, you bet,” milo said, reaching for the plastic pumpkin bucket beside him. he held it up with a dramatic flourish, as if he were presenting treasure. “operation candy haul is a success.”

rafe nodded, “what do you need from us?”

milo went into full-on candy expert mode. “okay, here’s the rundown. first, we’ve got your classics—snickers, m&ms, twix. but then there’s the premium section—reese’s, kit-kats, and my personal favorite, the milky ways.” he paused, looking at you seriously. “you have got to help me sort this. we need an unbiased opinion.”

you tried not to chuckle at his intensity. “you’re taking this a little seriously for someone who’s only ten.”

“well, i’m not ten anymore,” he said matter-of-factly. “i’m, like, ten and a half now. that’s practically a teenager.”

“i’ll give you that,” rafe said with a grin, as you smothered a laugh. “so what’s next on your list, teenager milo?”

“for the final test, you’ve gotta rank the ones that have the most chocolate-to-nougat ratio. i’ll leave that to you.” milo said, clearly trusting rafe’s opinion on these serious matters.

“you’ve got it,” rafe replied, pretending to think deeply. “the most chocolate-to-nougat ratio… now that’s a crucial step. can’t mess with the classics, kid.”

“exactly!” milo nodded, looking up at you. “we need to do a double-check of his candy haul. make sure the ratios are balanced.”

you pretended to ponder it, peeking at the candy bucket with exaggerated seriousness. “okay, you’ve convinced me. i’m in.”

you turned to rafe, who was already pulling a few pieces of candy from the pile, ready to play along. jj, still holding autumn, caught wind of what was happening and walked over with a dramatic sigh.

“what’s going on here? i hear talk of candy, and i need in.”

“too late,” milo said, grinning at him like he’d won a major victory. “i’m running this operation now.”

jj, not one to be outdone, threw a playful scowl at him. “when did you start talking back?”

as you and rafe dove into the candy sorting, a tiny whimper broke the festive ambience. everyone paused, glancing over to where jj was still cradling autumn and her face had gone from sleepy to fussy in seconds, her lips wobbling as her eyes squeezed shut.

“oh no, no, no...” jj muttered, bouncing her a little too enthusiastically, trying to avoid the inevitable meltdown. “come on, chipmunk, we’re just getting started here—don’t bail on me now.”

her hands clenched, and then came the wail—a high-pitched, all-out baby cry that instantly turned heads, her tiny face was scrunched, cheeks red, and her lungs proving just how powerful they were for someone so small.

“oh, jj,” you sighed, moving to take her, but rafe was already up, a smile spreading across his face as he reached for her.

“alright, alright, time’s up,” rafe said, easing her from jj’s arms. he held her close, gently rocking her, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her tiny back. “hey, sweet girl,” he murmured softly, his voice dropping into that warm, gentle tone reserved just for her. “shh, it’s okay.”

as if by magic, her cries began to ease, her little body relaxing against rafe as she blinked up at him, still sniffling but calming with each second. she reached a tiny hand up, clutching onto his sweater.

jj put his hands on his hips, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “see that? kid won’t cry for anyone else. i think i’m losing my charm.”

rafe smirked, not looking up from his daughter, “told you, maybank. you gotta have the touch.”

you leaned into him as he sat back down, resting your chin on his shoulder as you watched her settle, her wide eyes blinking up at you both, taking in the world from the safe haven of her dad’s arms.

the blonde grinned, putting a hand on his heart in mock sadness. “well, fine then. guess she’s got her favorites.”

monica elbowed him, rolling her eyes, “they made her, you idiot.”

“ew.” he gave you and rafe a teasing side-eye, earning a good-natured smack from your sister.

autumn, oblivious to all the drama, had already snuggled back into her dad’s chest, letting out a sleepy sigh. rafe’s face softened as he looked down at her, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back.

halloween had never felt more complete, and as you looked at your husband holding your daughter, you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

[congratsloserr]

someone kick me in my stomach NO WAY THIS IS REAL LIFE IN MY FACEEE

i’m soooooooo bro i’m soooo thankful you have posted another part, i’ve gone back multiple times just wishing for a update😭

this was absolutely amazing and worth the wait, I can’t wait for another part

PLAY FAKE | 15

MASTERLIST (Series)

Pairing — Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ

Summary — When Rafe needs to secure a girlfriend for his father to see him as a viable candidate for Cameron Development, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

Content — 18+, smut, angst, depictions of jealousy + aggression, emotional turmoil, mild descriptions of violence, and usage of drugs.

Rafe always struggled with noise.

It was always too much or too little. But silence at Tannyhill was something he had grown accustomed to: the steady hum of the air conditioner wavering between seasons, the chirps of cicadas outside his balcony, and the soft waves crashing on his beachfront estate. These noises are familiar to him, setting his routine for the day.

Not Sarah.

It's unfair to say Sarah is an anomaly. He grown up with her his entire life, and her being in the house wasn't an uncommon sound. However, after she ditched the family to go slumming it with the Pogues, there was a lightness in the air from her absence. With Wheezie being off at academy, Rose and Ward often traveling for work, Rafe gotten used to being alone.

Now, the droning silence is met with a muffled pop music blasting from Sarah's bedroom. Given that her room sits adjacent to his, it forces Rafe to hear every screeching lyric, every grating beat, and every obnoxious sound, reminding him of his sister's existence.

Solitude is something he wishes he could return to.

"Can you turn it down over there?" Rafe pounds on the shared wall, but the volume doesn't lower. In fact, if he's imagining it or the anger bubbling beneath the surface is giving him more clarifying senses, it gets louder. With gritted teeth, Rafe shakes off the nuisance and returns to his task.

Her presence agitated him. It's one thing for her to come home and disrupt his routine, it's another when her return jeopardize his future. As much as he likes to pretend it doesn't—and not think about it—he knows it does.

For the longest time, they fought for their father's affection, especially after their mother left. Sarah had always received it, and Rafe had to always fight to stay in the limelight. But it isn't true to say he hates her. There were times where Rafe considered himself closest to Sarah. She was the one who shared his childhood, separated by a measly three-year age gap, and she was the one who remembered their mother. They have sibling spats, but it never pushed to the level it is now.

Now, it's as if they can't seem to stand each other's existence. To Rafe, she's a reminder of all the bitter favoritism their father offered her. To Sarah, Rafe is the [reminder] of someone who can't seem to move on.

Once Rafe packed, he steps out of his bedroom—only to collide with Sarah.

"Watch it, Rafe," she snaps, holding a ceramic bowl in one hand, while collecting her wet hair in the other. Her eyes narrowed with disdain, before she turns her heel and head to the stairwell.

His jaw ticks.

Rafe hates how easy it was for her to come home. To be accepted. When Rafe was kicked out of the house, he had to beg his father to grant his return. And that was just for an addiction. Imagine how much worse it could've been had Rafe skipped off and abandoned his family for a fleeting puppy romance.

It just wasn't fair.

Finally, he snaps. "What are you doing here, Sarah?"

She halts at the top of the stairs, twisting her head at the accusation. Rafe uses this opportunity to approach her. "Why are you back home?"

Ever since she returned, he hadn't had a proper conversation with Sarah. Not that he wanted to. He's been so preoccupied with you and everything going on with Aaron, he hadn't bothered interrogating the origin of his sister's sudden homecoming. Now, it's as if he can't stop.

Sarah twists her delicate features. "Last I'd checked, this was my house too."

"It was your house," Rafe corrects. "Before you abandoned it for that little Pogue boyfriend of yours. What happened? Couldn't cut roughing it?"

She huffs, tightening her jaw and glances away. "Dad said I can move back in,"

"Dad says anything to give his little princess what she wants,"

"What's your deal, Rafe?" She demands, nostrils flaring at his abrupt attack. "Are you that mad I'm coming home?"

She made him sound unreasonable. He wasn't. "Was it home when you ran away to fuck your little boyfriend? Was it home when Dad and Rose tried to contact you, only to receive radio silence? Was it home when you left our little sister?"

"It's as if you give two shits about Wheezie,"

"Of course I give a shit about her," he growls, unable to keep the emotions from his voice, "She's my family. And frankly, she was the only family I had when you left."

At the end of the day, it wasn't just the rivalry that got to him. It was the fact that he was abandoned. It was the fact that he found satisfaction in his placement of their Kildare society, and he had his sisters with him—only for one to skip off and choose to live on the rough side of town. That being with them was easier than being with him.

All he asks is loyalty.

His chest heaves by the end of his sentence, but there's a lightness to his heart. He hadn't realize how much he needed to get that off. He needed to say his piece. Hands bundled into fists by his side, a sudden draw of blood tastes on his tongue.

Silence eclipses their argument, saved for the choking sputters of the air conditioner, before Sarah answers calmly. "John B and I broke up."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Sarah says solemnly, all lost of her previous energy, and she looks down. "Guess that makes you feel better, huh?"

"I didn't say that."

"You might as well have," Sarah declares, as if she could read his heart. "Me failing. Me losing my relationship. Everything in my life going to shit—I bet you're satisfied."

That isn't true. There's not even any resemblance of satisfaction curling in his chest, but a bleeding ache of hurt. Did Sarah really, truly, thinks so lowly of him?

It makes him defensive. "If this was the attitude you had with John B, it's no wonder he dumped you."

Sarah scoffs, "here it is."

"Am I wrong?" Rafe snaps, charged with misplaced hurt. "And now you get to come back like nothing has changed, and sneak your way into the family business as if you had any fucking right to it."

Sarah stares at him, jaw slackens, before realization dawns on her. "Is that what this is about?" She begins. "You're pissed because Dad asked me for help?"

"You never wanted it," he says lowly, but he can't seem to say the other part. That if his dad could pick between them to run his legacy, it would be her. But he is the one who wants it.

"Dad asked me," Sarah emphasizes, trying to get Rafe to understand.

"You could've said no."

"How could I?" She demands. "I have no place—I left for God's sake, and now I'm crawling back with my tail between my legs and Dad asked me to help with one case. How could I say no to that?"

It's so easy for her. Rafe took time, energy and effort to get enough approval from their father to give consultations. Sarah got it as a placement test to prove herself. She's going to ruin it, he thought bitterly, and he knows he should feel sympathy for all the shit she's been through, but all of it dissipates in the waste of his anger.

It's his birthright; he deserves it.

Rafe suddenly says. "You should go."

"Go where, Rafe?" She orders, "and for what? So you can live here with that little girlfriend of yours? It's not like you're going to last anyways."

Rafe is struck by Sarah bringing you into the conversation.

"You don't know what you're talking about,"

"She's a Pogue," Sarah emphasizes mockingly, in the same tone that Rafe used. He hates that too. "Why do you think John B and I broke up?"

"Because he couldn't stand your attitude of yours?"

Sarah scoffs, shoulders unwinding. "No, because he had other things he cared about more than me."

"She's not like that."

"You can't honestly believe that," Sarah says with a demeaning scoff, "They're all like that. It's in their blood. John B wanted something more and he put me behind. She's going to do the same to you."

He doesn't believe that. He refuses to. "Maybe you got the wrong end of the stick."

"Maybe you're blinded by love," she retorts easily, without missing a beat. "Do you honestly believe she had no ulterior motives with you? What did she even see in you in the first place?"

Rafe wanted to argue in your defense that you didn't see him as some cash cow. But he realizes he can't. Because there was an another motive for the beginning of your relationship—your bar. Albeit fake, it's all the same.

He doesn't know if it still stands.

"She's not like that," he repeats, but his voice is weaker in conviction. Sarah merely shrugs.

"Whatever you say," she says, taking a step down the stairwell. "You'll see."

—

After his fight with Sarah—which Rafe isn't even sure he won—he heads over to your bar. He knows he should be able to process his feelings without seeking an emotional clutch, but there's an unbeatable calamity that comes from being in your presence.

Upon entry, the little bell chimes, and you lift your head to greet the customer, only for a wide smile to spread across your face. He steps in to meet you halfway at the counter.

"Hi," you greet softly, reaching out to stroke his shoulder, and all tension in his muscles unwinds.

"Hey," he leans down to kiss your lips, his hand finding the small of your back. "Ready to go?"

You shake your head. "Can't. I have to stay until the last customer leaves."

Rafe glances around the bar. While mostly vacant, it hosts a couple of lingering patrons who are drinking and watching the channel on the television—no sense of urgency behind their necessary leave.

He turns back to you, "You're the boss."

"Yes, and the boss says no," you say with a playful grin.

Rafe's mind is whirling with thoughts. He just wants to have you alone, and contemplating a solution, his mouth lowers to the shell of your ear to ask, "How would you react if I kicked everyone out?"

"Mad?" You offer.

He groans. "Thought so."

You laugh, and the sweet sound grounds him. It's the same laugh as before; the melodic, light, and airy sound, filled with spirit and soul. It's the same sound he heard in your bar that day; now, in the same place, at a different time. He hadn't realized then how much he was going to love it.

"What's wrong?" You question. "Do you want to go home that bad?"

He shakes his head. "It's not that," he murmurs, his hand sliding up your low-cut work shirt, grabbing the hems to pull it down. "I just want to be alone with you."

"You always want to be alone with me,"

"I want you." He declares definitively, so full of totality that it sends a buzz of warmth straight to your heart. You grin, steeping on your tiptoes to give him another kiss.

This time, he savors it—grabbing the back of your neck to hold you in place as he laps over your bottom lip, tasting you on his tongue until it's swollen. When you reluctantly pull away, needing to get back to work, your hand trails down to grab his. "Wanna help me serve?"

"I only know how to be served," he answers.

"Kinky?"

Rafe smirks. "Let's go to the backroom and find out."

You laugh again, pulling him behind the counter. You hand him the first glass and instruct him to behave because he had a tendency to grab your ass, pull you in posessively between serving customers, and surprise you with kisses.

Despite this, Rafe follows your orders. While he pretends not to care, he secretly loves the enthusiasm behind each demand. The sharp wit you show while bossing him around reminds him why he's attracted to you in the first place.

After recruiting Rafe as your second-in-command, the job becomes much easier. You don't know if it's the second set of hands, or because every customer who asks for a refill is met with a piercing glare that silently warns them to leave, but you end up going home earlier than expected.

By the time you arrive at the house, your sisters lift their sleepy gazes off the television, jump off their seats, and come running—tackling you and Rafe into a hug.

He didn't even have the time to set his duffel bag down before Amara nearly knocked him off his feet, clutching his legs like lifelines while she recounted her day at hourly intervals. However, he merely chuckles at the sight, running his hand through the mess of her hair, while giving his utmost attention. He even asked for follow-up questions about her day, which led to a minute-by-minute breakdown.

You watch with tenderness, recognizing Rafe's presence in your home. He has changed the very fabric of your family. Usually, getting your sisters ready for bed takes ages, filled with bemoaned complaints about wanting to stay up past bedtime, but now, they're nearly obedient.

Sitting on the couch, while your sisters are crisscrossed on the floor, you brush your sister's hair and braid them; Rafe does the same. He's steadily detangling Amara's hair, afraid to hurt her sensitive head, while she rattles on about nonsensical things. Despite struggling for the first couple of times with braiding, and reducing them to a magic happenstance that appears out of thin air, Rafe slowly learns the tool of the trade, perfecting it to Amara's liking.

When you finally send them off to bed, you and Rafe return to the couch. Your head leaned against the backseat, releasing a slow sigh, before turning to face Rafe. Both of you made the same move, at the same time, and it caused a smile to light your expression.

"Tired?" He proposes gently.

You shake your head. Truthfully, you are. It's been a long shift, on top of a long week, but being in the presence of your boyfriend melts away all the exhaustion. You just want a few more moments, alone, with him.

Making the bold choice, you climb onto his lap. With your knees on either side of his hips, your arms looped around his neck, and your chin tilted slightly downward to meet his gaze.

Rafe tilts his head slightly to the side, amusement fliting his features. "Hi, pretty girl."

"Hi," you say timidly, heart lunging out of your chest, and desire pools in your stomach. Rafe watches you for a few seconds as your mind fills with choices, but all of them are silenced when you lower yourself to kiss him.

At first, it surprises Rafe. He assumed you didn't have the energy to start anything, after the long hours, but with you deliciously placed on his lap like his own personal meal, he couldn't help the pang of need stirring within. His hands find your waist, drawing you close, while his fingers splayed across your rode-up top, grazing your bra.

Pulling away, just slightly for air, his mouth hovers over yours to ask, "What's this for?"

"I miss you," you mumble a breathy answer, before recapturing his lips. This time, he has no objective. His hands slide under your bra, gliding across your heated skin and raising goosebumps in its wake.

For the next few minutes, it was just a lazy makeout with quiet groans and moans. Your core rocks gently over his lap, coming into contact with his growing erection, until it becomes impossible to ignore. Your lips pull to a teasing smile, and Rafe catches it, "Know how I feel about you now?" He asks hotly against your swollen lips.

"You're so obsessed with me," you declare.

"I am."

You grind against him, finding the right spot that allows your panties to graze his hardened cock underneath his jeans. Rafe groans into your mouth, the low sound sending a shiver down your spine, while timid flutters of pleasure curl in your stomach.

"I need you," you murmur against his lips, kissing down his jaw to the column of his neck. When your hands find the button of his jeans, you lift your innocent gaze to ask, "Can I blow you?"

This fucking girl.

Wordlessly lifting his hips, you remove his pants and briefs until his cock springs free. Half of you want to push your panties to the side and sink on his length, but the other half wants to edge yourself. Sliding to the floor, with your knees scraping the carpet, your hands timidly wrap around his girth.

"Fuck," he groans lowly, tipping his head back when you dribble spit on his tip and rub his cock, the grip of your soft hands feels good, but not enough. "Baby, put your mouth on it."

"Say please," you tease.

"Please," he begs, and satisfaction reverberates through you as a hand drops, and his cock enters your mouth, your tongue lapping over the crown. With the other hand wrapped around the base, pumping him, you slide down his length until he touches the back of your throat.

Rafe lets out a guttural groan.

His hands slide through your hair as he pushes you deeper, and you gag, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure up his spine.

His words come out choked and unsteady as you quicken up the pace; pumping and sucking him off. You hollow your cheeks to produce suction and rub him with your spit until his cock twitches in your mouth.

"Fuck," he moans again, hips lifting off the seat as your free hand presses down his thigh. You go faster, and faster until spurts of hot cum hits the base of your throat and Rafe finishes inside your mouth.

He grabs your arm and hauls you to his lap, greeting you with a well-deserved kiss. When he pulls away, forehead resting against yours, breathing heavily, he whispers, "I wanna be inside of you."

You trailing your thumb down his jaw. "Will you beg for it?"

"Sweetheart," he warns.

"That's not a very nice tone," you tease, pulling away as punishment, but Rafe grips your arm tighter. Quickly standing, Rafe lifts you up and off his lap, your legs wrap around his torso as he carries you off.

Rafe enters your bedroom and locks the newly-fixed door. Everything else moves within a blur—Rafe pulling off the remainder of his clothes before removing yours. Your giggles echo the chambers as you run away from him, only for Rafe to easily snatch you by the waist and throw you onto the bed.

Your back hits the sheets as you land with a thump, and laughter escapes. Rafe's warm body covers yours as his hot mouth attacks you with kisses, nibbling on your bottom lip, pulling the plush between his teeth as a sensual penalty.

His hands slowly descend between your parted thighs, finding your slick core waiting for him.

"You're so wet for me," he murmurs against your swollen lips. "Does sucking me off turn you on?"

You nod eagerly, putting his mouth back on yours before his fingers spread your wet folds. You whimper, clenching around nothing, as he skillfully strokes your pussy, teasing your swollen nub, but not quite satisfying you. "Rafe."

"Yes, baby?"

"Inside," you command, but your voice wavers from the sparks of pleasure he's eliciting.

"Inside," he mocks, "inside where?"

Your core clenches around nothingness. His cockiness mixed with his strokes causes your mind to short-circuit. "Rafe, please," you beg because that's all you seem to be able to say.

"Say it again," he orders, rolling your clit between his thumb and pointer finger. Your hips lift to chase the feeling, only for him to push it down firmly. "Ask me politely."

"Baby," you whimper, capturing the nape of his neck and dragging his mouth back to yours, "please fuck me."

Rafe grins, before removing his hand. The emptiness of his touch leaves much to be desired before you feel the tip of his cock grazing your slick, and he sinks into you, inch by inch.

You gasp at the intrusion before the familiar buzz of pleasure warms your stomach and Rafe begins to rock his hips.

"You feel so fucking perfect," Rafe says through gritted teeth. Stealing your breath away with each thrust, the way his cock presses right against your cervix, the way your walls flutter around him as he quickens his pace. Rafe pushes your legs onto his shoulders and kisses one of your ankles as he fucks you.

"Go faster," you order, nails digging into your sheets. Rafe grins, fastening his thrusts as he watches the way his cock enters and leaves your pussy—over and over again, the way you swallow him whole. Slowly, the build of your release coils inside.

Moans and whimpers leave your lips, each sound becoming more desperate, and incessant, and needy until you're tipped over the edge and come crashing down.

Rafe hasn't come, and plowing into your overstimulation, he fucks you until he releases himself, finishing inside of you.

When Rafe pulls out, he collapses into the space beside you, breathing heavily. In the clarity of post-sex, his mind returns to the one place he wishes it doesn't.

Despite everything, despite being with you, Rafe still has Sarah's words in the back of his mind. He doesn't want to, and he has faith in you, but something about his sister's words is everlasting and terrifying. It has him locked in thought, and it appears on his face, because when you turn your head to look at him, you ask, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answers quickly.

"Rafe..."

"It's fine," he declares. "Nothing important, I swear."

By the look on his face, you know that's not true, but Rafe has always been the type of person who doesn't talk unless they're ready, and you don't want to push further onto the subject.

"Okay," you agree, switching gears. "Then, I have some news."

Rafe tilts his head, especially after hearing the bubbling of excitement contained in your voice. "Yeah?" He asks, turning his body towards you, and pulling you into his arms. "What is it?"

Grinning, you announce, "I got a catering gig."

Your joy is contagious, and he mirrors it with a soft smile. "Really? For who?"

"Sarah."

All of the air in Rafe's lungs goes stale. His shoulders become rigid, and the daze from the sex disappears. Sobriety covers his features, but you're too excited about the announcement to catch the subtle shift.

"What?" Rafe's astonishment is light, almost undetectable, and it works. You don't catch it—neither his tone nor the fall of his expression. Your happiness bleeds into ignorance, and you gloss over the details.

"Yeah. Your dad asked me to cater for her birthday coming up," you explain. "I was contemplating saying no, but the gig pays really well, and since a lot of Kooks attend these parties, I had to agree."

The thing about Camerons' birthday extravaganzas is that they're not an exclusive event; it's a parade. Especially with the return of Ward Cameron's golden child, Rafe isn't surprised that his father pushed for a big celebration. However, dread suddenly fills his veins at the thought that this could mean something more.

Not just the fact that it was Ward soliciting your service, but the fact that Sarah had agreed to it. This has to be some kind of power move; a play for her to demonstrate that she holds more control over Rafe than he wants her to.

You continue to talk about your plans, specifically what drinks you'll be serving and what menu you'll have. But Rafe stopped listening. His mind is elsewhere, his thoughts eluding him, and amid a rambling that he isn't registering, he suddenly interrupts you to say, "Don't take it."

You blink in surprise. Your brows pull together in confusion, and when you finally turn to Rafe, all sense of amusement is gone. "Why?"

He couldn't tell you. He couldn't explain that the reason was because of him. It's selfish, but he needs it. If you take it, it means you're proving her right, and him wrong. It means that if she's right about this thing, she must be right about the others too.

He doesn't want to put you in this position, but he needs to know your loyalty.

"Just don't take it."

Now, you're more confused. You pull away slightly from his grip to evaluate his face, trying to figure out if this is some sort of joke. But Rafe doesn't deliver a gotcha! His expression is stern, and his request is absolute. Is he really asking you to forgo one of the biggest gigs of your life?

"Why?"

He shakes his head. "I'll pay you."

Flabbergasted, you say. "What?"

"I'll pay you double what they're paying you—just don't take it."

Your mouth drops to an unsteady frown. "That's not the point."

He doesn't know how to argue. He wants to be happy for you, but he can't. It's Sarah. It's his sister. He believes this is some ulterior motive to break you two apart. "Just... Just don't take it. Please."

"Why?" You ask again, pressingly, and agitation ticks at his jaw.

"Can't you just listen to me?" He snaps. "Don't take it."

This time, you withdraw. It isn't the aggression that frightens you, you've seen those sides of Rafe before. But this time, it's different. This time, it feels more tormented and frantic. Off.

You don't answer, recognizing this atmosphere as too tense. You don't want to get into a fight, and you don't know what to say that'll satisfy him. "I'm..." You begin, unsure of where the sentence is heading. You glance at the door. "I'm going to take a shower."

You get up from bed and grab some clothes before heading into your ensuite bathroom, locking the door with a soft click. Rafe remains in your room, unmoved. When the sound of water runs, he sighs heavily, glancing around the space, at the door, but nothing helps.

Fear creeps over him like a second skin. Daunting, present, and perpetual. You didn't give him an answer, and honestly, he doesn't know if you will.

But he knows one thing.

Sarah's right.

And if Sarah's right, then that can only lead to one conclusion.

He's going to lose you.

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).

TAGLIST FOR PF: @uraesthete / @maybankslover / @trshngyn / @irides-solstice / @groovycass / @emmalandry / @rivaiken / @outlawedmando / @ditzyzombiesblog / @mattyskies / @sunshinepanic / @too-deviant / @rafesgiirl / @vvvhack / @rafestaurusgf / @cami-is-reading / @peachesmilk / @whore4fictionalman / @artemiswinnick / @janediazwindsor / @pandora-rosier1 / @solanathascientst / @itshellie / @grace-sully / @loveyouok / @tayrcse / @mysteris-things / @ella131989 / @starrkissezz / @sanriobuny / @chopshopcheesecake / @fentyxmalik / @fleets-world / @supernaturalwriter / @taylorsmissamericanna / @hehelollmao / @lac0nically / @elysiasshit / @kravitzwhore / @tommysaxes / @ma-yang / @carolinaxvz / @bandsbooks / @sourjoonie / @rafemotherfuckingcameron / @mintforadollar / @itneverendshere

Navigation — Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16

[maybanksprincess]

im your baby

WARNINGS: a little angsty, fluff towards the end, cussing, mentions of sophia, insecurity, reassurance, alcohol consumption, suggestive-ish, mentions of marriage.

lias note — requested by my lovely mootie @rafenroostersgirl, this ask was so amazing and I loved writing about it! im not the best at angst so please excuse any mistakes :( thank you so much for the request. go read her ask here!

pairings: crybaby!reader x rafe cameron

Rafe came to the bar to get a little tipsy and forget about his problems for a while. Ward had been up his ass for what felt like the longest, he had plenty of contracts at home waiting for him to sign, lots of business deals to seal, and on top of everything, he had to deal with your clinginess.

It was very often that you'd get clingy and always want to be around him, but he was a busy man, he'd never dealt with anyone wanting to cling to him, so it was difficult to adjust to. He was used to always being alone, or too busy to think about anything else but what he was working on.

This whole relationship thing was new to him, so naturally he isn't a very touchy-feely guy, and wants his own space, but you were the exact opposite. You always wanted hugs or attention, constantly pulling on his arm or clinging to his side.

he was honestly used to hooking up with girls and leaving the second after, until he met you. Something about you struck his interest, something he couldn't ignore. But geez, no one told him how exhausting it was to have a girlfriend.

On top of everything, he would get strange glances, and cruel words spread over the island about him all because he's dating a Pogue. no kook dates a Pogue. Out of everyone on the island, you'd sort of figure Rafe would be the one to be telling someone else that. But no, he was actually the one in love with a Pogue. Someone who came from the cut. How embarrassing for him....

as he's lost in his thoughts, he's suddenly interrupted by a sweet voice coming from behind the counter. He puts his drink down on the table, his movements slightly sluggish from the bit of alcohol he'd already consumed. he tilts his head up to look at her, taking in her toothy smile, and bartender uniform that she has on.

his thoughts are interrupted once more when she looks down at him, speaking softly "are you okay?" she asks, with a gentle and concerned look, while whipping up a drink for another customer sat at the bar.

he nods his head vigorously, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. he peels his eyes back open and look up at her behind the counter, "yeah 'm fine. jus' a real shitty night." he says, lifting the cup back to his lips.

she tilts her head, gently trying to press the issue, seeing that he was stressed and upset. "Do you want to talk about it?" she says, picking up the cleaning supplies for the counter. his eyes study her, watching as she cleans off the counter, his pupils dilated.

he ponders on the question in his drunken mind for a moment before replying, his words slightly slurred. "yeah, yeah. can i get another one of these though?" he says, raising his glass.

she nods, grabbing the glass out of his shaky hand, pouring the alcohol into it, waiting for him to speak when he's ready. after a few moments, the buzzed blonde lifts his head again, looking up at her.

"My girlfriend, she's just so annoying..." he starts, "I mean she always wants to be next to me, huggin' me and shit." he says, waving his hand and rolling his eyes. he snatches the half empty glass, bringing it to his lips once more, taking a long sip, his words slurred, and voice unsteady.

he swallows the liquid with a loud gulp, turning to narrow his eyes at the brunette once more. "im not used t' that, y'know? its all new to me..." he says, a hint of vulnerability behind his words.

---

Rafe had been ignoring you for a few days now, figuring out ways to end the conversation faster, trying to avoid your affectionate gestures, staying out later, being too busy with work to hangout, it was starting to make you feel like he was seeing someone else.

you looked at his shared location, driving to the location it showed to you. taking a deep breath, you step out of the car, entering the crowded bar. you fiddle with your hands shyly as you walk around to find the buzzed man.

When you finally spotted him, you almost felt relieved, until you saw him talking to the pretty brunette behind the counter, her smile making your insides churn. You came to a halt, hesitating for a moment, before continuing to walk over to him.

you reach out with shaky hands, tapping his shoulder softly, the familiar feeling of the tears starting to form in your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.

He sees the tears forming in your eyes and he immediately feels a sense of protectiveness and guilt, pulling you to his broad chest, giving you a hug the best he can in his drunken state. he knows better than to say anything, so he waits for you to speak.

"Are you seeing someone else?" you hiccup through the tears, not daring to bring your head away from his chest, soaking his shirt with your salty tears. he shushes you softly, cradling your head like you were the most precious baby in the world.

"no, no, no, hey, 'm not cheating." he slurs, the strong scent of alcohol on his breath making your nose turn up in disgust, but he doesnt seem to realize.

the tears continue to spill looking from him to the lady pouring drinks for people, silently sizing her up, figuring out how she was better than you. Rafe grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head so he can look you straight in the eye.

even if he was drunk, he really loved you and he wouldn't cheat. no matter how sensitive, clingy, impatient, and poor you were, he knew who his girlfriend was. And for you he was willing to try and change his ways.

he grabs your hand in his bigger one, intertwining his fingers with yours, leading you out of the bar and to his car that costed more than your life.

he cups your cheek in his large hand, the coolness of his ring hitting your damp skin as he looks down at you with soft, vulnerable eyes that are reserved for only you. "Baby you gotta believe me when I say I only want you." he pleads, using the pads of both his thumbs to wipe your tears away.

you sniffle and nod, soaking up his reassurances, and leaning into his soft touches. you knew despite rafe's rough exterior, he was trying to change. and you wanted to be there for him.

"I know..." you mumble softly, pulling him into a tight hug, making up for all the lost time. "Just promise you won't try to hide your feelings anymore. when things get bad at home, you can talk to me."

"i know," he says on the verge of his own tears. "Which is why I wanna marry you... I wanna be with you the rest of my life." a few tears fall from his blue eyes as he speaks.

he pulls away from the hug to slip his gold signet ring off his finger, staring at it for a moment before grabbing your left hand, slipping it onto your ring finger.

"I don't have a wedding ring on me right now," he chuckles in between his happy, drunken tears, "but for now, I want you to have this." he says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the ring on your finger, his lips lingering for a few moments.

you open your mouth to say something, but you didn't know what to say. you pull him into another tight embrace, sighing softly in relief of being in his arms again, admiring the ring on your finger that was once on his.

"I love you so much, Rafe." You say, even though you could barely speak through the intense emotions that were flooding through your veins.

"I love you too, sweetheart. and I'm gonna be the man you need, the man that you deserve. you hear?" he says, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, picking you up with ease, pressing kisses to your neck.

a mischievous grin spreads across his face, nibbling on your neck. "gotta bring y' home and make it up to you. huh baby?" he grins.

[miley1442111]

heyy, i love your writing! I was thinking a rafe x fem reader, where Rafe says they don’t have anything, she was just a hook up etc when he was actually just scared of having feelings for a girl for the first time in his life. she gets with JJ to make him jealous and it works, but instead of being that mad Rafe Cameron he just open his heart and his fears to her (even end up crying a bit)

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

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

mistakes and misjudgements

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

a/n: hi! thank you so much for requesting! I love this idea!

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

summary: i suggest you look at the request

warnings: kissing, toxic relationship, rafe is confused, cursing, drinking, suggestive mentions, mentions of rafe's addictions (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

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

Rafe walked past the bar, his eyes searching for yours. You, the pogue bartender at the club, had caught the Rafe Cameron’s eye, and he wasn’t about to let you go. 

He was met with Jj. His smile dropped, while Jj’s smirk rose. 

“What can I get you, Cameron? A vodka cranberry? I can mix it with the blood of the people you’ve murdered?-”

Jj stopped talking when Rafe leaned in closer. 

“Just a water, thanks.” 

Jj nodded and walked to the fridge to grab him a bottle, and then you walked up, and he watched as Rafe’s demeanour changed. He was softer, sweeter, and funnier. Jj almost laughed out loud at the way Rafe pushed some hair back from your face, that sickly sweet smile on his face. 

Jj moved you over, his hands on your waist and handed Rafe his water. “Water for the gentleman.”

Rafe’s smile dropped. “Thanks man.”

“Oh, Jj, this is my boyfriend, Rafe,” you smiled, introducing the two.

Bile rose in Rafe's stomach. Were you two dating? But that came with so much more than just the fun dates you two were indulging in. That would mean he’d have to be vulnerable with you. And the fact that you hated his drug use, something he’d been struggling to stop for a while now. And he knew you were too good for him, it was only a matter of time before you figured it out yourself and-

His mouth moved before his brain could stop it. “Woah,” Rafe deflected. “I’m not her boyfriend, we’re just… casual,” he shrugged. 

Your face fell and Rafe had never felt so bad. “Right, casual.”

You hated that word. You hated how he used it. You hated how you thought, even just for a second, that you would settle for that.

Jj’s smile widened. “Well, there’s your water. See you ‘round Kook,” and with that, Jj turned his back on Rafe and turned to you. “You alright?”

You nodded, more annoyed than anything else. “He’s such an asshole.”

“I hate to say ‘I told you so’, but I did warn you-” before he could finish you hit him with a towel, which ended up in a towel fight in the bar, neither of you aware of the searing eyes of Rafe Cameron. 

Maybe he’d fucked up. Maybe he did want to be your boyfriend. 

Maybe. 

Jj was appalled at what Rafe had done. Casual? What was wrong with him? He had the prettiest, kindest, most amazing girl on the island, if not the world, and he was throwing it away, for what? To fuck other people? That didn’t make any sense. So you two made a plan.  

He was going to ask you out. Now, Jj liked you, yes, but as a friend. You liked Jj, yes, but again, as a friend. So you two could ‘go out’ with each other and make Rafe jealous. For the simple reason of principal, you had to make Rafe pay, it was only fair. 

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

When you walked into the party, you immediately found Jj and clung to him for the whole night. Everyone was talking about you two, especially since most people thought you were dating Rafe. 

You two danced, drank, and even made out, and by the end of the night, you knew you’d sent a message Rafe’s way by the amount of texts you’d received.  

Rafe: Wtf are you doing with him?

Rafe: Text me back.

Rafe: Stop being so close to him. Come talk to me 

Rafe: Please Y/n.

Rafe: I got the fucking message now stop it.

Rafe: You have my attention, you always do. Get off of him.

Rafe: Please come talk to me.

Rafe: Y/n stop.

Rafe: Please. 

Rafe: I know I fucked up, come on. This isn’t fair.

Rafe: I made a mistake Y/n, I’m sorry.

Rafe: Fuck this, I’ll be at Tanneyhill when you’re ready to talk to me like an adult. 

Rafe: Please talk to me. Please.

You chuckled as you read through the messages, Sarah by your side. 

“Oh my god! That’s why he was so upset leaving the party!” she laughed. 

Your stomach dropped. Rafe shouldn't have been upset, he didn't care about you, right? You were just another girl he was talking to and planning on fucking, right? “What do you mean?”

“Oh yeah, Kelce was telling me he was super worked up and upset all night so he left. He didn’t even do anything but he was pacing the entire night. Top though he’d had a panic attack.”

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath. “Hey, I think I might call it a night,” you turned to the group. 

“Aww come on! The night’s just started,” Kiara pleaded, you chuckled and shook your head. 

“I’m tired!” you lied. “And I have work tomorrow.”

You needed to talk to Rafe right now. 

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

The walk from the beach to Tanneyhill was quick but full of quiet and anxious scenarios. You didn’t mean to make him upset, you just wanted to show him what he was missing. He embarrassed you earlier, and you wanted to get him back. You never meant to cause harm. 

You knocked on the door, hoping he was ok, and internally hoping it would be him to open the door, considering you were wearing a very short dress that you knew Rose would turn her nose up at. 

The door swung open to reveal… Rafe. 

But he looked… upset? His eyes were red-rimmed and his nose was sniffly, he’d been crying. You’d made him cry. 

“Hi,” he sniffled, and your heart just broke. Your Rafe had been crying over you.  

You cupped his cheeks and pulled him closer. “I’m sorry,” you whispered and he shook his head, trying to hold back more tears. 

“It’s fine,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and tired. 

“It’s not. I’m so sorry Rafe,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek and that was all it took, the floodgates opened and he wrapped his arms around you, allowing him to be held by you. You sank down to the steps and let him cry into your neck for a few minutes. You softly brushed through his hair with your fingers and whispered hushed apologies and promises of everything being ok. After a few minutes he was coherent enough to speak. He pulled back, wiping his eyes with his hand as you sat beside him, confused and feeling awful. 

“I got so… jealous for a while, seeing you and Jj at work. I have no idea why. A-and then at the party, I saw you two just laughing a-and ha-having fun,” he hiccuped. “And I realised that I-I’m not like that. I’m not f-funny. I don’t make you laugh. I’m not ve-very fun to b-be around.” 

Your heart broke as you saw the little known insecure side of Rafe Cameron. Obviously, Jj and Rafe were different people, but you enjoyed Rafe’s dad jokes, just as much as you enjoyed Jj’s dry sarcasm. You and Jj had known each other practically since birth, so obviously you were more relaxed around him than with Rafe. Especially with Rafe, at the beginning you were so tense on every date, always worried that you were going to say the wrong thing, since this was your first real relationship. 

“I love being around you,” you cooed, cupping his cheek. “I think you’re funny. You make me laugh all the time.”

He nodded. “B-but I’m not like that, I’m… different. I’m not e-easy to be with, with the d-drinking and the baggage, and the drugs. I know that, a-and I promise I’m trying to change, t-to be better f-for you, it’s just h–hard. A-and I’m so scared that I’m going to lose you i-if I do the wrong thing.” 

“You’re not going to lose me,” you promised. “I swear.”

“But you and Jj-?”

“I was… trying to make you jealous,” you admitted, slightly embarrassed. 

“Oh,” he sighed. “That’s g-good. ‘Cause I really like you. And I want you to be my girlfriend.” 

You smiled. “I’m all yours Rafe, and we’ll work through it all together. I’m here for you, always.”

You took his hand in your and smiled. 

His other hand came up to cup your cheek, and he pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss.

You'd get through it all, together.

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

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Comfort in Unexpected Places | Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: you and JJ broke things off, but whose arms *cough*-bed do you fall into looking for comfort?

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Trying to clean up my drafts. x

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

“Me and y/n are over. I broke it off last night.”

“Ok good, cause I slept with her last night.”

"After all we've been through-" You follow JJ down to the dock where he's untying the boat, "You're just going to end things?!"

"We both deserve better. Look we've been through a lot, but I think the feelings are just not there anymore, you know?" He shrugs, "I don't want to string you along anymore."

"String me-" You scoff, "string me along? Whatever, JJ. You're such a dick and I can't believe I wasted so much time on you."

You stomp away, pissed and broken hearted. After all this time, all this effort you'd put into the relationship and into JJ and he ends things? You'd done everything to try and help him get on to a better path.

You find yourself a few drinks deep at the local dive bar a cigarette hanging between your lips, you take a drag.

"When did we start smoking?"

You blow the smoke out, recognizing the voice, "a girl can have a cigarette every now and then."

He slips in the stool next to you, waving down the bartender, "I'll have what she's having." He smirks a little, side eyeing you, "and put her drinks on my tab."

"oh?" You crush the cigarette in the ash tray, "You're going to pay for my drinks?"

He shrugs, "a little birdie told me you were nursing a broken heart. I figured it's the least I can do."

"Word travels fast."

"You deserved better than Maybank anyways." Rafe places a hand on the back of the stool, leaning toward you, "I've been waiting for him to fuck up so I can swing in and save you."

You roll your eyes, laughing, "You're so stupid," You push him away from you. "You've never once looked my way. I'm not your type."

He chuckles, but leans in once more, eyes locked on yours, "Now, how do you know you're not my type? Maybe you've had your eyes on the wrong guy and haven't noticed me yet?" It was the truth. He'd had his eyes on you all this time, but knowing you were Maybank's there was no overstepping. You weren't his. Now though? Now you were anyone's. And Rafe wanted to make you his tonight.

You feel yourself heat up at the look he's giving you. A look of passion and longing. Suddenly you start to look at Rafe differently. Had he always been this hot and desirable? Maybe it was the alcohol but when Rafe asked you if you wanted to get out of there, you didn't hesitate to take his hand and follow him wherever he took you.

~

The next night a local party, you'd stepped away to grab a drink when JJ and the rest of the Pogues arrived. Rafe couldn't wait for this. The moment he could rub it in JJ's face. JJ had fumbled losing you. You were beautiful, funny and Rafe realized he wished he'd over stepped the boundary sooner so he could have had more time with you.

"Hey man," Rafe approached JJ, "How's it going?"

"Fine," JJ replied, "What do you want?"

"Oh you know," he sips his beer, "I was just wondering about y/n? You two showed up separately tonight."

“Me and y/n are over. I broke it off last night.” JJ says.

Rafe can't help the smirk that plays against his lips, “Ok good, cause I slept with her last night.”

If looks could kill. JJ's sure he didn't hear him right, "Excuse me?"

"y/n." Rafe points to you at the drink table, "I slept with her last night."

"You son of a bitch-" JJ lunges at Rafe, who is chuckling and shakes JJ off.

"Hey man, you broke it off with her. That's on you. I'd say you lost the best thing that could have happened to you. But I also have to thank you." He watches you heading toward him and smiles at you, patting JJ on the shoulder without even looking his way, "Cause now she's my treasure."

~

Thanks for reading! Comments, likes and reblogs always welcomed and appreciated! x

[itneverendshere]

jj and pope at rafe’s x bartender!reader wedding🙂‍↕️☝🏼 it’s canon

my boys

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part five) (end)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

Rafe knocks again. And again. And again.

Your front door rattles in its frame, his knuckles still sore from the punches he threw at the bonfire last night.

He sat in the holding cell after being questioned by Brading, ruminating over everything he’ll say to you when he sees you. He needs to tell you that you’re right; the detective is onto you both.

Brading brought up your name, asking about Porter, asking what Rafe had over you that would make you want to protect him.

He’s confident you’re both guilty, but he doesn’t have the evidence to prove it. He’d booked him on a drug charge, telling him they’d searched his bedroom and found enough coke to arrest him for more than just possession.

His questions had nothing to do with that.

He demanded Rafe tell him about Porter, trying to provoke him into a confession. As he sat in the small, dingy interrogation room, your words echoed in his head. I don’t think we should talk to him without a lawyer.

So, he didn’t. Brading gave up and threw him back into his cell. Rafe would’ve lost his temper if he didn’t have you to protect.

The lawyer came in with Ward early this morning. After Rafe told him about the arrest, the lawyer explained that Brading had abused his power by not providing Rafe with his right to make a phone call.

Rafe couldn’t make eye contact with his father as he was escorted into a courtroom for the bail hearing an hour later. The lawyer was well worth the money Rafe is sure his father is paying him. He was given a court date and granted bail, which Ward covered.

“I’m sorry I got mixed up in this, okay?” Rafe had muttered to his father in the car on their way home. “I’ll get clean. I’ll stop selling.”

“You should know better,” Ward sighed. “The cops showing up to our house like that… what are you thinking?”

“I’m not,” he said.

“And what was that… about that missing kid? You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”

His own father jumping to the worst conclusion, even though it’s true, pierced the wound Rafe has held in his heart since childhood. He’s nothing but a disappointment. A stain on the family name.

Now, he’s at your front door, and he’s been knocking for what feels like five straight minutes. Nobody’s answering. The house looks empty. The car is gone.

He checks his phone again to see it’s almost two in the afternoon. All his texts and calls to you have gone undelivered.

He can’t even entertain the thought that you’re doing it on purpose; he knows you’re loyal to him. He never thought he’d trust somebody the way he trusts you, but he does, and he would never expect you to turn on him.

He needs to find you.

He makes his way to the country club, figuring you must be at work. When he rushes to the restaurant, tapping the bartop, he impatiently asks where you are.

The bartender looks at Rafe with a look he can’t quite read.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Rafe says. It’s the first time he used that title, but it feels right for what he has with you. “Is she working today or not?”

“Oh… I…” The bartender uneasily looks around the room. “I shouldn’t be the one to... I don’t…”

“What?” Rafe snaps.

“Our boss told us this morning,” he responds, his expression pained. He leans closer, hesitating as he says, “She was in a car accident and she didn’t make it. I’m sorry, man. I wish I wasn’t the one to tell you.”

Rafe straightens, his body flooding with a sharp, harrowing chill.

“You…” He shakes his head. “You got something wrong. You don’t– you’re confused.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know her that well, but…” The bartender nervously shrugs. “Everyone liked her.”

Liked her. Liked. You’re not in the past tense. You’re here. You’re somewhere around here. The ringing in his ears grows louder. The man only shakes his head, frowning in sympathy.

“You’re confused,” Rafe repeats. “What did– who told you that?”

“My boss,” he tells him again.

Rafe erratically rushes out of the building, starting his car even though he doesn’t know where to go, and looks ahead with a blank stare as his chest heaves.

“No,” he mutters to himself, his voice strained. “No, this is– he’s fucking wrong. This is…”

There’s no way this is real.

He pulls his phone out to call you. Again, it doesn’t even ring. His phone beeps with the dropped call notification. He tries again. Nothing.

His limbs are shaking, eyes burning with tears. A mistake. It’s a mistake. He just needs to find another way to contact you.

He opens a social media app to message you there. Before he can type in the search bar, a smiling photo of you is at the top of his feed.

It’s a news article. Local woman dead after late night crash. The post caption reads: This is crazy. She was so young :( Rest in peace.

He taps to read the comments, reading worthless prayers and canned condolences as he keeps scrolling, every roll of his thumb making him sicker.

He finds the article. Saliva coats his tongue and he’s sure he’s about to throw up as he reads it.

The vehicle was traveling southbound… Ran off the roadway… Pronounced deceased on scene.

No. You were just with him last night, a living, breathing, beautiful girl telling him you care about him, your touch warm and soft and real.

Deceased. That cold, final word doesn’t describe you. It can’t.

He barely makes it in time to open his door and vomit on the concrete. When he slams his hands over his steering wheel, he does it until his palms throb in pain. He cries until his throat burns.

No. This can’t be real.

╰┈➤ three weeks later

The town you live in now is in a land-locked state with an even smaller population than Kildare. The agent in charge of your case gave you and your parents everything you needed to assume your new lives.

Your old one ended on a road back home, covered up with a story that you’d lost control of your friend’s car and died on impact.

You’re sitting in the therapist’s office, picking at a loose string on your shirt. The protection program placed you with a clinical psychologist who specializes in trauma recovery, but you worry you’ll never be able to rid yourself of the paralyzing pain that has sept into your heart.

You come here once a week. You’re supposed to be moving on, setting roots here, accepting your new identity.

But you haven’t and you can’t. You’re not allowed to contact anyone, but every day, more and more, you yearn to find a way to tell the people you love that you’re okay, to put them out of their grief and misery.

You wouldn’t dare take the risk, but you’re constantly checking on what you left on the island, searching news sites and social media for anything you can find through a faceless account.

Rafe’s arrest record is public. Sale and distribution of an illegal substance. You know now that Brading arrested him for coke that night. You’re sure he did it just to get Rafe in custody to be able to intimidate him into talking about Porter.

You know nothing else about him. He hasn’t posted anything since you left. His name only comes up on the law enforcement website, offering no further information on a trial or a sentencing.

When you look up your friends, seeing the photos and messages they posted in memoriam of you never gets easier. You left JJ and Pope and John B with the shock of seeing you in Rafe’s arms, then you left in JJ’s car, unknowingly racing towards your faked death.

The investigation on Porter has hit a dead end. The last article came out a week ago titled: Family seeks closure as disappearance of Porter Arnoult remains a mystery.

And the man who shot Brading, who made a full recovery, is still at large, meaning you’re still in danger.

“Come on in,” your therapist says gently, peeking out her office door.

You settle in the worn seat. You’ve told this woman everything but for the truth about the night that was the catalyst to the mess your life has become.

You promised Rafe you’d keep the secret to the grave. You meant it.

·········

The heaviest, sharpest ache sits in Rafe’s chest as he stands at your final resting place, as he reads your name in stone, a hyphen between two years that are much too close to each other.

There was no funeral. Word had gotten around that your parents were too distraught and left town shortly after the accident.

His head is pounding with his hangover, his body weak from the booze and coke he’s been pumping into it.

Stay out of trouble. That’s what his lawyer told him. But his court date is in a couple of days and he’s done everything but. This is the first time he’s come to your grave and he feels like a piece of shit for waiting so long, but he couldn’t do it.

He never deserved you. A piece of him knew, gnawed at him, that you’d realize he didn’t measure up. But he was ready to try, for once in his life, to be better.

And then, you were taken from him. And the idea of paying his respect to a girl who’s nothing but a memory now is not for your benefit. It’s for the grieving, and while he’s not worthy of that relief, he came to the cemetery in case he won’t get the chance again for a long time.

He’ll likely be going to prison soon. His lawyer said the best case scenario is a reduced sentence and a heavy fine.

Rafe’s numb to it. It’s why he’s been getting fucked up at parties, telling anyone who asks about you or him to shut up because he knows they don’t care. All he does is get wasted and open his wallet only to buy more shit to dull the pain.

You were a light in the clouds that always consumed him, and because you’d followed him after he’d gotten arrested, you died.

He’ll never forgive himself for the fact that caring for him is what killed you.

╰┈➤ one week later

It’s Rafe’s last night of freedom.

He was sentenced to 14 months. His life is fucked. All because he was an idiot who decided to sell coke.

Brading sat in the courtroom as the arresting officer, looking bitter, likely because his plan to get Rafe to crack about Porter’s case never worked.

His lawyer told him it was a win to get such a short sentence, as if living behind bars can ever be considered some sort of victory. He’s being locked up tomorrow, a nasty blotch on his record, a traumatic experience waiting for him.

He’s at a party on Figure Eight, dipped into a numbing high on a couch. Coke and booze coarse through his veins. He’s subconsciously been hoping that it’d kill him before he has to go to prison.

It’s been a month since you died. The hole in his chest only digs itself deeper, burying him alive. He ignores the people who pretend to care about him, remembering how they’d acted when rumors spread about him doing something to Porter.

He knows this will follow him forever, being suspected for Porter’s disappearance, being connected to you, the innocent girl who got involved with him then tragically passed away.

He doesn’t care what people think. He thought he was lethargic before. That was nothing.

He gets lost in the high, hearing the people and the music around him, catching flashes of phones in the crowd as people celebrate life while he wishes his would just end.

“What were you doing with her?”

Rafe’s vision blurs and refocuses until he can see who’s standing over him in the crowded living room. It’s Pope, his nostrils flared in anger.

JJ and John B stand close behind, disgusted looks on their faces.

“Fuck off,” Rafe slurs.

“What were you doing with her?” JJ shouts louder. A few heads turn at the noise.

Rafe’s jaw tenses in anger. His body is heavy, but he pushes himself off the couch, staring at your friends, knowing they have no fucking clue how badly he’s been suffering without you.

“She didn’t want to tell you,” Rafe mutters, “because she knew you assholes would make her feel bad about it.”

“She’s… she’s fucking dead because of you,” JJ says, his voice laced with tears. “She was on the road because of you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Rafe yells. He swore on his life that you’d always be safe with him. He deserves to die.

He has nothing to lose. He shoves JJ down onto the floor, landing a single punch before he’s pulled back and struck in the jaw with a hard fist.

Rafe spits out blood, his neck at the crook of the couch, knowing no amount of physical pain could come close to matching how bad his heart hurts.

·········

When you see Rafe in the background of a Kook’s social media story, your breath hitches. He’s sprawled out on a couch, head tipped back, lips parted and eyes rolling.

You know it’s stupid. You know you’re putting yourself in danger by doing it. You’re not supposed to contact a soul from your past life.

But he looks near death in the video.

You go to Rafe’s account and start to type with trembling fingers. You’re using the burner account you made, a fake name with no photo, but you hope reminding him of something only you two would remember is enough.

It’s me. The girl you always gave a $50 to at the club. I’m okay. I had to go into hiding. I had no choice. Please take care of yourself and don’t tell anyone about me. I miss you.

You don’t see his reply until you wake up the next day. What kind of sick joke is this?

It’s not a joke, you respond. I used to tell you all the time not to call me a Pogue, remember? I know this is confusing. I wish it wasn’t like this. I’m sorry.

He doesn’t respond. You don’t blame him. He thinks it’s a twisted prank. But even though it was a stupid risk to take, you’re glad you tried. You just wish it worked.

A day later, you unsend your messages and delete your account just in case.

╰┈➤ sixteen months later

“It’s completely your choice,” the program agent continues, sitting in the living room of the home you still don’t consider home. “We set you and your family up for permanent placement, but the man you saw was captured with his associates and died in a shoot-out. We’re confident you’re no longer in danger. You can choose to stay here, or go back.”

You look at your parents with wide eyes, in utter disbelief. It’s been over a year. You all have jobs and friends and a foundation now, even though it’s built on lies.

But you’ve been aching to go home since the day you moved here. And you’re going back to the island, with or without your parents.

╰┈➤ three days later

The flight was painfully long. You came alone. Your parents didn’t feel the need to go back in time and come here. They don’t have the ties you do to home.

The fact that they could watch you leave was confirmation that all you shared with them was a last name. You always felt alone around them. You never had their love. Not really. It’s why you clung to your friends.

Kildare’s salty breeze is the same. Even the way the sun hits here feels unique. You keep the window of your rental car down as you drive through familiar streets.

You’d considered contacting your friends before finding them, but what happened with Rafe would likely happen with them. They’d think it was a cruel prank. They wouldn’t believe you.

It’s a sunny afternoon. You knock on JJ’s door. Your heart is in your throat. You’ve been discreetly keeping up with what your friends publicly post. It seems life here never changes much.

You crave the familiarity. The peace.

The door swings open. JJ stares at you like he’s seen a ghost. You expected as much.

“Hi,” your voice is thin, what you rehearsed coming out rushed. “I witnessed a crime and I was put into protection. They had to fake my death and put me somewhere safe. But I’m not in danger anymore. And they let me come back.”

He doesn’t have the words. You don’t blame him. He pulls you in and this is what you’ve been missing so agonizingly – feeling wanted.

He invites the guys over and after a tearful reunion and a long catch-up, you finally ask them about Rafe, terrified you’ll hear the worst, even though you’ve been keeping up with local news.

“He just got outta jail,” JJ says.

“For what?” you ask, worried he took the fall for what you did to Porter.

“Selling coke,” he says. “I think he got like, a year. I’m pretty sure his dad paid to get it scrubbed from the internet.”

“He kind of went crazy after you…” Pope trails off. “Crazier than usual. But since he got out, he’s not bothering us. He’s just quiet. He’s different now.”

You nod, desperate to go see him.

“What happened that night?” JJ asks. “Were you and him… like, a thing?”

“Yeah,” you say. “He’s… He wasn’t who we always thought he was. I was surprised, too. It happened really fast. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” JJ says.

You give him a grateful smile, knowing it won’t take long at all to get used to this again, to being your old self with your old friends. You left, but your heart stayed here.

·········

Rafe’s sister is visibly in shock to see you when you show up at the Camerons’ doorstep later that afternoon. You tell her what happened, sure the gossip will spread before you even step foot off the property, and ask her where Rafe is.

She tells you he went out on the family’s boat. You thank her and head over to the marina.

·········

Rafe spent every day in prison thinking about those messages he got the night before he was put behind bars. The person behind the account knew things only you would.

It might have been a twisted joke or someone’s way of keeping him above water while he wished he could drown.

But nobody would care enough about him to do that. Only you.

He never saw a response after he replied, and fourteen months later, when he got his phone back, the messages and the account were gone.

It’s been nearly a year and a half since you left. Hope is a ridiculous thing. He doesn’t even consider it your death anymore. You left.

The only thing that kept him going through his monotonous, soul-draining time in prison was the nearly invisible shred of hope that it really was you who sent him those messages.

He wishes he could remember the account name. It was a random assortment of letters and numbers. Sometimes, he’s convinced he dreamed it, like his survival instinct kicked in and made him hallucinate the possibility that you didn’t actually die.

He gazes out at the deep blue water, white caps tumbling over the waves as the boat bobs with the tides.

After you, he missed the sea most.

You remember where his boat was parked. Every detail of that night is burned into your mind. Vowing to keep the secret in the beach house, dragging the body over the dock, planning your alibis on his boat.

There haven’t been any developments in the case. Porter’s body is still out there somewhere, your secret lying with him.

Your heart stops when you spot Rafe’s back as he pulls a rope on his parked boat. His hair is buzzed now, his back broader and his arms larger than you remember. You close the distance, almost falling off the dock when you approach his boat because you’re that awestruck.

You’ve dreamt of this moment. You weren’t sure it’d ever come.

He turns, wrapping the rope around the cleat of the boat, squinting under the sun. He breathes a quiet grunt as he tightens the rope, then stands and surveys it.

Something catches the corner of his eye. He looks up. And pure relief washes over his handsome face.

Rafe rushes towards you like you might disappear if he doesn’t reach you fast enough. He jumps off the edge and nearly knocks the wind out of you when he surrounds you in his heavy arms, squeezing you.

Tears prick your eyes, and suddenly, you’re sobbing. From disbelief. From relief. From love.

“I knew it,” he whispers shakily, nuzzled into your neck. “I knew it. I knew it. Fuck.”

Your eyes are shut as he holds you, both of you suspended, bobbing boats creaking around you, gulls crying in the sky.

He finds the strength to pull back, meeting your eyes. Those eyes. They never left his mind. He knew you were out there and he wondered what they were seeing every single day.

You gaze up at him, vision blurred from your tears. Safety. That’s what he feels like to you. Like nothing can hurt you.

“I missed you,” you say in a whisper, but the words can’t possibly represent how painful life has been, how much you’ve been worrying about him.

“Me, too,” he says, cupping your cheek like you might break, like you’re a dream that might slip away. “I can’t believe…”

You nod. You can’t believe much of what’s happening, either.

·········

You’re in Rafe’s arms until the sun goes down, sitting in the hull of his parked boat, not wanting to part for even a second to allow him to drive out into the water. You don’t need to go anywhere. You want to be rooted with him.

You sat here once before, in a past life of a past life, conspiring and coming up with a story to cover up the murder.

“I never forgot what you did when I got arrested,” Rafe says into your ear, your back flush against his chest, the sun an orange sliver on the horizon. “Yelling at that asshole not to hurt me.”

“It was horrible seeing him do that to you,” you murmur, remembering how hard Brading had pushed him against the car to handcuff him. “He eventually gave up, huh? I kept checking the news, but the case went cold?”

“Yeah. He left town,” Rafe tells you. “He had no evidence. We got rid of it all.”

You nod with a long sigh.

“How was it?” you ask.

You don’t have to say it. He knows you’re asking about prison.

“Knowing you were okay kept me through it,” he admits. You turn to meet his pained blue eyes.

“It’s all behind us now,” you say.

He presses his lips against yours, warm and tender and soft, dismissing the cold that’d been sitting in your soul since you were forced to leave.

Epilogue

You’ll always feel the void of the year and a half that you were gone deep in your heart. But as time goes by, it gets smaller and smaller.

You’d planned to stay with one of your friends while you found your footing to get your own place, but Rafe insisted he buy you a condo, saying it’d be the best use of his money.

He hadn’t expected to still have access to his family’s bank account, but his father seemed to see a difference in him after prison.

You see a change in him, too. You mention it to him sometimes, how his temper has completely faded away.

“Still like me, though?” he once asked, half-joking.

“I love you,” you told him. It was the first time you said the word and his heart felt like it was going to burst. He kissed you hard and told you he loved over and over.

Rafe comes over all the time, preparing meals together, making up for lost time.

One night, as he dozes off next to you in your bed, you realize you still don’t regret your crime and if you don’t by now, you never will.

Sometimes you wonder if you should be remorseful for taking a life. But that man was evil and the world is a better place without him. People die, but the past doesn’t, and while you may carry it with you forever, you wouldn’t take it back.

Your eyes slowly trail over Rafe’s face in the dim light, your heart pounding as you think about how you got here, two broken people who found each other on a terrifying night.

It’s all still so crystal clear in your mind. The blood on his face the night it happened. The way he held you when you told him what your real motive was. The tears in his eyes when he reunited with you.

You pull a blanket over him. He’s everything to you now. And like your love, your secret remains between you two, binding you together forever.

(the end)

[moonsgemini]

dress - rafe cameron

summary: she’ll always wish she could enjoy the midsummer’s celebrations instead of working at it, but her secret moments with the kook prince make the bad tips worth it

warnings: rafe x pogue!reader, typical classist stuff but not from rafe, fluff, angst, mutual pining, alcohol, kissing

wc: 3.5k

an: this is based off of dress by taylor swift but my own interpretation of it I guess. If you guys want a pt. 2 with smut let me knoooow, I’m such a s!ut for rafe cameron pleaaaase

our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you

Midsummer was probably her least favorite day of summer. You’d think that being a bartender on the day that the whole figure eight came to the country club would bring in lots of tips right? Well wrong. During midsummer’s the drinks were complimentary and there was just a tip jar for cash tips. Kooks don’t usually carry around cash, or really tip for that matter. Also seeing all the kooks dressed in their pretty dresses and cute flower crowns made y/n go green with jealousy. She desperately wished she could attend as a guest and get to dress up and enjoy the food. Y/n would be dreading this shift if she didn’t have something to look forward to.

She had looked over herself in the mirror a million times, making sure her dress still looked as good on her as it did in the dressing room mirror yesterday. The tag was securely tucked into her side because she may have run up her credit card to be able to afford it so she had to return it after. Bartenders didn’t have as strict as a uniform as the waiters did. Her manager allowing them to wear black dresses for the night, and of course she was going to jump at the opportunity to wear something nicer than her boxy polo uniform and tennis skirt.

Her makeup and hair had been done to the best of her ability, without it seeming like she was trying too hard. Y/n would never admit to any of her friends or family that she was dressed up in order to impress a certain kook prince. The same kook prince she had spent months crushing on, and he never helped make the crush go away because he would shamelessly flirt with her every time he was at the country club. It was more like banter, she had a feeling he never really meant anything he said. But it felt so good to feel wanted.

When Rafe would see her around the outer banks he would smirk at her or give her a nod as to say hi. At parties sometimes he’d go up to her and make some small conversation. Teasing her about what drink she had or making sure that she didn’t give her number to that guy that was flirting with her. They’d be making conversation and she would take a step towards him wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms and his scent. But then her friends would come and think they were saving her from the kook prince and pull her away, sending a glare Rafe’s way. She’s look back at him apologetically and he’d just give her a tight lipped smile and walk to the other side of the party.

Rafe really liked her, he liked making her laugh and smile. He wished he could make her quit her job and just come live with him, he’d take care of her. She’d never have to worry about bills or rent ever again. His friends always made fun of him for flirting with a pogue but he didn’t care. They’d say he was scraping the bottom of the barrel, that he had already gone through all the girls from figure eight so now he was entertaining a pogue. Rafe never let them get away with their jokes. He’d glare at them and punch them in the arm or kick them in the shin. He’d defend her honor saying she’s different and she’s a better friend than they’ll ever be.

All Rafe could do was think about her while he was getting ready. He knew she’d be there and he wanted to look extra nice. Tonight felt like the night he would actually ask her out. Y/n was a good listener, she was always there for him. At first he thought it was just because she was stuck behind the bar so she had to listen to him, but then he’d see her at parties and she still had that look in her eyes. That look that she was listening to him, actually listening to him. He felt like he was on a cloud with the way she looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world.

When she arrived to the country club she started getting all her things ready, the guests would start arriving in a few minutes. Stocking up on scotch and the best wines, she knew those would be the popular drinks tonight. As she worked diligently her mind wandered to Rafe, like it always did.

She wondered if he’d be the same as always despite his family being here. She wanted nothing more than to spend the night with him, but not while she served him drinks. She wanted to dance with him and drink with him, and then go home together at the end of the night.

Guests had started arriving, her eyes looking out for the dirty blonde. She was so excited and a bit anxious to see him all dressed up, knowing he’d look extra handsome. An hour had passed and she still hadn’t seen him. The country club was now filled with kooks and her tip jar only filled with about $20 when she’s certain she’s made twenty martinis and poured just as many scotch’s.

As she was handing Mrs.Weatherby her glass of merlot smiling at the older woman her eyes caught her favorite blue ones. Rafe stood across the room with Kelce and Topper. He wasn’t paying any attention to what Topper was saying as he watching y/n from across the room. When their eyes met a lopsided smile formed on his lips. Her cheeks felt hot as he looked her up and down, as much as he could despite the bar being in the way.

Y/n begged with her eyes for him to come over, to save her from the boring night. He knew her better than she thought as he started walking over, saying something to the guys that he’d be back. But as he was crossing the room his dad stepped in front of him.

Ward put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “Rafe please, don’t start drinking yet. This is supposed to be a nice night okay? Lets take it slow.” He turned him around to walk out toward the patio.

“Yeah sure dad.” He muttered not wanting to make a scene. He followed him out but looked behind him to catch the eyes of the girl he was infatuated with.

His heart sank a little as he saw her bright eyes dull a little with sadness. She tried her best to put on a smile and not show her disappointment but he knew her better than she thought. Ward had no idea of Rafe’s crush and even if he did he probably wouldn’t care. He’d probably be disappointed in his son for liking someone like her, then he’d tell him that she probably only wants him for his trust.

all of this silence & patience, pining & anticipating, my hands are shaking from holding back from you

The first few hours of the night their eyes just met, hers pleading him to come over and talk to her. Give her something to think about tonight before she went to bed. His eyes begged her to forgive him for not giving her the attention she deserved, especially in that dress. He hoped that she wore it just for him, it made her look ethereal. Rafe’s legs ached from trying to stop himself from walking over and kissing her with everything he had.

As the night went on she was always on his mind. He hated this stupid midsummer’s stuff, mostly because he couldn’t share it with the one person he wanted. It was filled with snobby people and teenager’s getting drunk on booze they had snuck in.

Rafe kept getting stuck in conversations with his dad’s colleagues, Ward wanting him to be more involved in the business. Or he’d be with Topper, Kelce, and some other guys having a meaningless conversation about lacrosse or surfing. Whenever he got the chance he’d look over at her and she’d have a smile on her face handing some old dude a drink. He knew it wasn’t her real smile, then her eyes would look over at him and that’s when her real smile would come out.

“Uh I’m gonna get a drink,” Rafe said trying to excuse himself from his friends. His dad would be fine with him having a drink now, it’s been three hours since the night started. Three hours of his fingers tingling with the want of tucking that hair that kept falling in her face behind her ear.

“I’ll go with you dude. I need a refill,” Topper said holding up his empty glass. Rafe held in the urge to roll his eyes, he wanted to go alone.

y/n was wiping down the bar when they approached. She looked up meeting eyes with her favorite boy, but then she looked over to his left and their Topper was

“What can I get you guys?” She asked looking between them, smiling at Rafe.

“Long island,” Topper said placing his empty glass down.

“Can I get a rum and coke please?” Rafe asked, resting his hands on the bar.

“Of course,” she nodded with a grin.

Rafe watched her as she prepared the drinks. Topper was trying to talk to him about who knows what, he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t pay attention even if he wanted to with that dress she had on. It fit her so perfectly, he wondered what it’d feel like under his hands. What it’d feel like to push it up as he touched the expanse of her thighs. Wondered what it’d feel like to hold her waist as he kissed her. If her skin was as soft as it looked.

“Bro you’re not even listening,” Topped said as he hit Rafe’s shoulder.

“Long island,” Y/n places the drink in front of him.

“You’re right I’m not.” Rafe rolled his eyes.

Topper took his drink without even thanking her, “Whatever dude I’m gonna find Sarah.” Finally Rafe was alone with his girl.

She placed his glass in front of him, “So where have you been all night?”

“Uh my dad didn’t want me to drink earlier,” He shrugged. He knew it was a half assed excuse.

“You don’t need to order a drink to come see me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, “I-I know but my dad thought that I was just coming over for a drink.”

She laughed bitterly not at Rafe but at the whole situation, “When I’m with you I forget I’m a uh pogue.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” He reached out to touch her lightly. She leaned into his touch slightly, yearning to feel anything from him.

Her manager walked in, “Y/n, take your fifteen.” Taking over he place behind the bar, Rafe pulled his hand away from her.

“Uh yeah,” She gave him a tight lipped smile before walking to the back room. Rafe sighed and walked back out to where his friends were.

if I get burned at least we were electrified, I’m spilling wine in the bath tub you kiss my face & we’re both drunk

Y/n stood in the back leaning against the wall. She hated this town. She hated the labels everyone put on each other, it made her life so much harder. It was so easy when she was around Rafe even if it was a few minutes at a time. But then there was always something that reminded her of who she was and where she came from. It was either Ward, her friends, Rafe’s friends, her bosses. Someone always had to remind her where she was and who she was.

She rolled her eyes at herself. She walked into the back, in search of a bottle of wine. She found one she thought she’d like, popping it open and pouring herself a glass. Y/n felt like she deserved it, especially after tonight. The night wasn’t going exactly as planned, so she might as well drink.

After three full glasses of red wine her break was over. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to drink while on the clock because now everything looked a little fuzzy.

“I’m back,” She slurred to her manager.

Lisa eyed her suspiciously, “Are you drunk?”

“No never,” She gave her a toothy grin trying to hide her tipsiness. The alcohol affecting her more and more as the seconds passed.

Lisa sighed, “Y/n you can’t be like this here right now. You know how bad this would look. If you get one of these jerk offs orders wrong and they smell that merlot on your breath they’ll have you banned.” Lisa tried her best to look out for the girl because she knew she didn’t have anyone that was looking out for her.

Her eyes watered at the thought of losing the only job she had been able to get on this whole island, “I-I can’t lose this job. I need this.”

Lisa sighed, “Go home. I’ll cover for you, and you can still keep the tips okay? Only because I care about you.”

Y/n sniffled bringing the older woman into a hug, “Thank you Lisa, I owe you.”

“Get home safe okay, call someone.” Lisa said rubbing her back. She walked (stumbled a bit) to the back to grab her bag.

even in my worst times you could see the best of me

Y/n didn’t know who to call, her friends were all at parties probably drinking as well. Her parents weren’t in her life. The one person who could help her had been watching her from across the room. Concern written all over his face. She looked at him with teary eyes and he was already taking long strides towards her. She met him halfway, the tag from her dress itching her side.

“Rafe,” Her voice was shaky as she hugged herself looking for some comfort. She knew this was all her fault, she shouldn’t have had that wine. She felt like she was always making mistakes like this.

Rafe’s hands held her face, “What happened? Did someone do something?” He asked with worry and a bit of anger. If one of these kooks made his girl cry they’d have him to deal with.

“No no I did something. I-I drank some wine on my break. I’m drunk Rafe and Lisa told me to go home. She um she said she’ll let me keep the tips today but uh can you take me h-home?” She asked barely taking a breath.

He brushed her hair back, “Hey breathe, I’ll take you home okay baby.”

“I’m sorry Rafe, I-I shouldn’t take you away. I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. I’m glad I get to get away from this shit, especially if it’s with you.”

Ward had been watching the interaction from outside. He eyed as his son held the bar tender who he felt was trying to hard to look like she fit in with them, her dirty sneakers gave her away. In her defense you can’t really bartend in heels.

He walked over to them before they could leave, “Uh Rafe, what are you doing?” He didn’t spare a glance at the disheveled girl.

Rafe stood up straight, “I’m taking her home dad.”

“Who is this? The bartender? You can’t leave now. There’s still some guys I need to introduce you to.” He treated her like she was nothing.

“No dad I’m taking her home, this is more important.” Rafe wrapped his arm around her shoulders to lead her towards the exit.

Ward grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past him, “Don’t disappoint me son.”

He shrugged his shoulder to get him off, “You’ve made it clear plenty of times that it’s too late for that.”

They didn’t make a big scene but some people had been watching. They watched as the oldest Cameron led the girl outside, a pogue. Tomorrow word would spread all across the island just how cozy they were. Ward would berate Rafe about it but right now he didn’t care, he just wanted to get his girl away from everyone.

Y/n couldn’t believe Rafe had done that for her. He dropped everything for her, she really did feel like he was a prince.

only bought this dress so you could take it off

Rafe kept glancing over at her as he drove to her house. He was worried about her, she looked so sad and he hated seeing her sad. Her head was leaning agains the passenger window just looking out into the darkness.

“Sweetheart what’s wrong?” He finally asked breaking the silence.

She sighed looking over at him, “I feel like an idiot.”

“Why?”

“I put on this stupid dress that I can’t even afford and I got too drunk while I was working. I took you away from the party.” She shook her head at herself.

Rafe pulled into the driveway of her small house, her grandma had left it for her after she passed a few years ago. It was the perfect house for her but now she had to work overtime to keep up with bills.

“Lets talk once we get inside,” Rafe turned the car off and ran over to open her door.

They walked into her house, Rafe had never been there. This is the most time they’ve ever been able to spend alone, without anyone being able to interrupt them or pull them away from each other. He liked her house, it was very her. Warm lighting and pictures everywhere. She sat on the couch setting her bag onto the ground.

“You look amazing, this dress looks amazing on you.” He said as he sat next to her. She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I wore this for you. I wanted to impress you, instead I embarrassed myself.” She closed her eyes thinking about the events of the night.

Rafe turned to her, “I would drop everything for you. I have been dying inside to spend this night with you.”

“Really?” She asked looking at him with stars in her eyes.

“Yes, baby. And this dress does look amazing on you. You look perfect. I’ve wanted you since the first day we met at the club.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.

Her face flushed at the compliments, “But why? I’m just me. I don’t have anything, I can’t even afford this dress. I’m just a bartender.”

He shook his head, “None of that shit matters to me. You actually listen to me and you care about me more than my shithead friends ever have. I only go to those stupid parties to see you.”

“Rafe, I care about you so much.”

He couldn’t take it anymore, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his. They were slightly swollen from the few tears she had shed earlier in the night. Her lips tasted like merlot she had downed. They moved in sync as if they had been doing this forever. He smelt like expensive cologne and she wanted to drown in it, she wanted to drown in him. His lips felt so good against hers, she had been dreaming about this moment for ages.

Her hands slid up his chest and into his hair. Pulling at the dirty blonde locks to encourage him. Rafe’s hands slid up and down her waist. Finally feeling the dress he had thought about all night. As the kiss grew more passionate he grabbed her hips and tugged her towards him. He pulled her to sit on his lap, her legs on either side of him. His fingers slowly slid up her thighs pushing her dress farther up, almost fully around her hips. Y/n’s thighs were just as soft as he imagined. His mind was racing with thoughts of everything he wanted to do to her.

The small whines that left her lips encouraged him to keep going. One hand moving behind her to give her ass a squeeze. He pulled away to press kisses against her neck making goosebumps rise on her skin. Her hands moving back and forth from tugging his hair to pulling at his blazer to get him impossibly closer.

“Baby,” He mumbled against her neck. She just hummed in return, too lost in the feeling of his lips on her. Tasting her like she’s always wanted him to.

“I want to keep going, but I know you’ve drank tonight. I want you to be be a hundred percent sober when I do everything I’ve always dreamed about doing to you,” He said looking up at her. He almost regretted his words and took her right then and there when he saw her swollen lips and hazy lust filled eyes.

She took a deep breath to get herself to focus. Her senses were overloaded on Rafe, “Okay, can you stay? Please?”

He leaned forward giving her another kiss, “Of course, I’ll always stay.”

[sunsetmade]

The Perks of Rafe Cameron

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Having Rafe Cameron as a boyfriend has many different perks or three scenarios about dating Rafe Cameron.

1. Forever Defend and Protect

Rafe strode into the bustling restaurant, his eyes scanning the crowd as he made his way to the bar. He leaned against the counter, letting out a long sigh when he saw he’d have to wait a bit. As he stood there, his gaze shifted out the window, landing on his girlfriend sitting in his truck. Her lips moved and her head swayed to the rhythm of the music, and Rafe couldn’t help but grin, knowing she was singing along to whatever song was playing on the radio.

“Hey, Rafe. How’s it going?” the bartender, Mike, greeted him with a friendly nod. He was another kook, one Rafe had known for a while.

“Hey, Mike, it’s good,” Rafe replied, still watching his girl outside. “Can I get a virgin strawberry daiquiri?” He said it slowly, remembering her order from the last time.

Mike nodded and shifted a little to start pouring the drink. "For your girlfriend, I hope," he said with a chuckle. Rafe’s gaze flicked over to him, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, it's her favorite," he replied, a hint of warmth in his voice as he thought about her.

Mike gave a casual nod, then hesitated. "You’re still with—" He snapped his fingers, as if struggling to recall her name. Rafe’s eyes narrowed, his smile slowly fading. "Yeah, almost 5 months," he interjected, his tone sharpening. Mike clicked his tongue. "That’s a long time. Honestly, I’m surprised."

Rafe clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as Mike continued, pouring the ingredients into a shaker. "You know, 'cause she's so whimsy and whiny," Mike chuckled, oblivious to the tension building in Rafe. It was clear Mike had no idea that Rafe completely disagreed with him.

Mike finished making the drink and slid it over to Rafe. “Hey, Mike?” Rafe said, a wicked smile curling on his lips. Mike glanced up, wiping the cup as he walked over to the counter and stood in front of him. “Yeah, man?”

Before Mike could say another word, Rafe's hand shot out, gripping the back of his head. With a swift motion, he slammed Mike's face down onto the cold marble counter.

The rest of the restaurant fell silent, all eyes turning toward the commotion. His head was now bleeding from multiple different spots and most likely spilt open. Rafe leaned his head down to where Mike's head rested, his voice cold and menacing. “Don’t ever talk about her like that again.”

And just like that, Rafe grabbed the pink drink from the counter and walked out of the restaurant as people rushed over to Mike. Spotting him with her favorite drink, she immediately smiled and waved from the car. Rafe smirked for a moment, almost forgetting the chaos he had just left behind.

2. Loyalty at All Costs

The party raged on, a blur of loud music, laughter, and clinking bottles. People were everywhere—Kooks, Tourons, even a few Pogues mingling in the chaos. The mansion was packed to the brim, the crowd spilling both inside and out. Some were lounging by the pool, others chatting in tight groups

Rafe Cameron sat on the worn out couch his legs spread while he drank a beer. His expression was stiff, his usual blank stare as he listened to Topper and Kelce argue about something meaningless. But he wasn’t really paying attention. His mind was elsewhere, far from the noise and the crowd. While everyone else was lost in the party, Rafe’s thoughts were consumed with his girlfriend, back at her house.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” Rafe asked, his voice softer than usual, tinged with an almost unrecognizable sadness as she ran her fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Rafe. I have to study,” she replied, the words making his heart twist. Rafe’s expression faltered, the usual arrogance and cocky confidence slipping away, leaving behind a rare vulnerability. His gaze softened, eyes dark with something deeper than frustration.

“You know you don’t have to go, right?” she whispered, her hands pausing as she searched his face. He sighed, sitting up and pulling her closer. "I have to, baby," he muttered, his voice carrying that familiar edge, but there was a weight behind it. "If I don’t, Topper and Kelce will—shit, I don’t know—probably burn the place down or something." She gave a soft, sad chuckle, her heart sinking at the realization that he was leaving. "I’ll be back soon," Rafe promised, leaning in and kissing her gently, lingering for a moment before pulling away, his face a mask of quiet determination. “Be careful, Rafe.” She smiled. “Always.” He smirked at her making her heart flip.

That’s what had brought him here. Miserable. Rafe sat on the couch, his eyes scanning the chaotic party around him but not really seeing anything. Normally, she’d be with him—laughing, dancing, maybe even just enjoying the chaos together. But not tonight. Now, he was stuck in this stupid house, surrounded by people he didn’t care about, wishing he were anywhere else, with her. He had no idea why he even bothered to show up.

Rafe sighed, pushing himself off the couch. "I’m going to grab another drink," he muttered to Topper and Kelce, who were still bickering. Topper waved him off dismissively, causing Rafe to roll his eyes. Morons.

He made his way to the kitchen, and, to his surprise, it was empty and quiet—exactly what he needed. He crouched down, opening the small cooler on the floor, and pulled out another beer, standing up with a groan. The atmosphere here felt worlds apart from the chaos in the living room. This was the silence he craved.

Rafe’s moment of calm was shattered when a hand landed on his shoulder. He whipped around, his eyes narrowing as he saw a girl, a good foot shorter than him, staring up at him with wide, doe-like eyes. Without thinking, he took a step back, putting distance between them. The girl smiled at him, a little too sweetly. “You’re Rafe, right?”

His face remained stone cold, though he gave her a brief, polite nod. His girlfriend had told him to be nicer, but he wasn’t sure how much “nicer” he was willing to be right now.

The girl blushed at his response, and Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. “Is there something you need?” he asked, his voice guarded and a bit confused. The girl chuckled and placed her hand back on his bicep, but Rafe stiffened instantly, a cold edge to his demeanor. Without hesitation, he pushed her hand off, his gaze sharp.

Flustered, the girl quickly recovered, her smile a little forced. “I just wanted to say... I’ve had my eye on you for a while now. You’re, like, the hottest guy on the island.” Rafe’s expression didn’t change—his focus unwavering, a hint of annoyance flickering behind his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood for this. All he wanted to do was be with his girlfriend snuggled up against her while she studied.

"Sorry, I have a girlfriend," Rafe said, trying to move past her. But she stepped in front of him, blocking his way, a smirk on her face.

"I know," she replied, her voice dripping with confidence. "But she doesn’t have to know. She’s not here."

Rafe let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his temple, his patience wearing thin. "Listen," he said, his tone colder now, "I have a beautiful amazing girlfriend waiting for me at home. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to leave and go see her. And if I ever see you around her or me again, you won’t like the outcome."

He pushed passed the shocked girl quickly walking out of the house without another word. He hopped in his truck speeding off to the only place he wanted to be.

Rafe quietly unlocked her front door, making sure not to make a sound in case she had already fallen asleep. He moved up the stairs and turned the corner into her room. There she was, sitting on her bed with her hair in a messy bun, books scattered around her. A smile tugged at his lips as he opened the door.

"Hey, baby," he greeted, his voice soft but warm.

Her face instantly lit up. Without a second thought, she jumped into his arms, and Rafe wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

"I missed you so much," he muttered, his voice low.

“Me too," she sighed, her words filled with relief. "I’m so glad you’re back." Rafe pulled away slightly and sat next to her on the bed.

"You won’t believe the night I had," he said, a hint of exasperation in his tone. "Some girl tried to hit on me." She chuckled softly, leaning her head against his shoulder as he spoke. There was no place she’d rather be. And he felt the same.

3. Laughing No Matter What

Surfing with Rafe Cameron was…interesting, to say the least.

The day started off with you and Rafe sitting on the beach, having a, key word- relaxing- day. You were lying on a towel, basking in the warm Outer Banks sun, enjoying the tranquility and working on your tan.

Rafe, however, was sitting nearby in the sand, clearly not sharing your enjoyment. He was pouting, but it wasn’t just the usual boredom, he was experiencing, no—this was the kind of boredom that came with the restless energy of someone who couldn’t sit still for long.

“What’s wrong, Rafe?” I asked, glancing over at him after he let out his 40th frustrated sigh. He turned to look at me, exasperated. “I’m bored out of my mind!” He threw his arms up in the air dramatically, making me laugh. It wasn’t often I saw this side of him—the playful, whiny, and goofy Rafe. I smiled and sat up. “What do you want to do then?” His entire demeanor shifted in an instant, and a confident smirk spread across his face. “Surfing?” he asked, clearly eager for the change of pace.

I matched his smirk. “You’re on, Cameron.” He rolled his eyes, a smirk of his own tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, okay, baby.” We jumped to our feet and raced up the stairs of his house, quickly grabbing our surfboards before rushing back down to the beach.

We waded into the water and started paddling out. “So, what do I get when I win?” Rafe’s voice was full of that confident, challenging tone he always had. I rolled my eyes, sitting up on my board, watching him as he did the same. “The real question is,” I shot back, “what do I get when I win?”

He shot me a smirk, his eyes glinting with that familiar cocky look. "Guess you'll find out soon enough," he said, clearly confident in his chances. I couldn’t help but roll my shoulders, ready to prove him wrong. The waves were picking up, and we both positioned ourselves, the challenge between us hanging in the salty air. "Good luck Rafe!" I smirked, pushing off the water and paddling forward with everything I had.

I paddled forward as the wave developed, it wasn’t a massive wave but it will do. I paddled faster and caught a glimpse of Rafe sitting on his board watching me with a smile . It made my stomach doing a somersault and I momentarily forgot what I was doing.

I stood up on my board, gliding smoothly over the wave. The rush of water and wind made everything else fade away. I focused on the wave, carving through it with ease. As I reached the peak, I saw Rafe watching me from a distance, and it made me push myself even harder. I finished the wave surfing over to where he sat motionless in the water.

"Like what you saw?" I laughed, watching Rafe. He rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Eh, it was decent," he shrugged, clearly unfazed.

"Okay, go ahead, Mr. Hotshot," I teased, grinning.

Rafe cracked his knuckles, his usual cocky confidence shining through, before he swam out to meet the huge wave rising ahead. I paddled to the side, watching him get ready to take it on. As he stood up, the wave crashed down, and in a split second, it wiped him out, sending him tumbling off his board. I gasped, then burst out laughing.

I clung to my board, still gasping for air between bursts of laughter. Rafe swam over to me, his expression already telling me he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he saw the grin I was struggling to hold back.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer, and my laughter burst out. I covered my mouth, trying to quiet myself, but the look Rafe was giving me only made it worse. In an instant, his smirk was back, and with one swift move, he knocked his board into mine, sending me splashing into the water. I squealed, resurfacing to find him laughing uncontrollably. Clinging to his board, I shot him an unimpressed glare. "Baby, you should've seen your face," he chuckled, and I just stared at him, clearly not amused.

“Big talk for a guy who just ate shit on a wave.”

[cameronspecial]

Some People Can Change

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Swearing, Mentions of Drugs and Angst

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Rafe really does want to change, but what happens if nobody else believes he can?

A/N: Rafe isn't a murderer and doesn't hide dead bodies in this one-shot, but everything else he does in Canon happens.

Masterlist

Y/N Y/L/N was only supposed to be a one-night stand. Rafe wasn’t planning on interacting with her after she left his bedroom. He was a Kook and she was a Pogue, who worked as a bartender at the club. However, when he woke up the next morning to the smell of frying bacon and the sound of “Dance The Night” accompanied by her dance moves, he knew she wasn’t really going to be leaving his life after today. Plus, her advice was life-saving. “I think I’m going to do something really bad,” he confessed to her, sitting at the kitchen island with coffee in hand. She looked at him in understanding, “Well, you said going to, which implies it has happened yet. And if it hasn’t happened, then you always have a chance to fix it. It’s up to you to own the fact that you recognize it isn’t good and to stop it.” This led to Rafe stopping the murder of his father that he put into action. 

———

Ever since that day, Rafe is not often seen without his arm around Y/N, looking at her like she is his world. Because she is. He knows she wouldn’t put up with the shit that he pulls on a normal basis, so he made an effort to stop his vices. He is just grateful she is relatively new to town and hasn’t had the chance yet to hear the gossip about him. This means he has a chance to turn his life around before she finds out. But no one in his life actually believes he can change. 

“I told you, Barry. I’m not dealing or using anymore. Not cocaine, not weed. I gotta go cold turkey,” Rafe reiterates, sliding the drugs and gun towards the pogue. “And I certainly don’t need this gun anymore.” Barry shakes his head and pushes the item back toward Rafe, “You really think you are going to last man? You aren’t going to be able to stay away from these just because of her. You can’t change man.” “You’re wrong. Every time I do drugs, I’m making the conscious decision to turn towards them. Y/N is helping me realize that I have other ways of coping with my issues,” he gestures his hand toward his chest to prove himself. “Come on, Country Club. Just take them back.” Rafe grows frustrated with this conversation. Instead of fighting back and yelling at the dealer, he tries to take deep breaths to calm himself. It sort of works, but nobody is perfect. So he storms out of the trailer with the loud clang of the front door closing behind him. 

He gets home from Barry’s storming into the living room with his anger clear on his face. “Love, what’s wrong?” Y/N poses, lowering the volume of the TV. Rafe gives her a harsh look, “WHAT THE F-!” He can’t finish his yelling because Y/N is already gently placing her hand on his sternum to guide his breathing. “I know you are angry about something, right now, but that gives you no right to displace that anger towards me. So if you feel the need to release this negative energy, then I would like for you to channel this feeling through working out, please. I’ll come to see you to talk after half an hour.” Rafe knows that she is correct and she probably got these ideas from a psychology book she bought. God, she’s so smart. 

Rafe heads up to the punching bag in his room and starts throwing punches at it. As promised, she comes to check on him after some time. “Now that we’ve calmed down, do you want to talk about it?” Y/N inquires, bringing his hands into her smaller ones and giving his bruised knuckles a kiss. He nods at her, “Yeah, I just went to give something back to a… uh… a friend and he insisted that I still needed it. It was frustrating.” His subconscious knew the problem was deeper than that and this caused tears to threaten to spill. Rafe is quick to hide his face behind his palms. 

“Somehow I don’t believe that this is the true root of your crying. Do you think you can talk about it?”

“Uhh, no. I don’t think I truly know what I’m feeling. Can we just cuddle and think instead?”

Y/N is happy to oblige, lying down on the bed and opening her arms so he can rest his head on her chest. 

———

“No, Rafe. I have to tell Y/N. She deserves to know,” Sarah argues, making her way back into the house from the back patio. Rafe is quick to follow her. At the same time, Y/N is heading towards the same door from the bathroom. “Tell me what?” Sarah turns towards the girl, ready to tell her about Rafe’s faults. 

“Rafe is a liar and thief and violent and a drug addict. He isn’t a good person, sweetie!” 

“I may not have been a good person and I admit to being everything you’ve said but I’m trying to change. Y/N helped me realize that I need to change.”

“Ooh, like you can change. Honestly, no offense Y/N, but we both know this road to redemption act is all going to go away once you get bored of her.” 

Rafe wants to yell that it isn’t true what Sarah is saying, but he remembers the breathing exercises Y/N taught to help calm down and puts those into practice. He knows adding more anger to this argument is just going to lead toward a slippery slope of words he will regret. 

“You may believe that, but I don’t. So I’m sorry I stole the cross and melted it down. I know that it can’t bring back the artifact for Pope. But I’ve already given the money I got from it to Pope and made a donation with my own money to the church.”

“Well good for you, doing one good thing to not feel guilty and to tell Y/N you are a good person.”

“I know about all of this already. Thank you for wanting to tell me, Sarah, but I already know everything and I would like to get the rest of the information straight from Rafe, now,” Y/N interrupts the argument before it becomes never-ending. Rafe’s palms are pressed into his eyes and she knows he is trying to hide his tears. She does not allow the conversation to continue; instead, brings him upstairs and moves his hands from his face. She wipes the tears away and presses a kiss to his forehead, “You don’t have to hide your tears away from me.”

“Why can’t anyone believe I can change? What if everyone is right?”

“Don’t say that. I believe that maybe not everyone can change, but some people can change. And you are definitely a part of some people.”

“How can you say that about me with everything you’ve known about all this time?”

“Because the Rafe that I was told about would’ve ended that argument with violence. He was violent, rude, a liar, stole and relied on drugs like it was water. The one before me approached that argument with recognition of his wrongdoing. He is working on his anger, is polite, tells me the truth, always pays for me and attends NA. He is one month sober. That is how I know you have changed.”

“Nobody else believes I can.”

“I know, love. I know it hurts. But right now let’s just focus on who does believe. You and Me. Then we can use this belief to prove everyone else wrong.”

“Okay, I can do that. I love you, Y/N/N.”

“ I love you too, love.”

[itneverendshere]

the thought of rafe taking care of his newborn. maybe mama went to shower and she comes out and she hears the baby just hard crying and she checks on them, and rafes covered in spit up and he’s trying to sponge bath her in the kitchen sink softly talking to her

mini version of myself livin' in me - r.c

pairing: pogue!reader x rafe (bartender!reader universe) warnings: none.

the warm spray of water and the scent of lavender swarmed around you like a hug as you stood under the pressure shower.

it had been one of those long days—your baby girl's cries louder than usual, her needs more demanding, and your sleep-deprived body feeling drained.

but the thought of rafe taking care of her while you finally took a moment for yourself brought a giddy smile to your face.

once you were done, you turned off the water, wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, and stepped out, only to still be welcomed by the sound of your daughter’s cries across the house, louder and more urgent.

your heart thudded as you reached the source, feet still damp against the wooden floor.

the sight in the kitchen made you stop.

rafe stood by the sink, his broad back slightly hunched as he leaned over your baby girl.

his shirt was splattered with spit-up, damp spots spreading across his chest and sleeves, a wet dishtowel in hand, and completely focused on autumn.

your baby was in the sink, squirming and red-faced, he cradled her with one arm while using the other to gently sponge her down with a damp cloth.

his hair, usually perfectly messy, stuck to his forehead in damp strands, and there was a smear of baby lotion on his cheek.

autumn's tiny fists waved in the air, her cries coming in shuddering gasps, his thumb tracing delicate circles on her belly, his expression infinitely tender.

“shh, i know. almost done. i promise,” he planted a soft kiss on her forehead before continuing to gently wash her.

she let out another hiccuped wail and his voice continued as a low, soothing hum.

“hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he cooed, running the cloth over her chubby arms. “daddy’s here.”

her cries came in hiccups now, and you watched, heart swelling twice in size, as rafe chuckled to himself despite the chaos around him.

“you’re tough, just like your mama."

you leaned against the doorway, a warm smile spreading across your face. there he was, the man you fell in love with, completely wrapped up in his role as a father, covered in spit-up and unfazed.

he must have sensed your presence, because he turned, his blue eyes lighting up with relief when they met yours.

“hey,” he said, a little sheepishly. “didn’t hear you come in.”

“looks like you two had fun,” you mused, moving closer.

your gaze fell on the little face that looked back at you, blue eyes wide and tear-streaked. the hiccupped sobs had quieted, and her tiny fingers now curled and uncurled, reaching for something familiar.

“yeah,” rafe said with a lopsided smile, running a hand through his hair, leaving it even messier. “but we’re good, right, little lady?” he leaned down and rubbed his nose lightly against hers, eliciting a soft, surprised coo from autumn.

you rested your hand on his damp arm and he shifted slightly so you could see her better.

you stroked her chubby cheek, your fingers tracing the perfect features that were a blend of both of you.

“she’s calmer now,” you said, the tension in your body unwinding as you looked at your husband.

“only because you’re here,” he replied, turning his head to plant a quick, affectionate kiss on your temple. the way his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes made you fall in love all over again.

“you’re soaked,” you laughed, brushing your thumb over the damp splotch on his shoulder.

“hazards of the job,” he said, smirking. “but she’s worth it.”

suddenly, the tiniest sound broke—a quick, unmistakable baby fart.

there was a second of silence as rafe’s eyes widened comically, and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up.

“did she just…” you started, your voice already filled with laughter.

rafe’s expression changed from disbelief to a look of exaggerated dread.

he shot you a pleading look, brows raised. “i don’t even wanna check. please, for the love of all that’s holy, tell me she didn’t shart on my hand again.”

you covered your mouth, failing to stop a giggle from spilling out, and took a step forward to peer at your daughter, who now seemed quite content, eyes wide and bright.

“oh, she definitely did,” you nodded.

he groaned, head tilting back as if appealing to the heavens.

“why me?” he asked, half-joking, half-resigned, though the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement.

“because you’re her dad,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “and she already knows you’re wrapped around her little finger.”

rafe rolled his eyes, looking down at autumn, who gave a soft, innocent coo. “yeah, yeah. you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“she’s definitely yours,” you added, brushing your hand over her growing hair. “she farts just like you.”

his jaw dropped, eyes wide.

“excuse me?” he sputtered, hand on his chest as if you’d just hit him with the worst insult imaginable. “are you serious right now?”

you laughed, the sound coming out so naturally that even your baby seemed to sense the lightheartedness, letting out a warbling giggle of her own.

“i mean, the resemblance is uncanny,” you added, doubling down.

he leaned in closer. “for the record, my farts are silent,” he declared, trying to keep a straight face.

“...if you say so,” you drew out the words with mock skepticism.

rafe’s mouth fell open in playful indignation.

“hey! i barely fart in front of you!” he said, defensiveness in his voice as he pointed at you.

“sure, sweetheart,” you replied, giving him a patronizing pat on the arm. your grin widened when you saw his eyes narrow in faux irritation.

“no, really!” he protested, shaking his head and trying not to smile. “you make me sound like i’m just walking around the house, letting loose left and right.”

you leaned in, your voice low, “rafe, there was that one time on movie night—”

“oh, come on! that was once!” he said, throwing his hands up in exaggerated defeat.

his sudden movement made your daughter wiggle in his arms, and she let out a content gurgle as if agreeing with you.

“see? even she remembers,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

“great. now i’m outnumbered in my own house,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching up.

you pressed another kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin.

“don’t worry, daddy. we still love you, gas and all.”

rafe was already halfway through a shit-eating grin when you rolled your eyes so deep into the back of your skull.

“grow up,” you scoffed, arching an eyebrow. “you don’t have to smirk every time i call you ‘daddy.’”

rafe chuckled, entirely unapologetic, “what? it’s not my fault you say it in that voice!”

“i hope she shits on you again.”

he let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest in feigned betrayal. "wow. cursing me with more spit-up and sharts? you’re cruel.”

autumn let out a loud noise, drawing your attention back to her. she gazed up at rafe with wide, adoring eyes, her tiny fingers wrapping around his thumb.

his voice softened as he looked down at her, completely captivated.

“guess i wouldn’t mind a few more spit-ups,” he confessed, a look of pure love in his eyes.

you smiled as you watched them. “lucky for you, i don’t think she’s done with those anytime soon.”

i cannot confirm or deny if this was also inspired by mads fart video on ig

[zyafics]

PLAY FAKE | 13

MASTERLIST (Series)

Pairing — Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ

Summary — When Rafe needs to secure a girlfriend for his father to see him as a viable candidate for Cameron Development, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

Content — 18+, smut, angst, depictions of jealousy + aggression, emotional turmoil, mild descriptions of violence, and usage of drugs.

"Are you busy?"

The phone call came at the stroke of midnight. Rafe had just gotten away from a lengthy discussion with his father regarding the open properties around Kildare and wanted nothing more than to crash out. But he answered without hesitation when your name flashed across the screen.

"No," he pauses. "Do you need me?"

You do, but you're reluctant to confirm that piece of information. Flattening your lips on the other line, you rub the back of your hand over your tired eyes as a prolonged silence engulfs the call.

But Rafe understands. With a firm I'm coming over, he disconnects the call to pick up his keys.

You've been home for a couple days now, having stayed at Tannyhill for a little over a week. However, with Sarah's return, you felt you'd overstayed your welcome and needed to part ways. Despite Rafe's protests, you insisted, needing to find your own space in the aftermath of everything.

He had hated the way you phrased it. That you needed a place without him.

When he reaches your driveway, Rafe discerns two silhouettes on your porch. Adrenaline spikes, assuming it was Aaron—and that was the reason for your distress call—but upon closer inspection, with the headlights of his car glaring in that direction, the clarity hits.

Maybank and Heyward.

His stomach twists at the realization that he wasn't your first recipient. That you went back to your roots before coming to him. Now, more than ever, Rafe has a bleeding need for some security, to be your first choice.

He doesn't like to be set in the backseat to a pair of Pogues.

Turning off the ignition, Rafe exits the vehicle just as Heyward and Maybank launch from your porch steps with rigid defense. Their eyes narrow at him in suspicion as he stalks up the long pebbled pavement.

"What are you doing here, Rafe?" Pope interrogates in lieu of a greeting.

Rafe scoffs, stuffing his hands into his pocket. "How is that any of your business, Pogue?"

JJ jumps in. "If you're here for Aaron—"

"I'm not," Rafe snaps, not liking any association with the loan shark, before admitting, "She called me."

A moment of suspense punctures the air before JJ disrupts it, shaking his head with disbelief. "Bullshit. Why the fuck would she contact a Kook?"

It's an insult, the way Maybank's lips curled with the title and Rafe huffs. He doesn't owe him any explanation and certainly won't give one. Stepping forward, Rafe attempts to enter your house, only for the two boys to block his path.

"Move," Rafe commands lowly.

Pope tries to meditate. "Look, I don't know what you're doing here, but she's been through some things and we don't want any more problems—"

Rafe doesn't bother listening to whatever else he has to say. He knows. He knows what you've been through and he's here because of it, not to add to it. But the accusation is thick on Pope's tongue, fueling his irritation. He attempts to shove past both of them, only for JJ to push back.

Shouting stirs you awake. That's a lie. You've been staring at the ceiling for the past hour, hoping it'll lull you to sleep, only for the act to be unproductive. When you start to hear sounds coming from outside, you know Rafe arrived.

Pushing past the screen door, you step out onto the porch to witness JJ and Rafe in the middle of a standoff.

Charged words thrown back and forth, you recognize the dark look behind Rafe's gaze as JJ keeps pushing Rafe's chest—one full of deep agitation, seconds away from snapping.

Your stomach flips with nausea.

"Back off, JJ," you announce sharply to the open yard, causing the trio to direct their attention to you. You briefly connect your gaze with Rafe before turning to the younger blond. "I called him."

JJ's hands drop from Rafe's chest, taking a step back, but there's a look of unsteadiness behind his gaze. Confusion spreads across his hard features while his mouth twists into an ugly scowl. "For what?"

"Does it matter?" You refute, avoiding his question. JJ cocks his head, only for you to add, "You can go home now."

JJ frowns, turning to Pope as they exchange a silent debate. When all Pope could give is a casual shrug, knowing it's your decision at the end of the day, JJ turns back to you.

"You could've let us stay," JJ reasons, throwing a harsh glance over his shoulder at Rafe. "What could a Kook do for you?"

"It's fine. He's my…" You trail off, unable to find the right words to label Rafe. Your initial ideas are too compromising. And Rafe doesn't want your relationship to be seen as complicated to the Kook public, since your interactions could circulate back to Ward. But here, in the sanction of The Cut, you know there's no intersection. No need for security. You shake your head with a tired yet reassuring smile. "It's okay. I appreciate you guys' help."

Rafe hates how you didn't say it.

With a heavy sigh, JJ nods. "Alright," he says, clapping his hands and signaling Pope to descend off the porch. They pair off as they head home and, sparing one last glance at Rafe—who's ascending up the short steps to approach you—JJ bids a final farewell. "Call us if you need anything."

Rafe's arm wraps protectively around your waist. "She won't."

You roll your eyes, shoulders relaxing from their rigid stance, as you watch their departing figures. Once they're no longer in view, you take his arm and tug him into your house.

The short stroll to your bedroom is mostly silent and Rafe takes inventory of your home for any disturbance. Since he ordered that cleaning service, your house is significantly cleaner. You had initially refused his charity but he refused to take no for an answer and you ended up with a grade-A cleaning company that polished your home from all the broken debris and dangerous hazards.

But that wasn't the problem.

When Rafe steps into your bedroom, it's an absolute mess. Pillows are skewed across the floor, your sheets wrinkled and tangled upon each other, and piles of your clothes are thrown together into a pile next to your closet. It greatly contrasts the environment outside your door.

"Shit," you mumble, embarrassment flooding through your body. You move from his touch to do some quick cleaning—throwing your pillows back on the bed, picking up dirty clothes, and tossing them into the hamper.

Abashment increases with each of your frantic steps, to the point that Rafe has to grab your elbow to stop you in place. "Hey," he says softly, lifting your gaze to his, "I don't mind."

You don't say anything. Fatigue pours into the very crevices of your bones. But despite the urge to be presentable, Rafe is a comfort. A clutch. And it's getting dangerous seeing how much you lean on him.

It's on the tip of your tongue to push him away. To tell him to go back home. But he beats you to it, glancing at the door.

"Where's your sister?" Rafe asks. "Are they okay?"

"They're fine," you answer, "They're sleeping."

You assumed Amara and Leilani would deal with the same troubles as you, but when you checked up on them, they were out like a light.

Rafe examines you carefully: the way you shift your weight from one leg to the next, the way your hands slightly tremble, and the clear indication of sleep deprivation from the darkened shades ringed around your eyes.

He understands now.

"And you're not?"

Your jaw locks before unwinding. "I'm sorry."

He wants to eradicate that phrase from your vocabulary.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," he argues. "You have a problem and you called me. I'm here to help."

Rafe's words are adamant and warms your chest but guilt presses like glass against your heart. "Were you busy?"

"Doesn't matter."

You frown. But the look in his eyes is genuine and honest. You take a step back to separate from him, needing your own air. As of late, everything you own is his. "I…" You exhale a large breath, voice shaky. "I don't know. I don't know what's wrong."

"Is it because of Aaron?"

You hesitate before nodding once.

"Have you seen him?"

"No, and I think that's the problem." You expel another breath. "I'm on edge all the time. My chest feels heavy and tight and my head hurts." You pause, before choking out. "I'm just so exhausted."

Rafe closes the distance and wraps his strong arms around you as you sink into his chest. You inhale, taking in the faded smell of his cologne.

"I hate this," you mumble, balling the fabric of his shirt into fists. "I hate that I can't sleep. I hate that I'm always stressed. I hate that—" You cut yourself off, not wanting to reveal too much. Swallowing hard, you attempt to salvage your words. "I just hate that I'm like this."

Frustration oozes out of you and Rafe hates to see you in this state. However, he'll admit, having you vulnerable and open is a welcoming change. You're allowing him a chance to see a side of you no one else has the privilege to and he deeply treasures your trust.

He'll do anything to preserve it.

Rafe massages delicate circles into the small of your back, soothing the aches in your bones as you melt into his arms. "It's okay," he reassures with a sweet mumble, "I'm here. What do you need from me?"

"I just want to sleep."

"Then we'll sleep."

"No sex." You withdraw enough for him to meet your solemn gaze, "No touching. I don't want to do anything other than sleep."

"Okay." He agrees slowly, his voice is unsteady because of your accusatory tone.

"I'm serious, Rafe," you proclaim. "I know we like to mess around, but I'm too tired. I don't want to fuck tonight."

Rafe's expression is unreadable, stonewalling his emotions the moment those words slipped from your lips. Did you think he only sees you as a fuck buddy?

"I said okay," he snaps, a little sharper than intended, but you pretend not to acknowledge it. You misunderstand it as him being upset over the celibacy rule imposed tonight, but that wasn't the case.

You swallow hard, not wanting his aggression to roll over into bed. "Rafe," you begin, feeling guilty, "if you don't want to, it's fine—"

"I never said that," he cuts you off, not wanting the implication to be read that he doesn't want you here. He does. It hurts him that you think he sees you as nothing—when that's far from the truth. He just can't seem to say it. "I just..." His jaw tightens. "Let's just go to bed."

Your lips pull together into a thin line, wanting to address the issue, but deciding you cannot handle an argument tonight. Nodding, you separate from him and move to one side of the bed. Rafe does the same.

You thought Rafe would take some precaution to add distance between you but he doesn't. You can feel the overwhelming radiation of his body heat, the indication of his proximity in close range, and it causes your breath to be still.

You can't handle it. You need distance. You need space. It's too intimate otherwise, and you can't afford that.

Pulling yourself to the ledge, with your back facing Rafe, you inhale a deep set of breaths to soothe the tension in your body. To pretend you don't feel the heat of his gaze. "Goodnight."

He doesn't answer at first, before he reciprocates with a night and you close your eyes to sleep.

Rafe watches you. The first few minutes are normal, but as time passes, you can't seem to relax in your position. Twisting and turning, your eyes remain closed throughout. The only sound is the soft breaths escaping you to indicate your sleepy state—or, at least, the closest attempt at it.

His mind still lingers on your earlier words. Do you think he doesn't care about you? Beyond intimacy? Is that why you called Maybank and Heyward first?

Rafe never thought you had an issue with it. That you were perfectly content with the arrangement. But the accusation on your tongue gave a different interpretation. Do you want more? Or, is he driving himself insane with the idea of you being his and only his?

Lost in the spiral of his own thoughts, Rafe didn't even realize that you moved closer. Your back now facing the wall as one of your arms extends outward, draped across his chest.

He freezes. Rafe assumes it's an accident, something you'll retract in a matter of seconds. But when your arm reaches out again, seeking the curve of his neck, he realizes it isn't.

You want him.

Taking it as a sign, Rafe lowers himself to grab the underside of your thigh, pulling your weight onto him. The moment you're in his embrace, chest resting against his, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. And, in return, Rafe nuzzles into the open crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

"No touching, huh?" He mumbles into the softness of your skin as a gentle taunt. But when there's nothing but the sound of shallow breaths and the emptiness of replies, Rafe realizes you truly fell asleep.

You reached for him unconsciously.

His heart races at the implication, before calming to a normal rate, matching the steady guided pace of your own breaths. His grip around your body tightens, squeezing the soft flesh because, at that moment, he doesn't ever want to let you go.

"You need me," Rafe murmurs the confirmation in the column of your throat, hoping the words would sink through. "And I need you too."

—

By morning, you're gone.

It shouldn't come as a surprise. Every time he spends the night, there's a brief hope that the outcome for the morning will be different. That you'll remain in his arms, sleeping soundly. It never happens. And despite the subtle ache in his bones from the weight of your body on top of his all night, it beats the ache in his heart.

Sighing, after washing up, Rafe exits your bedroom to discover you sitting on one of the stools. A leg propped on the flat seat, your chin rests on your kneecap while you're flipping through some old documents.

"Morning," Rafe says, falling into the space next to yours.

"Shit," you swear, nearly jumping out of your own skin, a hand covering your accelerated heart. You hadn't heard him coming. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he apologizes sincerely, his eyes scanning over your refreshed face. "You sleep okay?"

You nod, recalling the memory of this morning. Curled up on his arms, head buried in the curve of his neck, your body pressed against his. At first, you assumed Rafe had pulled you in, but that wasn't possible. He wouldn't go against your directive. It was all you.

The corner of his mouth rises at the recognition dawning on your face. Before he gets the chance to make some comment about your neediness, you cut him off. "Don't," you warn, feeling a rush of heat rising to your cheeks.

"I haven't said anything,"

"I see it on your face,"

He scoffs, but the smile remains. "You're right," he relents, leaning closer, shortening the distance between you until he's right before you. "I was thinking of it."

Your eyes catch him and the teasing glint behind his gaze, causing your breath to shorten. You expel a breath, trying to release some tension in your shoulders, before you clarify, "All we did was sleep."

"Yeah, but you slept on me," his voice drops a full octave, "Admit it, sweetheart, you want me. Why else would you want me here?"

You search his face, trying to figure out what he wants. What he's trying to get out of you. But you find nothing tangible. Refusing to put yourself in another position of vulnerability when Rafe has done nothing to balance the scale, you scale back, adding space. "I just—I needed someone I trust."

You don't acknowledge that his assertion is correct. That the one time you fell asleep peacefully was in his arms. Or, perhaps, it wasn't necessarily about trust but about him. Instead, you pretend it's something else, something vague and general, hoping one day it will.

"Someone," Rafe repeats. "Or me?"

You avoid the question.

And Rafe assumes the former.

Dropping your gaze to the files, the air stiffens into a palpable silence. Your fingers thread through the records, pretending to search for something, when all you can feel is the thumping of your heartbeat in your veins.

Rafe releases a sigh. The elation of his state quickly deflates after your rejection. Again. He doesn't know how much longer he can take before it truly destroys him. Deciding to shift the conversation elsewhere, he asks, "Do you want me to stay again?"

"No, it's fine," you shake your head, dismissing the proposition out of habit. Even though it would bring you peace, the rational side of your brain determines the distance necessary to protect yourself. Becoming too reliant on Rafe would add nothing but pain. "You can go home," you pause, considering how to lighten the mood, "I bet the mattress here sucks in comparison to your one-million thread counts, huh?"

There's a strain to your voice; a telltale sign. Rafe ignores your words and focuses on what he does best: reading your body language. With squared shoulders and an avoidant gaze, he knows your words are far from the truth. You just don't know how to ask for what you want.

So, he proposes a different question.

"But can you sleep?"

You don't answer.

"I'll stay then," he decides, as if he's reading an item off a menu. Before you get a chance to object, Rafe shifts closer, tugging the corner of a document. "What's this?"

Your mouth closes, shoulders slouching from how quickly he changes the topic. It almost makes you smile. Deciding it would be better than fighting it, you explain that you're reviewing your Sailor bank accounts to see what money you can spare without harming the business. However, the issue is that you can't seem to find any gaps.

Rafe's brows furrow together as he listens, asking permission to take a look at your statements himself. His eyes scan through the billing, before asking. "Why don't you sell the business and work elsewhere?"

"You're not funny," you declare, attempting to pull the document away, but his grip remains firm. His eyes are set on yours.

"I'm not joking," he declares. "It could help a lot. I mean, you'll earn more than what you're earning here."

He isn't wrong. At this point in time, you would profit more by working as a bartender than a business owner. But that's not the point.

"Sailor is my family's legacy," you explain, believing his question was not an attack on your qualification but rather from a strictly logical standpoint. "It and my sisters are the most important things in my life."

Rafe hums, and he doesn't add anything else. You don't know if he gets it. "Let me ask you something: why do you want Cameron Development so badly?"

He goes rigid. He's never been asked that question before. Never had to articulate his reasoning. It makes him uncomfortable to be interviewed—especially if it's to you of all people. "I don't know," he declares noncommittally, glancing at his lap, "I always assumed I would get it. I'm the oldest."

You shake your head. Not out of mistrust, but because you know him. Rafe isn't as simple-minded as the rest of Kildare likes to believe. There has to be more. "I don't believe that," you say gently, "Try again."

His expression morphs into a charming smile. A facade to hide. "Do I get something if I talk?"

You roll your eyes. "It's always sex with you, isn't it?"

His smile drops, but you don't pick it up. He shouldn't have said that, but it's too late. Your expression is easygoing and loose, a detachment to your words as if you truly believe and accept that perception of how he views you.

Instead of addressing his feelings, he tries to articulate what he meant before.

"I don't know," Rafe starts again, in a low mumble, his voice more vulnerable than it was moments prior. "Business was the one thing I got. I... I didn't excel in academics and I didn't like sports that much. But with Cameron Development, it was the one thing me and my dad could sit down and talk about and I didn't feel like a big disappointment to him."

He never said those words out loud before, and the confession sounds pathetic, but the way your eyes soften and your head nods along as you listen with no judgment, it gives him the confidence to continue forward.

"I... I get it, you know? The numbers don't scare me and the logic makes sense. It's the one thing I have going for me and to know that my dad is considering giving it to Sarah... It hurts. Like, she has everything and I can't even have the one thing I'm good at."

His voice cracks at the end, and his gaze has since dropped to the floor, hands messing and rubbing the calloused skin of the other.

You reach forward to cup the side of his face, and lift his head, meeting his sensitive gaze. "It isn't fair," you run the pad of your thumb over his cheekbone, trying to soothe the ache of his admission. "It truly isn't. I wish I could make it better for you."

Too gentle. Too loving. In the comfort of your touch, Rafe speaks before he can stop himself. "Sometimes I think if I have you, I'll be fine with the world."

Your breathing stills. Rafe did too. You don't know if you misheard him, or if he's implying something else, but before you can seek clarification, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it." Rafe swiftly pulls away, moving to the exit. His hands clench by his side, teeth grinding, regret coursing through his veins at the mistake of letting his emotions overtake him back there.

He shouldn't have said that.

When he opens the door, without checking the peephole, JJ stands behind it.

"Oh, you're still here," JJ declares with a hint of bewilderment. "Didn't think she kept dogs past noon."

Rafe's already on edge from the previous conversation that he has little patience for the Pogue. Seconds away from slamming the door on Maybank's smug face, you appear by Rafe's side, stopping him and inviting JJ in. He steps into your living room, holding something in his hands.

"What's that?" You point to the crumpled note, before recognizing his nervous stance. JJ's bouncing on the heel of his feet, avoiding your gaze, and when you repeat your question, more firmly this time, he reluctantly holds the note out.

"Someone left this at your bar," JJ explains as you take it. Your eyes quickly scan the message, your heart sinking with every word you read. "It's a warning. If you don't... If you don't pay him back in full tomorrow, he'll do something to your bar."

Rafe's watching your reaction with a hardened look. His eyes keep sliding over to JJ, the Pogue being the messenger of the news—the one you sought help from before—and the blond feels the heat of his stare on him. Consequently, it forces JJ to grab your elbow and pull you off to the side, away from Rafe.

JJ begins. "Look, I know you don't wanna do it, but my dad knows a guy—"

"No."

"He's been through with Aaron before," he whispers back sharply, "It might be the only option you have."

"And get stuck in the same shit I had with Aaron? No," you declare firmly, reading the note again. It does nothing to soothe the heightened nerves in your body. The way panic is ricocheting inside your stomach like a ping-pong ball.

JJ says nothing, the absolute behind your tone quiets him. While you're preoccupied with another read-through, JJ glances back to where Rafe stands.

"I gotta ask," JJ starts again, lowering his voice so only you can hear. You lift your head from the note, meeting his curious gaze, with a raise of your brow. "Rafe? Seriously?"

While you're trying to figure out how to maintain your livelihood, JJ is concerned about your love life.

"Is this really the time and place?"

"I'm serious, what do you see in him?"

"Drop it, JJ."

"I just don't understand," he continues in a whisper, but his volume raises slightly, "I swear, you're a pretty girl. You can do 10x better than him—"

"JJ," you command sternly, all amusement vanishes. "Drop it."

"Fine," he stays, stepping back with both hands partially raised to his collar. He doesn't turn to catch another glimpse at Rafe, but instead, offers the same advice as he did before. "If you need my help, you know where to find me."

Rafe watches as the Pogue leaves, stepping out to your porch and closing the door behind him. But his breath remains ragged. He caught the last bit of JJ's hushed words, and as much as he wanted to be sensible, he didn't like it.

You're different than Rafe, he understands that. You have a support system, a list of other people, and sometimes—as much as he hates to admit—they are better than him. Less volatile. Less emotional.

But it feels like you're pushing him away. Placing him as a last line of defense for all your troubles. The insecure parts of him are roaring—louder than his rational thoughts can ever be—telling him that he's the last choice. The last option.

He can't help but wonder. If Leilani hadn't called him, would you have? Or would it be JJ or Pope?

Rafe rounds the couch to approach you, his hand circles your wrist holding the note. Your head lifts to meet his harsh gaze.

"You don't need his help," he declares gruffly, "I could've done it."

You blink. "What?"

"The note at the bar," he gestures to the crumpled paper in your hands, before dropping his to his side, clenching down to a fist. "I could've taken care of it."

"I... I didn't ask him. He did it himself."

Rafe isn't convinced. "And last night with Maybank and Heyward, that was all them too?"

His tone is sharp and accusatory, leaving you lightheaded as you stare at him. You're still wrapped up around the threatening note, but Rafe is somewhere else. A different topic. Another issue. You can't seem to gauge what type of response you need to have. And in turn, you give him silence.

His anger rises. "Am I just your second choice? Your fucking backup plan because those Pogues don't cut it?"

Your head is spinning, and you attempt to pull away from his grip but he tightens it. "Rafe," you start slowly, your breathing quickens, "What are you talking about?"

Are you being ignorant on purpose? Are you trying to drive him mad? His fury erupts, flooding all his senses.

"Them!" Rafe points to the door, where JJ left moments ago. "Last night. Everything. Did you ask them before you asked me?"

It's starting to catch up. "Are you serious?"

"I told you that we'll figure it out together."

"I—" Your throat burns. You can't believe he's letting his jealousy about your friends come at a perilous stage in your life. Exhaling a sharp breath, you meet his stare head-on. "They appointed themselves to that role. I never asked that of them."

After Pope discovered the break-in, JJ and him formed a pact to take it upon themselves to watch over you while you're home. They traded off shifts, entertaining themselves on the porch where they set up a makeshift couch and hammock to crash. You had tried to convince them you were fine, but they were stubborn. They wouldn't listen. And at the time, you appreciated the extra protection.

But it didn't work. You couldn't sleep. You still needed him.

Does he not get that?

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head with contempt, "You never ask for anything."

"Are you really trying to start a fight right now?"

"Are you making it a fight?"

"They're my friends, Rafe," you emphasize, "I told you that."

"I'm not talking about that."

"Then what is it?"

His jaw is set, resistance churning through his system to shut the fuck up, but he can't hold it in. He finds himself asking, half in plead, half in confession, "What am I?"

You weren't expecting that. Your lips part, but no words follow through. His hard gaze is on you, waiting for an explanation, but you don't answer fast enough. It's killing him. His next words are a shimmering calm, in a deadly whisper, "Do you think I only want you for sex?"

Your heart squeezes in your chest, taking all your air alongside it. You think you lost your ability to speak, but when you do, it comes out small. "Don't you?"

You're turning the question back onto him, and he hates it. He's trying to get the words out of you, to see where he stands, but neither of you is willing to take that step. It reduces him to silence.

You can't believe it. He can ask, but he can't answer. Frustration fills you, searing hot and explosive. You don't stop yourself from saying, "Because last I remember, whenever you had a problem, you came over to fuck." You snap, your emotions rising to a crescendo, "And when I asked you what we are..." You trail off, losing your voice. The sting of his label still hasn't passed.

But he knows what you're referring to.

"That's different."

"How?"

Rafe doesn't speak. All he knows is it's different. He has feelings for you. Before he refused to acknowledge it, now, it's bleeding into everything he touches. Everything he does. He just can't seem to say it.

"That was before."

Your brows pull together, your anger pulsating through your veins. "Before what? Before Aaron broke into my house?"

"No," he declares, his response is a knee-jerk reaction, but it wasn't the right one. Attempting to rectify, Rafe stammers, "Well, yes, but it's just... It's..."

Why can't he fucking tell you?

He's afraid of being first.

"It's pity?" You supply, not bothering to conceal the hurt in your tone. "Everything is just pity?"

"No!" He exclaims, but it isn't right. It still isn't good enough.

"Then what is it?" You demand, trying to get a hold of your emotions. But you're seconds away from screaming, or crying, or both. You rip your hand from Rafe's grip, taking a step back to conserve yourself.

His gaze falls to his empty hands, his emotions choking him. Every attempt at saying the right words causes him to shrink, feeling small, feeling like a child reaching for their parent's love, only to be pushed aside and dismissed. His walls are for protection, but it destroys as much as it save him.

Rafe decides to settle on something easy. "I'm your boyfriend."

"Fake," you correct.

"Does this feel fucking fake to you?"

You reel back. All your anger dissipates. All your resentment, hurt, and frustration disappear once those words leave his lips. And you're left with a burning clarity. Your chest constricts, your heart hammering. But you can't seem to answer him. You want him to say it first. "You tell me."

Rafe can't. It took all of him to admit such a thing.

You watch him with bated breath, but only to be disappointed again. His dark blue eyes are piercing, rich with emotions, but none of them are vocalized. None are honest. You can’t do this. You can’t go through another second of this uncertainty. You’re tunneling towards heartbreaking misery. So, you turn to leave.

But Rafe catches your wrist and pulls you back. His lips slam into yours, knocking the wind from your lungs.

He pours everything into this kiss; all his desperation, vulnerability, and truth. His action demonstrates everything his words can’t. And while you reciprocate with the same passion, reality grounds you, and you draw back, shaking your head. “Rafe—“

He kisses you again. Hoping it’s enough. Begging it to be. He can’t say it. He doesn’t know why he can’t fucking say it. He wants this to be enough.

You push back again, and this time, his arm wraps around your waist, trapping you in his embrace. You’re breathing hard as Rafe stares down at you while you’re looking at his chest.

He says your name. You refuse to look up.

He says it again. More firmly. You don’t acknowledge.

“Sweetheart,” he finally says, softening his words, and you find yourself crying. Tears crowd your waterline as you shake your head, refusing to be persuaded by the sweet sound of your endearment.

“No,” you choke out, slamming a weak fist against his chest. “Let me go. I can’t—I don’t—I’m not doing this.”

You finally tilt your head up to look at him. The way he stares at you with such tenderness. You can’t seem to discern it from pity. “I can’t.” You sob, “If this is how you’re playing me, I can’t keep doing this anymore. You’re breaking my heart.“

Then it finally hits him.

All your resistance. It was never rejection. It was the complete opposite. Coupled with the same fears he had; the same emotions he didn’t know how to express. He’s been so blind to it.

He should’ve known. He should’ve read it the same way he’s been reading everything else.

It finally gave him the confidence nothing else has.

“I fucking love you.”

You are completely still. You think you're hearing him wrong, that this is just a way of your brain deluding you and calming your irrational state of mind, but it's real. Your lips part, breathing shallow, all while you're staring back into Rafe's eyes.

He's afraid. Rafe doesn't trust his own instincts. Everything about you makes him question himself. And while he gained a fleeting moment of courage, he doesn't know if it will follow through. On the off-chance that, despite all this, all the signs he read, he was wrong and it will be rejection.

"Say it back," Rafe whispers in a plea. It's pathetic, but he no longer cares. "Say it back or I'm going to lose my fucking mind."

"You love me?" You breathe in a whisper, unable to move on from this moment. Rafe squeezes his eyes shut, swallowing thickly, before nodding once.

“I think I loved you since I first met you,” he confesses. “I just didn’t know it yet.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

Rafe bristles, “You think I go around telling people I love them?” He declares, studying your expression, trying to gauge your reaction, but it’s hard when he’s blinded by the crippling fear that you don’t feel the same. “You think I do this for anyone?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, “I just don’t want you to say something you don’t mean.”

“I do mean it,” he declares, his voice suddenly dry, as he finds your gaze. “I… I’m sorry for before when I said things I didn’t mean. I don’t want you just for sex, I don’t see you as just a fuck buddy. I’m… I’m in love with you, and it’s fucking difficult to tell you that.”

Your lips purse together, but you still don’t answer him. Don’t confess your own side. Instead, you ask in a meek voice, “Since the beginning?”

He huffs. He can’t believe he’s admitting so much today. Revealing things he swore he’d keep hidden behind a locked box. But when he finds the light returning in your eyes, trying to gauge more of his reaction, read his true meaning, finding comfort in his words, he’ll rip out his own soul to keep it there. “Since the beginning. When you called me out, when you patched me up, when you slapped me—“ That bit makes you let out a small laugh, “I don’t think I was going to meet anyone who challenges and accepts me the way you do.”

You don’t say anything for the next few moments. And they were the longest seconds of his life. Rafe had to speak, “And if it’s just me, if I’m the only person who feels this way, I’ll find a way to be okay with that—“

You cut him off with a kiss.

“I love you,” you breathe into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I love you,” you jump, curving your legs around his hips as Rafe catches you, steadying you with two hands tantalizing skimming the curve of your ass. “Fuck, Rafe, I love you so much.”

His heart fills with your words. Your desperation clinging to each puncture. He grins into the kiss, before he deepens it, tasting you, stealing your air. Everything feels right. Feels good. When Rafe separates to break the kiss, he catches the residue smile on your face and the little daze behind your eyes. He snaps a memory of it and saves it forever.

But, just as it came, it slowly faded away. Reality quickly dawns on you, and your arms tightens around Rafe’s neck, reminders and deadlines creeping up your skin. Your confession comes out small. “I… I’m scared. With Aaron and everything.”

“Sweetheart…”

“I don’t have the money, Rafe,” your eyes connect with his. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Rafe pulls you in, flushed against his chest as your head lays on his shoulders and his hand strokes your hair. It takes a moment for him to process, to remember the world outside of you. But, when he does, he whispers, “I’m going to take care of it,” his voice so low, it almost comes out as a threat. “I’ll take care of you.”

And he will.

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).

TAGLIST FOR PF: @uraesthete / @maybankslover / @trshngyn / @irides-solstice / @groovycass / @emmalandry / @rivaiken / @outlawedmando / @ditzyzombiesblog / @mattyskies / @sunshinepanic / @too-deviant / @rafesgiirl / @vvvhack / @rafestaurusgf / @cami-is-reading / @peachesmilk / @whore4fictionalman / @artemiswinnick / @janediazwindsor / @pandora-rosier1 / @solanathascientst / @itshellie / @grace-sully / @loveyouok / @tayrcse / @mysteris-things / @ella131989 / @starrkissezz / @sanriobuny / @chopshopcheesecake / @fentyxmalik / @fleets-world / @supernaturalwriter / @taylorsmissamericanna / @hehelollmao / @lac0nically / @elysiasshit / @kravitzwhore / @tommysaxes / @ma-yang / @carolinaxvz / @bandsbooks / @sourjoonie / @rafemotherfuckingcameron / @mintforadollar / @ihe4rttwd

Navigation — Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14

[littlxpxtal]

Homemade Dynamite

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

I'll give you my best side, tell you all my best lines

Seeing me rolling, showing someone else love

Dancing with our shoes off

Know I think you're awesome, right?

March

”Here, take this” Sabrina hands me a purple gummie.

”How much are they?” I take it out of her palm and inspect, giving it a quick whiff.

”Like 10mg. You can take two if you want.”

”What if we both take one and a half?’ I ask, reaching for the bag she pulled it out of.

”God I love your brain.” She smiles widely and pops her pink gummie into her mouth. I take a bite it of a green one and pass her the other half.

“How are you feeling about tonight?” She asks, brushing her hair infront of the mirror.

”Well, I need to get out of the house. So I’m feeling pretty good. I just hope Noah isn’t there.” I murmur the last part and she glances over her shoulder at me with a sympathetic look.

”And if he is, we don’t have to stay. Or we can get topper to kick him out.”

I sigh and finish zipping my boots up.

“I’ll be fine. As long as he leaves me alone, there shouldn’t be any problems.”

”And what are you going to do if Rafe is there?” I freeze in place and try to act as nonchalant as possible.

“I don’t know. Say hello I guess” I let out a fake chuckle and start to walk around the room looking for my purse.

“You’re not going to escape to a bathroom with him?”she jokes. I roll my eyes and walk over to the mirror with her, pulling out my lip liner.

“You’re hilarious you know that right?” She smiles brightly back at me and places the brush down.

“Alright, I think im ready.” She declares. I finish applying my lipgloss and turn to her.

”Let’s rage.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“These boots are NOT made for walking in the sand.” I complain to Sab as we walk through the sand to reach the party.

”I swear I thought it was going to be more in the house, since it still kind of chilly, Sorry girl”

As we approach the bonfire and makeshift bar, we run into many familiar faces, including Noah.

I ignore his group of friends, leaving Sab to chat with some girls from our grade to get a drink.

”Is it possible for a gal to get a sugar free vodka red bull” I say, leaning over the bar. Topper, who was bartending for the time being, smiled at me when he heard my voice.

“Y/N!” He yells. “I feel like I haven’t seen you out in a while. “ he reaches over the bar and gives me a makeshift hug. I giggle into his shoulder as he pats my back.

”One sugar free red bull coming up.” He says with a big smile.

“Looks like the pogues have officially set up camp.” I hear Kelce’s voice grumble behind me. I turn and give him a glare. His face goes from annoyed to shocked.

”YN, didn’t know you would be making an appearance.” He gives me a side hug and goes behind the bar with Topper.

“If pogues are here, Y/N is here.” I hear Noah’s voice grovel beside me. I ignore him as Topper hands me my drink. He flashes a look between us, and gives me a look of worry. I shake my head and turn on my heels, walking away without even looking at him.

I walk out to see where the pogues are, and see a small fire a few yards away, closer to the water.

“Hey” I call out. I watch their heads snap around in defense mode, everyone’s stiff until they realize its just me. JJ is the first one to run over.

“No fucking way, the kook princess makes an appearance.” I scoff and accept his embrace.

“Hey loser” I mumble into his shoulder. The rest of the boys join our group hug as the girls giggle from behind.

”WHAT?” Pope shouts out. “We lost the coolest member of our group. Sue us for being excited”

I chuckle at this declaration and give the girls individual hugs.

“I’m still not over being called a kook princess.” I say as I release Sarah.

“At least they’re calling you that and not me. I’m sick of that nickname” She says, placing a soft kiss on my cheek.

“I missed you guys” I say to the group, and they all lift their cups to the sky.

”To Y/N” John B says.

”TO Y/N” they all shout.I giggle into my cup and take a sip.

“So what trouble are we getting into tonight?” I ask, sitting down on a log next to Kie and Cleo.

”Remember when I said we had a plan for those losers that were at the scene of the crime?” Cleo asks me. I shake my head yes and they all snicker around me.

”Well we may or may not have messed with one of their kegs… you see its a simple prank really, but I brought backup use in case.” JJ says, flashing a gun in his waistband. My face holds still and I can hear the fire crackle.

“JJ, you wouldn’t actually use that would you?” I whisper, barely enough that the group can hear me.

“Just for backup, like I said.” He says, with an unreadable face. I shift uncomfortably and look back to Cleo.

”The prank on the keg is funny. I'm excited to see how that goes.” She gives me a smile and clinks her red solo cup against mine.

”Me too girl”

After catching up with the boys, I notice my drink is empty, and the edible is hitting. Hard.

“I need to find Sab and get another drink” I mumble to the group before using Kie’s shoulder as a crutch to stand.

“JJ would you ..” I hear Kie say to JJ. He shoots up and walks over to grab my arm.

”Let’s get you some water little lady.

”’m not little Jay” I grumble. Feeling the weight of the sand i'm standing on, the vibrations through my fingertips and the disgusting taste in my mouth. We make it up to the bar, and a new group of guys, probably sophomores at Kook academy working the bar this time.

“Can we get some water? And a few beers?” He asks. The boys glare at him, but they seem to recognize me enough to still get the water, neither of them addressing JJ, and passing the cup directly to me. He leaves the rest of the beers on the bar, and JJ reaches over dramatically to grab them.

“Thanks” I mumble turning to face JJ.

“Let’s go back to the water eh?” He starts to grab my arm and turn me before I halt and push against his chest.

”Said I wanted to find Sab.” I state, looking him hard in the eyes.

”Alright lets find Sabrina. Where would she be?” He asks, still holding onto my arm.

“With Top” I grumble, trying to take a step and falling into JJ.

”Alright, and where would Topper be?” He asks, holding me upright and looking around nervously. I felt bad. This situation probably looked bad. I was a mess, at the height of the edible, al I wanted was to find my best friend and giggle, but im no fucking help as to where she would be.

“Wait, what if I call her?” I say, pulling out my phone from my jeans.

“Good idea, lets go over here”

he pulls me to a corner of the party that isn’t heavily populated, the phone rings a few times before she finally answers.

”Sab where are you?” I ask frantically.

“Inside…. but we’re with rafe.” She whispers the last part and I grit my teeth.

”Where?” She tells me the room and how to get there, and I drag J by his arm through the crowd of people to reach the room.

“Give me that” I say, ripping one of the cups of beer out of his hands, chugging it as fast as I possibly could before tossing the cup. He stands there, shocked, and in his time of weakness I grab the other, chugging it fast as well. I continue to drag him up the stairs. We were a few feet away from the door before a hiccup escapes my lips and I turn to face JJ. He stops dead in his tracks so he doesn’t run into me.

“Sab is in there, but we gotta be careful, I’m not sure what we’re walking into” that was my best way of telling him rafe was behind the door and was going to absolutely hate seeing us together.

“Is it okay if im going in here with you?” He asks, scratching the back of his head.

”You really give a fuck? You brought a gun anyways” he shrugs his shoulders and follows behind me closely.

”Before we go in, can you promise me you wont use that, unless its extremely necessary. Like life or death?” I beg, holding onto his arm.

”Life or death only.” He promises. I look him dead in the eyes for a moment before turning the doorknob.

When we enter the room,it's filled with smoke, and a bunch of random people that probably knew the owner of this house better than me. What was his name again?

I look around, trying to find Sabrina in the cloud of smoke. I spot her across the room, on Topper’s lap, right next to him is Rafe, leaning over the glass table, snorting a line.

”Right right” Jj says, sighing and giving me a look before I drag him over to the other side of the room.

“Y/N!” Sabrina shrieks before jumping off of Toppers lap to give me a hug.

”Hi mama I was missing you” I exclaim, hugging her back tightly.

“Hi JJ” she says, and he responds back with a head nod.

My eyes trail off to the left of Sabrina to see tha rafe is completely avoiding eye contact with me, rubbing the tip of his nose and lifting his hips up to pull out his phone. I roll my eyes and look back at Sab, leaning into her ear

”It’s hitting.” I say,smiling big and giggling

”Dude me too im fucking fried” she says back into my ear, giggling back

“Why don’t we go play in the water” i say, grabbing onto her wrist. Her eyes widen.

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all fucking night” she shouts, turning to topper.

”We’re going down to the beach. You comin?” She holds out her other hand to him, he exchanges a look with rafe, then topper looks at me, JJ, then back at sabrina

”Yea I’ll come.” He softly states. He taps rafes shoulder and nudges his head at us. I don’t look long enough to see Rafes reaction, I just turn to JJ, as he leads the way back to where we were outside with the pogues.

Once we reach them, I finally turn around to see Sabrina and Topper following right behind, with a fucked up out rafe trailing behind. I could always tell when he was coked out, not because of his pupils, but he stood a certain way. His legs when he walked were a lot more straight, like he was focusing on each step he made. He ran his hands through his hair a lot, which is exactly what he was doing right now.

I was disgusted with both myself and him for knowing what he was like when he was doing coke. I always wondered if he was embarrassed too.

we reach back to the edge of the sand, and I lean over to take my boots off.

”Wait you were serious?” Sab asks, Lookin to topper, her head leaning against his bicep.

”Dead serious” I state. Pulling off my socks before running towards the water.

The cold water against my toes runs a chill up my leg and I squeal out.

“FUCK ITS COLD” I shout back at the group watching me, all the pogues, plus Topper and Rafe.

“Could’ve told you that!” Sarah exclaims, leaning down to touch the water with her hands. I walk further down into the water, getting my jeans wet. I couldn’t help myself from venturing down enough to my calves. I needed the feeling to wake me up. Before, I could feel myself getting hazy, but this was waking me up.

“Alright y/n, I think that’s enough” Kie calls out,walking into the water. I could tell she was shocked by the cold at the way her body tensed.

”You guys are so boring” I mumble before turning back to the open water one last time. I took in a deep breath, and turned back, walking back into the sand.

“Let’s go back to the fire” Sarah says, holding onto my shoulder. We get back to the fire and I noticed that topper and rafe still stayed with us,

I look across and see rafe, his face hard and cold.

I furrow my brows and take my phone out to see that I had a missed text from him

The fuck are you dragging JJ around like that for?

and now you’re about to drown in that fuck ass ice cold water.

I roll my eyes and text him back

not like you would’ve saved me anyways

I look back up to see him, his face still the same. Before I could read the rest of his demeanor, I hear topper raise his voice. Rafe and I break eye contact to look over to see Topper smack the red solo cup out of JJ’s hand.

“Oh no” Cleo hissed, backing up.

“Fuck did you say to me you dirty fucking Pogue?” Topper seethed. JJ had a sly smirk on his face, and I watched his hands raise. Fuck.

He shoves Topper, and all hell breaks loose. Multiple punches are thrown between the two, JJ trying to knock Topper off his feet. Rafe starts running towards them and I scream out

”DON’T” he whips his head back and looks at me with a pleading face.

“Don’t” I whispered. My pleas were ignored when John B started punching Topper, which made the fight unfair. It was only right that Rafe joined. I knew the rules of the jungle far too well. It would be all downhill from here. The boys keep shouting profanities at each other, as we stand in a circle watching and pleading them to stop. The closer we get, the deeper into the water they go. Before I know it, John b slips and falls, his head dunking under water. I scream out and run to the edge. My head felt light and my vision blurred. I couldn’t tell what was happening, it was so dark, the waves were crashing, and I was fucked up.

Before he could keep his head above water for more than a few breaths, a figure dunked his head under again, holding it down with force.

”WHAT THE FUCK STOP IT HE CANT BREATHE” I screamed, a pair of arms holding me back. I didnt know who it was, but they dragged me back for enough that my feet were no longer touching the water, just wet sand.

“STOP IT. STOP IT.” I heard Sarah screaming. I think at this point I was on the verge of blacking out. The rest of the next few events came in a blur.

“Somebody do something” I half whispered and half screamed.

I watch another male figure stand behind the man with a dark object in his hands. There’s a click, and he points it at the man who was still holding John B underwater. It had to be JJ. I feel tears streaming down my face and I can barely breathe.

“Yo HES GOT A GUN”someone from the crowd hollers out. a cry escapes my lips as I lunge forward, still being held back by a stranger.

“JJ! Kiara screams out. I recognize her voice, but don’t see where it came from. My legs wobble and I struggle to keep myself up. I was terrified John B was going to die and someone was going to get shot.

“Yeah YOU KNOW WHAT THAT IS” I hear JJ shout.

“JJ PLEASE” I cry out, my voice hoarse.

“What’s that princess?” He calls back. I’m taken aback and try to run after him again, slightly getting out of the strong grip against me, before I see Sarah running over to them.

”SARAH NO” Kie and I shout in unison.

I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Every breath felt like an eternity. I couldn’t imagine how John B felt, his arms were still flailing. God I hope that’s not rafe.

The person that JJ was holding a gun to raised his arms in defeat, and John B lifted his head up gasping for air. The pair of arms finally let me go as we all ran after to make sure he was okay. Before we could reach him though, JJ turns around and raises the gun in the air.

“OKAY EVERYONE LISTEN UP. GET THE HELL. OFF MY SIDE OF THE ISLAND.”

The last thing I remember are gun shots going off.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: @ltristessedureratoujours @davinashifts333 @tomholland792

[cambankromyy]

TRUE COLORS (02): sofia? - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

an; hi guysss!! ik ch. 1 and ch.2 kind of have been lacking smau stuff but i promise theres way more in the coming chapters. sorry, and hope you enjoy!

synopsis;

Yn Thornton is Topper's little sister and the Cameron siblings' best friend. Growing up, She, Topper, Sarah, and Rafe were like royalty on Figure 8, but the pressure of being at the top of the kook hierarchy left her feeling trapped. While sarah and yn broke free, embracing life with the Pogues, Rafe stayed behind, burdened by his fathers expectations. As she found freedom outside the kook world, Rafe spiraled, torn between the life he hated and his need to hold on to her- the one person who truly understood him.

chapter overview;

A quiet night at the country club has Y/N reflecting on the change in their hangouts, now more relaxed than the wild parties of the past. When she sees Rafe talking to Sofia, it stirs something in her, leaving her unsure if it’s jealousy or just a mix of emotions. After some light teasing and a casual walk home with Rafe, the night ends with lingering thoughts and a sense that there’s more beneath the surface.

The smaller Kook gatherings had become routine now, a far cry from the wild parties of summer. You leaned back in your chair, the ocean’s sound blending with quiet conversation. The night was barely a party, but that’s what you liked. You preferred any hangout where the goal was just to have fun, not impress anyone.

earlier that day:

Word got around there was a party at yours the last time you'd tried to host something with just your friends. One too many uninvited people showed up thinking it was a party, so your group had resorted to the country club.

You liked it. Brooks' parents owned the place, which meant a pretty much guarantee we'd be able to use the place; even after hours, and you didn't have to worry about non-members showing up uninvited. Though you really liked the hangouts with just the core four.

You all ordered the usual round of drinks, sprawled out across the private room attached to the bar. This had been your usual place; with a porch and a area excluded from all the other country club members, it was perfect for outings.

Across the deck, Rafe sat at the bar counter, talking to one of the bartenders. He made the girl across the counter laugh with his jokes, as he smoothly carried the conversation. He wasn’t wearing the smirk everyone seemed to associate with him, and you found yourself smiling. You were happy for him, you hadn't seen him this relaxed since... god knows when.

It made your mind drift to the wild parties you, Rafe, Topper, and Sarah would throw at Tannyhill or your house when all of our parents were out of town —when it was about letting go, relaxing, having fun. all of it.

The first one you hosted wasn't planned on a whim, oh no. You four had been planning the party for weeks, and the whole school knew about it; no supervision, no rules, and no cops.

It wasn't like the previous kook parties you'd been to, where whoever hosting was doing it for the need to be seen. Rafe and Topper didn’t need to prove anything; they already had power, status, and control. It was about reminding, and that made all the difference.

They wanted to be seen by you, validated by the attention you gave, and the countless instagram posts posted the day after reflected that.

You, Sarah, Topper, and Rafe would appear in these posts as if you were best friends with them, like they hoped these pictures would make their “friendship” last longer than the party. The four of you thought it was hilarious, how these people were begging to be seen by you just the night before.

Over time, the four of you stopped hosting, letting others take over. This gave you an escape. You could show up, have fun, and leave when it was too much.

“Ew, why is he talking to Sofia?” Ruthie’s voice snapping you back to reality as she dropped into the seat beside you, holding a white claw in one hand.

“Who’s sofia?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

“The Pogue that’s working the counter,” Ruthie said, snorting. “Seriously, it’s weird.”

You glanced back at Rafe, who was still lost in his conversation. “How is that weird?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow. “He’s just having a conversation.”

“just having a conversation?” Ruthie repeated, chuckling. “That’s not really his thing.” She laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. “You know Rafe. He’s probably just trying to hook up with her or convincing her to make a drink for him.”

You didn’t laugh. You wanted to tell Ruthie she was wrong, that Rafe wasn’t the guy they all made him out to be, but you knew it wasn’t worth it. Rafe had let everyone believe he was that guy for so long that no one questioned it anymore.

Instead, you just said, “Maybe he’s just being nice.”

Ruthie gave you a look, one that said you’d gone too far into sentimental territory for her liking. “Yeah, sure,” she said, taking a sip of her white claw. “Or maybe he’s just horny.”

Some time had passed, and you were getting ready to leave as you get a notification from sarah. You looked up at her, sitting across the room from you. She opened her eyes wide, telling you to check her phone; though you weren’t sure why she didn’t just come up and talk to you.

She just didn’t wanna let the others know. It was just the four of you again, and you felt comforted knowing sarah set aside time for just that.

You waited around for a bit, but quickly started to get worried as the time passed. The last of the group decided to leave, as one of them asked if you would come with. You declined, pulling out your phone to text rafe.

You found Rafe leaning against the railing by the beach, his eyes fixed on the horizon. You joined him without a word, the night air cool as the sound of the ocean mixed with the quiet of the world around you. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of teasing and light jokes, but your mind kept drifting back to the function earlier.

You’d seen him talking to Sofia, laughing like it was the most natural thing in the world. Part of you couldn’t decide if you were jealous or just didn’t want to ruin it for him. He was allowed to have his fun, right? You weren’t sure if it was your own insecurities or something else that made you feel a little unsettled, but you didn’t say anything about it.

Eventually, you both started walking back to Tannyhill, but when you reached the turnoff for your house, you hesitated.

“Think I’m gonna head home,” you said, pointing toward your street.

Rafe gave a small nod. “Yeah, me too.”

It felt like the right decision, no need to push things further. You reached your front door, pausing only to exchange a casual “later” before heading inside, your thoughts still lingering on the night.

eek!! ch.2!!!!!!!! taglist below the cut; lmk if u wanna be added!

tags; @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera

[maybankslover]

get him back!- rafe cameron

rafe cameron x pogue!reader

warnings: just something fun to write. rafe it's not a psycho, not really on the obx plot line. break up, make up, alussions to sex.

summary: she's getting him back

playlist: get him back by olivia rodrigo

requested

video inspo + outfit

rafe didn't know why he agreed with topper and kelce to go to a bar that was almost in the cut. kelce mentioned something about some girl doing a gig tonight and that it could be fun, finally getting bored of the country club until they heard the name of who was singing there. rafe almost fainted at the face on the stage being announced by the bartender. "y/n l/n, enjoy people!" his former girlfriend of three years. a pogue through and through but at the end of the day the girl he still considered the love of his life even after being separated for the past four months. she sang two taylor swift's songs, one of louis tomlinson and one of sabrina carpenter. all the bar clapping after every single song.

"did you know she could sing like that?" topper asked him.

"are upu an idiot? we were together for three years of course I knew you dumbass." rafe hitted the back of his head.

"hello everyone! my name is y/n l/n I hope you're having a good night here with me tonight. the next song is one of my recent works I hope you like it. this is 'get him back!'. hit it danny!" the drums started first.

"oh shit guys look who is here." john b said pointing to rafe a few tables ahead.

"oh fuck him, what's he doing here?" kiata chimed in.

"who knows?" jj replied and y/n's voice interrupted.

"he argued with me about everything, he had an ego and a temper and wandering eye. he said he's six-foot-two and I'm like. dude, nice try."

rafe couldn't shift his eyes from her. her body language as if she was trying to be ironic at every line she sang.

"another song, another club, another bar, another dance." the pogues looked from y/n to rafe for the entire song, while Sarah's attention only was on filming her.

"so I miss him some nights when I'm feeling depressed." it gave him so hope knowing she kinda missed him too, just like he did since the day they broke up.

"do I love him? do I hate him? I guess it's up and down." she paced around the small stage. "I wanna get him back! I wanna make him really jealous (just like he made me feel) wanna make him feel back."

topper and kelce were just frozen, kinda regretting their plans for the night as they saw rafe's nuckles starting to turn red.

she jumped from the stage and got on top of the counter of the bar, taking down a shot of tequila earnigh a few whistles from the people and the shouts of her friends hipping her up.

"oh I wanna get him back." she jumped around the counter. "cause then again, I really miss him and it makes me real sad." y/n jumped once again but landing in the stage this time, getting really close to the guitarrist making rafe's blood boil with jealousy. she was getting even and he didn't realized yet that she was aware of his presence.

"cause I miss the way he kisses and the way he grabbed my ass." she turned around and spanked her ass before jumping around the stage again.

"I wanna key his car, I wanna make him lunch, I wanna break his heart and be the one to stich him back." she jumped up to the counter once again.

"he's gonna love me and hate me at the same time." she smiled winking at him. "I got him really good." the entire bar standing up to clap.

"thank you everyone and let's say a big thank you to my ex who's right here for breaking my heart and inspiring this song!"

"oh god." jj and pope laughed out loud.

"get him back girl!" cleo shouted at her.

y/n went straight to her friends to cheer and right before leaving, rafe grabbed her waist to withdraw her from her friends.

"what the hell are you doing cameron?" she turned her body to face him. "didn't like it rafey?" a smirk in her face at his mad expression.

"playing with fire there pretty girl, you know that." he gripped her waist and got her flat to his body.

"but I guess it did turned you on." she got a hand through his hair while feeling his hard on her stomach.

"here we go again, she's leaving with him." sarah rolled her eyes.

"they are like magnets that can't be kept apart." kiara said.

"alright let's get going I don't want to see them making out." pope said and the rest agreed making their way out of the bar, seeing topper and kelce leaving too.

"you always turn me on." he connected their lips. y/n got her tongue in his mouth fighting for dominance. he moaned into her mouth before she broke it off.

"if you don't take me home right now. I'm going to kill you rafael cameron." it was all she needed to say for him to pick her up and throw her on his shoulder leaving the bar.

[vodkababy]

love story . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁💐

౨ৎ inspired with the song love story by indila !!

౨ৎ s1! rafe x fem! pogue! reader

౨ৎ angst, mentions of drugs, drinking, & fluff

౨ৎ takes place in midsummers - rafey baby so handsome there

you met him at that state he was - relying on barry and his coke to calm his senses down. soon along, you became friends. he was your rock, and you were his.

of course - his sister, sarah had seen the unmistaken look in her troubled brother’s eyes, of which ones were dilated & jittery by the euphoria had turned serene and much more.. adoring?

no. that didn’t sound like the big bad rafe everyone knew and had on their books.

he had changed - because of a stupid girl. a stupid pogue. surely, he wouldn’t let that affect his family’s name! but god, he was wrong.

he’d grown fond of you, come to think of it - you weren’t like “your people” as he said it. he’d seen her as a sweet and caring person— something he lacked in his life.

so as you and him exchanged glances at the country club— you were a bartender, just serving him a glass of wine— you couldn’t help but be drawn to the man who sat across you in that little taupe barstool.

“i haven’t seen you here,” the blue eyed boy stared at you up and down.

“i just started a couple days ago.” she replied softly.

it only started like that. what could possibly go wrong?

it wasn’t until 10 months into it. midsummers was nearing— rafe had invited you to be his plus one. he was shy- a little bit jittery- and he handed you a flower.

“for me?” she said in awe, looking at the peony he had gotten her.

“yes you.” rafe had replied— coldly. he didn’t want to come off like a pussy, as his friends top and kelce called him for being too shy.

apart from you being a pogue, he had no issues. you were the first one he didn’t get into bad terms with, which surprisingly shocked you. —and shocked him too. he didn’t expect to fall hard, head over heels for you.

that led to him, on the following night of the next friday—waiting.

you had doubts, being a pogue in an all-kook annual party, you had your dress ready, hair done, but what else was there to it? you couldn’t do it. you couldn’t bring yourself to walk to your car to drive to figure 8. you couldn’t let yourself ruin the cameron name. you would never make an attempt to embarrass your lover. you were just a bartender— not some silverspoon-born girl.

he had a rose in his hand, constantly pacing across the room, his hand running through his hair, pushing it back. he felt himself getting hot, the camerons were about to come out, so where were you?

surely— you wouldn’t blow him off; he thought.

was he crazy? he kept checking his phone, looking at your contact. he checked your photos on his phone gallery, trying to calm himself down.

“rafe!” rose, his step-mother calls, telling him they have to go out of the door since the party’s starting. he runs a hand through his hair, and tries to breathe calmly.

the whole party, he had expected you to be with him. he had expected your hand in his, your arm linked with his, and your head on his shoulder. but where were you to be found?

he quickly typed on your contact;

—where are you sent 7:22

you immediately see the notification pop up, you were crying, you couldn’t bring yourself to text him back. you were breaking his heart and yours too.

it had been minutes since he sent that. no text backs?

—y/n sent 7:31

—why aren’t you here?? sent 7:32

—i thought you were coming w me sent 7:32

—i even bought you a damn dress sent 7:32

—y/n answer right fucking now sent 7:34

that was all it took to piss rafe off. you were blowing him off? he was furious— almost crushed a glass on how hard he was gripping it.

the whole night, he couldn’t sleep. what were you doing? all he could think of was you. does she even like me? does she still care? he sees you everywhere.

the next day, he checked his phone. no reply. he decided to drive to the country club in which— you were working at.

he was surprised to hear you didn’t come in this morning, supposedly calling in sick. lies. he thought. he knew you had a brain on you, and that you were quite smart in times like these. but right now, it wasn’t helping.

for the past week—he had been driving to the country club everyday, checking on you. which was not left unnoticed by ward.

“the fuck is on my credit card bills, boy? all from the country club?” ward asked rafe furiously.

“it’s just drinks.” rafe answered defensively, not wanting to talk to his dad anymore.

“put it on your card! not mine. you have your own card for that—“

“look, dad— the money—“

“what about the goddamn money!? you out of cash, rafe? see. this is what happens if you don’t bother to be responsible, to think! you don’t think, rafe! and to say i was the one who raised you.. god.” ward answered hastily, leaving the room with him massaging his own temples.

rafe was outraged. this whole week had turned for the worse, you were supposed to be there for him. but where were you?

his frustration brought him back to his worst behaviors. he spent his days at barry’s. snorting the white lines of fine powder.

“country club. what’s gotten you all knees for the c dust?”

“hard week, barry. don’t remind me.” rafe answered angrily, just wanting to get over it.

“i hear you haven’t been seein’ your girl, huh?”

“—so what!?”

“chill, chill, you’re actin’ out. she’s a pogue.”

“i haven’t seen her in a goddamn week. i don’t fuckin’ care if she’s one. she’s everything i think of, fuck.”

and that led to him, driving to your house at the cut. hearing a knock on your door, your mom calls you to open it while she was in the kitchen.

“rafe—“ she spoke softly, until she got cut off by his lips on hers. he smelled of beer. had he been drinking?

worried, she pulled him up to her room secretly. looking around to see if anyone was near them or could hear.

“have you been drinking?” she asked sadly. what had she done? all of that because of her? only a lazy nod was what she got from him, quickly laying him down on her bed.

“i’m sorry rafe.”

“what happened y/n? i thought you were gonna come and you’d be my date— i even bought you a fucking dress. a goddamn dress because i wanted you to look gorgeous that night. and what do i get? a dead rose and an absent woman—“

“i’m so sorry, please i promise you i am-“

“promise me.. everything’s alright between us baby.” rafe spoke softly with a drawl, grabbing your hand and intertwining it with yours as he stared at the ceiling. the lights were off and his only source was the one coming from the moon out the window, that cascaded your features.

“i do,” she replied with her voice slightly breaking. she leant down to hug him tight. she felt so sorry for him.

“i just- i dream of you. i- i fucking want you with me y/n, baby, stay with me, but i don’t- i don’t know how to love..” “fuck. i’m such a mess. dad’s on my ass again about the money- then you go fucking vague!”

“rafe, rafe, i’m so-“

“no, stop! just please- stop saying that.”

“i didn’t want- i couldn’t go anymore. i’m not rich, rafe. i’m not a kook for crying out loud! i just- i just didn’t wanna embarrass you,“

“no, baby, don’t say that,” he said, wrapping her lips in his.

“i’ll give you everything. i’ll give you gold if you don’t care, i’ll wait for you, i don’t give a fuck if you’ll ignore me- i’d even kill for you, baby.” rafe muttered.

she only looks at him with tears in her eyes, him wrapping his arms around her, wiping her tears away and kissing her.

“don’t fuckin’ pull shit like that on me again, mkay?” he hummed against her lips aggressively, pulling away.

“i’m sorry,” she sighed, feeling a tear stab my eye. “i just—didn’t want to try to fit in to be someone i’m not.” “i’m so sorry rafe,” she softly sobbed in his arms.

“shh, shh, it’s just you and me baby, i love you.” he whispered, rubbing your back.

“—i love you too.” she replied. nobody would possibly believe it but, love makes a fool of the kook king

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ 💐 ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ .

by drewsprettygirl 𝜗𝜚