#rafe chapter

[itneverendshere]

I've had thots about Toppers girlfriend with Rafe and his wandering hands and yall are so turned on you both can't stop touching one another you're practically dry humping in front of everyone (ya know the whole hiding in plain sight)

i did something bad - r.c (18+)

warnings: rafe cameron x kook!reader; cheating; boyfriend!topper (not really lmao poor thing); public sex?; dry humping; mentions of alcohol and drugs; possessive!rafe; almost having sex in the middle of a party I guess;

You don’t even know how the hell this happened.

How you ended up right here, right now, with him. You don’t know where to put your hands, your eyes, or your thoughts. You’re lost. Completely speechless.

Yet somehow, there's nowhere you’d rather be than sitting here, pressed against Rafe Cameron's thighs. And yeah, you're dating his best friend. And yeah, as if you’re not in the middle of a roaring party, filled to the brim, at Topper’s house.

He brushes his thumb over your hip, cautious, like he’s testing the waters. “You good?”

All you can manage is a weak, “Yeah.”

“Look at me.”

Oh god.

Of course, Rafe would catch every little thing you do. Probably been watching you the whole night. Your heart stutters when your eyes lock with his.

That hand on your hip grows bolder, fingers tracing your skin in slow, teasing circles. If you died right now, you’d die happy. And maybe, just maybe, your biggest turn-on is feeling understood. Feeling seen. Rafe does that for you. Topper? Not so much.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention all night,” he murmurs.

You exhale, trying to sound casual. “Really?”

This thing between you two — it’s like a storm you can't escape from. No matter how hard you try. But in moments like this, you can’t run. It pulls you in.

“’Been trying to get your attention all night, you know that?”

You are just about able to breathe out a quiet, “Really?

This attraction between you two is everything you’ve ever needed and wanted, and yet in moments like these, you panic all the same.

You know it’s safer to run from him than to run to him like you always seem to do, but the truth is, you can’t stop. Your steady composure evaporates around him.

Rafe nods, utter confidence in the gesture. Not that you’d expect any less from the kook king himself, he always knew what he thought and felt, and wasn’t afraid to let people know. He owns every single bit of himself.

Unlike you.

“Why are you surprised, flower?” he murmurs, “You know I only got eyes for you.”

You stare back at him, mouth dry and head empty. You want to call him out on his bullshit, put the truth on a silver platter, and hand it to him, but you’d be a hypocrite. How can you tell him you hate seeing him with other people when you’ve got a boyfriend yourself? His best friend. You’ve got no moral high ground here.

So you just nod. Close your eyes, block out the world, and pretend this is fine. Pretend you’re anywhere else but here.

“Is that so?”

He's now grasping both your hips, “Don’t look at me like that. You know I mean it.”

A thrill shoots through you. His touch is scorching your skin, “Not doing anything.”

But fuck, this feels like everything. Cheating on a relationship is a distraction, a self-delusional addiction. This will end in a breakup or breakdown... or worse. You haven’t crossed that line, not physically at least. Not yet. But you feel like you are about to.

“Trust me, you’re doing just enough.”

The way he says it, like it's the easiest thing in the world to want you this bad, makes your pulse quicken. You’re crazy. His lips are so pretty, just the thought of them has you dizzy. Of course, your blush is a dead giveaway.

“Where’s your date?”

“Don’t know,” one hand moves down, “Don’t care.”

“You should.”

His lips twitch, fingers skirting down, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His eyebrows rise, eyes flickering over the room curiously.

“Where’s your boyfriend, flower?” He all but purrs in your ear. Your face is most definitely on fire. 

He stares at you, and you simply stare back. The tension that clouds the air is almost too much. 

“Outside.”

“Now, what would he think if he walked in here and saw you in my lap?” Rafe’s voice is raspy, “Hmm?”

Every bit of confidence you had is nowhere to be found. He always knows how to play your strings. It’s twisted, but the thought only makes you want Rafe more.

“You think about that?” You ask breathlessly, and the hard outline of his cock through his jeans is confirmation enough. You should shove him away. You should feel guilty. But instead, you press yourself against him, his thigh between yours, your brain already melting at the feeling.

“You are really trying to make me fuck you right here, aren’t you?” His voice is lethal, he all but groans, leaning down and sinking his teeth into the side of your neck, just above your pulse, “I’m trying to be good, flower.”

“You’re not good, Rafe Cameron.”

The solid press of his body on yours is all too much. His lips on your neck are everything you’ve fantasized about and more.

“I could be,” Those blue eyes fill with mischief, “For you, I would.”

Your stomach drops and you shove him off, ignoring your flushed cheeks. But then he grins, that shit-eating, sarcastic grin of his, and your glare pierces through him, attempting to keep some space between you.

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“You think I can’t be good?”

“I don’t think,” Your reply is mockingly sweet, and for once he doesn’t smirk, in fact, his grin is half-hearted now, “I know for a fact, you can’t.”

“Right,” His hand works its way from your cleavage, down to your stomach where he lingers for some time, “Good thing you’re dating a good guy, yeah?”

The urge to touch, to be inside you is overwhelming. He’s never felt so desperate to feel someone. The laugh that escapes you is almost bitter, and he knows it. He knows he’s got you. And the worst part? You’re letting him.

“Yeah, good thing,” You breathe, body pressing into his.  Your heart thumps wildly between your ribs and you know you’re going straight to hell.

“Do you want me?” he whispers, arm snaking around your waist to bring you even closer. Again.

“Please.”

In one swift movement, he pulls you down to the couch he’s sitting on. He supports your body with one hand under your upper thigh, whilst his free hand cups the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your hair. The way you situate yourself on his thigh so quickly is too natural, and he does give a little condescending laugh.

There are people everywhere. The party rages on. But it’s like the world has shrunk to just you and him.

You stare into each other’s eyes, panting shakily – lips inching closer and closer together. Rafe lingers there, flushed lips parted, waiting patiently for your move. 

“Rafe?” Your voice is quiet, and yet he still hears you despite the music. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand so close without devouring him whole.

His eyes flicker to yours, “Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

Before you know it, his lips crash into yours roughly, almost bruising them. He’s so hungry for you. For your touch. He has wanted this for so, so, so long. And fuck, so have you.

The hard press of his cock pushing right against your center is torturous. As if his stupid muscular thigh wasn’t enough. You ground yourself down on him, breathing a moan against his lips. 

“My flower,” He pants into your mouth, tongue swiping against your bottom lip, “Gonna be good for me?”

“So good.” You rock against him, your teeth grazing his lips. His fingers untangle from your hair, and cup your cheek, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. You push yourself further against him, rocking your hips. He groans against your cheek, thrusting up. 

A large hand slides down your neck and grips it gently, earning him a sudden, breathy moan, “Want me that bad?” 

Your legs tighten around his waist, “Yes.”

“'Y'sure, flower?”

“Yes.”

“More than him?”

“Don’t tease,” you whine lengthily, frustration so pent up it leaves you breathless, “You know my answer.”

“Do I?” Rafe hums, fingers rubbing tight circles into your clothed clit.

“Rafe.”

“Keep talking.”

You try hard to focus on the budding feeling in your core, to chase it so you can finally know what a proper orgasm feels like. Can’t remember the last time you had one, delivered by a man. 

“I want you,” You mumble, grazing your teeth on his pulsing throat as you suckle on his skin, leaving behind a bruise-like mark, “Always want you more.”

“Fuck—” he gasps, hips giving an involuntary jerk, “I’m never letting you go back to him, you know that right?”

Your grip around his neck tightens, fingernails digging into his tanned skin, “All yours.”

You’re so, so wet and you haven’t discarded a single piece of clothing. All he wants to do is replace his thigh with his cock but, he can’t. Not here anyway, so he settles for this. He’d settle for anything you give him right now. Lost to the sensation his head falls back, his eyes screw shut, his breath coming out in short pants. 

“C-Can we–Oh!– Can we leave?”

“Easy,” He hums, eyes still squeezed shut, brows gathering, “Not yet.”

“Please,” you beg quietly, squeezing his waist with your legs as your body tries to shove him closer.

Your pussy swells with pleasure, moans becoming deeper and more strained. He knows you’re close. He’s not far behind and there’s something so primal about making you cum in a room full of people, who’ve yet to take a second look at you two. The alcohol and the drugs in their veins become your accomplices. 

He feels the tension in your body, the way it seizes up, trying to fight the unbearable heat pooling in your pelvis. The sound of his husky moans in your ear is about to send you over the edge – heated coil unraveling, stomach muscles relaxing.

He relishes in the way you’re staring into his eyes with your mouth open. It feels so good, so right. The way his body completely envelopes yours.

You can’t believe you’re about to cum from dry-humping Rafe Cameron.

“This what you want?” He mutters.

You nod as best you can with his palm on your throat.

“Couldn’t fuckin’ wait, huh?” His jaw ticks. “That desperate?”

You nod again. Fuck, you’ll tell him whatever he wants if he’ll just touch you.

Focusing on the budding feeling, your hands grip his veiny forearm. His sleeves are shoved up to the elbows, cuffed there and you can feel a muscle twitch in his forearm. 

It turns you on. You let go of any thoughts, allowing your body to take over. You moan into his shoulder, grinding erratically into his hand.

“Good girl,” His voice is thick with desire, shaky from the buck of his hips. He has your face in his hands before you can shrink away. He's gripping your jaw between desperate fingers and tilting to your chin up, “So fucking good, flower.”

When Rafe begins to bounce his leg up and down and you bite your lip to silence your moans.

“If you ever let him touch you again, I’ll break his fuckin’ arms.” 

A whine seems to be the only thing that your brain can come up with.

You can feel the fire pulsating through his lips; you can feel it radiate off his body. 

He leans in to brush his lips against yours—feverish and light. His tongue swirls through your mouth from desperation starting to lock inside his chest. You have made him feel all kinds of things over the years. He needs to feel you, needs to touch you, constantly. After the searing memory of Topper’s hand on your waist, lips dangerously close to yours, he needs to be close to you.

"M'gonna come—baby, please let me,” You cry out and dig your nails into his skin, chest heaving rapidly.

"Go ahead," He gulps, ready to take you home, he presses his forehead against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck, "'M right here."

Your stomach churns as the thin thread that is holding your composure together snaps. The tip of his nose drags over your jaw, a soft kiss pressed there as he nudges your head to fall back onto his shoulder.

And then he has you shaking, hurtling towards an orgasm that leaves your mind spinning. His lips move to your neck, tongue, and teeth stinging and soothing, mumbling praises and filthy promises.

“Oh, my fuckin'—God!”

He doesn't let up, not when your clit begins to throb, or walls pulse.

Not until you're shaking so hard through your orgasm that you are all but crawling up his lap, leaving you unable to breathe.

“C’mere,” he says, softly, although you haven’t moved. He lifts a hand to your face to brush the hair back from your eyes, lingering for a moment before his gaze slides up to yours.

“You’re mine.” 

[probably-writing-x]

Armour

Rafe!AU x Reader

Summary: Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.

Warnings: Suggestions of a toxic relationship, cursing, mentions of alcohol / drug dependency, I think that’s everything??

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I LOVED writing this - it took me ages but I just had the idea from this gif and went for it. Let me know if you like it <3

It wasn’t a feeling you could describe. Because, really, it felt like there was no explanation. You’d been in love. You’d been consumed. And now? Nothing. It felt like a part of your future had been torn away in front of you. And you didn’t know why.

For nine years now you’d been dating your boyfriend, James. He was your high school relationship, turned college relationship, and the two of you had returned to the Outer Banks and bought a place together - planning on staying here so that he could work for his father now that the two of you had graduated college.

You’d been living in the house for a year now, down the road from his parents’ home, where he’d grown up. It was weird really, you’d been so certain that you wanted to get off the island. But he’d suggested moving back here and you agreed. That was what was going to keep him happy, anyway. And, plus, him working for his Dad’s company would mean that the two of you were practically set for life. Though it felt strange to think that your life would begin and end here. You’d done it for him, for your relationship, your future with James.

And yet you couldn’t figure out where things had changed. You couldn’t pinpoint a day, a moment, an argument; nothing. One day he was yours and the next he was disappearing. And, as much as you wanted to keep him, there was only so much it was in your control.

It was a day burned into your mind, one that would remain burned there for a long time. The way he’d looked at you, cold and heartless. The way he’d spoken, yelled and screamed when you disagreed. And, just like that, he’d packed a bag and walked out towards his parents’ place, telling you that it was over. Nine years of a relationship slipping away, disappearing into the dark of your first night alone.

Sarah had come round that night and stayed with you, her baby bump growing into her fifth month of pregnancy. She’d stayed with you on the couch as you cried, still been there in the morning when your eyes were tired and puffy. She’d stayed the entire day and helped pack up as many of your things as you could, called John B to get him to help take your stuff to their house.

They lived where the chalet used to be, in a house John B had built with the boys, much bigger than what they used to have. One of the rooms was taken up by the starts of their nursery, and they’d already set up an air mattress in the other room for you, a spare sheet and comforter folded on top. You didn’t sleep much more than a couple of hours that night either, or the night after, and you only slept from exhaustion on the fourth night.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Sarah knocks gently on the door before letting herself in, “How are you doing?”

You pull yourself to sit up in the bed, pushing yourself back against the headboard, drawing your knees to your chest, “I’m okay, just tired.”

She frowns and comes to sit on the bed beside you, her hand squeezing your knee, “So, you don’t have to see him if you don’t want to, but my brother is flying back today.”

Rafe. Her older brother. The boy you’d grown up with. He’d been your first kiss at a party when both of you were too young to know what you were doing. He’d been the boy that picked you up from your first drunk night when your parents couldn’t know you’d been drinking. He’d been the one your eyes were drawn to in a crowd of people since you could remember. You hadn’t seen him since the summer after your first year of college. He’d decided to move to New York - taking up a job in the city. The two of you had sat on the dock and spoken for hours and he ended the conversation by telling you he was leaving in the morning. Since then, your paths hadn’t crossed. He was barely home nowadays. But, you suppose, with Sarah being pregnant, it was a better time than any for him to return to the old stomping grounds.

“He’s coming here?” You swallow the lump in your throat.

She nods, “He’s going to sleep on the couch for a couple of nights. I haven’t told him anything about you and James - I figured it was up to you if you wanted to tell him or not.”

You take a deep breath and nod too, “Okay, thank you.”

Sarah squeezes your leg again and places her other hand over her bump, pushing herself up to stand, “John B is making some food if you want any breakfast. I’d make the most of it, he hates cooking normally,” She laughs, the sympathy still casting a shadow over her bright eyes.

Sarah knew how things were with you and Rafe, as much as she never mentioned it to you - it was a conversation that it felt like the two of you had already had without any words being spoken. She’d seen his face after the two of you kissed, the way he blushed and stuttered afterwards. She’d watched the way things had changed between you when you and James got together, the way Rafe seemed to distance. And she’d watched the pain in your eyes the day he left, like a little window through to the ache that seemed to never leave your heart. And, right now, she’d seen the slightest glimmer of hope in you at the mention of him coming home.

For the first time in a few days, you find yourself actually wanting to get up, get ready, feel a little human for the day. You shower and do all of your skincare, spending a little longer on it than you usually do. You half-dry your hair and plait it instead of leaving it to frizz around your head, and you change into clean clothes from the duffle bag of things that you and Sarah had packed up from your house - well, what was your house.

By the time you come downstairs, John B and Sarah are sat at the dining table, tucking into plates of food with a fresh pot of coffee and a jug of orange juice on the table. One of his arms is around the back of her chair, his eyes bright as he listens to her speak.

“Hey! You’re up!” He looks over and grins as you come down the stairs, “How are you feeling today?”

You smooth a hand over the two braids on your head and smile, feeling like you have to force it just a little less than before, “Better, thank you.”

“Good, well there’s food here if you want it,” He gestures to the table, “And eat up quick because Sarah’s eating enough for two at the minute.”

You laugh and make your way over, sitting down at the opposite side of the table. From the angle, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in their lounge and the sight doesn’t feel like yourself. Your eyes are dark underneath, something no eye cream would fix after just one use. And your body seems weirdly shrunken in the sweatshirt around your figure. It sits long over your arms and so baggy that you can’t make out the shape of your torso. Your skin looks drier and your lips are chapped. But you remind yourself that you feel a little more human today and it seems to ease the worry for a while, your breath feeling less shaky as you turn back to the food.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realise the time,” John B glances at the clock, “I promised I’d go and help Pope build their crib before I went to pick your brother up - apparently I’m a pro at it now.”

Pope and Cleo were also expecting, due just a month after Sarah and John B’s baby would likely be born. They lived in a house not far from his parents’ place. JJ and Kie had come back to the Outer Banks a few months ago after travelling for a year - though they said it was less travelling and more finding as many places to surf as they could. Before that, Kie had been working on turtle conservation in a few different projects and JJ had been flying out everywhere with her - experiencing the world as a pair. They had no plans of marriage, or kids, or even where to settle, but that was perfect for them; chasing another adventure until it felt like they’d done it all. And you - whilst it felt like all of your friends were starting a new chapter, yours had just ended and the author was yet to think of where the story would go next. It was as if one of the main characters had just dropped out of the pages, leaving the story in ruins from here on out - all chapters of marriage and pregnancy and growing old together disappearing as quickly as James had told you it was over.

John B kisses Sarah a quick goodbye and grabs the keys to his truck, disappearing outside. A chill flurries through the house but it dissipates quickly, settling back into the home they’d managed to make together. You weren’t sure if you could remember your house feeling like that, and when you think about it for too long, you settle on the fact that maybe it never had.

~~~

It’s early afternoon when you hear the sound of a car in the driveway. And you’re sure your ears prick up to the noise, your heart seeming to pause a little in preparation. You set down the book in your hands and stand up from the couch, glancing at your appearance in the mirror quickly and dragging your fingertips underneath your eyes as if to push the fatigue away from them.

“I think that’s them back,” Sarah comments as she comes downstairs, making her way over to the door, “Yeah, that’s them! Are you okay?”

You glance at her and regather your words, “Of course.”

And, just like that, the door clicks open and the sound of two rumbling voices tumbles into the room, a deep laugh that pauses halfway through.

“Hey little sis!” Rafe’s voice seems no different than when you last heard it, deep and intense but seemingly so comforting.

He grins as he wraps his arms around his sister, cautiously as if the bump between them is the most fragile thing he’s seen. His eyes flick down to the baby bump and back up, shaking his head with the slightest reflection of tears in his eyes.

“I still can’t believe it,” He chuckles, hugging her again, “I was just saying to John B that I-“

As he pulls away from her, his eyes flick back to the only other body in the room. The few metres between you. His shoulders and features soften, his body relaxing just slightly. His smile falters, somewhere close to shock, before returning as bright as it had been before.

“(Y/N)…” His voice seems to trail off, Adam’s apple bobbing and the sound of his duffle bag hitting the floor seeming to echo in the space between you, “Long time no see.”

With that, he strides the short distance between you and wraps his arms around you tightly, tight enough that your feet just slightly lift from the ground. He smells like dark cologne and coffee and his hair is longer than when you’d seen him last, his face seeming fuller and sharper as if he’d grown into himself, a shadow of stubble growing darker around his jawline.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” He comments, settling you back as he steps away from you, hands still gripping your forearms - his eyes seem to graze over you as if checking over.

“Yeah I-“ You clear your throat, voice seeming scratchy as your eyes find it impossible to leave him, “I’m just staying for a few days.”

“God, it’s good to see you,” His brows raise with his smile, a light laugh warming the space between you before Rafe seems to come back to himself, clearing his throat and letting go of his hold around your arms, one of his hands flying up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“I’ll leave your stuff down here if that’s okay, Rafe,” Sarah comments, “Are you sure you’re okay with sleeping on the couch?”

He turns away from you and takes a second to rejoin a conversation away from you, nodding, “Yeah, of course. We all know I slept in way worse places after drunk nights before.”

You’d learnt from Sarah that Rafe was completely sober now - he’d stopped the drinking and the drugs not long after you’d gone off to college, and Sarah still swore it was like a weird shift into his old self coming back. You weren’t sure that you knew what she meant - he’d always been Rafe to you.

“Alright, I’ll bring down some pillows and a blanket,” John B nods, jogging upstairs.

Before you can say anything else, your phone starts to ring on one of the side tables by the couch, buzzing loudly against the wooden surface. The screen flashes up with “James” accompanied by a blue heart emoji and a photo of the two of you on vacation that you still hadn’t removed.

“I-“ You feel your cheeks heat, “I should take this.”

You grab the phone and flee down the corridor, only answering the call when you’re outside, the door to the garden remaining ajar behind you.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N),” He returns, his voice seeming cold even through the speaker of your phone, “Are you still at Sarah’s?”

“Yeah I’m just staying here for a few days I-“

“Okay, I have more of your stuff to drop off,” James cuts in, “I’ll swing by and leave it at the front door.”

“James can we just-“

He hangs up then and the phone feels heavy in your hand, still lightly pressed against your ear as if any part of him still remained. Your heart seems to clench and your bottom lip quivers but you pierce your lips together tightly to stop it, clenching your nails into your palm until the slight sting centres you back into where you were. This morning had felt like a better day, a few steps forward, and within just a few short words you seemed to have tumbled all the way back to square one.

When you turn around and go back inside, it’s just Rafe left in the lounge.

“Where did-“

“Something to do with pregnancy,” Rafe narrows his eyes a little, a small smile on his lips, “But I have no idea what she actually said.”

You nod and wrap your arms around yourself, avoiding his gaze.

He frowns, standing up from the couch, “Is everything okay?”

You nod again.

“I saw you were reading To Kill A Mockingbird, do you like it? I realise I never asked you,” He picks up your copy from the table and brushes a thumb over the worn cover.

He’d given you that book when you’d graduated. You’d read it front to back at least four times since then, sometimes just reading the annotations that he’d put in the margins instead of the printed words on the page.

“It’s the one I gave you,” His brows drop as if in sudden realisation, and his eyes seem brighter like they’re swelling with the hints of pride in his heart, “I didn’t even realise it was the same one. I can’t believe you’ve still got this.”

You fiddle with the material on the sleeves of your jumper, noticing how it seems to scratch at your skin more now, “Yeah, same one.”

Rafe glances up and the pride in his eyes seems to etch towards worry, “(Y/N), what’s going on?”

You shake your head again, “Um, I think I’m going to go and lie down. I should probably give you a chance to settle in anyway, you’ve been travelling and everything.”

With a slight stumble over your words, you hurry towards the stairs, disappearing out of his sight before he has the chance to stop you.

~~~

Somewhere between then and now, you’d fallen asleep. You wake up hours later and the sun has shifted to the afternoon angle that meant it no longer came burning through the window in the spare bedroom. The house is quiet but you can hear the sound of conversation downstairs, quiet voices and hushed tones.

When you open your bedroom door, the conversation becomes clearer - Rafe and Sarah.

“She’s not herself, why won’t you tell me what’s happened?” Rafe says, and you can hear the worry injected into his words.

“Rafe, I can’t tell you for her, you’ve just got to wait until she’s ready to talk about it,” Sarah explains, “It’s been years since you two have seen each other, you can’t blame her for not wanting to talk to you about stuff yet.”

“We used to talk about everything, I knew everything about her,” Rafe returns, “I’ve just… I’ve missed her. And I’ve come back but it still feels like I haven’t got her back.”

You feel the weight settle and flutter on your chest, a weird combination between wanting to run down to him and run away from it all. It felt weird to have Rafe back when you felt so distant from yourself. The closest to him you’d been in years and yet feeling like the furthest from you.

One of the floorboards creaks beneath your feet and their conversation quickly ceases. You take that as your sign to go downstairs, feeling a little more human now that you’d caught up on another few hours of sleep.

“Hi honey,” Sarah smiles warmly, “There’s a box of stuff for you on the counter.”

“Of course there is,” You roll your eyes at her and she laughs a little, “Thank you.”

It’s an unlabelled box, likely one of the small ones you’d used to move into the house in the first place. But you take the lid on top as a sign to not open it - whatever was in there you probably didn’t want to be thinking about now. It could be opened on one of your bad days when you needed to cry. Until then, it could definitely be ignored.

“Alright I’m just going to call John B and get him to pick up some dinner on the way home,” Sarah comments, walking out of the kitchen and into the lounge instead.

Rafe is leaning back against one of the counters, a red solo cup in his hand, his eyes looking down as he swirls around the liquid in the cup.

“I thought you stopped drinking,” You comment, gesturing to his hands.

He chuckles a little and looks up at you, “Yeah, yeah, I did. It’s just water. This was the first cup I could find.”

You nod and walk over to him, leaning against the kitchen island opposite Rafe so that you were facing him, your arms folding over your chest.

“So, how’s New York?”

Rafe smiles, “Very different from home. Sometimes a good different, other times not so much. Just a lot to get used to, you know?”

You nod in agreement but don’t say anything.

“Makes me realise how much I miss from home.”

Your eyes find his again and both of you smile just enough for it to be visible. The air feels warmer between you, warmer still every time your eyes meet.

“So, you moved back here, to the Outer Banks, glad to come home?”

“I don’t-“ You purse your lips for a second, “I did, when I first got back. I don’t know anymore.”

He’s silent in return and your eyes lose contact, yours flicking to the floor. Rafe stretches out one of his feet and nudges at your ankle, tapping you, “Hey.”

You look up and let your eyes return to his, his gaze softening as his words quieten. The tension in you seems to relax just enough.

“What happened, (Y/N)?”

You feel the lump reform in your throat, the way it seems to constrict any chance you have of speaking, the way your muscles feel weaker, like you could crumble there and then, “I don’t know.”

The words come out barely audible, scratching from your tongue as your bottom lip trembles a little.

“One day we were fine, the next he told me it was over,” You half-laugh because you’re certain it’s the only way you can avoid crying, though tears are already blurring your vision, “I don’t know what happened.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe steps forward and pulls your arms from around your torso, guiding them around his back before wrapping his own arms around you too, letting your head bury onto his chest. He brings a hand up to your hair and keeps you close to him, tightening his hold on you as much as he possibly can.

You let yourself cry into him, tears staining the t-shirt as you grip onto the material at the back, holding him like you’re terrified that he’ll slip away too. Despite the way you need him to hold you, you’re sure that he needs you too - in the way his chin rests on top of your hair, the way he adjusts every few seconds as if reassuring himself that you couldn’t get any closer.

The pair of you stay like that for a short infinity, neither of you wanting to be the first to move, both of you certain that years of emotion is pouring into the single gesture, the single contact after years without. A short infinity.

~~~

That night, you sit down for dinner with Sarah, John B and Rafe. They all make sure that you fill your plate of food first, and encourage you to have the last slice of pizza. They look at you with a sense of relief on their features, like you were back just a little more than you had been. Rafe’s arm settles over the back of your chair, his other hand wrapped around a glass of water. He looks at you when you speak and chuckles deeply when you make a quiet joke. You feel the most human you’ve felt in years.

And when you go to bed that night, it feels less likely that you’ll be lying awake questioning everything, much more likely that you’ll sleep soundly. You change into your pyjamas - a baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts - and get under the covers, tugging them up to your neck.

Just then, there’s a knock at the door, a little tap like it isn’t sure if it wants to be heard.

“Come in,” You announce, pushing yourself to sit up a little against the headboard.

It’s Rafe on the other side, only his silhouette visible against the dark of the room, the light of the corridor illuminating him from behind, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” He whispers into the dark, “I was just downstairs and I realised you left this.”

His hands are wrapped around the copy of your book, the pages slightly folded at the corner.

“Oh, right, yeah, I forgot it,” You smile, “Thank you.”

“You just, you normally always read before bed,” He continues, bringing it over as the bedroom door starts to shut slowly behind him, “Well, you used to, I don’t know if you still do that anymore, I just remember when you used to- I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

You laugh a little and he sets the book down on your nightstand.

“So, you promise you’re okay?”

“I will be,” You return, watching as he stands awkwardly at the side of your bed, like he’s completely out of place, “Do you want to sit down?”

His mouth opens and closes like he’s not sure what to say but he nods, walking around to the other side of the bed and sitting down beside you, looking out of place still in his clothes from the day.

You’re both silent, illuminated by the slither of light coming through from the ajar bedroom door. On the far side of the room, there’s a vanity stretching across the wall, it’s scattered with a few of your belongings, and right in the middle sits the box that James had dropped off earlier.

Rafe nods his head in the direction of it, “So, have you opened that?”

You look at him and frown, “No, no I haven’t.”

“Don’t you want to know what he’s given you?”

You laugh a little, “I can tell you want to know. Go and get it, let’s open it.”

He chuckles and scrambles to stand up, grabbing the box and bringing it back over. Rafe settles himself back into the bed and sets the box down between the two of you, “Go on, you do the honours.”

You laugh and take the lid off. The box is only half full, littered with a few relatively meaningless things. There’s a couple of your tops, a jewellery box you took when you went on vacation, a couple of bracelets, a photoframe - empty, though that had once held a photo of you and James together.

“Holy shit! You kept this?” Rafe exclaims, picking up a shot glass that had been buried under a few things.

The glass had come from a night the two of you had snuck into the bar near the port. You’d managed to pick the lock on the door, spent hours just the two of you chatting and figuring out random drinks to make. Rafe had poured you shots of every liquor he could find and you’d shared each one, grimacing a little less with every shot as the alcohol started to take effect. You’d left some time after sunrise, managed to stumble your way down to the beach, and woke up hours later with the shot glass still held in your grasp. It had come with you to college, and came back when you moved back home. A little pocketed story that only you and Rafe knew.

“Of course I did,” You giggle, “That was a good night.”

Rafe traces his thumb around the top of the glass, “Yeah, it was I loved that night.”

“Do you remember it?” You scoff, “We were wasted.”

You remembered it. You were so sure he was going to kiss you, then. To kiss you for the first time that wasn’t controlled by a party game. To kiss you for the first time away from a party of laughing eyes. He’d looked at you like he was going to kiss you, but he never did. Though, when you slept, he’d linked his fingers with yours, squeezing three times before both of you fell asleep. His hand, just like the shot glass, had still been in yours hours later.

“I remember.”

The silence falls once again as both of you pick and pull at the rest of the objects in the box. Nothing takes much interest after that, but you find yourself instead drawn to what was missing.

“It’s not in here,” You mumble, pulling through the box one more time to check again.

“What isn’t?” Rafe frowns, “What’s not there?”

“It’s um-“ You clear your throat, glancing up at him, “It’s stupid really.”

He shakes his head, “It’s not stupid, what is it?”

“Do you remember that little giraffe I used to have? My nana got it for me when I was a kid, it’s not in here, and I couldn’t find it when me and Sarah got my stuff. It’s not here,” You frown again, taking out the shot glass and closing the lid on the rest of the box.

“Well, it’s got to be at the house somewhere,” Rafe shrugs, “We’ll find it.”

You half-laugh, setting the box down on the floor beside the bed, “What are we going to do? Break into the house?”

Your laugh continues but Rafe’s stops after a split second, shrugging his shoulders, “Let’s do it.”

You halt in your movements, looking at the way his eyes seem so set on you, like nothing could tear them away, “You’re serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

~~~

That’s how, within the hour, you’re walking up towards your old house, it looking eerie and dark in your absence, the flowers you’d planted outside looked dry even after a few days without you here and it bubbled a new sense of loss inside you, like a part you hadn’t thought you’d lose - a mundane part that just added to the rest.

“Do you still have a key?” Rafe hisses from beside you as you both walk up the driveway.

“No, I left it at home,” You return, glancing up at him.

“What?” Rafe raises his brows, “We came all the way here and yo-“

“Kidding,” You smile, pulling the key from your pocket, “This is still my house too until he settles everything.”

Rafe grins, “I like the way you think (Y/L/N).”

You step up to the door and go to unlock it. Rafe steps forward, his hand wrapping around yours before you can move. He looks at you and presses the index finger of his other hand to his lips, guiding his hand around yours to turn the key in the lock. The door creaks when it opens and you both wince, letting it close slowly behind you.

“Damn, this is a nice place,” Rafe whispers, glancing around the downstairs rooms of the house.

You look at him and roll your eyes, “That makes me feel better.”

He laughs quietly and clasps his hands together, widening his eyes at the quiet noise that seems to echo around the house, “So where are we going?”

“I don’t know where it would be,” You shake your head, “Maybe the lounge?”

He outstretches a hand, “Lead the way.”

You take Rafe’s hand in yours as the two of you go towards the lounge. You bump into the couch as you step into the room and he stumbles behind you, hands flying to your waist to stop you from falling.

“We’re not exactly pros at this,” Rafe laughs, letting you balance yourself again as you stand up, your back pressing against his chest.

You glance down at yourself, a baggy hoodie over a pair of shorts, a pair of crocs on your feet, and him, a pair of slacks and a checkered shirt with a couple of buttons undone. He steps back from you and glances around the dark room, pulling out his phone and flicking on the flashlight. It casts a circle of light across the room as you start to look around, noticing the empty spots where photos of the two of you used to decorate the space. There are a few takeout boxes sprawled over the coffee table and a line of empty beer cans, one of them rolling along the floor when you step beside it.

“I can’t see anything,” Rafe hisses, flashing the light in your direction before you squint at the sight, blocking the brightness from your eyes, “Ooh sorry I-“

You both freeze then as a light flicks on upstairs, the hallway light.

“Who’s that?” Rafe mouths in your direction and you look at him like it’s the worst thing you’ve heard, watching the realisation sink onto his face just a second later.

Before either of you can say anything, there’s the sound of feet padding down the stairs, picking up their pace as they near you. Rafe takes a stride across the room, bumping shoulders with you as he comes to a stop.

“Who the f-“ James rounds the corner, “(Y/N)? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I ju-“

“Rafe?” James interjects, “What? Did you hear (Y/N) was single and catch the next flight back?”

“Hey, no, that’s not what-“ You begin again.

“Fucking unbelievable,” James interrupts you again, “What are you doing in my house?”

“Cut it out, asshole. Stop interrupting her,” Rafe cuts in, and you can instantly sense his change in demeanour, the way he shifts on his feet, “And this is (Y/N)’s house too, you got that?”

James scoffs, folding his arms over his chest, “What? So you brought Rafe here to fight your battles?”

“No, no,” You blush at the discomfort, “I just needed some of my things. Well, no, not some, just one thing actually, it’s stupid, just a little thing… I just-“ You swallow the lump in your throat, “Seb. He wasn’t in the box of stuff.”

“What? That weird giraffe thing you brought everywhere,” James scoffs, “That’s really that important?”

“Um,” You laugh a little to relieve some of the awkward tension clenching your chest, “No, I guess it’s not important but we were just talking, well, we were looking through the box and we realised it wasn’t there and Rafe, um, Rafe said-“

“Rafe?” James scoffs, “You’re kidding, right?”

“Seriously, man, cut it out,” Rafe repeats, stepping forward just a little as if he’s protecting you, not enough to block you off but enough for you to know that he was there, “I don’t care if you don’t think it’s important, you’re done making her feel bad for things she cares about - do you understand that?”

James lets out a laugh that seems to echo around the room and scratch at your ears, sending an uncomfortable shiver up your spine, “How the hell do you know what she wants? What’s this? The first time you’ve been home in how many years?”

“Yeah, well, good timing I’d call it. Something about some asshole that didn’t realise how lucky he was,” Rafe cocks a brow.

“Rafe…” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re shrinking into the room but he looks back at you and nods just gently, reassuring you. And you’re surprised when it works, settling the fear in your heart.

“So what? You think you come back and know everything about her? Like you’re some sort of knight in shining armour?” James scoffs, “You don’t know jackshit about her, let alone our relationship.”

Rafe laughs and steps away from you, narrowing his eyes at James before letting out a slow breath, shaking his head as he walks the length of the room, “Oh you really are an asshole.”

James doesn’t say anything, watching as Rafe strides the room, a harsh air about him you were sure he hadn’t shown in years, perhaps since he’d last seen you.

“You’re dating a woman like (Y/N) for nine years. Nine years. Nine fucking years you had her there for you - picking up the phone when you’d call, letting you complain about your bad days, not thinking to mention it when your cooking was terrible, always always thinking of you before anything else. And what? That wasn’t good enough?”

“This is nothing to do with you Cameron,” James defends, shifting his stance.

“You hurt (Y/N),” Rafe steps forward until he is less than a foot from James, staring at him coldly, “That means it does have something to do with me. In fact, it has a hell of a lot to do with me.”

You’re watching the scene unfold as if it’s fiction, as if this is a cross between a dream and a nightmare that you were about to wake up from. This Rafe isn’t the same boy that he was with you, he’s never this cold with you. But with someone that had done you wrong? He was a completely different version of himself.

He’s close enough to James now that you’re practically counting down the seconds until he’ll swing a fist at him, it’s inevitable. But you shift in your spot and he glances back to look at you, his eyes softening when they meet with yours. His brows relax and the features of his face do with them, settling into himself a little. His lips smile a little against the tension in his jaw and he takes a deep breath in, turning back to James.

“I don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t know what you think you’re gaining from all of this. But we’re gonna go now,” Rafe’s words don’t shift from their blunt tone, each word feeling calculated and exact, “And you’re going to go to bed, in a house that’s not fully yours, in a bed you used to share. And you’re going to wake up the next morning and the morning after that and again and again, and every time you’ll be on your own. You might not realise it now, maybe not tomorrow or the day after, but you’ll realise it. You’ll realise that every single day you’re waking up without (Y/N) here, you’re missing the one damn thing that made your life worth it.”

He clenches his jaw again and watches as James swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes flicking to you.

“Oh, here it is,” Rafe reaches down to the couch and picks up the toy giraffe you’d been looking for, holding it in his hand, “Good seeing you, James.”

He hits your ex on his chest as if a friendly gesture but it knocks James back just enough for him to be reminded of his place. Rafe looks back at you and offers you the same smile as before, offering you your exit as you make your way over to him. He lets you step in front and places a hand to your back, guiding you out of the house, slamming the door behind the two of you. And for the first time since you’d left this house days ago, you feel alive.

[nadvs]

cam girl (part eight)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

His breath is hot against your cheek, his body enclosing yours.

Behind Rafe, the door to the rest of this house is shut, but anyone could walk in at any minute.

It didn’t even cross your mind the day you were up in his bedroom with him that someone could come in, because why would they?

But the laundry room is a public area. The risk of being found is dangerous and alluring at the same time.

You never expected you’d think this way and feel so excited from such a risk, but then again, Rafe has turned your world upside down.

Your back is flush against the closet door. You feel Rafe’s hand move from your wrist to the hem of your uniform, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh under your dress.

“After everything I do for you… and you’re flirting with a guy in my fucking house,” he mutters.

“I wasn’t, baby,” you whisper, stirred by his jealousy.

“Why were you smiling at him like that?” Rafe asks, his eyes narrowing as his hand squeezes your thigh hard. It’s so fucking exciting that he’s this impassioned with envy, all over a ten-second conversation you had with another man.

“I was just being nice,” you say.

“Just being nice,” he mocks. “I’m getting that asshole fired.”

“Rafe,” you say. “I’m yours. You know that.”

“I have to make sure you know it, too, don’t I, baby?” His hand rises and presses roughly against your middle. You swallow hard. “I thought we said you weren’t gonna wear panties anymore.”

“I can’t…” You swallow hard. “I shouldn’t come to work like that.”

“You probably shouldn’t fuck who you work for, either,” he says, “but you do that all the time, don’t you?”

You feel him shift your panties to the side, the pads of his fingers pressing between your lips.

“Fuck,” you whisper in pleasure.

“Already wet,” he chuckles. “Already so fucking wet for me.”

He hitches your dress up. Thankfully, he’s wearing sweatpants and there aren’t any buttons or zippers to delay it any longer. He’s able to pull his pants down in one move.

Rafe roughly hikes your leg up. He bends to guide his cock into you, pushing your panties to the side, the sensation of doing this standing up so unbelievably hot.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders, sharply exhaling with his first hard push into you, the back of your head hitting the door behind you.

He feels so fucking entitled to you, and you wonder if it’s from his life of wealth and luxury, from being used to getting whatever he wants.

“You… are… fucking… mine,” he mutters, with a hard thrust between each word. You dig your nails into his shoulder, the passion between you making your entire body hot.

“You have nothing to be jealous about, Rafe,” you say into his ear. “Nothing. Ever.”

He captures your lips in his. The gesture surprises you. He’s never been that big on kissing, preferring to watch while he fucks you. But his mouth is on you now, his tongue hot and pressing against yours.

You wonder if it’s silly to think he’s kissing you out of appreciation for your reassurance.

Rafe’s spit coats your bottom lip, hands tight on you, cock moving in and out of you.

Your keep your arm around his shoulders and your other hand finds his cheek, cradling his jaw, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“Nobody can make me feel like you do,” you tell him, your breath shallow and weaving into your words. “Or make my body do the things it does with you.”

You don’t know where trying to make him feel better ends and wanting to get this off your chest begins, but the words keep spilling out of you.

“He touched my shoulder,” you breathe, “just my fucking shoulder, and I swear to God, I thought about how wrong it felt that it wasn’t you.”

Rafe’s softening eyes fixate on yours as he penetrates you. It’s like his anger is losing its burn right in front of you.

“I belong to you,” you say.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice deep. The inside of his forearm is pressed against the back of your knee as he holds you up, and his arm starts to fall and tremble. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You can tell he’s about to reach his orgasm - it’s another surprise. He always lasts much longer. You’re almost sure that the sweet words you’re whispering to him are having this effect.

His thrusts aren’t as rough, his expression not as hard. Rafe is no longer angry or determined to prove a point. He’s simply savoring the feeling of being in your pussy. A sense of pride fills you when you realize your reassurance is what calmed him down.

You watch him, restless to show him how much you want him.

“Let me swallow your cum,” you moan. He stops driving into you for a second, looking down at you with a smirk, dimples deep.

“Yeah?” he rasps.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

Rafe pulls out of you, lips parted as he huffs for air, and he watches you drop to your knees. Your eyes are on his as you hold his cock, putting him in your mouth.

He tilts forward, an arm leaning against the closet door.

Your lips are tight around him, your tongue swirling. You start to move faster, putting two hands on him, rolling your wrists as you suck his tip.

“Oh, my God,” Rafe says, his tone so gentle that it sounds like he’s thanking you. “You gonna swallow my whole load?”

“Yes,” you moan against his cock. You increase your pressure on his slick length, fingers tightening, mouth sucking harder.

This right here, bringing him to his climax, feels like the most important thing you’ll ever do.

His hot cum gushes out of him quickly, oozing into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. Your hands work him even faster, his cock twitching. Rafe looks down at you as you take everything he has to offer.

“Open your mouth,” he says. “I wanna see it in your mouth.”

You obey, parting your lips and tilting your head so you don’t lose a single drop.

“So fucking pretty,” he praises. You swallow and exhale in pleasure as the hot, salty liquid spills down your throat.

He leans to collect you off the floor, his hands scooping you up. You face him, pushing your dress down as he pulls the waistband to his sweatpants up to his hips.

“Let me guess,” you whisper with a small smile. “I can’t cum until later?”

Rafe looks down at you with gratification.

“Only ‘cause I’m gonna make you squirt again,” he tells you. You laugh at his promise, how casually he says something so vulgar.

The two of you share a smile, eyes locked, and the minute you’re living in together is so tender that you think if anyone could see you, they’d think this was a romantic moment, but it’s not, and you know you need to remember that.

“We could’ve gotten caught,” you say, pushing past him so you don’t have to be subjected to those beautiful fucking eyes any longer.

“I wouldn’t care,” Rafe says with a chuckle.

“Obviously you wouldn’t.” You open the dryer and start to unload the sheets you put in earlier. “But I’d lose my job.”

“Do you even need it?”

You still to look at him over your shoulder.

“Of course I do,” you laugh. Has he forgotten that not everyone has a trust fund? Does he think you enjoy living in your shoebox of an apartment?

“Even with… with what I’m giving you?” he asks. The $1000 cam shows, the extra tips, the random deposits he gives you all have put your bank account to a number you didn’t think you’d ever see, at least while you’re still a student.

But it’s not exactly a steady income like your cleaning job is. You don’t like to think about it, but Rafe could lose interest in you tomorrow for all you know. You can’t exactly rely on his money.

“Like that’ll last,” you say, trying to sound playful. “I still need a steady job, Rafe.” You just want to be honest. Fair. He doesn’t owe you loyalty, no matter how much you’d like it.

Rafe stuffs his hands into his pockets, hair hanging over his forehead as he looks down awkwardly.

Maybe it was too serious a thing to say. Maybe you sounded like you want him to make some sort of commitment, when he has shown you time and time again that you’re just a whore to him. A whore he gets off on owning.

The gentle, languid atmosphere you were sharing is now sharp, both of you stiff.

Suddenly, the door creaks open and you’re grateful for the interruption.

One of the other maids greets you with a nod, then when she notices Rafe, she looks confused to see him in the laundry room with you.

He silently walks past her, his tall frame pushing out the door, not looking at you again.

You spend the rest of your shift distracting yourself with work. Over your lunch break, you sit in the empty backyard, talking on the phone with one of your close friends about school and everything else outside of Rafe, not wanting to risk anyone overhearing anything about him.

Finally, it’s almost three o’clock, an hour left to your shift. You head to the second-storey lounge at the back of the estate to cross off what remains on your to-do list.

As you head down the corridor, the sounds of men’s voices grow louder. You recognize Rafe’s laugh, like a melody making your heart flutter.

You see through the lounge window that he and his friends are sitting out on the beach-facing balcony, day-drinking on a Wednesday afternoon. The relaxed life of the wealthy never ceases to amaze you.

This means his bedroom is empty. An idea strikes you suddenly. You’ll leave Rafe a present to get rid of the weird energy that grew between you earlier today.

You rush to sneak into his bedroom, shutting the door behind you. You keep the lights off, the afternoon sun peeking behind his blinds.

You take your phone out of your uniform’s front pocket and lean it on his bed frame. After you settle on your knees onto the soft mattress, you start to record a video and watch yourself in the small screen.

Inching the fabric of your dress up, you close your eyes as you think about Rafe. Your hand immediately presses between your legs.

“You were right, baby, I shouldn’t wear panties,” you whisper into the phone. “They just get soaked as soon as I think about you.”

You tilt to sit on your butt and pull your underwear down, then spread your legs open for the camera.

With your fingers running up and down your slit, you shut your eyes and let yourself daydream about Rafe.

“I don’t know where I like your cum the best,” you whisper into the empty room. “In my mouth, in my pussy, or in my ass. I want your cum everywhere… all over me.”

You dip a finger inside of you, letting you a soft moan. You think back to when he first confronted you in this very room, the way you pulled down the towel that sat around his hips down and tasted him for the first time.

“Remember when you came on my face right here on your bed?” you say.

You imagine him lying here and watching you on his screen.

“Fuck, the thought of you jerking off gets me so…” You almost get lost in the moment, let the orgasm pull you in, but you take your hand off yourself. It takes all the willpower you have not to finish, deciding to save yourself for tonight.

You notice your hands are shaking when you stop the recording. You’ll send it to him during your cam session tonight.

As a final treat for him, you leave your panties under his covers.

You set to walk out of the room, but when you see the t-shirt Rafe was wearing today strewn over his chair, you can’t fight the impulse to take it. You’ll wear it for him tonight.

You tuck it under your arm and drop it off in your bag before you head to the lounge to finish up your day of work.

Your heart is racing after what you just did.

When you see Rafe through the lounge window, sitting with a group of guys you’ve seen so many times before, leaning back with his long legs casually spread, you imagine straddling his lap like you did last night.

The sun is casting an orange glow on the planes of his handsome face and… God, you need to stop staring at him.

It’s just sex, you tell yourself. Just kinky, intense, unforgettable sex with a guy who occasionally has a soft side to him. That’s it.

You start to water the plants laid out across the sill, glancing up every so often to look at Rafe.

When he finally notices you, his expression seems to relax, eyes dancing over you.

He eventually drops his gaze, continuing his conversation with his friends, surely trying to play it off in case anyone caught him looking at you like that.

He wouldn’t have told his buddies he was hooking up with you, would he? Or maybe he would, keen to brag how he was fucking the help?

You finish up cleaning the room and you know it’ll torture him, but he loves to put you through crazy shit, so you return the favor.

Instead of waiting until later tonight, you send Rafe the video you just took along with a text: keep your sound off unless you want your friends to hear me moan.

You watch him through the window, waiting for him to feel the vibration of his phone in his pocket. Excitement buzzes through you when he shifts back, pulling his phone out.

He looks at the screen. Sharp blue eyes pierce you, the subtle shake of his head seeming like a warning. You watch his fingers press the side of his phone, muting his sound.

Rafe brings his phone up closer to his face, sinking back a bit to prevent anyone from seeing his screen.

He only lasts a few seconds of the minute-long video. You watch him awkwardly shuffle in his seat, adjusting his groin. He brings the phone down, his lips pursed in irritation as he gazes at you.

If looks could kill.

He texts you: are you fucking serious?

You smile at your phone and reply: oh and i think i forgot my panties in your bed. you can give them to me later. my shift’s over :) see you at 10.

You’re still riding the power trip when you’re sitting on your bed with your laptop open that night, wearing nothing but his shirt. It smells so damn good.

“Hey, baby,” you coo when Rafe joins the session, right on time. You run your hands up your body, squeezing your chest over his shirt. “I stole something today.”

figure8: thief

“It’s just so soft,” you giggle.

figure8: you’re in so much trouble for that fucking video

“I’m sorry,” you laugh. “Did you like it at least?”

figure8: of course i did

figure8: if you wanted my cum all over you, why didnt you just say so

The thought of Rafe covering you in his hot cum makes your stomach tighten. You shrug.

figure8: ur panties smell like you

You lick your lips, imagining him smelling the underwear you left for him. You start to rub your hard nipples over the soft material of his shirt.

Whatever happened in the laundry room is now a distant memory. Thankfully, you two are back in your groove.

figure8: stretch yourself open

You spread your legs for him, pulling apart your lips, the camera capturing you.

figure8: so fucking perfect

You tilt your head, flattered.

figure8: get urself close to cumming and tell me what ur thinking about like u did in ur slutty little video

You lean back, one hand holding you up while the other rests on your pussy. You start to rub up and down, watching yourself in the camera.

“Every time I’m in front of you like this, I’m thinking about how you’re touching yourself,” you say. “The thought of you jerking off is just so fucking hot to me.”

figure8: doing it right now

“Fuck,” you laugh, throwing your head back. “What do you think about when you do it?”

figure8: how good you feel around my cock

“Yeah?” you say. “Which part of me?”

figure8: your pussy is my favorite to think about

“That’s my favorite place for you to be, too.”

figure8: yeah you never want me to pull out

“Shut up,” you laugh.

figure8: my needy girl

You keep rubbing your clit, your breaths starting to get faster as you think about how he stayed inside you as long as you wanted last night.

figure8: keep talking baby what are u thinking about

“Last night, the…” you sigh in longing. “The way you kept your cock in me after I squirted on you.”

figure8: u did such a good job

“Yeah?” you purr. You want to keep playing along, but it’s almost hurting at this point.

“Rafe… please, can you just come over?” you plead.

figure8: u can wait. keep playing with your clit and talking to me

You groan in frustration. He’s always keeping you on your toes like this, controlling your orgasms.

“I want your cock, baby, please,” you moan. “I want you to fuck me. Please just come over already.”

His next message makes you sigh a breath of relief.

figure8: only because u took my load so good today

figure8: keep your computer on your bed

figure8 tipped you $1000.

figure8 has left the session.

You wonder what the hell he has planned.

When Rafe arrives, he kisses you hard like he did earlier today, and even though it feels so fucking nice, you’re worried about the effect it’s having on you.

You pull away just to give yourself a breath and take his hand, leading him to your room.

When Rafe takes his jeans off, he throws his wallet at the foot of your bed.

“On your stomach,” he orders. He moves your pillow to the centre of your bed. “And get on your computer.”

You obey, allowing him to guide you to rest your pelvis on the pillow, anticipating what he’ll do to you. You feel Rafe settle behind you, fully naked. He pulls up your shirt - really, his shirt - and his hand glides over the curve of your raised bare ass.

You feel a hard slap on your skin and you yelp.

“That’s for sending me that fucking video when I was with my friends,” he chastises. “Getting me fucking hard like that… Jesus.”

“Sorry, baby,” you laugh. You’re not sorry at all.

He spanks you once more, the pain burning. You feel him shuffle again, opening his wallet in front of you next to your open laptop.

“You’re gonna buy whatever you want with my credit card while I fuck you,” he says.

You’re floored.

“Rafe,” you say in disbelief. “I don’t… I don’t even know what I’d get.”

“Then, think,” he says. “Get yourself a new computer.”

You look at your laptop. It is a pretty old model.

“This is…” You truly don’t have the words. Is he doing this because of your tense conversation earlier today? Or is it just one of his fantasies?

You moan when you feel him press his tip against your cunt.

You’re staring at your screen, in awe of all of this. In awe of him.

“Come on, baby,” Rafe encourages. He slowly drags himself into you, his hips eventually hitting your lower back when he gives you all of him.

Fingers trembling, you pull a black credit card out of his wallet and open a browser on your laptop, eager to please him. This is so different than anything you’ve done with anyone before.

You follow his instructions and simply search ‘laptop’. A string of links come up.

“Don’t cheap out,” he tells you. “Get the most expensive one.” He’s fucking you so damn slowly, surely to keep both of you from cumming.

You’re full of his cock while you click the highest price tag you find. This cost is nothing to him.

It’s nearly impossible to type in his credit card information, your name, your address, while he sinks in and out of you.

When a window pops up asking if the credit card information should be saved, his big hand is suddenly on top of yours, selecting ‘Save.’

The order goes through.

“Good girl,” he says. He sits up again, his arms supporting him, trapping your hips. “What do you want next, huh? A purse? Shoes?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admit. “I only ever buy things I need.”

“What you need is to be spoiled,” he says sternly.

This is an entirely new sensation - having no reservations, no budget while shopping. You decide to look for purses next and a $1800 designer bag catches your eye. You hover over it.

“Get it,” he tells you. You add it to your cart and set up next-day shipping. It’s an unbelievable thrill. “Keep going.”

You’re bobbing on your elbows as he continues to fuck you. He pauses a few times, warming his cock in you.

Next, you decide to buy two pairs of shoes and clothes you only imagined you’d see in a closet in a house that you’re cleaning.

Rafe is groaning behind you and you feel his weight shift on you, his chest pressing against your back.

“You wanna buy some lingerie?” His hot breath tickles the back of your ear.

“That’s more for you than me, isn’t it?” you tease.

“So?” he asks. You giggle and visit the first lingerie website you can think of. It comes up on your screen with an array of beautiful girls modelling the merchandise.

“Don’t look at these girls,” you joke, but really, you’re jealous of the thought of him lusting after another woman.

“Why the fuck would I look at…” he breathes, not finishing his sentence as he thrusts into you.

You find a white, lacy set. You buy it and at this point, you can’t take it anymore. You need him to fuck you for real.

You shuffle under him, trying to get up.

“You’re not done,” he laughs.

“If you don’t let me cum, I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” you beg.

“One more thing,” he teases. He shifts to type with one hand, navigating to a sex toy website. “Whatever you want.”

You scroll through and a curved, blue vibrator intrigues you. You’ve always seen rigid, straight ones, but the thought of this one inside you is exciting.

“This one,” you say. You order it, then finally, shut your laptop in desperation. His hand trails down your spine once he pulls out. It makes you whine. You were hoping he’d start fucking you harder.

“Rafe,” you groan. You turn over on your back, looking up as he sits over you, the tip of his erect cock hitting hit stomach.

“You want my cum all over you, don’t you?” he taunts.

“You said you were gonna make me squirt again.”

“Fuck,” he laughs. “You’re so desperate, oh my God. I will. Relax.”

He’s right. You have never been hungrier for him.

“You get so fucking turned on being my sugar baby, don’t you?” he asks.

You nod - if you didn’t have this kink already, you sure do now.

“I wanna see your tits covered in my cum,” he groans. You nod, pulling his shirt up off of you.

Rafe is sitting over you, his hand stroking up and down his length. The sight is so fucking intoxicating.

“You like watching me jerk off? This is better than imagining it, isn’t it?”

“Yes, baby,” you tell him.

You squeeze your tits together, your eyes locked on his dick. He starts to stroke faster, his hips bucking.

“Shit.” His voice is hoarse as he grunts, his eyes squeezing shut.

His cum spills out into ropes on your chest and he’s whimpering as he empties his balls onto you. He collapses, holding himself up over you.

When he opens his eyes again, you make sure he’s watching you as you run a finger up your breast, collecting some of his cum, and bring it to your mouth to taste him.

“You’re so hot,” he says, his chuckle one of disbelief. “I’m gonna taste you, too. Sit up there.” He points to your bed frame.

Your back is soon pressed against the frame, your legs spread for him. Rafe picks up the rose toy from your drawer and settles onto his front, his head between your thighs.

The way he’s starting to know his way around your room makes your cheeks warm.

He runs his thumb up your middle, licking his lips as he watches you.

“Goddamn, princess. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucking swollen,” he murmurs.

“It hurts,” you whine, your clit throbbing with need. You’ve been aching for him since this morning.

“I’ll make it better,” he promises. He leans forward, trailing his flattened tongue from your cunt up to your clit.

Nothing in the fucking world beats this feeling.

When Rafe places the toy against your clit, the suction triggers pleasure to roll through you. He leans down to push his tongue into your hole.

You gaze at him in awe. You take him in, his head bobbing between your legs, his broad shoulders flexing, his right leg hiked up and his left leg partly hanging off your small bed.

The knot in your stomach tightens and it feels like last night, like you’re gonna explode again.

“Rafe, don’t stop,” you beg. “Please don’t…” You impulsively squeeze his head between your thighs, and the grunt that he lets out onto your pussy tells you how hot he finds this, too.

“That’s it,” he says, muffled. “Cum on my tongue.”

You feel like you shatter from the inside, a choked sob erupting from you. He forces his head back, your thighs pushed away, so he can look at you. He takes the toy away, replacing it with his thumb.

The sight of your juices splashing onto his face, the depraved smile he’s wearing while you squirt on him in spurts, is something you know you’ll never forget. Every fucking second with him is like a dream.

You tilt your head back, chest heaving. You feel him pat your sensitive pussy with a satisfied laugh.

“My good fucking girl,” Rafe praises. You meet his eyes, his face shimmering with your cum.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “What you’re doing to me is… fuck…” You don’t have the words.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he says. “You have no idea what’s coming.”

“What?” you breathe your laugh.

“I brought you something.” Rafe sits up and you wonder what in the hell this man, who has given you absolutely everything but his heart, could possibly have for you this time.

{ read part nine here }

author’s note: credit and THANK YOU to this anon for suggesting this idea!!! YOU GENIUS. i owe u my life

[hardlypartying]

“We could do that you know?” There’s a thread of light breaking the horizon, the dark sky beginning to change. “Get married if everything else fails.”

“Sorry can’t do that,” Kiara clicks her tongue, “already made one.”

“You made a marriage pact without me?” Rafe leans back to stare at her in offense, his mouth hanging open a little. “With who?”

Read chapter 16 here

Listen to the playlist I can’t shut up about

[rafeinterlude]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Sarah Cameron : District 1 (The Moodboard) 💎

-Sarah Cameron, sister of a past victor, Rafe Cameron and daughter of the district 1 mayor, Ward Cameron. tags : @rafecameroninterlude @rafecameronsgun @haven247 @lustnluv @redhead1180 @hewwokitti -(idk if you wanted to be tagged or not)

[evansbby]

lmfao i was literally going to ask if you’d write for rafe 😭😭😭😭😭

i think you’d embody his character really well with his whole alpha low key sexist frat boy behavior (affectionately) but obviously you do you and your writing is amazing

I also knew you were gonna ask that 😂😂 I GET IT SO MUCH AND I GET IT!!! Bc his character is literally what I write my male characters to low-key be like 😭😭😭 so in theory I could write rafe well!!

I also do think he’s hot 😭😭 I just wish I had the time but I barely have time to write about ARI LEVINSON so Rafe is deffo a long shot but never say never!

[beautyinsteadofashes]

chapter three: permanent record (4x09)

People always said it’s the quiet ones you've got to watch out for. He’d never listened. He'd rather keep tabs on the showmen. Those who were compensating, exaggerating and trying to be something they weren't... Sofia had a talent for watching, waiting and choosing her words...There was something crafty about the way in which she did it...They’d leave parties together and gossip and talk shit the whole way home. Home...Fuck.

[araybiaa]

i’ve been revamping this second chapter so much 😭 and i’m still not completely done editing it but it’s getting there!

[rotting-inkblot]

Kicking my feet and giggling writing Barry cooking for Rafe and Rafe being fucking mesmerised cause the only other person that’s cooked for him were his bio-mom (and sometimes Sofia) and he never learned how to do it himself so it legit looks like magic to him

[thisismysafeescape]

I would absolutely love nothing more then to get my story out there! I've worked so hard and I am so nervous as this is my first fanfiction!! (I also would die for followers and friends)

[itneverendshere]

should've said it - rafe cameron (part two)

requested: "a Rafe x reader smut where she cheats on her bf with Rafe and at an event where she's with her boyfriend she notices Rafe staring at her and all the flashbacks leave her horny and needy for his touch and his touch only. Maybe some angst with her boyfriend catching them in the act."

part i. warnings: cheating; smut; ex friends with benefits; friends with benefits to lovers; angst!!; heartbreak; happy ending <3

After that night, every day felt like someone took a fire to the inside of your stomach.

It was hot, burning even. You were uncomfortable whenever it came because it was a feeling you couldn’t suppress. You’d felt it ever since that night, and it only ever grew as the days progressed.

You’d think a smart person like yourself would stop. Realize that what you did, what you were doing to Blake was wrong, but alas…It was hard to make any coherent thoughts or decisions when you were full of Rafe Cameron.

As in every day, every time you two crossed paths, even when you woke up, all you could do was think about him. And that stupid mouth. So, it wasn't exactly a surprise to you when it happened again, and again, and again. 

Really, at that point, you should've known better. You should’ve left this forsaken town the moment you fell into his right back into his trap. You didn’t intend to spend another night with Rafe’s cock inside you, pistoling his hips back and forth vigorously. You swore to God you didn't.

You couldn’t remember how you ended up with him. His hand was wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough so you would keep quiet, for your own sake. You were sure he wasn’t the least bit concerned about getting caught. Your lips broke away from his, but you were still an inch apart.

“We, we can’t—" You tried to say, but words turned to mumbles as he closed the gap, hips grinding into yours. His free hand tightened around your waist as your hands found home in his hair. You wanted to tense up, push him off you, to give a speech about how good your life had been since he broke your heart, but you also wanted this.

You wanted more. 

The first-floor bathroom you stumbled in, in the country club, was dangerously close to where everyone, all your friends and boyfriend, were hanging out. You could faintly hear the music blaring from the other room, the chatting, but you knew you would’ve been heard over all of that if he wanted to.

The squelching noises were probably loud enough to be heard just outside the door. This time, the sex was messy, quick, sloppy but so good you could feel your toes curling. Rafe’s mouth was attached to your neck, biting down to try to muffle his own noises.

You almost came on the spot every time he’d accidentally let out a moan. You were too far into your own pleasure to care about anything else at the moment, more specifically the set of knocks at the door.

It wasn’t until Blake’s voice sounded through your ears you snapped your head up, eyes wide.

“Baby, everything good in there? You’ve been gone for ages.”

Fuck.

Rafe lifted his head from your shoulder, merely looking at you. You could read him like an open book, so you mouthed a quick “Don’t.”

Which he ignored. You could see it in his eyes, they had this mischievous tint to them, one you hadn’t seen in years. You would’ve cursed him right out if it wasn’t for the fact your boyfriend was just inches away while your ex-something was inside you.

“Baby?”

Every nickname that came from Blake’s mouth felt like a stab to Rafe’s heart. If he didn’t care about you as much as he did, if he wasn’t in love with you, he’d go back to his old ways and make sure your boyfriend heard you cum around his cock. But he played good for you…as good as Rafe Cameron could play.

He loosened his grip on your throat and nodded his head at your unsure, terrified expression.

“Y-yeah. Everything’s fine!”

“You’re sure? Want me to get you some water?”

He brought his thumb down to your clit and you gasped before you could even process his actions. His smirk was telling enough that he was enjoying this a lot more than he should. You bit into your bruised bottom lip so hard you felt like you drew blood, “I’m fine! I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay. By the way, did you see Cameron? That Topper dude is looking for him.”

Oh, you’d seen him all right. 

“Better answer, pretty,” Rafe whispered in your ear, amusement lacing his tone. As if he wasn't dragging his cock inside you just the way you liked. Your eyes were so far at the back of your head, you shouldn't be that aroused. Your hands clamped down on his firm biceps, pussy squeezing his cock like a vice.

“H-Haven’t seen him.” You answered with whatever self-control you had left. 

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go back inside. Hurry up, you’re missing all the fun.”

You were not missing all the fun.

Rafe let out a huff of amusement at that because he knew.

One look into your fucked up expression and he knew the damn fun in question was right there, between your two bodies. That should’ve been the last time. You should’ve seen it as a warning, but you didn’t. Because whatever you and Rafe had was too good to let go. You barely spoke to each other, only lingering looks and then you found yourself on top of him, under him, on top of a counter, wherever, whenever. 

You were doing more damage to you and him than you’d like to admit, but at least you had something.

Attempting to convince yourself it was a meaningless fling was stupid. Attempting to convince yourself that you didn’t love him anymore was even more stupid. You made sure he never got the chance to open his mouth again and confess his undying love for you, otherwise you’d walk out the door.

Your mother, save her terrible kook tendencies, always told you: love was comfort and protection, nurture, and acceptance, calm and passionate, stoic, and spontaneous, generous and forgiving.

Somehow, even with no words, only actions, that’s exactly how you felt when you were with him, dreading the moment you had to make your way back to Blake’s arms. Truth to be told, you hadn’t touched your boyfriend in months. It was a miracle he was still around.

Sometimes you wondered if he got his fair share somewhere else, which you didn’t care if he did, but he seemed too nice to do that to someone.

You’d only found love with Rafe, and even then, you weren't sure if you could call it by its name since the outcome was disastrous. In your terrible efforts to cage your heart from his touch, you’d come to describe Rafe as a monster over the years, but now…now that you’re gambling with so many hearts, you’re not sure if you are any different.

You don’t feel an ounce of regret in your heart. That flash of love, anger, lust, with him…how could you ever regret something you’d been longing for? How could someone regret something that felt right? 

No matter how fleeting the moments with him were, you’d never felt so close to your element, in years. Rafe always brought your true colors, the part of you that was hidden from others. The thought of him, all of him, just the whisper of your imagination was enough to leave you in shambles. You had no thoughts, no focus, only desire and the pain of waiting since that night. You’d get your refill, and then you were back to aching. 

But the big question remained: Were you two fucking in love or fucking each other up?

Honestly, you should be mad. Furious. How could you let him stroll back into your life with absolutely no consequences? No fight? So easily? 

After the last time you were together, your phone rang for days.

Missed calls, voicemails left unanswered, texts left unread. You weren’t sure how he got a hold of your new number. You weren’t keen on finding out either. You couldn’t face him. If you pretended he didn't exist, maybe it would ease the pain.

You’d never be embarrassed about being with someone you love, but being caught cheating on the man you were dating, a rich, influential man, wouldn’t look too good to the public eye. 

Sarah’s wolf whistle shattered your daydreaming, heart jumping right into your throat, heart beating even more rapidly than when you two had been running to the party venue. 

Another stupid kook event. Couldn't say you missed them. 

“Are you even listening?”

“No? I can’t believe you dragged me out. You know I hate the country club.” You grumbled as Sarah Cameron dragged you through the doors. 

The flimsy light blue sundress suddenly felt tight around your torso and limbs. Although she guaranteed you that Rafe wasn’t attending, you couldn’t help but scan the room for his face. The last time you were here…A faint blush dotted your face as you walked past the so-called powder room and recounter a much more intimate meeting with the older Cameron sibling just days ago.

No. Stop thinking about him. 

“The country club hates us back, so what? It’s summer, you’re finally back and we’re going to get shit-faced now that I’m legal.”

“Because you’ve never had a drink before,” you sighed, sarcasm lacing your tongue as you loosened your hold of her arm. Your body automatically rested against the bar’s counter, “You forced me to come, you’re paying.”

Sarah gave you a look at that, “You’re older.”

“And?”

“Fine,” She rolled her eyes as she turned her attention to the bartender, “Two pornstar martinis, please.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her you to needed something stronger. It wasn't like you could tell her you were accidentally fucking her older brother, more times than you could keep track of...in a stranger’s bedroom, in a bathroom, in the out open sea, while your current boyfriend at the time was somewhere close waiting for you.

You really needed something to stop you from thinking, but the martinis would be sufficient for a while.

She sat beside you, leaning into your left shoulder close enough to smell her sickly-sweet perfume. Some things never changed. “So…” Sarah paused, taking a sip from her drink, honey-brown eyes seizing you up.

“So?”

“Can’t believe Rafe had to do the walk of shame because of you.”

A little embarrassment you could take. Not that though. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, something thick and rough curling around your stomach.

“What?” You tried to keep your voice light, steady even. You played nonchalantly with your fingers, trying not to pick your nails. A nervous habit you had yet to grow out. 

“He told me.”

You struggled to keep your face neutral, feeling the sinking realization that this, whatever this was, was no longer your dirty little secret. The Rafe you remembered despised his little sister and would’ve never confessed something so personal to her. 

“Told you what, exactly?”

You could barely focus on the conversation, your mind racing as Sarah moved in her seat to explain.

“I know what happened between you two when you were in college” She was frowning even as you tried to give her a trembling, sad smile, “And trust me when I say you had every right to walk away. He was a train wreck back then, as awful as they come.”

“Sarah..”

“He’s different now. Better, he even stood up to dad you know?” Sarah chuckled, knowing there was no other reason for you to be drinking that fast unless you were upset or mad, “So imagine my surprise when he barged through my bedroom last night, completely shitfaced and crying his heart out.”

Each word felt like a knife sinking into your chest. The realization that you’d hurt him suddenly, thick and sour. He cried? God, what were you thinking. You opened your mouth, but no words came out, you know you have fucked up majorly.

“He didn’t go into details, obviously,” She assured you, taking in your frenzied expression, “But I think you should talk to him.”

You felt bile rise in your throat, “I don’t think I can.”

“I love you, you know that. And I know that he hurt you, but hurting him back isn’t going to do any good to your sanity, or Blake’s.”

You grimaced, closing your eyes at the way her voice seemed to boom in your ears, “I can’t.”

You stood up then, the floor shaking beneath you. Your hand was tight around hers, your knuckles white but with every silent second that passed your fingers loosened, falling limp.  

“I don’t want you and Rafe to hurt each other.” Her voice was sharp, and in your overthinking moment, it almost sounded critical.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Do you love my brother?” She asked, attitude easing up. “If you don’t, it’s not worth it. It’s not worth ruining a relationship for someone you don’t love, trust me.”

Your shoulders sagged. You felt so tired, defeated. You softly smiled at your friend, and she smiled back, but you could see the concern in her eyes “'Course I do.”

You’d been good at pretending with Blake. Pretending you were happy when you were clearly not, pretending you were calm when you were downright furious. You pretended because, sincerely? It didn’t matter. As harsh and cruel it may sound to someone else, Blake didn’t matter, not like that and you could no longer lie convincingly to yourself.

“Have you told him?" 

“Don't need to,” you said, defensiveness creeping into your voice.

"I think he would like to know."

“We’re not really on speaking terms.”

Sarah clasped a hand on your shoulder, she knew better than to argue. She was sure you were going to figure things out for yourself, but she couldn’t help but push you in that direction, “He’s home.”

A spark of hope and fear appeared within you, waiting to ignite into a flame. You expelled a shaky breath. “Sarah,” You said, frustration rising in your belly, breaking your barely composed face, “I don’t know.”

She only hummed in response, compassion clear in her warm brown eyes as she studied you, “Just think about it.”

And think about it you did.

For another entire week. You’d always known what you really wanted, at this point you were just making up excuses to avoid the inevitable.

In the meantime, breaking up with Blake was easy and the smartest idea you’ve had in years. Straight to the point, understanding even. It wasn't like he was head over heels for you either, but you could tell he was still hurt, so you chose to omit the entire truth. You were in love with someone else, that wasmore than enough to end a relationship and should've been more than enough to not start one. 

You were a terrible person. But you were much more worried about Rafe than about your ex. You played him along the entire summer, for sex and he obeyed. Didn’t even question you or the situation once. As if he’d take whatever you gave him. But you’re going to fix it.

It was dizzying, it was terrifying, and entirely disarming. Your frantic eyes sweep back and forth between the keys in your hand, the ones that granted you access to TanneyHill’s front door and the road behind you.

In disbelief or denial, perhaps. 

How many times had you walked in here for a family dinner, betting on who would start a fight that night? How many times had you walked into this house together, bumping his shoulder playfully as you chuckled at a joke he told? How many times had you both drunkenly shushed each other, trying not to laugh too loudly after a party?

Everything in this house reminded you of him. Of you two, together.

The fight was lost the moment you walked in. Your footsteps echoed on the marble floors as you made your way to his bedroom, trying to ignore the thoughts that hounded you. You reached the hallway, intending to have a very long inner dialogue before knocking on his door. But then, you hear your name uttered so softly, from his lips. 

Slowly you turned, afraid that if you did so too fast the vision was going to disappear from your eyes all at once. You saw him standing at the threshold of the room as he had done so many times before.

A shy smile pulled at his mouth as his shocking blue eyes locked with your own. Running a hand through your disheveled hair briefly, you breathed slowly. I’m going crazy. You thought to yourself. I’ve officially lost my mind.

Rafe stepped into the room with you, closing the distance, “You’re here.” he breathed out in disbelief. 

His bedroom used to be familiar and comforting, but now it reminded you of the years you’d spent apart. You remembered how you’d sit by his window when you were fourteen and in your hunger games phase, reading the books whenever you had a free moment. 

You were his girl, and he wanted to hold you, but he fought the urge to relax into you. He didn’t realize it was going to feel like this, like his heart was screaming and wailing until it could no longer, only to start back up again as soon as it could.

You tried not to look at him, staring down at your hand instead. Your chest was heaving, and your expression had morphed from frustrated anger to one of disbelief, as you stared down at your palm.

You tried to ignore the anxious thoughts as if they are some kind of distant radio. “Sorry, I’m—I’m sorry,” You were muttering, voice timid. “I shouldn't h-have— sorry. I-I shouldn’t have—"

Rafe wrapped his arms around you in a moment and you let your head rest upon his chest. All your thoughts stopped, as if your heart took over your head when you were this close to him. Next, he squeezed you like he needed to check you were real, that you were really there with him, and you were, body and soul.

He held you so close that your own chest rose and fell with each breath he took. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, pretty,” he muttered into your hair, “I was the one who fucked up everything. I'm sorry. I hate that I didn’t fight for you. I hate that I wasn’t enough, I hate that you had to see me at my lowest point. I hate that he was with you all nights. I hated that we didn’t speak and that you didn’t look at me and that you were looking at him and—”

He was rambling now, all nonsense and tight breaths. It was heartbreaking how messed up this whole situation felt. He shook his head almost mournfully, like no matter what he’d say to you, you’d never forgive him, almost as if he was preparing himself to say goodbye to you and the possibility of the two of you.

You smoothed your hand down his back, following the curve and dip of his spine, rubbing soothing circles into the base. He seemed to melt into you at the touch, though he was careful not to rest his weight on you. You don't think you’d mind it, really. You tugged him closer, still.

“I broke up with Blake.”

Rafe couldn't help his soft gasp. Because everything he’d ever wanted was now closer than ever. But despite the growing giddiness, he needed to know what it meant, what it means for you, for him.

“What? When?”

“A week ago, after the last time we—” you paused and sighed, involuntarily stroking his back with your thumb, “I realized that this is what I want.”

“I—" he coughed, clearing the heaviness out of his lungs, “I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, and I know I didn’t deserve you, I don’t think I deserve you still, no one does. And I’ll understand if you walk away.”

His voice was so soft, and without looking at him you knew that there were tears forming in his eyes. “Don’t say that.”

“I was— um…I was an addict, pretty, you know that. I was drowning and I couldn’t let you join me,” He trailed off, timid and low as if he was afraid of scaring you off again, “I understand now, that I should’ve let you make your own decision, but I knew you were hurting, I felt it. I hated that you had to see the things I did to myself, the way I treated people.”

“You were hurting,” you grumbled, eyebrows furrowed as you placed your hands on his strong chest, pushing yourself away from him, as if his words inflicted pain in your heart. You watched a frown take over his pretty face at the loss of contact, missing your touch already, “I’m not making excuses for your behavior, you should’ve done better. But you’ve always been good to me, despite everything.”

“Not good enough baby,” He took a step forward, bringing your body flush to his once again, his hand dropping to his side as his pinky brushed delicately just across your hip bone, “I’m sorry.”

“When I got home that night, I cried my eyes out. I sat on that couch for hours, staring at the door, half-expecting you to burst through the door at any moment with an apology and kisses.”

Rafe’s eyes welled up as you spoke, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying. He almost did exactly that. You were, you'd always be, the most important person in the world to him and he’d hurt you so much. Your own tears threaten to spill. You felt his heartbeat pound again as your hands rested on his chest, “But I understand now, it’s okay.” 

You whispered, pushing your body onto your tip toes to bring yourself closer to his face. His arms found home around your waist, resting his rough hands on your lower back, now with the physical ability to hold his world in his arms, you. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Rafe admitted as if you were in your own little word. He was staring down at you, reaching down so his fingers ghosted over your cheek, brushing a piece of hair back behind your ear. You felt the flush in your cheeks instantly as if he'd never seen you naked before. “But if you let me, I’d like to spend this lifetime and the next, proving I’m good for you.”

“I’d like that Rafe,” your heart rate was so loud it would be embarrassing at any other given moment, you felt like you were going to run out of excuses and just let him take you, "A lot."

His lips twisted, trying to stop them from trembling. He’d been trying so hard, for years, to be better, to keep himself gathered, to find himself again. At the sound of his name falling from your mouth, sounding so much like love, he was able to pull himself together.

“Yeah?”

His head was swirling with a newfound desire and relief to hear you admit your feelings for him so willingly, that what he felt for you was requited in the same amount.

“Yeah.”

His hand drifted up until it cupped the side of your face, overwhelming you as he cradled you so gently. His thumb traced your jaw as his eyes bore straight into your being.

“Lemme hear you say it.”

You sighed, “I want to be happy, I want to be loved. And you’re the only person I’ve ever seen that happiness with. I love you.” Both of you close your eyes, your lips barely brushing over each other. “It’s always going to be you, Rafe.”

In a strained voice, he asked, “Really?”

You looked into his ridiculously blue eyes and nodded before he loss any sense of reality. Your heart clenched in sync with your thighs and suddenly there was nothing left to say, no other excuse to be had. 

He couldn't stop himself as his hand firmly took a hold of your neck and pulled you forward. His lips found yours and for a second you barely registered the pressure. It was delicate as if you were both sixteen again, trying to savor the first touch. 

His lips moved effortlessly against yours and you felt yourself melting in his arms, legs close to buckling beneath you if it wasn’t for his strong hold. A whimper escaped from your mouth and at the sound, Rafe pressed his lips harder against your own. You couldn't stop yourself from letting your head lull back as you felt his thumb press against your pulse. 

With a flick of his tongue, your hands digged into his back, and it pulled a groan from the back of his throat. Your hips bucked forward into his, desperate to feel anything, everything. 

At the feeling of your movement, his teeth took a firm hold around your lower lip and pulled back, releasing it with a pop. His eyes traced the way some of his saliva pooled along your lower lip and he wished for nothing more than to have this view for the rest of his life.

“I love you, pretty,” he whispered lowly, finger twisting around the string of your mini skirt, as his eyes scanned your face with the utmost softness you’d ever seen, “But I need to fuck you."

As his lips found your collarbone, his hands took hold of your thighs, and before you could process his words and you were up, legs around his hips. A small noise escaped your mouth at the sudden feeling, your feet coming off the ground, his core meeting yours. 

“Is that a threat, Cameron?”

Teasingly, his hands trailed down the outside of your thighs before firmly wrapping around your ass. He glanced up at you and smirked as you arched into him, his breath fanning across your breasts through the thin material of your top.

“It’s a promise."

[probably-writing-x]

Armour - Chapter Five

Summary: Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.

Warnings: Cursing, I thinkkkkk that’s everything?

Author’s Note: I LOVE this series and I LOVE y’all for loving it <3 thank u thank u thank u thank u

———

You’d been in the same routine with Rafe for over a month now, constant calls, constant conversation, constant effort. And it had got to the point of feeling like second nature - like your hand reached for the phone at the same time every day when you knew his shift would be ending, you cooked your food and knew to wait for him to finish cooking his before you’d both facetime and start whatever film or episode you’d picked for the day. Since that one random day, he hadn’t said ‘i love you’ again, and you were yet to say it back. So far, you were sticking to your promise of waiting to see each other.

It was a strange feeling, really. You’d been single for two months now, though it hadn’t really felt like the kind of single you expected you’d be. You thought you’d still be crying if you thought about it, or you’d be scrolling through old photos on your phone acting like they were memories you hated, fearful of every day you were having to spend alone without the person you’d spent nine years of your life with. But… you were okay. You slept just fine on your own, you ate in restaurants and in cafes alone, you were experiencing a new city by yourself. And it was in those moments, all of the little bits that made up a day, where you truly realised that you’d moved on from James. Part of you would probably even want to thank him for ending the relationship when he did, maybe it was the best thing he could’ve done for you. You felt like yourself again.

Where Rafe fit into that new version of yourself was something that you hadn’t yet decided. It worked strangely well with the two of you thousands of miles apart, would things change when you were back to being at home. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. Were you fooling yourselves to think that it would ever be the way it was when the two of you were younger?

—__—__—

“(Y/N) hurry your ass up!” Rafe hisses from the car, quietly screaming into the air.

The passenger door is open and he’s leaning over the console towards the empty seat, watching as you tug your shoes on at the door, stumbling over untied laces to find your jacket and keys. There’s a mess of blankets tucked under one of your arms and you grab a pillow from where you’d left it on the stairs before hurrying out towards him.

“Shhh,” You hiss in return, tossing your stuff into the back seat of the car before climbing in.

Rafe had passed his driving test only two weeks before, and his father had bought him this truck almost instantly - you’d joked about him being spoilt but you weren’t exactly complaining now that it finally gave you the freedom to do things like this. Right now, it was 4:45am and the two of you were sneaking out to drive over to the far side of the island to watch the sunrise. If your parents knew that you were going, they’d give you the talk on how you had to watch yourself with Rafe - how you had to keep a fair distance from him. So far, you were yet to listen to that advice.

“You know, I still don’t trust you to drive,” You shake your head, resting your feet up on the dashboard of his car.

The summer heat was stifling in the Outer Banks this year, and even at this hour of the night, the windows of the car were rolled down to try and alleviate some of the burning in the air.

“Oh yeah? Don’t trust me?” Rafe raises his brows at you, gripping the wheel a little tighter as he swerves the car left and right down the street.

“Rafe!” You exclaim a hand reaching out to grip his arm.

He laughs a little, the kind that creases his eyes briefly. Rafe straightens up the car and glances away from you to focus back on the road, “You can trust me. Just get your shoes off my dash.”

—__—__—

When your phone rings a few days later, you don’t expect to see Cleo’s contact flash up on the screen. It’s late over there, and even later over here. You’d been fully asleep when the phone had first rang, fumbled around on your nightstand to find your phone and eventually managed to answer the call before it rang out.

“Hello?” You croak out, flicking on your bedside lamp as you prop yourself up in the bed, your mattress practically begging for you to return to sleep amongst the sheets.

“(Y/N)!” She exclaims excitedly on the other end of the call, “I’m so sorry, I know it’s late.”

“No, no,” You clear your throat, blinking the sleep from your eyes, “Is everything okay?”

“Well…” She pauses like she’s waiting for someone, “We’ve got news.”

“We?” You frown, dragging a hand through your messy hair.

“We’re engaged!”

Both her and Pope’s voices speak at the same time, only half a second delayed from each other as his voice trails to finish the phrase just after she had - but both of them sharing the same excitement in their tone that seemed to radiate through the screen.

“Oh my god I-“ You exclaim with as much energy as you can muster, “Congratulations!”

“Thank you!” They both say in return before Cleo continues on her own;

“We just couldn’t wait to tell you. Please tell me you’re coming home soon, we need you here to celebrate!”

Your eyes trail over the dark shapes of your room, barely visible in the low light, but they eventually settle on your laptop set out on the small desk occupying one wall of your bedroom. In a few clicks you could have the flight booked. Your Air BnB reservation ended in two days anyway, and you hadn’t exactly thought of what you’d do after that. The thought of going home had been one you’d been putting off for a long time but you had to bite the bullet eventually. Going back might make you stop running from it all, but maybe you didn’t need to be running anymore.

“Um, yeah, yeah, definitely, I’ll be home soon.”

—__—__—

“Rafe I swear to god you’re taking up way too much space,” You nudge at his side again and again as he laughs beside you.

“I’m not doing anything! You’re just dramatic,” He points out, “You’re going to miss the sunrise at this rate.”

“Move over!” You exclaim once again, trying to push his form towards the other side of the truck.

The two of you had set up your makeshift camp in the open back of his truck. There’s a single pillow propped up behind you, in the middle so that both of your heads could rest on it, and the blanket was sprawled over the top of both of you - though Rafe was probably taking more than half of it.

“There’s no space!” He shakes his head, stretching up one of his arms to tuck under his head, his hair flattened against the bend in his arm.

“You’re the worst,” You roll your eyes at him, eventually accepting defeat as you shift to lay back down in the space next to him.

You’re at a weird angle with the pillow shared between you and your neck is crooked to try and keep a good enough view of the sky in front of you. For now, the view was still littered with stars, but they’d disappear soon for the sun to instead break over the horizon. It was peaceful, nobody else on the island would be up this early. There was something about that for you and Rafe - a comfort you found in nobody else. He was your best friend, though you would never admit that to Sarah.

“Okay, question,” Rafe comments, “Do you think you’ll stay here after school ends?”

“Here?” You frown, both of your eyes staring at the point where the water met the sky.

“Yeah, here, in the Outer Banks.”

You take a deep breath. School finishing was still over a year away - that felt like a lifetime. Anything could happen between now and then. But the thing about living in OBX was that it generally felt like nothing ever happened. You couldn’t imagine being here forever, but you couldn’t exactly imagine being anywhere else.

“I don’t know, maybe,” You return, “Would you?”

He doesn’t respond for a little while but you watch his shoulders shrug when you turn your head towards him, “I guess, I’ll have to be here to take over from Ward anyway.”

Both of you fall to silence and somewhere in the calm, you move your head to rest on his shoulder. It’s comfortable, like it grounds the two of you in the moment - both forgetting completely about the discomfort of the entire setup you’d made in the truck. Rafe tilts his own head so that his cheek rests atop your head, seemingly melting his form against you like he relaxes completely.

“I couldn’t imagine being here without you,” Rafe mumbles into the dead air, “I don’t think I could be anywhere without you.”

As he speaks, the first glimpses of sunlight poke above the clear horizon and spill onto the water. They catch on the flat waves and dip over to reach you, brightening the air around you.

You take in a deep breath and lean closer against him, “You’d be lost without me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I would be.”

—__—__—

There aren’t any direct flights between London and Norfolk, of course, and it feels weird when you arrive at JFK - so close to Rafe and yet incapable of seeing him. He was in meetings all day today and apparently it was something really serious, though he told you it was way too boring for him to explain to you. With the flight times and shitty service, it had been a while since you’d spoken to him anyway, but it felt weirder than ever to be going back home now. You didn’t feel like the same person you were when you left, and it felt like your entire life had changed in the last couple of months. But you were going back home, more sure of yourself than ever.

The taxi drops you just outside of Sarah and John B’s house and you drag your suitcase along their driveway with a strange anticipation.

Before you can even knock, the door swings wide open.

“Oh my god you’re really here!” Sarah exclaims, her arms outstretched wide to hug you.

You grin and drop the handle of your suitcase, hurrying over to her. You hug her cautiously, her bump swollen in the space between you - much larger than when you’d seen her last.

“I’m so happy you’re home,” She lets out a sigh of relief against you, “I missed you way too much.”

You laugh and step back from her, looking down at the bump, “And everything is going well?”

“Yep, two months to go, nursery is pretty much done now,” She smiles, “And if John B makes any more furniture for the baby, we won’t have any space in the house.”

“Did you expect anything different?” You smile.

She leads you inside and tells you that your old room is still there for you, obviously. And it feels like a little piece of you has returned home, truly.

—__—__—

The sun has fully risen before either of you think to move but you start to hear the way Rafe’s breaths even out beside you. Somewhere between the night meeting the day, his arm had moved from his side to wrap over you, his hand resting across your torso. You hadn’t thought to move it - it just felt natural. He’s snoring just slightly, barely audible, but it seems to rumble in the air between you as his head snuggles against yours.

You tilt your head just slightly, enough that you can catch a glimpse of him. His soft features. The way his cupid’s bow dips prominently above his lips, shadowing over where the slightest hint of stubble grew across his upper lip. His hair needed cutting but he hadn’t thought to worry about it yet. His eyelashes look longer than ever as they fan down to cast shadows just over the faint dark circles under his eyes.

In that moment, you know. You’d stay here if he was here, you’d go if he left, you’d want him to follow you if you went. Because home wasn’t in so-called ‘paradise on earth’, or with your family or by yourself - it was with him.

In your movement, he stirs from his slumber and his lips part with a groan, stretching beside you as his arm disappears from your torso, leaving a hot mark in it’s absence. He stretches his legs out and his arms extend above his head until eventually his eyes follow suit and open too.

“What time is it?” He mumbles through his fatigue, blinking against the now blinding sun.

“Um, like nine I think,” You return, leaning up onto your elbows.

“We should head back,” Rafe grumbles, pushing himself up to sit, the blanket falling around his hips, “Good to go?”

“Um, yeah, yeah, sure,” You nod, shuffling yourself out of the back of the truck and following him around, going your separate ways to the driver and passenger seats.

The two of you drive home quietly as the rest of the town starts to wake up around you, businesses opening and cars passing by you on the busier roads. Rafe taps his hands on the wheel in time to the quiet music coming through the speakers, and every so often he hums along, silencing when he pulls into your driveway and puts the car into park.

“Okay, now I have a question,” You speak into the space between you, leaning your head back against the headrest of your chair.

“Go ahead,” He leans his head back too, rolling it so that his eyes are focused on your direction.

“Did you mean it earlier? That you couldn’t imagine being here without me?”

Rafe laughs lightly but you’re sure you catch the sight of his cheeks turning just a little bit pink, “Are you kidding? There’s nobody else that I like here.”

You smile a little and bite your lip so that it doesn’t extend too far onto your face, “I jus-“

“This place is unbearable, you know that. If you weren’t here I’d be bored out of my mind,” Rafe continues, “Then again, I can’t imagine you want your entire life to be here. You’ll go to college, probably find someone, settle down somewhere that’s not here.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, “Yeah, yeah, maybe.”

“You know Sarah thinks there’s a guy at school that likes you, maybe you should go for it,” He persists, raising his eyebrows at you.

You can’t quite figure out the expression on his face, one that seems as though it’s hiding the slightest glimpse of pain. But Rafe was always good at hiding his emotions.

“A guy at school?” You shake every other thought out of your head, the slightest quiver in your voice that you try to avoid focusing on, “Did she say who?”

“Some guy called James,” Rafe traces his finger over the curve of his steering wheel absently, a sort of glass look to his eyes.

“Oh, right, I didn’t know,” You clear your throat, “Maybe you’re right - maybe I should go for it.”

—__—__—

“Is this okay? Or is it too fancy?” You brush your hands over the material of your dress, checking it over in the mirror once again.

You were getting ready to go to the engagement party that Pope and Cleo were hosting at his parents’ house. They’d told you to dress fancy but you never really knew what that meant with this group - JJ would likely still show up in shorts.

“You look gorgeous!” Sarah exclaims, fixing her hair in the other mirror - getting ready like this felt like being back to when the two of you were younger, gossiping over things that were likely to happen at the next party, dreading the thought of seeing people you hated.

You’d opted for a flowy silk dress, one that Sarah had in her closet but had never worn. It hugged your curves and flowed airily around your legs, thin spaghetti straps either side of your chest. Your hands brush over it once more before flattening over the slick back bun of your hair, tilting your chin to check your light covering of makeup.

“Okay, okay, I’m ready,” You nod, oddly nervous to see the people that had known you for a short forever.

It didn’t feel like you were the same person that they’d known before, just slightly changed in every aspect by the loss of what you thought was your future, perhaps changed even more so by the realisation of what you really wanted instead.

You grab your bag from the bed and follow Sarah downstairs to where John B was waiting with the car already running, engine humming impatiently in the air.

It’s a short drive across the island to where Pope’s family home was and John B parks the car amongst the few dotted vehicles of people that were already there - JJ’s bike is on the far side against the porch, accompanied by the similar one that he’d got for Kie, spending months working on doing it up.

You follow Sarah and John B across the way to the front door, already open to let in the air and the flow of people coming to congratulate the happy couple.

Instantly, you’re met with Pope and Cleo as soon as you enter, their faces lighting up at the sight of the three of you.

“Congratulations!” You all say in chorus, enveloping the couple into some sort of group hug in a mess of all of your arms.

You jumble through questions of ‘how did it happen’ ‘did you cry’ ‘what did your parents say’ before spending at least a minute in awe of the ring decorating Cleo’s hand - it had belonged to Pope’s grandmother.

“Well, we bought you these to say congratulations,” John B holds out the flowers in front of him, a bouquet wrapped in brown paper .

“That’s so sweet of you, thank you!” Cleo beams, “Would you mind putting them over on that table? I’ll go get you guys some drinks too, what do you fancy?”

“I’ll take them,” You offer to John B, taking the flowers from him along with the couple of cards you were already holding.

There are already bouquets of flowers lined up along the table, along with a few cards all expressing different forms of congratulations. You set the flowers into one of the available vases already filled with waiting water and make sure they look somewhat presentable against the other fancy bouquets. Just as you go to set down the two enveloped cards, your eyes brush over the ones already there. There’s one from Pope’s parents with a heartfelt message that almost brings a tear to your eye, another from JJ and Kie with a message along the lines of ‘fucking finally’. But there’s one out of all of them that catches your eye - handwriting you’d never forget.

To Pope and Cleo,

Congratulations to the two of you on your engagement. You were meant to find each other .

Rafe

There’s a lump in your throat before you’ve even scanned the words, reading them over again just to make sure the name was what your mind was telling you it was. No. He must’ve just sent it in the mail. Right? It could’ve got here in that time. Then again, this was the Outer Banks - nothing ever ran that fast. Maybe he sent it as soon as they told him. Maybe?

“(Y/N)?”

It’s John B that speaks up from behind you and you can’t help the flinch in your shoulders as he snaps you from your thoughts.

“Everything okay?” He says as you turn around, a frown settling between his brows, “Pope and Cleo said everyone else is outside - I thought I’d come and get you before we went out.”

“Right, yeah, of course,” You clear your throat, “Sorry, just looking through the cards.”

“I got you a beer, is that alright?” He outstretches his arm to you with a cold bottle of beer held in his grip.

“Perfect, thanks,” You offer a smile in return, taking the drink into your hand to slightly mask the shake of your fingers.

You follow behind him through the house until the two of you reach the final room and he stops in his tracks, so abruptly that you almost knock into the back of him.

“What are you do-“ You’re cut off as he steps aside, far enough for you to see what stood right in front of him.

There’s a lump in your throat almost instantly, a sort of numbness in your entire body, a determined focus on not dropping the bottle in your hand as the cool condensation seems to itch at your skin.

He’s there. He’s here. He’s home.

His hair is shaved now, cropped short against his head, and there’s a tan to his skin seemingly enhanced by the cool grey of his suit, the crisp white of his shirt. His eyes are on you and only you.

Somewhere in the moment, John B has made himself scarce, sure that each other are all you need in this moment.

“I took a wrong turn on the way to work,” Rafe says nonchalantly, his lips curling into a smile as he speaks.

You laugh gently and set your bottle down on the nearest surface, stepping across the short distance between you to wrap your arms around him quickly, finding their way around the back of his neck.

Rafe chuckles gently against your ear as his head dips into your shoulder, arms around your waist strong enough to lift you up from the floor.

His laugh in your ear breaks into a symphony around you, like an entire chorus has just begun as the simple sound of his joy. A symphony for him. For being home.

“Why didn’t you say?” You pull away from him enough to look at his face, scanning his features, your hands on either one of his shoulders.

Rafe shrugs gently, hands settling on your waist, “I didn’t decide until you were already on your flight. And then I just left, I just knew I had to be here.”

“I can’t believe yo-“

He hears your voice crack over the words and takes it as his instant task to stop your tears.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Rafe shakes his head, “I’m mainly here to see Pope.”

You laugh and the tears in your eyes seem to settle, sniffing them back just to be sure before you step reluctantly away from his arms.

“It’s really good to see you,” He confirms with a sincerity you couldn’t even try to deny.

It lights up a smile onto your face that you were sure wouldn’t ever be matched by anyone else, a brightness only he brought to you.

“Yeah, it’s really good,” You nod, hand slipping down from his chest.

He catches it before it falls completely to your side, lifting up your hand in his as he laces your fingers together, squeezing gently before pressing a kiss to the knuckle of your ring finger.

Rafe doesn’t need to say more, and neither do you. It’s enough in that moment, nothing else needed. Your hands drop back down to your sides, still laced with his as he picks your drink up from the counter and hands it to you, leading you out to the group outside.

It was an odd feeling really - not a single one of them commented on it. Nobody thought to make a corny comment about the two of you, or pick up on the way he stood so close to your side, the way he looked at you when you spoke, the way his eyes lit up when you laughed. Because, for the first time, all of this felt just a little bit natural - like the two of you starting to gravitate towards each other. And all of them were happy to let it finally happen.

For the rest of the party, you and Rafe mingle separately around the crowds. He speaks to Sarah about how the pregnancy is going and tells her he still can’t believe it is happening. You talk to Cleo and Kie about starting on wedding plans, and Kie says she can’t even start to imagine what JJ will say in his best man speech. They ask you about London and tell you that you looked the best you’d ever been - and you agree, it’s the best you’ve felt. JJ jokes that James would be kicking himself for the next decade for losing you. It’s another realisation that you’ve moved on when you don’t feel anything at the mention of his name.

Eventually, darkness starts to slip over the garden and the warmth of the sun slips away just a little.

“Hey,” You’re greeted by the feeling of a hand pressed against your back, soft and certain against the dip towards your lower spine.

You turn your head slightly and glance at Rafe, his form towering over behind you.

“Fancy getting out of here for a bit?” His face has that same boisterous energy that he had when the two of you were seventeen, the same brightness in his eyes.

“Okay,” You hum in response.

He slips his jacket off from around him and sets it over your shoulders, squeezing the skin before his hands leave you.

With that, you follow him out around the back of the mingling crowd of people, down towards the side of the house that would lead out down to the water.

“It’s crazy seeing them two engaged, isn’t it?” You comment, “And with Sarah and John B having a baby.”

Rafe nods, matching the stride of his steps to walk alongside you, “A lot is changing, we’re all growing up.”

You laugh and follow him down the dock, watching the way the moonlight seems to reflect from the water and into his eyes. He sits down on the edge of the wooden dock and stretches a hand back for you to sit down beside him, helping you lower yourself to the makeshift seat.

It’s peaceful, the sky and the sea quiet around you.

“So,” Rafe nudges his shoulder against yours, “Are you happy to be back?”

“It’s nice, it’s comfortable, you know?” You nod, your hands in your lap.

All of you wants to reach out to him but there’s a slightly irrational side of yourself that is scared to, fearful of overstepping a line that neither of you had drawn.

“Yeah there is something nice about coming here, knowing everywhere, knowing everyone,” Rafe continues, “I know when the sun sets and what stars you can see, which route gets you home faster away from the tourists.”

You laugh, “Yeah, I don’t think anywhere in New York would get you away from the tourists.”

“I liked New York,” He persists, “It was a good escape.”

“Was?”

“Well, I can’t just leave my job there or anything, but I don’t need to escape anymore,” He smiles gently at you, dimples prominent on either side of his cheeks.

Both of you fall to silence again and he reaches over to take your hand into his, still resting the interlocked hands over your lap.

He’s certain then, as he’d been certain with so many other things recently, that he knows it. He knows that this is all he’d been waiting on. A moment of peace, with you, your hand in his. Knowing you were here, that you were home.

“Do you remember when you first got your car?” You say quietly, letting the words catch on the breeze in front of you, “When we used to sneak out together.”

He chuckles deeply, “Of course I do, I’d come and pick you up in the middle of the night and we’d find the sunrise.”

You nod, “There was one day we went and you fell asleep on me and I remember laying there and thinking then that I knew. I knew that I wanted to be with you, that I wanted you by my side.”

“But I-“

“You drove me home and in the car you told me that I should give James a chance,” You swallow the lump in your throat, staring at an unmoving spot in the water, “I went out on my first date with him four days later. I knew I was in love with you and I still went with him.”

“Why didn’t you-“

“I was so terrified of losing you as a friend that I spent that entire first date convincing myself that I liked him and I didn’t need to love you. And I did the same on our next date too, and again and again and when he asked me to be his girlfriend I said yes without a second thought because part of me really believed that I could do it - that I didn’t need to love you anymore,” You let out a shaky breath, “I was kidding myself for nine years.”

Rafe looks down at your hands intertwined and smiles to himself, a little laugh passing his lips.

You turn your head to look at him, hints of a frown toying between your brows, “Are you laughing at me Rafe Cameron?”

He turns to look at you, “I told you to wait until I saw you for you to tell me that you loved me, and I think you just did.”

You can’t help the ferocious heat that claws at your cheeks and you bite at your lip to stop your smile from spreading too widely over your face, “I think I just did.”

Rafe grins, releasing your hand from his to cup your chin between his thumb and forefinger, drawing your focus solely to him. Slowly, but with nothing short of certainty, he pulls himself in towards you, eyes flicking down to your lips before he presses his against yours in the softest kiss the world can muster. It’s gentle and calm, and your hand moves up to grip his shoulder as if the contact needs to ground you into this exact moment. He deepens his kiss against you, fingers shifting from your chin to around your jaw, fingers stretching to the back of your neck as his thumb caresses your cheek, fingers gripping you into him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” He half laughs as he pulls away, his forehead pressing into yours, lips curling into a smile as his breath fans hot over your skin.

You laugh and bring your hands to either side of his face to hold him in your grasp, as if reminding yourself he was really there.

“God, I love you (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

———

Taglist: @viianey @baby19sthings @tsokaro @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @starkeylover @kylianswag @eggingamazinglove @allsmilesreally7 @m-indkiller @maybankslover @shara-ne

[nadvs]

cam girl (part six)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You don’t remember falling asleep. That’s how exhausted you were from your time with Rafe.

As you slowly slip into consciousness, your body feels loose and buzzing. Your core is trembling and you slowly catch on that you were having an erotic dream about him.

Your eyes flutter open, realizing your sex dream isn’t a dream at all. Rafe’s head is moving under your white comforter between your legs, his warm tongue flattening against your clit.

Your fatigued mind puts it together. He spent the night. He held you as you slept. And now he’s eating you out.

“Oh, fuck,” you chuckle breathily, writhing. “Oh, my God.”

“Finally,” he mutters beneath the cover, taking his mouth off of you to speak. His warm breath spreads over your pussy. “I can’t feel my fucking jaw anymore.”

You’re still in your big t-shirt, but you realize he took your panties off.

“Rafe,” you whine, feeling dizzy. Is he seriously waking you up with head? Holy shit.

“You always such a deep sleeper?” he grumbles. He dips to use his tongue on you again, circles swirling over you. His arms are hooked around your legs, large hands splayed on your inner thighs.

“Hmm?” you mumble, lost in the way he’s tonguing you. His mouth closes around your clit, then he pulls back to talk again.

“Do you always sleep so fucking deeply?” he repeats, his tone stern. His morning voice is raspy and deep and so hot that it’s painful.

“Only when I get really good dick the night before,” you say. You can’t help but take the opportunity to mess with him. “So, it’s weird I didn’t wake up right away.”

Rafe stiffens, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he pulls his mouth off of you.

“I’m joking,” you laugh. You pull the cover up to see his face between your legs. God, he looks so fucking cute, his expression completely unimpressed. “Please keep going, baby.”

“Listen, if you wanna fuck with me-“

“Rafe,” you giggle. “I promise, you’re the best I’ve had. Please keep going.”

“The best?” he echoes, eager for you to stroke his ego.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a better orgasm than the one you gave me last night,” you say, totally honest.

“Huh. Maybe that should be the last one I give you if you’re gonna be such a brat.”

You know he’s just messing with you, but the thought of ending whatever this is with Rafe makes your heart pinch with sadness.

“What then?” Rafe challenges.

“Then I’ll swear off dick forever,” you reply.

You’re pleased when you see his eyes crinkle as he laughs, the sound so sweet. It’s different than the lust-filled, teasing chuckle you hear when you’re fucking. This one is innocent. Genuine.

“Say sorry for joking like that,” he orders you.

“Sorry, baby,” you smile.

“That’s what I thought,” he scoffs, amused. You keep the cover lifted to watch him put his mouth on you again.

You spread your legs further apart, arching your back as he tongues you, reaching every dip between your folds.

You put a hand in Rafe’s hair, feeling the softness of his locks between your fingers as his head moves slowly.

He’s absolutely devouring you. It’s unlike his usual speed and roughness. He’s savoring this.

You keep your gaze on him, euphoria filling every curve of your body. He tilts slightly to meet your gaze, blue eyes locked on you as he laps at you, long and slow.

His nose presses against your groin, the sound of him sucking you filling your bedroom. You run the heel of your palm over his head, caressing him, realizing this is the gentlest, most affectionate thing you’ve done to him.

You dart your gaze to the ceiling. You’re taken aback at your own tender gesture. Why you touching him like this? Like he’s someone you’re dating instead of casually fucking?

Because he cuddled you to sleep last night. That must be it. His big, warm, bare chest was pressed against your back, arms encircling you, legs tangled together as you dozed off. He acted like a boyfriend and not the fuck buddy he is. Your body is just confused, you tell yourself.

You shut your eyes and focus on the way his mouth is suckling and working you, sending waves of easy, soft satisfaction through you.

“You’re really good at that,” you breathe, almost wishing you wouldn’t cum so he’d do this for hours.

“I know, baby,” Rafe murmurs.

You know he’s being his usual cocky self, but the fact that he’s so skilled should serve as a reminder. He’s experienced. He fucks around. He wants to own you, but he never said anything about you owning him.

This is just fun, you tell yourself. Just fun with a nice monetary reward.

His lips lock on your clit, sucking harder. As his finger slowly sinks into you, tingles go up your legs.

“Rafe,” you breathe, bucking your hips.

“You like that?” he encourages. “My good fucking girl.”

The hand on your thigh grips you tighter as he adds a finger, curling into your pussy and pushing in and out of you.

The next time his mouth circles your clit, you know you’re close.

“Like that, like that,” you whimper.

“You gonna cum for me?” he teases. “You’re clenching around my fingers.”

He sucks your clit hard again and the climax rips through you. You feel yourself twitching as you cum on his mouth.

Rafe groans against you, licking and sucking until you’re so overstimulated that you have to squeeze your thighs and wiggle free.

“Can’t take how good it feels?” he asks, provoking.

“Fuck,” you laugh. You press your palms against your forehead, throwing your head back and breathing deeply. What a way to wake up.

“Get on your stomach,” he instructs. He sits up, the blanket falling off of him. He’s wearing what he fell asleep in: nothing but his briefs, his bulge jutting out beneath the fabric.

You find the strength to turn onto your front, the movement making you realize how sore your ass is from the way he pounded into it last night.

Your cheek is pressed against your pillow and his cock slides in through the valley where the backs of your thighs meet, pushing into your cunt. You inhale in unison at the sensation.

“Fuck, it’s like you…” Rafe rasps. “Like you were fucking made for me. So fucking perfect.”

You arch your back so that he can get inside as deep as possible.

His movements are slow and deep at first, but build into rough, sloppy thrusts, making your bed squeak.

The way Rafe fills you feels so damn good. If he wanted to spend all day in your bed, fucking you over and over again, you’d happily agree to it.

Rafe’s breaths get faster, his groans get deeper, and he empties himself inside of you with a shudder, his hand squeezing your hip so hard that it hurts.

You’re bruised there from last night, you realize.

You never like the feeling of him leaving your body, and thankfully, he doesn’t do it just yet. Rafe simply lays on top of you, shifting a bit to the side so he’s not putting all of his weight on you.

His cheek is pressed against your shoulder blade. His hand on top of yours is directly at your eye-line as you rest on your pillow. You love those hands.

It’s Monday. You have class. You have to be a functioning person today. You don’t remember setting your alarm last night and you have no idea what time it is.

But you just started your morning by getting eaten out and fucked and Rafe’s warm, large body is shielding yours, so the idea of getting out of bed isn’t appealing in the slightest.

He’s still inside you.

You think back to last night, the way he fucked you from behind, how big his fingers around your neck and inside you were and how hard he slapped your ass.

“What’d I do to deserve you spanking me last night?” you ask.

“Poor baby,” he mocks. “Is your ass hurting? Need me to rub it?”

You feel him shift behind you, his hand sliding off of yours, palm going down your back and over the curve of your ass.

In the movement, his softening cock starts to slide out of you. You involuntarily let out a small, unhappy cry.

“What?” Rafe asks.

“Nothing,” you lie.

“Why are you whining?”

“Just… don’t like the feeling of you pulling out,” you admit.

“Oh, my God, so needy,” he jeers. “Wish you could have my dick in you all day, huh?”

You don’t deny it.

To your pleasure, Rafe lies back down, pushing the rest of himself into you again.

“You deserved getting spanked because you drive me fucking crazy,” he drawls. His hand rubs big circles on your naked ass.

“It’s not my fault you want me so bad.”

“Yeah, it is,” he mutters.

You finally find the will to pick your phone up from the nightstand.

You see that you’ll need to leave your place soon if you want to make it to your first class. But you’ll make it as long as your shower is quick.

You open your text conversation with Rafe, holding your phone low so he can’t see what you’re doing.

“Might wanna check your phone,” you say quietly.

You don’t want him to pull out of you, but it’s inevitable. He gets up with a grunt, making you feel incomplete without him inside you. You look over your shoulder when he’s lying down again, phone held out.

The phone looks so small in his hand. God, when did a man’s hands have such an effect on you?

Rafe smirks at his screen, turning it towards you.

“Watch this,” he says. You see the $50 request you just sent him, your text “for spanking me” right below it. He taps his thumb on ‘Reject.’

“You asshole,” you laugh. Then the top of the screen catches your eye. He has you saved as ‘princess’ and the contact photo is the booty pic you sent him yesterday.

“Rafe, that is unhinged,” you say, pointing to the photo. “You have to be joking. What if someone sees that picture?”

“Lucky them.”

You can’t help but laugh. At least this reminds you of what you are to him: a piece of ass. You officially push away the hope that you’re anything more. And a part of you even wishes he doesn’t do something sweet like staying overnight to keep you warm again. If he continues playing his horny sugar daddy role, and does no boyfriend shit like that again, the hope can never come back.

It’s better to be realistic.

“I have to go,” you complain, pushing yourself up. You turn to sit, your feet touching your floor, stretching your arms above your head, with your back to Rafe.

“Don’t do too much today,” he says. You turn, watching him pull his underwear on.

“What are you planning to do to me this time?”

He turns his lean frame to look down at you, his tongue jutting under his cheek in a way you can only describe as utterly mischievous.

“I’m gonna try to make you squirt.”

Your cheeks flood with warmth. This man is going to destroy you.

“’I’ve never done that before,” you say.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t.” Rafe hikes up his jeans and collects his shirt off the floor. “And if any guy can do it for you, it’s the one with the best cock you’ve ever had.”

“I regret telling you that,” you tease.

He bends over your small bed, pressing his palm to your cheek. His eyes travel over your face, smirking, looking like he’s imagining all the things he’s going to do tonight.

“See you tonight, princess.”

He leaves, and you’re still trying to catch your breath.

Your day of classes is tiring, your body still sore and reeling from Rafe having his way with you. You barely make it home for the maintenance guys to fix your radiator.

You sit in your kitchen, trying to study as they clang their tools and talk to each other in your bedroom.

It takes them two hours, finishing up in the evening. After they leave, you savor in the feeling of a warm room, Rafe’s money having solved one of your most expensive problems. It’s so simple, but so nice.

You lie in your bed just to rest your eyes.

You’re suddenly startled awake. Your room is pitch black and a slamming on your front door makes your heart pound in your chest.

You sit up, trying to gauge your surroundings. You check your phone to see it’s half past ten and you have three missed calls and a string of texts from Rafe.

Another sequence of pounds on the front door erupts. It must be him.

You rush to your front door and look through the peephole to confirm it’s Rafe, his jaw clenched in anger. You missed your nightly appointment. He seems pissed. Excitement bubbles inside you.

You crack open the door, meeting his eyes. He shakes his head at you, nostrils flared, and he pushes his way into your dark apartment.

Rafe slams the door behind him, hand roughly grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks together, your lips jutting out.

“Where the hell were you?” he demands, looking down at you.

“Fell asleep?” you say weakly. He’s fuming - he likes to feel like he owns you and today, his personal pornstar didn’t obey him.

“I pay you to get in front of that camera on time.”

“You’re mad,” you tease, a smile uncontrollably growing on your lips. “Are you gonna punish me?”

Rafe tightens his grip on your face and you rest your hands on his firm forearms, feeling him pull up, beckoning you onto the tips of your toes. You’re already soaked.

“I’m going to fuck you in every hole,” he mutters, “and you’re fucking dreaming if you think you’re cumming tonight.”

“What?” you plead. “You said tonight, we’d try-“

“You think you deserve that?” he interrupts. He releases you, pushing you back. “Get in your fucking room. Go.”

You obey, feeling Rafe’s hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you into the space. He turns the light on behind you, surely wanting to see every inch of you while he makes you pay for flaking on him.

You hear his belt unbuckling behind you and he presses up against you, his cock hard between your asscheeks.

“Get naked,” he instructs. You bend to pull down your pants, take off your top, and strip entirely bare.

Rafe sits at the edge of your bed, palming himself over his briefs, his eyes locked on yours.

“Crawl to me,” he says. You drop to your knees, obeying him, stopping once your head is between his legs. He pulls his briefs down, his cock swollen.

You don’t need him to tell you the next instruction. You eagerly put your hand at his base and your mouth over his tip, spitting on the head.

“Yeah, get it really fucking wet,” he mutters. “You’re gonna choke on it.”

He groans when you close your lips around him, cheeks hollowing. You imagine him sitting on his bed tonight, waiting for you to log in, his dick hard and getting no attention, growing angry when you weren’t showing up.

You’ve never felt so craved by somebody before.

Rafe puts his hand on the back of your head and pushes you down to take all of him, hitting the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex.

“That’s what you fucking get,” he tells you. You look up at him, eyes trailing up his toned stomach and up to his face. He looks so pissed off and so horny all at the same time. You squeeze your thighs together.

“Do I have to do it myself?” he scoffs, tugging at your roots and pulling you back.

“No, I can do it,” you say, muffled against his cock. You push back down, taking him all in, back curling as you gag on his slick length.

You grip him and start bobbing, moving your fingers off every time you reach his base, lips flanged around him.

“Faster,” he orders. You pick up your pace, spit dribbling out of your mouth, prompting you to slurp up the mix of saliva and precum.

“Fuck…” he groans. He pulls you off his dick, your lips popping off him. “Suck on my balls.”

You hungrily push his cock up, digging your head between his legs to put your mouth on his soft flesh, slurping.

“Shit,” he breathes out of pleasure. You feel proud of yourself for making him forget how angry he was so quickly.

Until you realize it wasn’t that easy.

His hand frames your face again, pads of his fingers digging into your cheeks, stopping you.

“On your back,” he says. “Right there, on the floor.”

You’re trembling as you shift back, laying on the hard floor, spreading your legs for him. He gets down to hover over you, his cock in his hand.

Rafe taunts you, bouncing the tip against your clit. Your body jolts at the feeling.

“You’re not gonna cum,” he warns you. “I know how this pussy feels when you’re close and I’ll stop.”

“Rafe,” you beg. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I swear, I-”

He plunges into you, cutting you off, his hips immediately hitting yours as he bottoms out. You throw your head back as he tears into you, his girth forcing you apart.

He thrusts hard and fast, fully rage-fucking you, taking his anger out with every move, and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever done to you.

“You want me to call you a good girl, don’t you?” he asks.

“I am a good girl,” you shudder, knowing it’s not true, saying it only so he’ll fuck you harder.

“No, you’re fucking not,” he laughs. You look down to see the way his cock is disappearing into you over and over again.

The tension in your gut is coiling tighter. You try not to make it obvious that you’re close to cumming, keeping your eyes low. But your body betrays you. The second your walls start to flutter around him, he pulls out.

“You’re not cumming,” he says. “I already fucking told you.”

This is not the Rafe who cuddled you to sleep last night. This side of him, the insatiable, animalistic side, is simple and only wants one thing. It’s so intoxicating being used by him.

“Ass up,” he says. You know he’s about to fulfill his promise of fucking you three different ways and you can’t wait.

You’re shaking as you spread your knees as much as you can, waiting on all fours, feeling his thumb pad rub up and down over your asshole.

“Can you take it without the lube?” Rafe asks.

This is the bullshit that makes you worry you’ll start liking him. Why can’t he just fuck you how he wants without worrying that he’ll hurt you? It’d be so much easier to not like him if he was cruel and selfish all the time.

“Do it,” you whisper depravedly, frustrated that your thoughts are getting carried away.

He pushes into your asshole, making you cry out in discomfort. The pressure stings as he fills you and you instinctually dart forward, your body trying to prevent any more pain.

“It’s hurting you,” he realizes, quickly pulling out.

“Rafe, just keep going,” you say, looking down at the floor. “Please.”

He buries into you again and you bite your lip hard. He starts to pound into you, balls hitting your pussy, hands gripping your hips.

You let out guttural moans with every pump, praying it’ll end, yet at the time, wishing he won’t cum for another hour. It’s such a good hurt.

Your elbows weaken and you collapse, pressing your forearms onto the hard floor. Your knees are burning in pain, your asshole strained, and tears start to leak out of your eyes as he thrashes mercilessly.

Rafe’s cock starts to spasm inside you, and after one last powerful thrust, you feel his hot, sticky cum flood you. His groan is the deepest, sexiest noise you’ve ever heard from him.

He trembles through some aftershocks, like he wants to give you every drop, then pulls out of you. You go limp, eyes shut, lids against your forearm.

You’re panting hard, sweat sheening your skin, and drop to your side, completely fucked out.

You feel his cum drip down the curve of your ass.

“Get up,” he says. You can’t.

Suddenly, his hands cup your waist, pulling you up.

“Come on,” Rafe says quietly. “Get up.”

You find your footing and he guides you to your bed. You’re a trembling mess as you lie down, curling onto your side, eyes closed, tears hot.

You can’t control the sniffle that shakes through you.

“Whoa, you’re…” he whispers.

You open your eyes to see him sitting over you, his face flushed. You find the strength to pull the comforter up to your eyes, hiding them as you nuzzle into your pillow.

“Hey,” he half-whispers. “You’re crying.”

“I’m just tired,” you say with a defeated laugh.

The room is quiet until you feel the mattress shift, its springs squeaking. Rafe settles behind you and you’re cold for a moment as he lifts the sheet off you. But then it’s on you again, his body curving around you, the comforter covering both of you.

You feel his hand come down your waist, your stomach, your thighs. He starts to gently rub between your legs.

He already told you that he wouldn’t let you orgasm, so you know he’s doing this to continue the torment.

Still, you shift onto your back, spreading your legs open for him, eyes closed as you breathe through the sensation of the pads of his fingers spreading your lips apart to fondle your clit.

You feel Rafe move over you, holding one of your breasts to close his mouth around your nipple. You shudder at the bliss he’s offering you, even though you’re painfully aware that he won’t let you reach your peak.

His fingers move expertly while his tongue flicks up and down and side to side, covering your nipple with his spit.

The stimulation of both his hand and his mouth makes the tightening in your stomach come quickly, and as you arch your back and start to breathe shallower, you’re surprised that his hand moves faster and his mouth sucks harder.

You moan as the orgasm hits you and he rubs you throughout the entire climax. Once you let out a final sigh, you open your eyes.

Rafe’s head rests on the pillow when he comes back up. He’s looking at you with half-closed lids, lying beside you.

“I thought…” you say, a smile pulling on your lips. He knows what you mean. You thought he wasn’t going to let you cum.

“Changed my mind.”

You know you’re not in the right headspace when you wonder if he did that out of guilt for fucking you so hard that he made you cry. That that was his special way of apologizing. But this is Rafe. It can’t be that. He’s simply enjoying keeping you in his control.

“I might miss our sessions more often if this is what happens,” you say breathily.

“Don’t,” he warns.

“I’ve never seen someone so angry,” you tease.

Rafe turns his head, looking up at the ceiling. You see his jaw tighten, clearly recalling how pissed off he was at you.

“I didn’t know where you were,” he said.

“I was right here in my freaking bed, Rafe,” you laugh. “Dead asleep.”

“No, it’s…” His brows furrow. “Some guys came to fix the heat today, right? And you were here all alone and…”

Realization hits you all at once.

“You were… worried they did something to me?” you ask. “And that’s why I didn’t show up?”

Rafe just shakes his head in disbelief again, mouth firming. You watch him in awe. Was that what got him so worked up?

You picture him at home, getting angrier with every minute you were late, and then the possibility of something like that happening to you suddenly popping in his mind, making him go batshit.

“Rafe,” you say with a small smile, genuinely endeared he was concerned about you.

He sits up, looking at you with an angry grimace.

“Why the fuck are you acting like it’s funny?” he snaps.

“I’m not,” you say softly. “I’m-”

“Next time you say you’re gonna be somewhere, be there,” he states coldly.

You feel like you have whiplash. You were just having fun with him. Now that you brought up why he came over in such a frenzy, he’s pissed off again?

Rafe stands, giving you a view of his naked body as he rounds your bed and picks up his briefs. He doesn’t make eye contact with you when he pulls his jeans on or puts on his shirt.

He doesn’t say a word as he storms out of your room. You simply hear your front door open and shut.

You’re left lying in bed, jarred over what just happened.

Working at the Cameron household, you caught little glimpses of the family’s home life and have heard your fair share of Rafe’s yelling. You knew he had a temper to him. But the way he just left, mood shifting so suddenly, is still shocking.

You don’t hear from Rafe the rest of the night. Or the next morning. Or afternoon. You’re not sure if he’s giving you the silent treatment or simply doesn’t feel the need to talk to you unless you’re fucking or you have a camera facing your half-naked body.

You sit on your bed at 10 pm, laptop open, unsure if he’ll even show up tonight. And if he doesn’t, what’s it going to be like when you go to your shift at the estate tomorrow?

But then you hear the familiar chime.

figure8 has joined the session.

“Hi,” you say, breaking the silence in your bedroom. “You still mad at me, baby?”

He doesn’t respond.

“I’m sorry,” you purr, pouting. You sit up, pulling your panties up tight, making sure he sees the outline of your lips under the silk. “Are we gonna try to make me squirt or no? I’m gonna need your help.”

figure8 tipped you $1000.

figure8: stay just like that. im coming over

{ read part seven here }

[instructionsnotincluded]

Wild Winds

Chapter XIV

Excerpt:

They worked in harmony for a good half hour, Logan only speaking when she needed to ask him to move or hand her something, and she was in the middle of muddling some mint for a mojito when she saw none other than JJ Maybank wander over, dressed out of his uniform and in a worn blue button down shirt and cargo shorts. “How long are you working today?”

“Until three,” Logan said. “Why? What are you doing?”

“Gonna be at John B’s tonight,” JJ said. “Ellie’s changing and then we’re gonna head over to the Chateau.”

“Yeah? Big night planned?” Logan leaned forward on her elbows. 

“Oh yeah, breaking out the Monopoly box.”

Logan snorted, rolling her eyes, “Uh-huh. Try not to break the law, alright? We don’t have money for bail.”

JJ laughed but only winked in response, “Depends how heated the game gets, you know?”

Logan did know. She knew very well how much trouble a group of teenagers could get into when they were supposed to be playing games.

[twinklelilstarkey]

I just started the new obx season and girl- why does this season actually seem good? 😭

[hardlypartying]

“There’s, um,” He has never seen her fumble with her words, Rose taps her nails on the metal arms of the chair, “I have your mother’s ring— if you should ever want it.”

Astonished, Rafe cannot find himself able to respond to that. His head is full of cotton candy and his stomach suddenly sits still. His throat bobs with the words that won’t come to him.

“I saw the way you two were today and,” Rose bites her smile and nods at Kiara, “I’ve never seen her like that, or you for that matter.”

“I— it’s,” Rafe’s mouth opens and closes, completely losing all sense of articulation. Words leave his mouth with no idea what they’ll form. “I’m… we—”

Rose grimaces apologetically, knowing she’s just pulled the rug under Rafe. “I understand it’s early. You and Kiara probably don’t want to think about all that but, just wanted to let you know. It was always meant to be yours. I don’t mean to scare you or anything.”

There’s anything but fear running through him. Only the same weightlessness he felt when he broke his leg as the adrenaline pumped through his body to protect his mind from the pain. There’s no pain now, never was, just the absence of any fears because there’s something even more powerful coursing through him.   

Read chapter 17 of Kiara and Rafe’s Comprehensive Guide here