#rage cameron x you
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cam girl (part four)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
summary you work two jobs. by day, youâre a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, youâre 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, youâre not sure what to do next.
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You donât know how you got through the rest of your housekeeping shift after being with Rafe. You donât even know how you got through the rest of the day.
He still wants you to host private sessions for him, still wants to pay to watch you do things to yourself. So here you are, obeying him as usual, sitting on your bed, in front of your laptop, dressed in white lingerie and aching for a release.
figure8 has joined the session.
figure8: hi princess
âDonât âhi, princessâ me, Rafe,â you say. âYou have any idea how I feel right now?â
Youâre still so pent up from how be denied you an orgasm earlier that day. After work, you tried to study, but you were so distractedly horny.
Still, you listened to his instructions not to give yourself the release you needed until you were on camera with him tonight. And even through the frustrating anticipation, knowing your next orgasm has his name on it, knowing he wants to dominate you like this, is so gratifying.
figure8: someoneâs grumpy
figure8 tipped you $500.
figure8: feel better?
You stifle your smirk.
âCan I open this yet?â you ask, holding the box he gave you, still sealed.
figure8: you dont have to hide your face anymore
You instinctually arranged yourself how you always did when you set up your camera, but you realize heâs right. Heâs seen your face already. Heâs seen everything already.
You reposition to show all of you on the screen, viewing the mirror image, the pout on your face apparent.
figure8: my pretty girl. i cant stop thinking about how your face looked covered in my cum today
You canât control your smile at his message. Shit. You were supposed to be mad at him.
âSpeaking of cummingâŠâ you say slyly. âWhen can I?â Your confidence is always so high, your attitude so ballsy when youâre on cam.
Itâs like the real you comes out, no inhibitions whatsoever. You still canât believe how speechless he had you in his bedroom earlier today, but you know the next time you see him in person, youâll be able to talk to him the way you always do on during your video sessions.
figure8: open the box
You sigh a breath of relief, pulling off the pink bow and taking off the cover. On a bed of white silk lays a small, pink c-shaped sex toy. You turn it over in your hands, trying to see how it works. The chat chimes.
figure8: you look so cute trying to figure it out
âStop teasing me,â you tell him.
figure8: no
You continue to study the item Rafe bought you, slowly understanding what part is supposed to go inside of you and what part is supposed to go against your clit.
But there arenât any buttons.
âHow does this work, baby?â you ask, your frustration dissolving as curiosity takes over.
figure8: ready?
Seconds later, you feel the toy buzz in your hands.
âAre you⊠controlling this?â you ask, amused. You would have never expected Rafe to be so kinky.
figure8: get naked and put it in your pussy
Eagerly, you strip off your bra and panties, spreading your legs in front of the camera like youâre straddling your laptop.
figure8: wait
You sit with your legs spread, feeling your eyebrows furrow. Heâs making you wait again?
figure8: just want to look at that sweet pussy again. you tasted so good
You think back to Rafeâs head between your legs earlier that day, the way his mouth lapped and fluttered over your folds.
You can see on the screen that you have small marks on the inside of your thighs. He left hickies on you with all his teasing. He put marks on you, like he promised he would.
âYou like when I do this, donât you?â you ask, pulling your pussy lips apart.
figure8: iâm hard as fuck
âYeah?â you coo. âYou ate me out so nice today. Hopefully next time youâll let me finish.â
figure8: so desperate for me
You put your hand at your center, rubbing right where youâre throbbing to at least ease the pain just a bit.
âCan I use the toy, baby?â you try to sweet-talk him.
figure8: go ahead. put it in and stay sitting just like that
You pick up the silicone toy, sliding the bottom part into your hole and shuddering. The top curve rests against your clit and you sit back, hands behind you as you support yourself.
figure8: i love seeing that cunt full
âWhen is it going to be full with your dick?â
figure8: when i say so
You sigh and grind your hips forward. The toy gently buzzes inside of you and you dip your head back, a choked moan spilling out of your lips.
The vibrations are rhythmic and far apart, but at least youâre finally getting some stimulation.
The other part of the vibrator starts moving, suctioning over your clit. The sensation of both ends working you, of knowing Rafe is controlling it on the other side of town, lying in his bed and watching you with his hard dick in his hand, adds to how hot all of this is.
You arch your back as the toy buzzes and sucks and you start to roll your hips.
The chat chimes.
figure8: keep your eyes on the screen so u can see how pretty u look when youâre moaning
âOkay,â you obey breathlessly. You watch yourself on the screen, tits out, pussy squeezing around the toy Rafe bought you.
He keeps the same low setting on for a few minutes and you softly moan through the sensations. He knows this isnât enough to make you cum but you donât want to whine.
figure8: ready for more?
âPlease,â you plead. The buzzing in you grows stronger, your walls clenching around the toy. âShit, Rafe.â
figure8: feels good?
âSo good,â you sighed. âSo fucking good.â
figure8: play with your tits for me, princess
You sit up, putting your hands over your chest, fondling your breasts. You pinch your nipples and rub your fingers over them.
figure8: my good girl
The vibratorâs buzzing gets even more intense and you squeeze your legs together to get the most out of it.
The toy immediately stops moving.
âRafe,â you groan.
figure8: you didnât listen
âSorry, Iâm sorry,â you shudder. You spread your legs for him again and look at the screen at your own desperate expression. Thankfully, you feel the toy move again, but itâs at the low setting you started at.
You wonât complain. Heâll delay the orgasm even more.
Eventually, youâre at the second level again and you quiver at how good it feels.
âCan we go a little faster? Please?â you purr, the knot inside you tightening.
figure8: god i thought i could do this but i canât. where are you. i need to fuck you
The message makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. The thought of him pounding into you on your bed, of you not having to make yourself cum with your hand or a toy, thrills you.
âNow whoâs impatient?â you ask with a smirk.
figure8: whats the address
âLet me just type it out for you,â you say slowly, enjoying this small window of control youâre in.
You type it out in seconds, but keep your hands over the keyboard before sending it to purposely make him wait, tits squeezed together up to the camera for him to see.
He only messages your name and you laugh at his neediness. Then a second message comes in.
figure8: youâll pay for this
âScary,â you mock. In reality, youâre really excited to see what punishment looks like to him. You finally hit the enter key.
figure8 tipped you $1000.
Rafe leaves the chat.
The fact that he still paid you is a pleasant surprise. In just a few days, youâve fattened up your bank account quite nicely just from pleasuring yourself for him.
Thereâs a knock at your apartment door after what feels like an eternity. You open it a few inches, peeking out to see Rafe, and you shield yourself with the door as you open it to avoid anyone else in the hallway possibly seeing you nearly naked.
You figured there was no reason getting fully dressed, only putting your panties on.
With how much he loves to tell you he owns you, youâre sure Rafe wouldnât take it well if a neighbor accidentally saw you exposed. He wonât even allow you to cam for other guys anymore.
You lock the door, leaning back on it with your arms crossed.
He towers over you, his presence so damn demanding in your tiny apartment. Your whole place would fit in his bedroom. He probably hasnât ever been inside a home this small.
His eyes are fixed on your tits, the burning in his eyes giving you a warm sense of satisfaction.
âWhat was it that made you need to come fuck me yourself?â you ask with a smirk.
Maybe itâs because youâre in your own home, but now you have the confidence to tease him how you always do on cam, the shock of him knowing who you were during your sessions now worn off.
Rafeâs clearly amused, closing the distance between you, placing a hand up on the door as he dips his head to look down at you.
âYouâre acting like you werenât just asking when you can get my dick inside you,â he says, voice deep and dripping with desire. His lips curl into a smile, his perfect teeth peeking behind them.
Your fingers feverishly find the hem of his t-shirt and you start to pull it up, hungry to see him naked again.
âCanât wait for it, can you?â Rafe asks, standing straight and bunching the fabric between his shoulder blades, pulling the shirt off for you and dropping it.
âIâm not the one who just drove all the way over here to fuck,â you taunt. Your eyes fall down his toned chest, the ridges of his abs. âAnd Iâm needy?â
You love this back-and-forth power struggle with him. Itâs like a game, a competition to see which one of you is more desperate for the other.
And honestly, it feels a little like payback for the orgasm he denied you today.
He brings his hands up your sides, sliding up to your tits, putting his cool palms on your chest and squeezing and fondling in a way that makes you sigh with pleasure.
âI have to fuck that attitude out of you,â he huffs. You giggle at his words, feeling your core pulse with desire.
Before you started anything with him, you thought Rafe was just another privileged, entitled asshole whoâs painfully hot and knows it. But youâre actually having fun with him, teasing each other like this.
Your hands wander over his hard chest, smoothing over his worked out pecs.
âYou can try,â you retort. He leans down and locks his lips on yours. His body curls up against you, your back pressed against the door as he grinds against you, his cock hard.
His hands cup your ass and he suddenly hikes you up. You wrap your arms and legs around him, your damp panties pressed against his hard stomach.
You dip your head into the crook of his neck and he smells like expensive cologne and salty sweat and man, making the tension coil inside you even tighter.
âShow me where you fuck yourself for me every night,â he orders, breath hot against your ear.
You pull back to meet his eyes, looking down at him through heavy lids. You wordlessly motion to the open door into your bedroom.
Rafe carries you through your apartment and lowers you onto your bed, hovering over you as he continues to kiss you roughly, tongue tumbling with yours. He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, the twinge of pain mixing so well with the pleasure.
You feel his hand rest on your pussy and your nerves are on fire.
âThis is mine,â he rasps against your lips.
âYours,â you say.
He rubs over your panties in broad circles, dipping his head down to your collarbone, tongue slowly darting out as he sucks. Youâre sure heâll leave another hickey on you.
You feel him press his finger over your hole, nudging the fabric of your panties against you.
Youâve officially lost all your patience.
âPlease fuck me,â you say. Youâre not even being needy because he likes it - you are fully desperate. âIâll beg as much as I need to, okay? Just⊠please. I need you so fucking bad.â
Rafe pulls away, looking down at you in the dim light of your bedroom. His smirk is so damn smug and so damn arrogant. Youâre stroking his ego and he loves it.
âI told you that youâll pay for that little game you played,â Rafe threatens.
âRafe,â you moan, squirming below him.
âI thought you might touch yourself the second you got home⊠but I can tell you listened to me.â
âI did,â you reassure him. âDo whatever you want to me. Just let me cum.â
âWhatever?â he echoes, dimples taunting you. You bring your hands up to his shoulders, nails digging into the back of his neck. This is fucking torture.
âAnything, Rafe,â you promise.
âWhat if I want you on your knees so I can fuck that pretty mouth as hard as I want?â The thought makes you feel like youâve entirely drenched your underwear.
âYes, yes,â you say, nodding desperately. âPlease. Anything.â
He laughs so damn pompously and degradingly, like your need for him is comical.
âItâs not funny,â you whine.
âIâd be balls deep in you right now if you didnât fuck with me,â he tells you. You regret not just giving him your address immediately. Teasing him wasnât worth it.
He gets up, taking his hand off your pussy and encircling your wrist, beckoning you to sit up.
âOn the floor, princess,â he instructs.
You quickly settle on the rug next to your bed, knees on the floor and hands on your lap as you look up at him.
Rafe stands and unzips his jeans in front of you and pulls them down, left in gray briefs that do no work hiding the thick shape of his dick.
When he takes off his last piece of clothing, his cock bucks out, precum already leaking out the tip. You could tease him about how horny he is for you, but you know better.
He starts to slowly stroke his length.
âEyes up,â he says. You obey and look up at him, knowing the amused, perverse way heâs gazing down at you will not soon leave your memory. You donât want it to.
He pats his dick on your parted lips, your bottom lip quivering beneath the weight of it.
âYou sucked it so good today,â Rafe taunts. âAnd look at you doing it again. You like this cock?â
âI love it,â you tell him.
He pinches your chin so youâll open your mouth wider and slowly pushes himself in, his breath shaky as your mouth takes him all.
The base of his cock presses against your nose and you squeeze your fists tight, pussy aching in need. As bad as you want him inside of you, this feeling is so fucking perfect.
He puts his hands on the sides of your head, thumbs pressed on your temples.
âYouâre gonna keep that pretty mouth open just like this, okay?â he instructs.
You nod, mouth full.
He pulls back, then pumps back into you. You gag and you hear him groan.
âThat fucking soundâŠâ he says.
He bucks in and out again, faster this time. You close your eyes from the pleasure of being used by him like this.
âEyes.â His voice is husky. You meet his gaze again. âGood girl.â
Rafeâs pumps start to speed up, the tip of his dick sliding deep in your throat. His grip on your head tightens as he starts to lose himself in the feeling, his groans so damn hot that you wish you were recording this so you could play it back the next time youâre touching yourself.
But then again, it seems like Rafe has full control over when and where and how you masturbate.
He keeps fucking your face and you choke again after a deep thrust, starting to slobber on his cock. He pumps once more, deep, and you let out a strangled gag, tears forming.
He pulls out suddenly, his eyes frantically searching yours.
âIs it too much?â The concern on his face, the fact that heâs checking in on you like this, makes you realize just how wrong you were about this man. He is so much more than you thought.
Even in the eroticism of the moment, your heart feels like it flutters from Rafeâs display of care.
âNo,â you tell him, wiping the spit around your mouth off with the back of your hand. âKeep going.â
He enters your mouth again and you fucking love it. The way he tastes, how hard he is, how smooth he is. Itâs perfection.
Rafe returns to his fast pace, rocking in and out of your mouth, his eyes on yours the entire time. After a few more thrusts, he takes out his wet cock and puts one hand on the base of his length and the other at the back of your neck.
âYou need to be fucked, donât you, princess?â he asks.
âPlease,â you whisper, anticipation bubbling inside of you. Finally, his cock will be right where you need it.
He applies pressure to the back of your neck, beckoning you to stand. On weak knees, you lift yourself up and let him guide you down onto your bed.
You lie on your back and Rafe leans down to slide his fingers under the band of your panties. You put your legs together so he can slide them down and off of you.
The mattress sinks as he bows to lie over you, his hands on the bed at either side of your head. You gaze up at him, the planes of his cheeks, the slope of his nose.
âYouâre fucking beautiful, you know that?â Rafe rasps.
Youâre thinking the same thing about him, but youâre so starved that you canât say a single word.
Your cunt is dripping and goosebumps spread across every inch of your naked body. And youâve never been happier that youâre on the pill, so you can feel him fuck you without a barrier.
One of his hands dip low to guide himself into you and you swear that you can see stars once you feel his tip nudge against your opening.
You shut your eyes and hear his sharp intake of breath as he enters you fully.
âGod,â you shudder, the weakness in your voice shocking you. Nobody has ever had this effect on you, felt this nice in you. âOh, my God.â
âShit, thatâs so fucking good,â he praises, bottoming out inside of you.
It hurts a little at first. You expected it with his size. But your body adjusts quickly and you feel nothing but bliss.
You find the strength to link your legs around him tightly, trapping him, afraid heâll tease you again.
âItâs okay, baby, Iâm not going anywhere,â Rafe says with a chuckle, bending to press his lips against yours.
His weight is on you, his dick is filling you, his lips are pulling yours, and you want to stay in the moment forever.
He seems to savor the feeling of being inside of you for a moment, and then pulls back and plunges deep inside you again. You turn your head to the side, away from his mouth so you can speak.
âHarder, please,â you beg impatiently.
âWe have all night,â he says. You can feel his smile against your cheek.
You let out a hopeless whimper and he seems to have a moment of sympathy, realizing just how tortuously heâs been teasing you.
Rafe pulls back then rocks back into you harder, jolting your body with pleasure. The bed starts to squeak as he rolls his hips, thrusting in and out of you.
You groan, hooking your arms around him, hands pressed on his shoulders. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot on you.
His muscles flex under your palms as he jerks his fat cock into you, rubbing against your walls, reaching deep inside you.
âYou like that?â he whispers, his hot breath pressing on your neck.
âYou fill me up so nice,â you moan. âFuck, Rafe.â
âThis pussy is so fucking perfect,â he says.
He straightens, holding himself up with locked arms, gazing at you with heavy lids, looking drunk off the feeling of fucking you. Your tits bob up and down with his rough movements, your chest heaving.
âPlay with yourself,â he tells you. âYou deserve to cum nice and hard, princess.â
You smile gratefully and immediately circle your clit with your fingers, the sensation mind-blowing. Rafe continues to pump in and out hard, looking down as you touch yourself, getting a private show out of you even in person.
He watches you in what you can only describe is awe, and dips his long forefinger inside your mouth. You wrap your lips around his finger, sucking on it as he thrashes into you.
You feel yourself inching closer to your peak. You shut your eyes and arch your back, lips parting as you pant with each thrust.
A million fireworks explode inside of you when you finally cum. You clench around Rafe and feel him go even harder when his hot liquid pools into you.
Heâs breathing just as hard as you are when he slowly pulls out. You hate the feeling of him leaving your body.
He collapses beside you, both of you looking up at the ceiling as you come down from the high.
You could pass out in seconds and you figure Rafe is not the kind of guy that cuddles. But because of the rough neighborhood you live in, you need to make sure the doorâs locked behind him.
Before you can figure out how to ask him if he wants to stay, knowing heâll say no, you hear a dreadful rattle.
âFuck,â you groan.
âWhat was that?â Rafe asks.
âMy heat just broke again,â you say. âThe radiator is shit.â
You mentally go through the catalogue of what you need to do - find your extra blankets, bring out the space heater, keep trying to turn on the radiator even though you know itâs pointless.
âAgain?â
âMy landlordâs an ass. Heâs supposed to fix it but never actually does.â
âSo⊠what?â
âWhat do you mean?â you turn to look at Rafe, the soft lighting in your room casting shadows on his pretty face.
âWhat do you do now?â
âBundle up,â you say with a defeated chuckle. âIt usually starts working again in a few days.â
âDonât you⊠canât you call someone?â he asks. What a rich person thing to say. Call someone. The answer to everything.
âItâs too expensive,â you say. âAnd itâs not even on me. My landlordâs supposed to do it.â
âItâs, like, thirty degrees outside.â Youâre not sure if heâs teasing or laughing at you right now, but you canât take it. He can berate you all he wants sexually, mocking how much you want him, but your financial situation isnât on the table.
âI know you love to give me shit, but donât⊠not over this, okay?â you say.
Rafe nods quickly. Youâre not sure if this means he was about to mess with you about it but wonât, or if it means he wouldnât taunt you about it in the first place.
âHow much would it cost? To fix?â he asks.
âI had someone come look at it a while ago and it cost $200 just for him to tell me itâs a $3000 fix since itâs such an old system.â
âThatâs nothing,â he says.
At this point, you have to laugh. He is so fucking out of touch.
âRafe, how much do you think I make cleaning your house?â you ask. You hope you donât have to spell it out for him. Youâre a maid. For fuckâs sake, you started to get naked for strangers online to make extra money. Youâre clearly not in a great spot financially.
And sure, his tips are helping to cover bills, but you still have tuition and loans and rent to worry about.
Rafe doesnât say anything. He just looks back up at the ceiling, giving you a chance to gaze at his profile.
This man doesnât know how good he has it. Heâs never had to worry about the cost of home repairs. Or rent. Or bills.
You knew Rafe was from a different world. For fuckâs sake, you cleaned his mansion twice a week - you saw the life he lived. But this makes you see just how far removed he is from what life is like for somebody like you.
âYou gonna get on camera for me again tomorrow?â he finally asks. You canât help but laugh. His mind is in the gutter. Of course. You knew not to expect much from him.
âSure, baby,â you say. âI like that toy you got me. How do you control it?â
âOn my phone,â he says. He shifts in bed, getting up, and you figure this is the end of the night.
You yawn and try to will your tired body to sit up. But Rafe lies back down, his phone in his hand. He must have taken it out of the pocket of his jeans.
He opens an app in front of you, showing the buttons on the screen that trigger different modes. If you werenât so exhausted from how hard he fucked you, youâd probably ask to play with it right now.
You watch him close the app and tap on the green âPhoneâ app. He hands it to you.
âHere,â he says. âPut your number in.â
Caught off guard, you take Rafeâs phone - the newest iPhone, of course - and type in your digits. Why would he need to contact you outside of the cam website?
Probably for booty calls like these. This guy is only keeping you around to watch you on cam or fuck you. He only has one setting. Horny.
Then Rafe gets up again, and this time heâs clearly ready to leave, pulling his briefs up. You take a moment to appreciate how nice his ass is.
You wrap one of your smaller blankets around you and follow him out to your front door.
Rafe bends to pick up his shirt off the floor and you notice the logo as he pulls it on. That shirt he carelessly tossed to the ground costs the same as your rent. Probably more.
He turns to look at you, his frame large, his hand on the doorknob.
âThis was fun,â he says. âNext time, Iâm fucking you from behind.â
âDeal,â you say with a playful shove.
After showering and brushing your teeth, you get out the extra blankets and the loud, old space heater you keep in your closet.
You settle into bed, taking out your phone to set an alarm so you can wake up early tomorrow and get a head-start on studying.
A notification on your screen shocks you. An unknown number sent you $3000.
{ read part five here }
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Burning the Line
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x best friend!Reader
Summary: What started as a no-strings-attachment is quickly spiraling out of control. You and Rafe Cameron had rules, but rules were meant to be broken. As jealousy ignites, emotions boils over, and fists fly, youâre left questioning if youâre ready to risk your friendship for something neither of you can ignore anymore.
Warning(s): SMUT â oral sex, p in v penetration (wrap before you tap it, yâall), dirty talk, a bit of degrading kink. Substance use, jealousy, possessiveness, violence, toxic dynamic. Minors do not interact, please! 18+ ONLY!
Word count: 7.5k
A/N: Iâve used Grammarly to correct things so if thereâs anything weird, blame it on that bot. Donât forget to check my masterlist and maybe show your girl some feedback. Love yâall!
Rafeâs new place was alive with music, laughter, and the buzz of expensive liquor. The air inside was stifling, a haze of cigarette smoke and sweat from too many bodies crammed into the space. You nursed your drink, eyes scanning the crowd for no one in particular. Well, maybe someone in particular. But youâd rather die than admit it.
Rafe had been making the rounds all night, charming the crowd in that cocky, effortless way he had. His arm had been slung around Sofiaâs shoulders not too long ago, and youâd tried to convince yourself it didnât matter.
Youâd known they were hooking up. It wasnât a secret â not that Rafe had ever been shy about the girls he entertained. But this? This felt different. Too comfortable. Too prolonged. Rafe Cameron didnât go back to the same person more than twice, three times max. Except for you.
That thought had always given you a strange sense of pride, something youâd never admit out loud. Heâd been with you more times than you could count, and while youâd both sworn it didnât mean anything, part of you had held onto the idea that it was different with you. That you were different.
But seeing Sofia press herself closer to him, her lips lingering on his ear as she whispered something only for him, made your stomach churn. It wasnât just casual flirting â it had an air of possession, like she thought she had him. And the worst part? He didnât seem to mind.
When Sofia kissed him, it was the final blow.
Her lips captured his like it was the most natural thing in the world, her hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. And Rafe didnât just let it happen â he kissed her back. His hand tightened on her waist, pulling her flush against him, his other hand resting on the back of her neck as though he was guiding her.
You swallowed hard, the burn of jealousy clawing at your chest. You told yourself it was just Rafe being Rafe, that heâd get bored of her eventually. But the kiss felt like it was lasting too long. Too intimate. Too much.
Your breath hitched, and you looked away, the sight of them together too much to handle. You gripped your drink tighter, the cold glass digging into your palm as if it could ground you, but it didnât help. The ache in your chest only grew, and before you could think twice, you tipped the rest of your drink back, letting the alcohol burn its way down your throat.
Slamming the empty glass onto the nearest table, you forced yourself to move, the heat of the room and the weight of their kiss suffocating you. Without a word to anyone, you pushed your way down the hallway and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you.
You leaned against it, your breathing shallow as you tried to compose yourself. But no amount of deep breaths could erase the image burned into your mind â Rafeâs hand on Sofiaâs waist, his lips moving against hers like she was the only person in the room.
Staring into the mirror, you barely recognized the frustrated, jealous girl looking back at you. This wasnât supposed to happen. You werenât supposed to care who he kissed or how many times he went back to her.
But you did. And that truth was harder to swallow than the drink still burning in your throat.
You werenât his girlfriend, not even close. Just⊠friends. Friends who had been tangled up in bedsheets more times than you cared to count, friends who couldnât seem to keep their hands off each other after a few too many drinks. That was it. That was all.
It wasnât long before it swung open and before you could shout that the bathroom was already taken, there he was.
âBeen looking for you,â Rafe said, shutting the door behind him with a subtle smirk.
âWhy? Thought Sofia had you busy.â The words left your lips with venom, barely able to hide it.
He smirked, stepping closer, and you hated the way your body reacted to his presence, like it was wired to his every move. âSheâs not my type. You know that.â
You rolled your eyes, leaning back against the counter. âThen why were you all over her?â
He took another step, close enough now that you could feel the heat radiating off him. âWhat, you jealous?â
You scoffed, but it came out weaker than you intended. âShut up, Rafe.â
His smirk widened, and before you could say another word, his hands were on your hips, his lips crashing against yours.
It was all heat and desperation, months of tension spilling out as he pressed you against the counter, his hands gripping your waist like he was afraid you might disappear.
âAdmit it,â he murmured against your lips. âThis is about her, isnât it?â
âShut up,â you snapped, pulling him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair.
He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. âYouâre so full of shit, you know that? You care who Iâm with.â
âI donât,â you lied, pushing him back slightly, though your hands stayed on his chest. âWeâre just friends, Rafe. Friends whoââ
âFriends who what?â he interrupted, his voice sharp now, his blue eyes blazing as they locked onto yours. âFriends who fuck? Friends who canât go a week without tearing each otherâs clothes off? Thatâs not friendship, and you fucking know it.â
Your heart was pounding, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts. âYouâre drunk,â you muttered, though the words felt hollow even as you said them.
âAnd youâre a coward,â he shot back, his hands gripping the counter on either side of you, caging you in. The air between you felt thick, electric, like the room itself was alive with the tension crackling between you.
âRafeââ
âYou feel it too,â he said, his voice softer now, though no less intense. âYou can pretend all you want, but youâre lying to yourself if you think this is nothing.â
For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The party, the music, the laughter â it all faded into the background as his words hung heavy in the air.
You wanted to argue, to push him away, to deny it all. But instead, you pulled him closer, your lips finding his again in a kiss that was equal parts frustration and surrender.
Maybe you were lying to yourself. Maybe you had been for a long time. But in that moment, with his hands on your skin and his breath mixing with yours, you couldnât bring yourself to care.
His grip on your hips was bruising, pulling you flush against him, leaving no room for air or thought.
âAdmit it,â Rafe growled against your lips, his voice rough, raw. His hands slid up your sides, pushing your shirt higher, fingers digging into your skin like he was trying to ground himself â or break you.
âAdmit what?â you bit back, shoving at his chest even as your legs locked around his waist, holding him in place. âThat youâre a smug asshole? That you think you can push me around?â
He grabbed your wrists, pinning them against the counter behind you with one hand, his lips curling into a dangerous smirk. âYouâre so full of shit,â he said, his breath fanning over your face, his free hand trailing up your thigh. âYou think you donât care? You think I donât see it? That I donât know you?â
âLet go of me, Rafe,â you hissed, though the words came out weaker than you wanted, trembling with the electricity coursing between you.
âMake me,â he shot back, his voice dark, taunting. His lips crashed against yours again, his hand leaving your thigh to grip the back of your neck, forcing you to meet his intensity head-on.
You twisted your wrists, trying to break free, but his grip held firm. You hated the way your body betrayed you, heat pooling in your stomach even as you told yourself you wanted to push him away.
âWhy do you always have to ruin everything?â you spat when you finally managed to pull back, your chest heaving as you glared at him.
âMe?â he barked out a bitter laugh, his forehead pressing against yours. âYouâre the one who keeps lying. To me. To yourself. You think Iâm ruining this? Newsflash, sweetheart, youâre the one fucking things up.â
Your jaw tightened, the words hitting too close to home. âYou donât know what the hell youâre talking about.â
His grip on your wrists loosened, but only so he could grab your face, tilting it up so you couldnât avoid his gaze. âDonât I?â he challenged, his eyes blazing. âThen why are you still here? Why are you letting me touch you like this?â
You opened your mouth to retort, but he kissed you again before you could get a word out, his lips moving against yours with a ferocity that stole your breath. His hands were everywhere â your waist, your thighs, your neck â gripping, holding, demanding.
You hated him for being right, for knowing exactly how to dismantle every wall youâd built. You hated yourself more for letting him.
âSay it,â he growled against your lips, his hands tightening on your hips as he pushed you harder against the counter. âSay you donât care, and Iâll walk out that door right now.â
You clenched your fists, your nails digging into his shoulders as you glared at him, your anger and frustration bubbling over. âAnd then will you do what? Go back to miss pogue? Didnât know you were into charity, Cameron.â
His smirk was sharp, cruel, as his hands slid to your thighs, pulling you even closer. âIâm trying new things,â he admitted, his voice dropping an octave. âBut that was rude even for you, Y/N.â
Your breath caught, his words hitting like a slap, and you hated how much you wanted to kiss him again, to shut him up, to drown in the chaos of him.
So you did.
Your lips crashed into his with a force that left your teeth clashing, your hands gripping his hair, pulling hard enough to make him groan against your mouth. His hands were rough, sliding under your shirt, his touch possessive, searing.
The tension was suffocating, the air thick with everything unspoken between you. Every kiss, every touch, every desperate gasp was a battle âa clash of frustration, anger, and the kind of want that left you both teetering on the edge of destruction.
When you pulled back, both of you were breathing hard, your faces inches apart. His hands were still on your thighs, his thumbs brushing against your skin, grounding you in a way that made you want to scream.
âThis doesnât mean anything,â you said, your voice shaking, though whether it was from anger or the sheer force of what just happened, you werenât sure.
Rafeâs laugh was low, bitter, as he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. âKeep telling yourself that,â he said, his voice dripping with disdain. âBut we both know the truth, donât we?â
You didnât respond. You couldnât. Not when the weight of his words hung so heavy between you. Instead, you grabbed his collar, pulling him back to you, your lips crashing against his once more in a kiss that was equal parts anger and surrender.
Because maybe he was right. Maybe you did know the truth. But for now, this was all you could give.
The air in the bathroom was stifling, filled with the heady mix of alcohol, sweat, and lust. Your back slammed against the counter as Rafeâs mouth claimed yours, all heat and rawness. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, pulling you into him like he couldnât get close enough.
âAdmit it,â he muttered against your lips, his voice rough and demanding.
âAdmit what?â you snapped back, tugging at his shirt, your anger and desire bleeding into every movement. âThat youâre an insufferable prick?â
He growled low in his throat, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he kissed you harder, swallowing the gasp that escaped you. His hands slid under your shirt, fingers digging into your bare skin, leaving a burning trail in their wake.
âYou think this doesnât mean anything?â he asked, his voice a mix of frustration and disbelief as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his blue eyes blazing.
âIt doesnât,â you lied, even as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. âItâs just sex, Rafe. Thatâs all itâs ever been.â
He laughed, dark and humorless, his grip tightening. âYouâre such a horrible liar,â he said, his lips crashing against yours again, his kiss rough, punishing. âYou feel it, just like I do.â
You didnât respond. You couldnât. Not when his hands were sliding down your thighs, lifting you onto the counter. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer as he kissed his way down your neck, biting just hard enough to leave marks.
The sound of the party outside was distant now, a dull thrum that faded into nothing as he pushed up your skirt, his hands rough, desperate.
âTell me to stop,â he murmured against your skin, his voice low, almost daring.
You didnât. You couldnât.
Instead, your nails dug into his shoulders, urging him closer, silently begging for more. Rafe took the invitation, lifting your shirt with a fervor that spoke of his own desperation. Your breasts spilled out of your bra, the lacy confines no match for his greedy hands. He cupped them, squeezing gently before his thumbs found your erect nipples. He rolled them between his fingers, eliciting a whimper that you couldnât hold back. The sensation shot straight to your core, making you wetter, needier.
Then his mouth was there, sucking one of your tits into his mouth, his tongue flicking against the sensitive flesh as he worked on the other with his hand. You arched your back, pressing your chest closer to him, silently demanding more. He gave it to you without hesitation, his teeth grazing your sensitive peak before soothing the sting with a soft lick. You moaned, the sound muffled by his mouth, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt yourself falling into the abyss of pleasure he so expertly created.
While he feasted on your breasts, Rafeâs hand slithered up your thigh, the fabric of your panties already damp with your arousal. He hooked his finger under the elastic, pulling it aside to expose your swollen folds. His touch was feather-light at first, teasing, making you squirm and grip his shoulders. Then, his fingers were inside you, pushing deep and curling just so, making your eyes fly open wide with a gasp. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had you trembling on the edge of the counter.
âYouâre so wet for me,â Rafe murmured, his voice thick with lust. âDoes it feel good, baby?â
With a feral growl, Rafe ripped your panties away, the fabric giving way to the strength of his desire. The sudden exposure made you gasp, your legs trembling as he positioned himself between your thighs. He didnât wait for your response, instead plunging his face between your legs to taste your sweetness. Your hands clutched the counter, knuckles white from the intensity as his tongue delved deep, lapping up your arousal as if it were the sweetest nectar.
âOh, God, Rafe!â you moaned, your voice echoing off the tiles, raw and unbridled. It was a sound that didnât belong in the hallowed halls of friendship, but here you were, straddling that blurry line, your body begging for more of what he offered. His tongue swirled around your clit, flicking and stroking in a rhythm that sent shockwaves through your core. Your moans grew louder, filling the small space, a symphony of pleasure that you couldnât hold back.
âTell me you donât want this,â he murmured against your sex, his breath hot and heavy. âTell me this isnât what you crave every time you think of me, every time you touch yourself in the dark of your room.â
âFuck you,â you gritted out, the words muffled by the moan that followed, a testament to the way his tongue was working its magic on your clit. It was a declaration of war, a challenge, but the way your body responded was anything but adversarial. Your hips bucked upwards, meeting his mouth with a desperate rhythm that spoke volumes.
Rafe arched a brow, adding a finger to the mix, sliding it into your soaking wet pussy alongside his tongue. The dual sensation was overwhelming, his finger curling inside you, stroking that perfect spot while his mouth feasted on your clit. You bit down on your lip to keep from screaming, the pressure building, your orgasm cresting like a wave about to break.
But then, just when you thought you couldnât take it anymore, he pulled away, leaving you panting and desperate. âWhat the fuck?â you gasped, your eyes snapping open to find him smirking up at you, his pants quickly unbuckled and on the floor.
âTurn around,â he instructed, his voice a deep rumble of authority that sent a shiver down your spine. You didnât argue, you couldnât. The need was too intense, the desire too overpowering. You spun around, gripping the edge of the counter as he bent you over it. The cool marble sent a jolt through your overheated body, heightening the sensation as he positioned himself behind you.
He didnât waste any time, his cock sliding into you in one swift, hard thrust that made you cry out. The angle was just right, hitting deep, sending pleasure and a hint of pain spiraling through you. Rafeâs hands dug into your hips, his grip bruising as he began to fuck you with an aggression that bordered on feral. âYou like it rough, donât you?â he growled, his breath hot on your neck. âYouâre such a dirty little slut for me, arenât you?â
You couldnât deny it, not when his words sent a thrill through you, making your pussy clench around his thick cock. You pushed back into him, meeting each thrust with an eager moan. His words were a balm to the anger that simmered between you, a reminder that this was what you both wanted, what you both needed.
âShit, just like that,â you breathed, your voice ragged with need. The words were barely out of your mouth before Rafeâs hand came down with a sharp slap on your ass, the sting of pain mixing with the pleasure that already had you teetering on the edge.
He chuckled darkly, his voice thick with desire as he leaned over you, his breath hot on your neck. âYou like getting it rough, donât you?â he murmured, his free hand reaching around to squeeze your breast, twisting the nipple just enough to make you gasp.
âIâm going to make you cum so hard you wonât be able to walk out of here without everyone knowing what a slut you are for me,â he said, his voice a low, seductive taunt that had you clenching around him even tighter. The orgasm was building, coiling deep in your belly, a pressure that grew with every thrust, every slap of his body against yours.
âOh, fuck, Rafe,â you panted, your forehead resting against the cool marble as he pounded into you relentlessly. The sound of skin on skin filled the bathroom, punctuated by your ragged gasps and his grunts of pleasure. You felt so exposed, so vulnerable in this position, and yet, it only added to the thrill.
âIâm close,â you managed to choke out, your voice shaking with the effort of holding back your orgasm. His grip on your hips tightened, his strokes becoming even more punishing, pushing you closer to the brink.
The tension coiled in your belly, a tight, unyielding knot that grew with every thrust. Then, with a final slap to your ass and a hard, deep drive of his cock, the dam broke. You screamed, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles as your orgasm crashed over you, a wave of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Your body convulsed around him, muscles clenching and releasing in a symphony of ecstasy that left you trembling.
But Rafe wasnât done. He pulled out just as he felt himself reaching the edge, his cock glistening with your juices. You whimpered, the sudden emptiness making your legs wobble. Before you could protest, he spun you around and gently but firmly pushed you to your knees, his eyes never leaving yours. The look in them was one of hunger and possession, a silent demand that sent a fresh wave of arousal through your veins.
âOpen your mouth,â he ordered, his voice strained, and you complied without thought, your eyes locked onto his. He positioned the head of his cock at your lips, the tip brushing against your bottom lip. You could feel the heat of him, see the veins pulsing with need. He was close, so close, and the power to bring him to climax was intoxicating.
As soon as your lips parted, Rafe grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you closer. The sting of pain made your eyes water, but you welcomed it, the sensation only adding to the intensity of the moment. You took him deep into your mouth, the muscles in your throat contracting around his thickness, the taste of him salty and addictive.
Rafeâs eyes rolled back in his head as you worked your mouth over him, your tongue swirling around the tip with every pull back, tracing the underside of his cock with each descent. His hand in your hair tightened, guiding your movements, setting the pace. You could feel his thighs tremble beneath your grasp, his breath hitching with every stroke of your tongue.
âFuck, yes, like that,â he groaned, his voice a raw, guttural sound that only spurred you on. His hand tightened into a fist, tugging on your hair, and you moaned around his length, the pain mixing with the pleasure of pleasuring him. His other hand came to rest on the back of your head, pressing you closer, urging you to take more of him. You obliged, your nose brushing against his pelvis, your throat stretched around his cock.
The head of his dick hit the back of your throat and you gagged, your eyes watering, but you didnât pull away. Instead, you swallowed around him, the sensation sending a shiver of arousal down your spine. Rafeâs body grew taut, his hips jerking as he fought for control.
âFuck, fuck, fuck,â he moaned, the words coming out as a strangled groan. You could feel his orgasm approaching, his cock swelling in your mouth. And when he finally came, it was with a roar, his cum spurting down your throat in hot, thick jets. You swallowed around him, eagerly taking every drop, your own desire spiraling out of control. His hand in your hair tightened, holding you in place as he fucked your mouth through his climax, his hips thrusting erratically.
When he finally pulled out, you sat back on your heels, wiping at the corner of your mouth with a trembling hand. You didnât dare look up at him, not yet. The silence in the room was deafening, the only sound the harshness of your own breathing and the distant throb of music from the party outside.
Rafe stepped back, his chest heaving, and you took the opportunity to stand, smoothing down your skirt and fixing your shirt as best you could. The fabric was wrinkled, the buttons askew, but it was the best you could manage with shaking hands. You avoided his gaze as you bent down to pick up your panties, the shredded lace a sad testament to the ferocity of your encounter.
The silence in the bathroom was palpable, the tension thick as you both took stock of the situation. The anger was back, simmering just beneath the surface, a potent reminder of the unspoken words and unacknowledged feelings that had brought you to this point. Without looking at him, you straightened up, tucking the ruined underwear into your purse.
Rafe let out a dry, disbelieving laugh. âSeriously?â he said, his voice still thick with arousal. âYouâre just gonna go back out there without panties?â
You shot him a glare, your cheeks flaming with both anger and embarrassment. âWhat the fuck do you expect me to do? You tore them off, remember?â
Rafeâs couldnât help the smirk on his lips, his eyes gleaming with mischief. âIâll get you new ones,â he offered, his tone mockingly sweet.
You rolled your eyes and turned to the sink, running cold water over your wrists in an attempt to cool down. âJust leave me alone, Rafe,â you said, your voice tight. âGo worry about your little party fling, Sofia, or whatever her name is. Iâm sure sheâs waiting for you.â
Rafeâs smirk fell away, replaced by a look of annoyance. âDonât do that,â he said, his voice low and warning.
âDonât do what?â you shot back, turning to face him, your hands planted firmly on your hips.
But before you could say another word, Rafeâs face contorted in a snarl of anger. âYou know what!â he shouted, slamming his fist against the wall. Plaster rained down, the sudden violence making you flinch.
He stepped closer, his body a tower of rage, his eyes piercing yours with a ferocity that stole your breath. âYou want to act like this doesnât mean anything?â he yelled, his voice echoing in the small space. âYou want to pretend like you donât feel anything different?â
You stared at him for a long moment, your chest heaving with the effort of holding in the words that threatened to spill out. But you didnât. You couldnât. Not when the truth was a knife that would cut too deep, a wound that might never heal the friendship you cherished.
With a shaky breath, you stepped around him, reaching for the bathroom door. His hand shot out, catching your wrist in a vise-like grip. âYouâre not going anywhere,â he growled.
But you didnât cower. Instead, you yanked free, turning to face him with a look of cold determination. âLet go of me, Rafe,â you said, your voice shaking with barely restrained anger.
He took a step back, his eyes searching yours, looking for something, anything to hold onto. But you were tired, tired of pretending that the earth didnât quake beneath you every time he touched you. So you pushed past him, the door slamming shut behind you as you stormed out of the bathroom, leaving him standing there.
You needed air. You needed to get away from him before you hazy mind let something slip.
You couldnât loose Rafe. Couldnât even entertain the thought of losing your best friend because neither of you could keep it in your pants.
The bathroom door slammed shut behind you, and you stumbled into the hallway, your breathing unsteady. You didnât look at Rafe as he passed you, his expression hard, unreadable. The weight of what had just happened hung heavy between you, unspoken but impossible to ignore.
You made your way back into the party, grabbing the first drink you could find and downing it in one go. The burn of the alcohol did little to dull the mess of emotions swirling inside you.
âWhereâve you been?â Topperâs voice cut through the chaos, and you turned to see him holding a tray of shots.
âNowhere,â you said quickly, forcing a grin. âLetâs do this.â
The atmosphere in the house was suffocating, the music pounding in your ears like a second heartbeat. You hadnât noticed Rafe at first, but the air shifted when he entered the room. Your skin prickled, and every nerve felt attuned to him, even if you couldnât see him yet. When your gaze finally found him across the room, your chest tightened.
He was standing near the bar, Sofia pressed against him. Her laugh, shrill and fake, echoed above the noise, and your stomach churned. You told yourself he didnât mean anything by it â he wouldnât. But then her fingers curled into his shirt, and your breath caught as you watched him tilt his head down with the cockiest smile, his lips brushing hers.
Your stomach twisted, and heat rushed to your face, equal parts humiliation and rage. You felt your heart drop before your emotions boiled into something sharper, hotter. If thatâs how he wants to play it, fine. You downed the tequila in your glass in one burning gulp, then reached for another shot.
Your fingers tightened around the glass as the scene replayed in your head, fueling your every irrational thought. He doesnât care. Heâs never cared.
You slammed the shot glass onto the counter and turned, searching for anythingâanyoneâto pull you out of this spiral. Your eyes landed on the stranger who had been watching you, his smirk practically begging for trouble. Normally, youâd ignore someone like him, but tonight, his attention felt like exactly the kind of distraction you needed.
You stalked over, your steps deliberate, your chin held high. His grin widened when you stopped in front of him, your face set in a mask of forced confidence.
âYou look like you could use some company,â he said, his voice smooth and self-assured.
âMaybe I could,â you replied, leaning in with syrupy sweetness. Without giving it another thought, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss was messy, clumsy, your mind clouded with tequila and spite. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and you let him. For those few seconds, you werenât thinking about Rafe â about the way his lips had brushed Sofiaâs, the way he hadnât even tried to stop her.
But the illusion shattered when you felt a strong, unyielding hand grab the strangerâs shoulder and yank him away from you.
âWhat the fuck are you doing?â Rafeâs voice was low, lethal, his eyes blazing with an anger that sent chills down your spine. His jaw was set so tightly it looked like it might snap, his entire body coiled like a spring ready to explode.
The stranger stumbled but quickly regained his footing, shoving Rafeâs hand off with a sneer. âSeriously, man?â he spat. âBack off. Sheâs not yours.â
Rafeâs nostrils flared, his chest rising and falling with short, controlled breaths. His eyes darted to you for the briefest second, and the flicker of pain there was almost enough to stop your heart. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by something far darker â jealousy, rage, frustration.
âSay that again,â Rafe growled, stepping forward, his voice deadly quiet.
âI said, sheâs not yours.â The stranger smirked, glancing at you. âThough I wouldnât mind if she was. She was clearly needing some.â
That was it. Rafe snapped.
The first punch landed square on the manâs jaw, a sickening crack echoing through the room. The stranger reeled back, clutching his face, but he wasnât out. He lunged at Rafe, his fist connecting with Rafeâs cheekbone hard enough to split the skin. Blood dripped down his face, but it didnât stop him.
Rafeâs expression was feral, his teeth gritted, his eyes burning with something raw and uncontrollable. He moved with precision, landing blows to the manâs ribs, his stomach, his face. The stranger staggered but fought back, catching Rafe in the stomach, then swinging wildly again. The crowd around them screamed, phones raised, some yelling for them to stop and others cheering them on.
âRafe, stop!â you shouted, panic clawing at your throat, but your voice was lost in the chaos.
The scene spiraled out of control faster than you could have imagined. Rafeâs punches were relentless, his fists slamming into the stranger with a precision that made your stomach churn. The stranger fought back, landing blows of his own, but Rafe didnât falter. His eyes were wild, blazing with fury, and you knew he wouldnât stop until someone stopped him.
âRafe, stop it!â you screamed, your voice drowned out by the shouts and chaos of the crowd forming around them. You tried to push through, but the bodies pressing in made it impossible to get close enough.
Desperation clawed at your chest as you scanned the room, your heart pounding. Then you spotted him â Topper, standing near the edge of the crowd with a beer in his hand, his eyes wide as he watched the fight unfold.
âTopper!â you yelled, your voice cracking with panic. âTopper, do something! Get him off!â
He blinked, startled, before realizing you were talking to him. âWhat the hellââ he started, but you cut him off.
âNow, Topper! Fucking help me!â you shouted, shoving someone aside as you struggled to get closer to the fight.
Topper cursed under his breath and shoved his drink into someoneâs hands before rushing forward. âRafe! Man, stop! Youâre gonna kill him!â he barked, grabbing Rafe by the shoulders and trying to yank him back.
But Rafe barely reacted, his body tensing as he shook Topper off like he was nothing. âStay out of it, Top!â he growled, his voice low and venomous, his fists still clenched and ready to swing again.
âRafe, enough!â Topper shouted, throwing his weight into pulling Rafe back. âYouâre gonna get yourself arrested, you idiot!â
With Topperâs help, you finally managed to push your way between them, your hands pressing hard against Rafeâs chest. His bloodied knuckles hovered in the air, trembling with the force of restraint as his gaze locked onto yours. His breaths were ragged, his chest heaving against your palms.
âEnough,â you repeated, your voice breaking, your hands shaking as you held him back. Topper stood just behind you, ready to step in again if Rafe tried to lunge.
The stranger coughed, staggering to his feet, blood dripping from his split lip. âYouâre fucking insane,â he spat, glaring at Rafe before stumbling toward the door.
The crowd began to disperse after that, the tension slowly bleeding out of the room thanks to Topper helping send everyone away. But Rafe didnât move, his burning gaze fixed on you, his chest still heaving beneath your hands.
Neither of you said anything after that. His fists were still clenched at his sides, the tension in his body radiating like heat. You didnât trust yourself to say anything else, not when everything you wanted to scream was too raw, too real, too dangerous.
Rafe sat on the edge of the couch, his knuckles bloodied, his cheekbone swelling. You slammed the first aid kit onto the table, your hands trembling with a mix of anger and adrenaline.
âYouâre such a fucking idiot!â you snapped, grabbing a clean towel and wetting it.
He didnât respond, just watched you with that same infuriating, unreadable expression. His jaw clenched.
âWhat were you thinking?â you demanded, pressing the towel to his knuckles harder than necessary.
He winced but didnât pull away. âHe shouldnât have touched you.â
You turned to him slowly, your head tilting in disbelief as you stared at him. Your lips parted, but no words came out at first, your thoughts racing too fast to catch. A bitter laugh finally bubbled up from your chest, and you shook your head, your eyebrows raising as if to ask are you serious right now?
âWhat the hell is your problem?â your voice sharp and incredulous. Your hands trembled at your sides, but you clenched them into fists, trying to steady yourself. It felt like your entire body was caught between rage and disbelief, your heart pounding as you searched his face for any hint that he realized how insane he sounded.
Rafeâs jaw was tight, his chest still heaving from the fight. His eyes dark and burning with something wild. âWhatâs my problem?â he snapped, his voice rough, practically vibrating with anger. âWhat the fuck were you doing, letting some asshole put his hands on you?!â
Your eyes widened, your brows shooting up as if his words had physically struck you. Letting some asshole? Your breath hitched in your throat, your body stiffening. For a moment, you didnât even know how to respond, the audacity of his accusation knocking the air out of your lungs.
âAre youââ you started, your voice faltering as you let out another disbelieving laugh as you tried to wrap your head around the sheer hypocrisy. He cannot be serious.
You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. âOh, so you get to shove your tongue down Sofiaâs throat, but I canât kiss someone else?â
His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. âThatâs different. You did that to get under my skin.â
âBullshit,â you shot back, tossing the towel onto the table and grabbing an antiseptic wipe. âYou were trying to piss me off too, and congratulations â it worked. But that doesnât mean you get to play the jealous boyfriend when I turn the tables.â
âI wasnât jealous,â he said, though the lie was so transparent it almost made you laugh.
âSure, you werenât,â you said sarcastically, dabbing at the cut on his cheek.
His hand shot up, grabbing your wrist and stilling your movements. âWhy does it bother you so much, then?â
You froze, your breath catching as his eyes bore into yours.
âIt doesnât,â you said weakly, but even you didnât believe it.
His grip tightened, his voice dropping to a near-growl. âLiar.â
âLet go of me, Rafe,â you said, your voice trembling.
âNot until you stop running,â he shot back, his frustration boiling over. âYou think this is just about sex? You think Iâd care who you kissed if I didnât give a shit about you?â
Your chest tightened, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.
âThisâusâitâs a mess,â you said finally, your voice breaking. âAnd I donât know how to fix it.â
Rafe sighed, his grip loosening as he leaned back, his eyes never leaving yours. âMaybe we donât need to fix it,â he said quietly. âMaybe we just need to stop pretending it doesnât matter.ïżœïżœïżœ
You didnât respond. You couldnât. Because deep down, you knew he was right.
A week had passed, but the tension hadnât gone anywhere. If anything, it had grown heavier, thicker, stretching between you and Rafe like an unspoken dare. Youâd avoided him since the party, throwing yourself into anything that would keep your mind off the bruises on his knuckles and the heat in his eyes when heâd pinned you with that question: Why does it bother you so much?
But Rafe was impossible to ignore. He always had been.
You were perched on a lounge chair by the pool at another Kook party â this one at Kelceâs place â pretending to listen to Topper as he rambled on about some stupid surf trip. The music thudded in the background, people laughing and shouting, but your focus was elsewhere.
Because Rafe was here.
He was leaning against the bar, a beer in hand, his expression unreadable as his gaze flicked to you for what had to be the tenth time that night. He looked the same as always â perfectly put together, the bruises from the fight almost faded. But there was something different in the way he was watching you.
It wasnât just casual interest or playful teasing. It was heat. Frustration. Possession.
You looked away quickly, your stomach twisting.
âYou okay?â Topper asked, raising a brow.
âFine,â you lied, forcing a smile.
âGood, because weâre doing shots.â He grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the bar before you could protest. Topper and his damn shots.
And just like that, you were standing next to Rafe, the air between you charged and suffocating. You had to bite your tongue to donât ask where his new pogue pet was. You had inflamed his ego just enough last time.
âWant one, Cameron?â Topper asked, oblivious to the way you and Rafe were studiously avoiding looking at each other.
Rafe smirked, his eyes flicking to you briefly before he grabbed a shot. âWhy not?â
You reached for yours, your hand brushing his briefly. It was enough to send a jolt through you, and you hated the way your body reacted, even after everything.
âCheers!â Topper shouted, and you all knocked back the shots.
The burn of tequila was a welcome distraction, but it wasnât enough to dull the way Rafeâs eyes stayed on you, even as you turned away.
Later that night, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, searching for water to ease the heat in your chest. The party was still going strong, the chaos outside muffled by the thick glass doors.
âCanât stay away, can you?â
The sound of his voice made you freeze, your hand tightening around the water bottle youâd just grabbed. You didnât have to turn around to know he was standing in the doorway, his presence filling the room like it always did.
âWhat do you want, Rafe?â you asked, your voice sharper than you intended as you turned to face him.
He smirked, but it didnât reach his eyes. âThatâs the thing, isnât it? What do you want?â
Your jaw tightened, your frustration bubbling over. âI want you to stop playing these stupid games,â you snapped. âYou act like you care, but then you go around kissing Sofia or picking fights with random guys like some jealous psycho.â
His smirk faded, his expression hardening. âAnd you act like you donât care at all,â he shot back, stepping closer. âLike none of this matters. Like I donât matter.â
âYouâre my best friend. Of course you matter,â you said, the words felt wrong even as they left your mouth. He wasnât just your best friend at this point â you were sure friends didnât do half of the things youâve done.
âBullshit,â he said, his voice low and dangerous as he crowded into your space.
You glared up at him, your chest heaving. âWhat do you want me to say, Rafe? That Iâm scared? That I donât know what the hell Iâm doing? That I donât want to lose the only person whoââ
You cut yourself off, swallowing the rest of the sentence, but it was too late. The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.
His jaw clenched, his hands flexing at his sides like he was holding himself back. âYouâre not gonna lose me,â he said finally, his voice softer but no less intense. âBut youâre gonna drive me fucking insane if you keep pushing me away.â
âIâm not pushing you away,â you argued, though the words felt weak even to you.
âYou are,â he said, his voice rising. âEvery time I get close, you run. And Iâm done chasing you, alright? You want this to mean nothing? Fine. But donât stand here and tell me you donât feel it, because I know you do.â
You stared at him, your pulse racing, your walls crumbling under the weight of his words.
âI donât know how to do this,â you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes softened, his hand reaching out to cup your face. âThen let me show you,â he said, his thumb brushing against your cheek.
You didnât respond, but you didnât pull away either. And when he kissed you, it wasnât rough or angry like before. It was slow, deliberate, filled with all the things neither of you had been able to say.
And for the first time, you let yourself kiss him back without fear or worry. Just you and him, in the quiet chaos of everything you couldnât run from anymore.
#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron oneshot#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron smut#rage cameron x reader smut
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Dear Rafe Cameron,
I want you to bend me over, pull my hair, slap me, spit on in my mouth, dirty talk to me, be your play toy, fuck me into the bed, and choke meïżŒ.
From PreciousPankow2 ;)
#jj maybank#jj maybank smut#jj obx#obx fic#obx netflix#rafe cameron#billy loomis#billy loomis x reader#jaden walton#jj maybank x y/n#rafe x y/n#rafe x barry#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rage#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#rafe smut#rafe imagine#obx x reader#obx cast#obx smut#barry obx#obx2#obx#obx3#obx fanfiction#obx imagine
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cooking up my rafe fanfic and creating my mood boards for all the characters! iâll probably have the first couple chapters out by the end of the week, lmk if you guys want me to post my wattpad accđ©·
#girl interrupted syndrome#lana del rey#just girly thoughts#coquette#lizzy grant#the black swan#gaslight gatekeep girlboss#why am i like this#girlblogger#pretty little liars#rafe cameron angst#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#fic rec#female rage#i love him#lily rose depp
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HIS - rafe cameron x fem!reader
WARNINGS: suggestive content ; yummy jealous rafe
his eyes were firery with rage as he stared at you. his hand clenching his beer bottle so hard it creaked under the pressure.
youâ his girlâ were too close to some kook douche bag. his hands ghosted over your hips as you chatted animatedly to him. the smug bastard smirked as you gave him your undivided attention. and even with your back facing him, the holes burnt from rafeâs gaze gave away his presence.
the problem was that you technically werenât rafeâs girl. you were only friends with benefits. this relationship was even on his terms! he had blabbed on about not liking committed relationships, that he needed freedom and other bullshit.
now, as you laughed, leaning into the guys chest, and grasping his bicep, rafe regretted every word he had said.
his stomach twisted and turned with a green monster inside. finally, he couldnât take it anymore. he couldnât stand another minute watching you blatantly flirt with someone other than him.
pushing himself off the wall, he stalked towards you. his steps were determined and angry. his arm snaked around your waist and he pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck, not paying any mind to the boy beside you. your muscles tensed around his body.
âhey, baby.â rafe murmured. âi couldnât find you.â your forehead creased as he spoke.
ârafe, what are you-â he cut you off by pressing a kiss to your pursed lips. you kicked yourself for feeling butterflies at the small gesture.
he looked at you with a knowing spark in his eyes. then, his gaze redirected to the clearly uncomfortable boy who tried to avoid eye contact. âwhoâs this, baby?â rafe asks, his hand still secure on your hip.
âno one. iâm no one.â the boy says, his tone urgent and annoyed. you opened your mouth to retort his claim, but he walked away before you could. with a huff, you untangle rafeâs limbs from your body.
âwhat the fuck?â he smirked at your harsh tone. you didnât share his amusement. âseriously? you have no right to do that!â
he reaches out his hand to grab your own, but you slap it away. he stiffens his posture as he speaks, âi have a fucking right. youâre mine, y/n.â his tone left no room for a debate.
you stifle out a laugh with an eye roll. âyours?â you say in disbelief. âif i remember correctly you were the one with commitment issues, not me.â
âi donât give a shit what i said or did before.â
âyou canât just take back everything you said!â you cross your arms over your chest. rafe tries to ignore how it makes your breasts swell. he swallows harshly.
âmaybe not,â his voice is soft. âbut i can help you forget.â he takes your hand, leading you into an empty bathroom. he stands tall in front of you as he presses you into the sink.
ârafe-â
he shushes you, pressing kisses to your collarbone and cleavage. âjust let me make it up to you. let me apologize for everything.â he seductively drops to his knees in front of you. chills run down your spine and an ache settles in your core. his large hands settle on your thighs. he presses kisses to your inner thighs. your stomach flutters as he hikes up your skirt, exposing your lacy underwear.
âiâm gonna show you how much i want you for myself, baby.â he doesnât want to pleasure you, he needs to. he craves you; craves your warmth and your love.
and as he flattens his tongue on the thin material of your underwear, all previous worries drift away.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#noraâs writings đ#rafe obx#outer banks#rafe cameron blurb#obx season 4#this is shitty but wtv
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IâM NOT HIM
rafe cameron x fem!reader
( mood board does NOT depict readers appearance !! )
SUMMARY: in which rafe snaps at reader during a heated argument and she flinches, her past trauma resurfacing. rafe breaking the main promise he made to her: to not be anything like her father.
based on an ask i got that i lost </3 i hope the anon who requested it finds this, and this its what you asked for! iâm a little rusty with one-shots so just a short one to ease me into things again! :)
WARNINGS: angst to fluff, arguing, cursing, mentions of past childhood abuse (reader), mentions of a gun/brief mention of violence, trauma responses, crying. (lmk if i missed anything!!)
WORD COUNT: 900 words
THIRD PERSON +
Rafe Cameron wasnât the kind of man anyone would describe as soft. Not with the sharp edge in his voice, the perpetual storm behind his ocean eyes, and the way his knuckles bore scars from fights he barely remembered. He had spent his life battling demons, most of them inherited from Ward Cameron, and those fights had shaped him into someone who took no prisoners.
But with Y/N, none of that mattered.
Y/N was everything Rafe wasnâtâgentle, warm, full of an optimism he couldnât begin to understand but adored nonetheless. She radiated light, the kind that made him want to shield her from the darkness in himself. For two years, sheâd been his anchor, the one person who saw past the volatile exterior to the man buried beneath. And for two years, Rafe had promised himself that he would never hurt her.
But promises donât always hold in the heat of the moment.
The argument had started over something Y/N had brought up before: the gun in Rafeâs apartment. She hated it, hated what it represented, and hated the memories it dragged up for her.
âRafe, I told you,â she said, her voice quiet but firm. âI donât feel safe with it here. Please.â
Rafe, already wound tight from dealing with his fatherâs latest scheme and the growing weight of âthe business,â felt his patience snap like a rubber band stretched too far.
âItâs not a big deal, Y/N,â he muttered, pacing the living room. âItâs not like Iâm walking around with it in my hand. Itâs locked up, alright? Just drop it.â
Y/N didnât drop it. She rarely did when something mattered to her. âIt is a big deal, Rafe. I asked you to get rid of it. I thought you understood howââ
âI said fucking drop it!â Rafeâs voice thundered through the room, loud enough to make the walls seem smaller.
The words echoed in the sudden silence, bouncing off the tension between them. Rafe froze, immediately regretting the way heâd shouted, but it was too late.
Y/N stood there, trembling, her wide eyes glassy with unshed tears. Her lip wobbled as she tried to hold herself together, but Rafe saw the cracks forming.
âBabyâŠâ he said softly, taking a step toward her, reaching out his hand.
She flinched. Actually flinched.
It was like a knife to his chest, sharp and unrelenting. He knew her pastâknew about her fatherâs temper and the way it had scarred her. He knew that shouting brought her back to those dark, suffocating memories.
âIâm so sorry,â he whispered, his voice thick with panic. He reached out again, but she backed away, tears spilling down her cheeks.
âIâI canât,â she choked out before rushing to the bedroom and shutting the door behind her.
Rafe rushed after her before collapsing onto the floor, pressing his back against the wall beside the bedroom door. He could hear her quiet sobs on the other side, each one driving the guilt deeper into his chest.
He buried his face in his hands. âIâm so sorry, babyâ he murmured, voice breaking. âI didnât mean it. I didnât mean to scare you. Please, just⊠let me make it right.â
Her sobs continued, muffled but heartbreaking. Rafe rested his head against the door, tears streaming down his face. He could picture her inside, curled up in the corner, just like she used to do as a little girl to shield herself from her fatherâs rage. A place he promised her she wouldn't ever have to go back to.
âIâm not him,â he whispered, as much to himself as to her. âIâll never be him. I swear. Iâll never hurt you.â
Minutes turned into half an hour, but Rafe didnât move. He felt he didnât deserve to move.
When the door finally opened, Rafe almost didnât notice at first. Heâd been staring at the floor, lost in the heaviness of his own shame. But then Y/N was there, stepping out quietly and kneeling beside him.
Without a word, she crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. Her touch was tentative, as if she wasnât entirely sure she could trust it yet, but Rafe held her like she was the only thing keeping him alive.
âIâm sorry,â he whispered over and over, his voice cracking as he clung to her. âI didnât mean it. I swear, Y/N/N. Iâm so sorry.â
Y/N didnât respond right away. She just held him, letting his warmth chase away the cold that had settled in her chest. Eventually, she pulled back just enough to look at him, her tear-streaked face breaking his heart all over again.
âPlease donât yell at me like that again,â she said softly, her voice trembling.
Rafe cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away her tears. âI wonât,â he promised, his tone fierce with conviction. âNever again. Iâll get rid of the gun. Iâll do whatever it takes to make this right. Just⊠donât be afraid of me.â
âIâm not afraid of you,â Y/N said, her voice barely audible. âIâm afraid of the person you might become.â
Rafe nodded, the weight of her words sinking deep. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, holding her tightly again. âIâll be better,â he whispered. âFor you, Iâll be better.â
In that moment, Rafe vowed to prove it. Not with words, but with actionsâstarting with the gun.
(dividers by @kodaswrld <3)
bettyâs notes Ë . Ęđđ. Ęâ
ahhhh my first one-shot in FOREVER :â) itâs a short one and really sad and angsty but it felt like the quickest ask to whip out, and angst is easier for me to write atm :)
iâm so excited to start with the other requests, and please donât stop requesting! i plan on writing most stuff 1,500 words +, this was just a short little ask so please request with as MUCH detail as possible <3
master list will be updated soon! but for now, to keep track of my works check my personalised tags that are below such as: #bettys asks!! ౚৠâïœĄË and #bettys work!! ౚৠâïœĄË or my personalised tags for characters !!
#rafe cameron#drew starkey#fluff#outer banks#obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff#drew starkey obx#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#bettys asks !! ౚৠâïœĄË#rafe cameron ౚৠâïœĄË#bettys work !! ౚৠâïœĄË
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JACKED AND KIND
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: you and Rafe do the âjacked and kindâ trend
AN: first time writing for Rafe kinda nervous. This oneâs a short one guys, just testing the waters here. Also donât know if anyone has done this yet, I havenât seen one.
You saw the trend all over TikTok, I mean it was everywhere, guys were lifting their girlfriends up by their hips and sitting them on their shoulder without breaking a sweat and it made you a little jealous.
You didnât have a boyfriend and you preferred it that way honestly, the men around werenât much to choose from.
The only one that was is Rafe and he was your best friend. Heâd do almost anything for you and thatâs why you asked him to do the trend with you.
You were in your room sitting on your bed and Rafe was playing your play station that he got you a while ago so he could teach you how to play but mostly so he could when he was at your house hours at a time.
It was no secret that the gym had been treating rafe well, especially in the past few months you definitely noticed the growth so of course heâd ba able to do it.
You tossed your phone to the side, âRafeâ you called him. He hummed in acknowledgment not taking his eyes off of the game. âCan you do something with me?â You asked, that question caught his attention.
He paused the game, turning around in your gaming chair âdo whatâ he tilted his head slightly. You smiled grabbing your phone, to show him.
He watched the guy lift his girl without so much as an effort. He smirked âisnât that a couples trend?â He asked with raised brows.
You rolled your eyes âyes but I donât have a boyfriend and, youâre the next best option. Plus Iâm sure thisâll be a good way to show off your gym progressâ you smirked wiggling your brows playfully. Rafe pushed your head back gently and you dramatically threw yourself onto your bed groaning. âPleaseeee Rafe.â You begged.
Eventually he caved, much to your excitement. You sat your phone down and moved in front of Rafe and waited for his cue. And with no effort whatsoever you were lifted off of the ground and into his shoulder, you let out a squeal and an excited laugh.
Rafe smirked flexing his other arm making you laugh even more. When the video ended he placed you back on the ground and you rushed to the phone to see the video.
You watched the video with rage hovering over your shoulder âthat was so hotâ you said smirking at him.
âShut upâ he rolled his eyes, wishing that you actually meant it. Little did he know you did.
#s0urw00lf#rafe cameron#Rafe Cameron x reader#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe Cameron x best friend!reader#obx4#obx season 4#obx fanfiction#rafe obx
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beach fight - part 1
warnings: angst, mentions of blood, cussing, topper, fighting, mentions of cheating, Ruthie
disclaimer: this is so satisfying to read â requests are open!!
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
The Pogues were lounging on the beach, enjoying the rare moment of peace. Y/N tried to relax, but the air felt tense, like something was about to go down. She couldnât help but notice the Kooks pulling up in their flashy cars, parking way too close. Rafe, Topper and the rest of their stupid crew stepped out, making sure everyone saw them.
The last thing Y/N needed was to see Rafe. After everything he didâ cheating on her with Sofia. it still stung. they had a thing going on for a while, he changed when they were togetherâ but that all went away when Sofia happened. And now, here they were, together, acting like nothing had happened
Topper and JJ had made a quick agreement not to start anything. Both knew things could get messy fast, so they decided to keep it chill for the day.
Everyone settled back into their spots, but Y/N could feel the tension in her muscles. She couldnât help glancing over at Rafe, who looked too comfortable around Sofia, his arm draped lazily over her shoulder. Her stomach twisted with a mix of anger and hurt.
Suddenly, Kiara gasped. âGuys, look!â
The Poguesâ attention snapped to the tiny turtle hatch making its way to the ocean.
Everyone gathered around, watching as the turtle moved slowly through the sand. It was a rare moment of quiet wonder, the kind that reminded them why they loved this place.
But then the loud roar of an engine shattered the peace. Ruthieâs truck tore through the sand, heading right for the turtle, swerving dangerously close to the Pogues.
âWatch out!â JJ yelled, grabbing Kiara and pulling her out of the way.
The truck barely missed them, the tires kicking up sand. Ruthie laughed from inside, clearly amused at the chaos she was causing.
âShe almost killed them!â Kiara said, horrified, looking back at the little turtles still struggling through the sand.
Y/N clenched her fists, biting her tongue. Her heart raced with anger, but she tried to hold it in. Not yet, donât explode yet.
But Ruthie wasnât done. She spun the truck around, her laughter echoing through the air. As she drove past them again, she leaned out the window, holding a drink. Without warning, she tossed it right on Kiara, drenching her in sticky liquid and ice.
Kiara stood there, frozen, dripping wet. âAre you kidding me?â
Y/N felt the last thread of control snap. âDonâtâ John B muttered, trying to keep the peace.
But Y/N couldnât take it anymore. She stormed toward Ruthie, eyes blazing with fury, not caring what anyone said.
âY/N, donât!â John B called after her, but it was too late. The anger that had been building for monthsâRafeâs betrayal, seeing Sofia here, Ruthieâs blatant disrespectâhad reached its breaking point.
Y/N marched right up to Ruthie, who was standing by her truck now, smirking at the mess sheâd caused.
âWhatâs your problem, you bitch?â Y/N spat, her voice shaking with rage.
Ruthie sneered, completely unfazed. âWhatâs yours, Pogue? Go cry about it with your dirty friends.â
That did it. Without a second thought, Y/N grabbed Ruthie by the shirt and shoved her back, hard. Ruthie stumbled, caught off guard, but before she could react, Y/N swung her fist, landing a solid punch to Ruthieâs face.
Ruthie shrieked in pain, clutching her nose as blood started to drip. âYou psycho!â
The Kooks looked on in shock, unsure of what to do. Sofiaâs eyes widened as she watched Y/N completely lose it. But she noticed something elseâRafe wasnât running to Ruthieâs defense. Instead, his eyes were glued to Y/N, a mix of anger and concern flashing across his face.
Ruthie tried to fight back, but Y/N wasnât having it. She grabbed Ruthieâs hair, yanking her down toward the sand as Ruthie let out another scream. Y/Nâs fists flew, fueled by months of pent-up rage.
âY/N!â Rafeâs voice finally broke through, but she didnât stop. He rushed over and grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her off Ruthie. âThatâs enough!â
Y/N struggled against his grip, still fuming. âLet go of me!â
Ruthie lay on the ground, crying and holding her bloody nose. Y/N had done enough damage, but the fire inside her wasnât out.
Rafe held her tight, his breath warm against her neck as he tried to calm her down. âWhat the hell are you doing?â
âGet your hands off me, Rafe,â Y/N snapped, finally breaking free of his grip. She spun around to face him, her chest heaving. âWhat am I doing? Iâm doing what you shouldâve doneâkeeping your bitchass friends in check.â
Rafe narrowed his eyes, but Y/N didnât give him a chance to respond. âYouâve been running around with these Kooks, pretending like nothing matters, while youâre just as bad as them. You cheated on me with her!â Y/Nâs voice cracked as she pointed at Sofia, who was standing frozen, watching the whole scene unfold.
Rafe clenched his jaw, but there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes. âThatâs notââ
âDonât even try to defend yourself,â Y/N cut him off. âYou lost that right the second you chose Sofia.â
Sofia, who had been silent this whole time, shifted uncomfortably as Rafeâs attention stayed focused on Y/N. She could see how much Y/N still affected him, how his whole demeanor changed around her. His concern, his frustrationâit was all for Y/N, and that realization stung.
Y/N turned her back on Rafe and marched back toward Ruthie, who was still sitting in the sand, clutching her bleeding nose. Before anyone could stop her, Y/N grabbed Sofiaâs drink from the hood of the truck and dumped it right over Ruthieâs head.
Ruthie gasped, soaked and defeated, blood and soda dripping down her face.
âDonât ever mess with my friends again,â Y/N hissed, her voice low and dangerous.
Rafe watched in shock, still standing frozen in place, as Y/N walked back toward the Pogues. He barely noticed Sofia next to him, her face twisted in jealousy and confusion as she realized how much control Y/N still had over him.
The Pogues erupted in cheers as Y/N rejoined them. JJ slapped her on the back, laughing. âHell yeah, Y/N! That was awesome!â
Kiara, still wiping the drink off her, grinned. âYou really know how to handle things.â
But as the Pogues celebrated, Rafe stayed behind, his eyes locked on Y/N, conflicted emotions swirling inside him. Sofia glanced between them, noticing the way Rafeâs attention was fixed on Y/N, and it was clear: no matter what had happened between him and Sofia, Y/N still had a hold on him that Sofia could never break.
part 2 here
#drew starkey#rafe cameron#sofia obx#topper thornton#outer banks#obx 4#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey smut#obx
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You Broke Me First || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
gif by @rafeyscurtainbangs
Summary: You didnât expect Rafe to push you aside so easily for Sofia, but it wasnât shocking when he called you from Morocco, confessing that she had betrayed him in the worst way.
Warnings: angst angst angst (haven't written this much angst in a hot minute) Sofia slander mb, reader ate in this one if I do say so myself đđ
Word count: 3,378
MASTERLIST
divider by @h-aewo
Rafe exhales sharply, tossing his cap onto the polished table with a frustrated thud. He rakes a hand through his buzzed hair, his expression caught between exasperation and regret. "C'mon, baby, donât be like that," he pleads, his tone softer than the storm brewing between the two of you. But his attempt at pacifying you only stokes the fire raging in your chest.
You remain unmoved, your gaze fixed on the pristine, manicured lawn of the country club, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as though youâre physically holding your anger in check. The vibrant chatter of nearby patrons fades into the background, the sound nothing more than white noise to the tension crackling between you. "Like what?" you snap, voice cold and sharp, refusing to look at him.
"Like you're fucking insecure!" Rafe bites back, his words slicing through the air without thought or care. Your head whips toward him, eyes narrowing in fury. "You did not just say that to me," you seethe, the disbelief quickly morphing into a sharp-edged anger that spreads like wildfire. Rafe stares at you, jaw tight, offering no apology, no acknowledgment of the weight of what he just said.
It only fuels your rage. "You think this is about me being insecure?" you spit, stepping closer to him, your voice rising. "You let her hang all over you, Rafe. Laughing, flirting, and touching you. And you just stood there, eating it up like a goddamn idiot while I was standing right there. Right fucking there. Do you even realise how disrespectful that was?" Your words hit like rapid-fire bullets, but Rafe just shakes his head, his silence infuriating you further.
"You couldnât even pretend to give a shit about me," you continue, your voice sharp enough to cut. "Not a glance, not a word, nothing. You just let her make a fool out of me. Do you even care how that made me look? How it made me feel?" "It wasnât like that," Rafe mutters finally, his tone dismissive as he runs a hand through his hair again, avoiding your eyes. "Oh, fuck off," you snap, venom dripping from every syllable.
"Donât you dare try to gaslight me, Rafe. I saw exactly what it was like. She was all over you, and you let it happen. You didnât even have the decency to act like I was there." Your voice is rising now, no longer caring who might overhear. "You want to talk about insecurity? How about the fact that you canât say no to someone feeding your fucking ego? God forbid you turn her down, because then what? You donât get to be the centre of attention for five goddamn minutes?"
Rafe flinches at your words, his posture stiffening, but youâre too far gone to stop. "Youâre pathetic," you hiss, stepping even closer, forcing him to look at you. "You love it, donât you? The attention, the admirationâso much that you donât even care what it costs me. You donât care that it makes me look like a joke. That it makes me feel like a fucking idiot for standing by your side." "Thatâs not fair," Rafe says quietly, his tone defensive, but his voice is barely audible over your anger.
"Fair?" you bark out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "Do you even know what that word means, Rafe? Fair is treating the person you claim to care about with an ounce of respect. Fair is not making me feel like Iâm in this relationship alone while you let random girls flirt with you because it strokes your goddamn ego." Your breathing is heavy now, your chest heaving as you glare at him, your anger a living, breathing thing that refuses to be contained.
For a moment, you think Rafe might say somethingâanythingâto defend himself, to fix this. His lips part as if words are on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitates. Instead, he just stares at you, his jaw tight, his lips pressed into a thin line, the weight of his silence hanging heavy in the air. His refusal to fight for youâto fight with youâburns hotter than anything he could have said.
"Unbelievable," you mutter, your voice dripping with bitter disbelief as you turn on your heel. You pause just long enough to deliver one final blow, the venom in your words leaving no room for ambiguity. "You know what, Rafe? When that Pogue turns on you, donât you dare come crawling back to me. You made your choice." You don't wait for his responseâif he even has one.
Your heels click sharply against the floor as you walk away, your back to him, shoulders squared. The lump in your throat threatens to choke you, but you swallow it down, your anger your shield against the pain threatening to bubble up. Behind you, Rafe doesnât call out. He doesnât follow. The soft scrape of his chair shifting against the floor is the only sound he makes, and it sends a pang of hurt slicing through your chest.
You donât look back. You canât. You leave him standing there, his cap still sitting on the table, the perfect picture of a man whoâs just realised how deeply heâs fucked up. The realisation is written all over his face, but itâs too little, too late.
~
"Hello?" you answer, pressing the phone to your ear. The line crackles with a brief silence, heavy and tense, before you hear a voiceâhis voice. "She fucked me over," Rafe spits out, his words sharp and laced with anger. "She screwed with me and my fucking money." Your eyes widen, and instinctively, you sink into the nearest seat, your mind racing to process the flood of emotions his sudden call evokes.
His tone is frantic, his words tumbling out in a bitter, unrelenting rant. "What?" you manage, your voice tight with confusion. "What are you talking about, Rafe?" He exhales harshly, the sound of frustration practically vibrating through the receiver. "Sofia," he growls, the name dripping with venom. His words come fast, tumbling over each other in a frantic, furious rant.
"Sheâshe knew. The whole time. She knew exactly what was happening to my money and just watched it happen. Worse, she didn't do a damn ting to stop it because she was a part of it." Your stomach twists as his words paint a picture of betrayal deeper than youâd imagined. "What the hell are you talking about?" you ask, your voice sharper now, though confusion still clouds your tone.
"She was involved," he says bitterly. "The dealâthe fucking deal that cost me everything. She kept her mouth shut, let me take the hit, and now Iâm the one left to clean up the mess. And the whole time, she stood there smiling, acting like she gave a damn about me." You exhale slowly, trying to process the weight of what heâs saying.
Thereâs an anger rising in youânot for Sofia, but for Rafeâs blind trust and his reckless decisions. "And what, you just figured this out now?" "No," he admits, his voice dropping to something almost pained. "I knew something was off for weeks. But I didnât want to believe it. I fucking proposed to her, for Godâs sake. Thought if I just⊠held on tighter, I could fix things. Fix us."
You freeze, the confession hitting you like a sucker punch. "You proposed?" "Yeah," he spits, the word dripping with self-loathing. "And you know what she did? She cried. Not because she was happy. Not because she loved me. Because she felt guilty." He laughs bitterly, the sound hollow and cold. "She couldnât even bring herself to tell me the truth while I was down on one fucking knee."
For a moment, the line goes quiet, his words hanging heavy in the air between you. "You know, Rafe," you finally say, your voice steady but edged with anger, "this is what happens when you put your trust in someone whoâs only looking out for themselves." He exhales sharply, the sound of his frustration practically vibrating through the phone. "I get it," he snaps. "I shouldâve listened to you. You warned me, and I didnât care. I thought I knew better."
"You thought you were untouchable," you counter, your words hitting him like a slap. "And now youâre calling me? For what? To say I told you so?" "No," he says, softer now, almost broken. "I donât know why I called. Maybe because you were the only one who actually gave a damn about me. Or maybe because I needed someone to hear itâsomeone whoâd understand what itâs like to be completely fucked over by someone you trusted."
You close your eyes, the ache in his voice tugging at something deep inside you. But you push it aside, unwilling to let his pain pull you back in. "This doesnât change anything, Rafe," you say firmly. "You made your choices. You canât just run to me every time they blow up in your face." "I know," he murmurs, the defeat in his tone cutting deeper than his anger ever could. "I just⊠I didnât know who else to call." You let out a breath you didnât realise you were holding, feeling the weight of Rafeâs words sink in.
âWhere are you?â you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, trying to make sense of everything. âMorocco,â he says, the word hanging in the air like a punch. Your heart stutters, and your eyes widen as you try to process his response. âWhat?â you ask, unable to keep the disbelief out of your voice. âWith who?â "Sarah and her friends. Look, itâs... a long story, alright?" You scoff, shaking your head. The frustration that had been simmering inside you spills over, and you canât keep the bitterness out of your voice.
âYeah, I can fucking imagine. Jesus, Rafe. What have you gotten yourself into this time?â You feel your hands balling into fists, the anger bubbling up again. How did he always manage to get himself tangled in these messes? Thereâs a pause on the other end, the kind of silence that feels heavy with regret. Rafeâs voice comes through, softer, almost pleading. âCan you do me a favour? Please?â You hesitate, trying to weigh your options. After everything thatâs happened, you werenât sure you wanted to do him any more favours, but you couldnât ignore the desperation in his tone.
âDepends,â you reply, keeping your guard up, knowing full well that Rafeâs requests often led to more complications than they were worth. He sighs heavily, as if the weight of what heâs about to ask is too much. âCan you go to my house and check if sheâs still there?â You furrow your brow, confusion clouding your thoughts. âWhatâs she doing in your house?â The words tumble out before you can stop them, your suspicion rising like an unsettling tide. Thereâs a beat of hesitation before Rafeâs voice cracks slightly.
âI... I asked her to move in with me,â he admits, the rawness of his confession making the words sting like salt on a wound. You feel a cold laugh escape you before you can stop it. âYeah, of course you did,â you mutter, your teeth clenching as the bitterness grows. The thought of Sofia, the same woman who had betrayed him, now living in his houseâit doesnât sit right with you. It feels like a betrayal in itself, a reminder of everything Rafe never learned. âPlease, Y/n,â Rafeâs voice cuts through the tension, quieter now, softer, and the pleading tone in his words makes your chest tighten.
âI just need to know if sheâs still there. I canât trust anything right now, and I donât know who else to ask.â You lean back against the wall, your eyes closing for a moment as you let out a long, frustrated sigh. You knew it was going to be something like this. You knew Rafeâs charm and his impulsiveness would lead him straight into another mess, but this? This felt like too much. âFine,â you say, finally, the weight of his request heavy in your chest. âIâll go. But you owe me one, Rafe.â
~
Pulling up to the house you were once so familiar with, you let out a deep sigh. The place looks the same, but it feels differentâdistant. Your hand tightens on the steering wheel for a moment before you shift into park. You take a breath and step out of the car, walking up the front stairs with a heavy sense of purpose. When you test the front door, your suspicion proves rightâitâs unlocked. Slowly, you push it open, the creak of the hinges breaking the silence inside. The house feels empty, eerily quiet.
You move further in, your footsteps echoing off the hardwood floors, until a voice stops you dead in your tracks. "Rafe? Is that you?" The shakiness in her tone is unmistakable, and it irks you more than you care to admit. You scoff under your breath and follow the sound of her voice to the living room. There she isâSofia, looking nothing like the confident, composed woman she used to be. The moment she sees you, her eyes widen in shock, and she quickly stands, hastily wiping her tears from her cheeks.
"What are you doing here?" she says, her voice a mix of disbelief and unease. You canât hide the bitterness that creeps into your words as you respond. "Trust me, I do not want to be here," you roll your eyes, moving to sit on the single armchair across from her, the space between you two feeling as vast as the gulf thatâs grown between your lives. "Why are you here, Y/n?" Her voice shakes, but you can see the cracks in her façade. Sheâs barely holding it together.
You lean back in the chair, crossing your arms. "I could ask the same of you. Rafe wanted you out of here." Her throat tightens, and she swallows hard, trying to maintain some control. "I'm not leaving until I talk to him again," she argues, but her resolve feels weak, as if she knows deep down that this battle is already lost. You scoff, your patience wearing thin. "Yeah, good luck with that, sweetheart. You're dead to him," you say flatly, watching as the color drains from Sofiaâs face.
The fear in her eyes is almost satisfying. Sheâs starting to realise the weight of the mess sheâs made. "I-I..." She stammers, her eyes darting around, desperately searching for an escape that isnât coming. You lean forward slightly, letting the silence linger just long enough before you speak again, your voice cold, steady. "You know what Rafe canât stand more than anything, Sof?" you begin, watching as she flinches at the mention of his name. "Backstabbers."
The word hangs between you, thick with meaning, and you can see the realisation slowly settle in her. Thereâs no turning back now. Sofia's eyes dart nervously, avoiding yours as if sheâs trying to escape the gravity of your words. She opens her mouth to speak but stops herself, as though the words are caught in her throat. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, wiping her eyes again, but this time the tears donât come.
Instead, there's just this raw vulnerability, something she rarely ever lets slip. "I didn't mean for it to happen like this," she finally mutters, her voice a broken whisper. "You donât understand. Iâ" "Save it," you cut her off, your tone colder than you expected. "Iâm not here for your excuses, Sofia. Whatever sob story youâve cooked up, I donât care. The damage is done. Rafe trusted you. He wouldâve given you the world if you asked for it. And youâ" You stop, swallowing the heat building in your chest.
"You took everything from him, didnât even think twice about it." Sofia trembles, her gaze flickering to the floor as she struggles to hold back the overwhelming guilt threatening to spill out. "I didnât want this to happen. I swear I didnât," she whispers, her voice uneven. "I was hurt. By what he said, by the way he treated me. IâI was just trying to keep things from falling apart, and it got too messy. I couldnât back out."
You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. "Oh, so thatâs it? You were hurt, so you decided to screw him over? Thatâs your excuse?" Her lip quivers, and for a moment, you think she might break, but then her voice rises, desperate. "It wasnât like that!" she insists. "You donât get it. I didnât mean to hurt him. I thought maybe if I just went along with it, I could fix thingsâ" "Fix things?" you snap, standing abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"By lying to him? By betraying him? Thatâs what you call fixing things?" You scoff again, crossing your arms. "You didnât care about fixing anything. You cared about yourself. You wanted to stay comfortable, no matter what it cost him." She stands too, her posture stiff, her shoulders drawn tight. "I was scared," she says, her voice trembling. "I didnât know what to do. I thought if I stayed quiet, I could keep it together. I didnât want to hurt him, I swearâ"
You cut her off with a wave of your hand, the irritation bubbling to the surface. "Stop acting like I care, Sofia," you say flatly, your words slicing through the tension. "You think Iâm here defending him? After what he put me through?â You let out a humorless laugh. "I couldnât care less about Rafe. But youâ" You step closer, your eyes narrowing.
"You think youâre special, donât you? You think you can walk in here, cry a few tears, and fix everything? And the worst part is, you donât even realise it." Her mouth falls open slightly, her expression faltering as she processes your words. She looks at you like sheâs seeing someone else, someone she doesnât recognise, and for a fleeting moment, you almost feel bad. Almost.
"You broke him, Sofia," you say, your voice dropping into a harsh whisper. "And now youâre standing here, trying to paint yourself as the victim. Itâs disgusting." The silence that follows is deafening, a void neither of you can fill. Sofia doesnât respond. She doesnât move. She just stands there, her shoulders slumped, her eyes glossy but dry. For once, she has nothing left to say. "Get out," you say finally, your voice calm but firm, the weight of your words unmistakable. "Youâve done enough damage."
Sofia's lip quivers as she stands there for a moment, motionless, her breath hitching as if she wants to argue but canât find the words. Instead, she presses her trembling lips together and nods faintly, her head hanging low. Without another word, she brushes past you, her footsteps hesitant but quickening as she heads for the door. The sound of her leaving echoes through the houseâthe shuffle of her shoes on the floor, the creak of the door as it opens, and the final, resounding click as it closes behind her.
For a few moments, you remain where you are, letting the silence settle over the space. The air feels heavier now, and your chest tightens with a mixture of lingering anger and exhaustion. You reach into your pocket, pulling out your phone with a deliberate slowness. Your thumb hovers over Rafeâs name in your contacts for a second longer than it should, but you shake off the hesitation and press the call button. The line rings twice before he picks up.
"What?" His voice is sharp, irritated, like he wasnât expecting you to callâor wasnât in the mood to deal with you if you did. "Itâs done," you say simply, your tone devoid of emotion. "Sheâs gone. You wonât have to deal with her anymore." Thereâs a pause on the other end, long enough for you to hear him exhale. "Good," he mutters, his voice clipped. You donât respond right away, letting his words hang in the air.
When you do speak, your voice is distant, detached. "Donât call me again, Rafe. Whatever this wasâwhatever you neededâitâs over." "Whatâs that supposed to mean?" he snaps, the irritation in his voice sharpening into something defensive. "It means Iâm done," you say firmly, your grip on the phone tightening. "Donât drag me into your mess again. Clean up your own life next time." "Y/nâ" You donât wait for him to finish.
You end the call and toss your phone onto the couch, the finality of it settling over you like a weight. For a moment, you stand there, staring at the empty room, the silence pressing down on you. Itâs done. Whatever mess Rafe and Sofia had created, youâd played your part in untangling it. But as you look around the house, you realise you feel no sense of victory, no relief. Just a hollow emptiness, as if something in you has finally burned out.
Without another glance, you grab your bag and head for the door. You donât need to stay here any longer. Youâve said everything you needed to say, done everything you needed to do. And as you step outside into the fresh air, you make a silent promise to yourself: youâre walking away from this for good.
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âč á(á ÂŽ Ë)à© âĄ âŠ SHARPEST TOOL âĄ
track five of the short nâsweet series. pairing: babydaddy!rafe x reader. based loosely on the song sharpest tool by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! à»ê°Ő Üž. .ÜžŐê±á
itâs not like you expected a marriage proposal or anything.
rafe was going to be rafe, you knew thatâ it was the whole reason he was your babydaddy and not your husband or even boyfriend. the cameron man was bright where it counted but not even nearly emotionally equipped enough to handle the trials and tribulations of an adult relationship paired with a baby. he got the baby on fridays and tuesdays. that was the agreement.
but that didnât mean you didnât see him inbetween.
âmmh, fuckâ sâmine isnât it? huh? câmonââ rafe cups your chin, encouraging you to speak words that were incoherent whines as he drives his cock repeatedly through your gummy walls.
âyours, still yours rafey.â
god, youâd think the two of you were still together. it was sex talk, nothing more nothing less â you assumed anyway. unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances in your love life, and the fact you were somewhat soul tied to the cameron boy, you meant every word. there was no way he felt the same, merely doing you a favour even â due to your raging hormones post pregnancy recovery that were adjacent to a teenage boys. he was helping you out.
âthis pussy is â goddamn, still as good as the first time i fucked it.â he groans into your neck because you know heâs close.
you roll your hips, forever trying to please him.
as aforementioned, itâs not like you expected him to suddenly come forward with a proposal after heâd finished into the condom. he drops a kiss to your temple like always, cleans himself off in the bathroom, awkwardly stands in your door making small talk, and occasionally decides that then is the time to drop your wad of allowance money that he gives you for raising his kid. you told him to stop putting money on your dresser after sex because it made you feel like a âpaid serviceâ. he rolled his eyes.
the problem didnât lie with how rafe treat you within the four walls of your bedroom. rafe was going to be rafe, and that was that. it was how heâd behave upon seeing you in public. youâd think the two of you were merely strangers. if you were to stroll through the country club where you rightfully belong just as much as him, heâd turn his back, look away. like heâd forgotten everything.
at this point, you couldnât tell if he was nonchalant or just plain stupid. you couldnât keep chasing the feeling of the rare little nod of acknowledgement heâd send your way when youâd accidentally lock eyes. he wasnât ashamed of the situation, no â youâd seen him proudly walk around the club with his little girl in his arms, letting everyone surround them, fawn over them. it was you that got left behind.
youâd decided enough was enough, coming to the conclusion youâd ignore him right back. it was approaching the weekend, and you knew youâd have to see him â so you prepared yourself to be strong. resilient. play him at his own game. you were simply there to drop off the baby and go home.
rafe comes and stands by you at the country club bar on a thursday evening.
âusual time tomorrow?â he nudges you gently with his arm, and you were shocked he was even speaking to you. not allowing the shock to cause you to jump straight into friendly conversation, you stare ahead.
âyep.â
âalrightâŠyeah, yeahâŠâ he nods, itching his cheek, eyes glancing back over to you. âi assume you uh, youâre gonna want something to help get you right huh? nothing some dick canât fixâŠâ you can hear the smirk on his voice and you exhale shakily, not wanting to react in the usual pavlovian way with your panties practically dropping.
so you say nothing. you stare ahead.
the bartender brings his beer, and yet he stays, staring at your profile. âaâight⊠fucks aâmatter with you?â
âyou clearly donât care, you can skip the formalities.â you find yourself spitting out before you can help yourself. he stares for another moment before he scoffs.
âthe fucks your problem, little miss attitude?â he drawls, blinking in irritation but your order comes and you take it and walk away. he doesnât chase you, of course not.
you drop the baby off the next day, and he tries his luck again, welcoming you inside wearing grey sweats. âcâmon.â he croons quietly, nodding his head inside after youâd got the sleeping baby situated and you stand up straight, look him in the eye, and smile.
âso you can treat me like iâm not a person afterwards? i think iâll pass.â you turn your daughter, blowing her a kiss. âbye baby, mommy will see you tomorrow.â rafe stares after you, watching you go.
to answer your previous pondering, it turned out rafe was more stupid than he was nonchalant. truth be told, he hadnât realised heâd been acting all that much differently. you were co-parenting, not a couple â so he figured his time at the country club was his time and yours was yours. he didnât wanna bother you a whole bunch and put you off visiting.
but the dots were starting to connect, and rafe remembered that women do infact need more emotional stimulation to live happily beside you â and heâd be damned if he werenât to look after the mother of his child properly. if thatâs what you needed, heâd be happy to play ball.
the two of you donât say much to eachother when you pick the baby up the next day, yet when monday rolls around, and you step into the country club with three of your friends to discuss an upcoming event â rafe cameron doesnât waste any time.
he cuts topper off mid conversation, holding up a dismissive hand as soon as his eyes meet you and he begins to swagger over to you in his usual aggressive and demanding manner. you think heâs about to give you an earful infront of your friends so you stop nervously, brow creasing. however, when he reaches you â he grips you and brings his lips to yours, cutting off any potential confused greeting on your tongue with a kiss.
âgonna stop pouting about this whole thing now? huh?â he raises his eyebrows and you blink up at him, turning to your friends and shooing them to their table. turning back, you eye him.
âwhy did youââ
âyou think i donât care about you, thatâs it right? like â like i donât supply your ass with endless money, threaten any asshole that tries to make a move on you, defend you like my god damn life depends on it, fuck you when you need it? hm? nah, nah you really thinkââ
âwait, who do you threaten?â
âthatsâ ahh⊠thats not important, alright?â he scratches his temple, buzzcut bristling against his blunt fingernails as he quickly wets his lips with his tongue. âi didnât know i was fucking up. okay?â his drags out his version of an apology and you feel the tiniest smile creeping up on you. it was pathetic, really.
âi just didnât want you to be ashamed of me.â you sigh, looking down and heâs lightly gripping your chin immediately so you looked up at him when he spoke. old habits die hard.
âiâm not. you think iâd put a baby in someone i was ashamed of? that shits for the pogues.â
ârafe.â
âlook,â he pulls his sunglasses on over his eyes and wraps an arm around you, the two of you now looking out over the club. the eyes of his friends and yours are quickly averted, having being watching the entire interaction. âi donât know what more you want, okay iâmâ i havenât done this before. i donât know if youâre aware but i havenât had a kid before. this shit is my first fuckinâ rodeo too.â he turns to look down at you through the dark frames, a serious and promising look on his face. âbut whatever i need to do⊠to keep that little attitude at bay, iâll make shit happen. yeah? even if i gotta fuck you infrontâa the whole club.â
he might not have been the sharpest tool, but he knew what you wanted to hear.
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the act of unravelling (part one)
pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader
rating mature 18+
summary you never expected youâd get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.
tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.
authorâs note thank you to this anon!! this fic deviates from canon. timeline is s2 when rafe is at his most unhinged.
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disclaimer there is no explicit s/xual assault scene in this story, but it is referenced and the trauma that comes with surviving it is explored. it is committed by an original character. when writing this, i pulled from personal experience, so please be mindful that if you comment, do not engage in any victim-blaming as it is triggering to me and others.
·········
In a single harrowing moment, youâve learned that thereâs truth to the expression that the enemy of your enemy can be your friend.
Rafe looks all too comfortable holding a gun. The rage coursing through you is deafening, persuading you that the person heâs pointing it at deserves to die.
And then, you utter the words rising in your throat.
âDo it.â
â°â†two days earlier
Your shifts at the country club are a repetitive motion of driving over the golf courseâs hills, handing the islandâs wealthiest people their overpriced drinks, and accepting their money with a fake smile.
The job was always a predictable bore. Until a week ago, when you started seeing a familiar face.
The moment Rafeâs eyes landed on you and he realized that one of the Pogues he revels in berating is the new cart girl, his lips twitched into a smirk.
Every time you see him, he does the same thing. He orders a beer and says here you go, sweetheart when he tips you.
Itâs always a fifty. No other club member gives you nearly this much. Itâs like he loves reminding you that this type of money is pocket change to him.
Every time you serve him, you subdue your glare and take the crisp bill that sits between his fingers, wondering why even though the man is an arrogant asshole, you canât stop staring at him.
You feel weak for not hating him all the way. You canât help that over the years of your tense, sporadic interactions, a part of you has always wondered if he feels the same pull of attraction that you do.
You have to remind yourself of who he is. A man committed to letting everyone know how much better he thinks he is because he was lucky enough to be born into money. Heâs heartless. And you canât wait for the day that you finally rid yourself of this fixation you have for him.
Itâs a sunny Thursday afternoon at the end of a long shift and youâre parked by one of the paved pathways on the course, recording your last transaction in your logbook.
You hear the familiar whirring of a cart passing by. It stops. You donât think much of it until you hear his voice.
âWeâll take two beers,â he calls from behind the steering wheel. You look up to see him. Rafe.
âIâm obviously off duty,â you reply curtly, looking between him and his friend.
âWhat, so you can write in your diary, but you canât give us some drinks?â he calls.
âItâs a logbook,â you reply coldly. âItâs called havingââ
You flatten your lips together, trying to control yourself.
âHavingâŠ?â he challenges. The mocking tone of his voice is what makes you snap.
âA job,â you reply. âNot everyone can live off of daddyâs money.â
Rafe huffs a laugh, a wisp of amusement flashing on his face.
âCareful, Pogue,â he says. âWhatâll your boss say if he knows thatâs how youâre talking to me?â
âIâm off the clock, Kook,â you say the label with the same vitriol. âI can talk however I want.â
You close your book and start up your cart before he can irritate you any more. Even though thereâs something aggravatingly magnetic about him, you refuse to allow him to taunt you any longer.
·········
You meet up with your friends on the beach that evening, zoning out as the three of them chatter around you, passing a joint you brought.
You stare ahead at the soft waves under the setting sun, thinking of Rafeâs cold stare, thinking of the smirk he seems to always have etched on his face reserved especially for you, thinking of how you wish your body would catch up with your mind because how can you dislike somebody this much but also be so attracted to them?
âWhoâs your plug?â JJ asks, seemingly impressed. He pulls you out of your daze as he passes you the joint. Smoke curls out of the end of it, twisting in the wind.
âThat guy, Porter,â you say flatly. You take a puff, thinking back to the shaggy-haired Kook who approached you at a party on the north side of the island the other night, offering you half the price on your first buy.
He also tried to convince you to try something harder, but you told him youâre sticking to pot. You werenât about to get hooked on coke, especially not because a drug-dealing Kook wants to take more of your money.
You continue to stare ahead, passing the joint along.
âWhat a trust fund kid name,â JJ laughs. âFuckinâ Porter.â
Your friends chuckle around you, but you continue to stare ahead.
âHard day at the office?â he says in response to your absentmindedness. You meet JJâs gaze, shaking your head as if to dismiss your own thoughts.
âRafe is such an asshole,â you say.
âWhatâd he do this time?â Pope asks. Your friends await your response, already well aware of your history with the bullshit youâve ever had to deal with at work lately.
âHe said something about ratting me out to my boss for talking back to him,â you reply. You scoff, getting mad all over again. You need to pull yourself out of this funk. âWhatever. All I do is complain about him. Heâs not worth it. This is the last time youâll ever hear me talk about him. I mean it.â
You make an effort to join in your friendsâ conversations, feeling guilty that youâre so spaced out. With parents who never give you much attention at all, the guys surrounding you are your family. Your brothers. They deserve better than to hear you ramble on about Rafe.
Rafeâs eyes travel over the silhouettes sitting along the darkening shoreline when he arrives at the beach with his friends.
Itâs the sound of his pick-up truckâs door shutting that gets your attention. You look over your shoulder. Then, you glance away, indifference on your face.
It pisses him off. Rafe has always craved what he canât have. Power. Self-control. You. Every time he talks to you, you act like heâs such a bother, a sharp thorn in your side.
You get under his skin. And heâs never wanted a girl this bad. A goddamn Pogue of all people. Something about you lures him in. It makes him want to see what really lies behind the irritation that burns in your eyes every time he speaks to you.
He needs to crack your armor. And he has always loved a challenge.
As the beach populates, the division between the Kooks and the Pogues is clear, as if an invisible line is drawn in the sand. He stays on his side, you stay on yours.
When night falls, you and your friends have all smoked through the entire joint, and youâre a bit buzzed but not nearly as high as youâd like to be.
You spot Porter by the shoreline, drinking with his friends, and dust the sand off your knees when you stand up.
âIâm gonna go buy some more,â you say to your friends.
âGoing into enemy territory?â JJ asks.
âItâs nothing new to me,â you laugh. âI work in enemy territory, remember?â
âYou need company? Or cash?â John B asks.
âAll good. My treat,â you say. âIâm loaded with tips.â
You donât mention that a majority of the money in your pocket is from Rafe.
As you approach the boisterous group, you cross your arms and feign confidence. In reality, being around these types has always put you on edge.
Kooks give off a sense of invincibility, almost impunity, like predators at the top of the food chain, perpetually safe from harm and always on the brink of inflicting it.
You notice Rafeâs stare on you from his place in the large group and your stomach twists. Your eyes flit off of him and you wonder how itâs possible to wish someone would stay away but also so deeply crave theyâd come closer.
Truthfully, within the tangled way he makes you feel, youâre kind of scared of Rafe, too. Heâs reckless and unpredictable. And yet, that side of him excites you. Thereâs a complexity to him that has an inescapable effect on you.
âYou holding?â you ask Porter once you approach him. Heâs one of the few Kooks you donât mind so much. He doesnât have the cold air of arrogance that youâre so used to.
âItâs good shit, isnât it?â he says with a smile. âHow much you want?â
You leaf through the bills in your hand.
âJust a joint,â you say. The waves crash behind you, almost drowning your voice out. You make the exchange and push through the crowd, eager to get back to your friends.
You thought you managed to get away without any complications, but two words stop you.
âYou lost?â
You turn to see Rafe, overwhelming heat rushing through you as he closes the distance between you, towering over you as the breeze brushes his hair over his forehead.
âWhat, âcause Iâm on your side of the beach?â you mutter. âGrow up.â
Rafe smirks. He gets such a kick out of fucking with the Pogues. Especially you.
âIs that what youâre spending my tips on?â he asks, eyes darting down to the joint in your hand.
âYeah,â you answer. âYou can tell your father I say thanks.â
Rafeâs mouth curls into a bigger smile. When he looks at you like that, like he wants to be around you, you wonder if he secretly enjoys your company.
âHow long you been buying from him?â Rafe asks.
âWhy?â you say. The way you glare at him makes every muscle in his body tense. Heâd be an idiot to deny how attracted he is to you. âYou gonna tell my boss?â
âIt was a fucking joke,â he mutters with a laugh. âYou Pogues all have sticks up your asses, I swear.â
You grit your teeth. Heâs clearly pleased when he riles you up like this. You donât understand how somebody could be so spiteful.
âWhat do you want, Rafe?â you say.
Silence settles between you, the chattering of people on either side of the beach intertwined in the air, an overlap of worlds far apart. He reminds himself that he has something important to ask you.
âDid he offer you anything else?â he says. Youâve already heard the gossip about how Rafeâs selling coke now. He must want to offer you a better price.
âIâm not interested in whatever youâre selling,â you reply. Rafe scoffs, his tongue jutting under his cheek as he takes you in.
âIâd never sell to you.â
You huff a flat chuckle. Youâre tired of his juvenile obsession with the class divide that sits between you.
âSo, Iâm good enough to serve you drinks, but not good enough to buy your drugs?â
You feel a sick sense of satisfaction when his face hardens with anger. For a second, you worry that youâre just as spiteful as he is, that youâre no better than him.
Rafe scoffs. Heâs seen what coke does to people. To himself. He refuses to see it happen to you. But of course you expect the worst of him. Like everyone else does.
âDid he offer you anything else or not?â Rafe repeats with a note of irritation.
âWhy?â you sputter.
âI need to know if heâs trying to steal from me.â
Rafe refuses to be in competition with anyone. Other Kooks can sell weed all they want, but coke is his territory, and if he has to claim his territory, so be it. Heâs heard rumblings that Porterâs expanded his offerings now. And Rafe isnât going to let him fuck him over.
âHe did,â you finally answer. âCoke. He said itâs the purest on the island.â
He only nods tersely, lips twisting in frustration, before he turns around and storms away from you. So, thatâs all he wanted from you. Information.
âYouâre welcome,â you half-shout. Curiosity pulls you in as your eyes follow him into the crowd. Sure enough, Rafe pushes Porter to the ground, shouting indistinctly, earning jeers from the crowd.
Itâs typical. Nearly every time you see Rafe out socially, heâs yelling and fighting someone. You walk back to your friends, hoping you can shake off the feeling he left you with.
·········
The only thing getting you through your shift the next day is that tomorrow is a holiday. The night of the Fourth of July is an escape from the stresses of your life, an excuse to get wasted with your friends under the fireworks and let yourself drift off into oblivion.
After you clock out, youâre pacing through the country clubâs bar when you hear your name called from the patio. You look to see Porter sitting at a table with a couple of friends, his smile wide.
âDidnât know you worked here,â he says when you approach.
âYeah, Iâm a server on the course,â you explain. You almost expect him to ignorantly ask for a drink, but have to remind yourself that heâs not like Rafe.
âHow is it?â
âItâs fine.â
âCome on, we wonât tell,â Porter chuckles. âYou hate it, donât you?â
âOnly sometimes,â you reply with a laugh. âDepends on the day. And on the person Iâm dealing with.â
âFair enough,â he says. He pulls out his phone, punching in the password. âI meant to tell you last night that you should have my number. You know, for when you need to stock up.â
You take his phone, cluing in that heâs making himself more accessible to you for the next time you need to buy from him. As you text yourself his name, one of the men at the table motions to Porter.
âBro,â his friend says, gaze trained ahead. Porter looks past you to the bar and shakes his head in disbelief.
âCanât escape him,â he sighs.
You follow his eyeline to spot Rafe at the bar with a friend, dark liquor sitting in the glass heâs holding.
âNot a fan?â you ask.
âIs anyone?â Porter laughs. âHeâs a nutcase.â
âDonât let him hear you,â his friend murmurs.
âYeah, heâll kill you,â the other guy laughs.
âI wouldnât put it past him,â Porter replies.
Your eyes linger on Rafe a second longer than they need to. Your curiosity for why heâs the way he is is like a flame that wonât burn out. He has everything he could possibly want. Why is he so mean?
âYeah,â is all you can say. You turn around again and give Porter his phone back.
âOh, thereâs a party at my beach house tomorrow night. My neighbor does this crazy fireworks thing every year,â he tells you. âIâll text you the address.â
You nod appreciatively, glad that at least some of the rich people you deal with donât buy into the idea that youâre beneath them.
·········
Itâs nearing nine p.m. when you make it to the beach house the next night. The guys are rambling on behind you as you step inside the massive, humid house, filled with chattering people and loud music.
âWhere are your car keys?â Pope asks.
âRight here,â JJ says, jingling them in front of his face. âDo I need to show you every five minutes?â
âIâll just take them,â Pope says, grabbing them and stuffing them in his pocket. âYou canât be trusted.â
âIt was one time,â JJ says. You laugh as you think of last weekend when heâd lost his car keys at a party in the Cut.
âYeah, and we had to search the sand for, like half an hour,â you remind him.
âYou know what Iâm not hearing?â JJ says. âA thank you for driving all the time.â
âRemind me, who actually drove last time?â John B asks. âAnd who was hurling in the backseat?â
JJ scratches the back of his neck.
âIâm a man of honor,â he says. âIâm not not going to chug when Iâm told to chug.â His eyes fix on something across the room. âSpeaking ofâŠâ
He heads towards the keg and you and Pope share a disapproving shake of your heads. You follow your friends, grabbing a solo cup and sipping on beer.
A few minutes later, your phone buzzes with a text from Porter: You here? Want to buy?
Youâve already smoked through the joint you bought two nights ago and quickly reply: yes.
He texts: come upstairs.
âIâll be right back,â you quickly tell your friends before you push through the crowd.
You duck under the string tied across the bottom of staircase, a sign that warns partygoers that itâs off limits hanging in the middle. One door is open in the upstairs hallway. You see Porter sitting on a bed, rolling a joint on a book thatâs sitting in his lap.
âHey. Got a fresh one for you,â he says.
âThanks.â You dig into your pocket. âSame price?â
âSure.â He cocks his head. âItâll take a while. You can come in and chill.â
You sit at his desk close to the door, talking as he packs the thin white paper.
When he stands up, instead of giving the joint to you, he darts across the room abruptly. Your brows knit in confusion when he shuts the door, the loud music reduced to muffles now.
âWhat are you doing?â you ask, fear twisting your heart in a vise.
He must have read things wrong.
You assume heâll stop when you tell him no.
He doesnât.
·········
You fall to the hard floor. You grip the edge of the bed, hardly any light spilling into the room from the hallway as you blink rapidly to gain your bearings.
A loud slam was what woke you up. You donât remember falling asleep. You donât even know where you are.
Two shadowy figures stand on the other side of the room. One roughly pushes the other to the floor. You stay still, peeking over the bed. Your body is trembling with pain and you donât know why.
âDo you think Iâm joking?â a man spits.
You know that voice. Itâs Rafe.
âDude, relax,â the man on the floor says.
You might be sick. Itâs Porter on the floor, whimpering like an idiot. You remember why your body is aching now.
He hurt you. He hurt you and you retreated into your mind and you fell unconscious. A cold swirl of anger and disgust and sadness twists your stomach into a knot.
âI told you to stay out of my fucking way,â Rafe shouts. âWhereâs your stash?â
âIn the desk,â Porter says quietly. âJust take it. Iâll stick to selling weed, okay? You have my word.â
You watch from the floor, Rafeâs broad figure leaning to pull open drawers and shove items off the desk, objects clattering on the floor in the dark. They donât know youâre here.
Consciousness slowly grips you. Rafe confronted him about selling coke. He told him to stop. And Porter didnât listen.
Your eyes flood with hot tears. He didnât listen to you, either.
You just want to leave. To get out of this horrifying room. To figure out how to put yourself back together after surviving one of the worst ways a person can break another.
Loud fireworks abruptly crack in the sky, startling you, shining light in through the window. And thatâs when you see it. Porter is by the other side of the bed, still on the floor, and in his raised hand, something is gleaming.
A gun.
âRafe!â Your throat is dry, sore from the way youâd screamed.
He suddenly turns towards you, confusedly finding your face across the room. Then, his gaze snaps down at Porter. He notices the gun. And he lunges.
You stand on shaky knees as you watch Rafe land vicious punches, every blow making Porter groan.
âGonna pull a gun when my back is turned, pussy?â Rafe bellows. âReally?â
You round the bed, staring in horror, your mind still in fragmented shambles. Youâd told Porter to stop so many times and every strike of Rafeâs knuckles against his jaw gives you a jolt of satisfaction, a desire for him to suffer more.
He was never a nice guy. Heâs just like all of them. A predator.
Rafe scrambles to his feet, heavily breathing as fireworks continue their pops and sizzles over the beach.
The gun is in his hand now. His heart is thrumming, his blood boiling hot. He couldâve died. If you didnât call his name, he couldâve lost his life.
Rafeâs steady and firm, holding the weapon still, a sharp contrast to how hard youâre shaking.
âDo it,â you say. Rafeâs eyes finds yours, his lips parted, blood splattered on his face. Itâs not his. Porter didnât land any punches. Rafe beat him that badly.
âWhat?â Porter cries. âAre you insane?â
Heâs staring up at both of you through wide eyes as the barrel of the gun remains directed at him. You imagine how terrifying you must look to him, standing over him in the dim room with his pathetic life in your hands.
âMe?â you mutter. Hatred courses through your veins when you glare at him as he lies on his side, bloodied and weak.
The power has shifted into your hands. He was the one looking down at you earlier, hurting you. And now that your body is yours again, you donât hesitate to kick him in the stomach.
He grunts when you make contact, his body curling forward.
Rafe watches, rendered speechless. He thought heâd seen you angry before. He hasnât. This is new. This is pure rage. This is a level of wrath he didnât know you were capable of.
Even through the darkness, Rafe can see that your eyes are shiny with tears when you turn your head to look at him again.
âWhat the fuck are you waiting for?â you snap, your words dripping with agony and rage. âIf you donât do it, I will.â
Rafe is powerless against the angry, malevolent instinct thatâs guided him all his life. He doesnât think.
The blow of the gun cuts through the air.
Your breath catches.
And heâs just a body. Lifeless on the floor. Gone.
You look up at Rafe. Your chests are heaving, broken and shaky breaths spilling out of your mouths. The colors lighting up the night sky tint your tear-streaked face. Heâs never seen agony personified. He has now.
You glance down at Porter again. His mouth is agape. His eyes are shut. Forever. Forever.
âOh, my God,â you whimper. Hot tears fall over your cheeks so quickly that you fear theyâll never stop. The adrenaline escapes you like water spinning down a drain, replaced with a bottomless dread.
Rafe realizes heâs still pointing the gun. He lowers his arm, his palm sweating against the grip. He had to do it. He had to. He didnât know that taking a life would feel this good. He doesnât feel a shred of regret or remorse. For once, he has real power.
But then he watches the way you sink down to the floor.
âWhat did weâŠâ you whisper, words rushed. âWhat did we do? Rafe, what did we do?â
Thereâs a dead body next to you. Cold permeates your bones. You know itâs the type of chill that will never leave you.
Rafe kneels in front of you. The gun hits the floor with a heavy thump. The air smells like gunpowder, fried and smoking. Heâs trying to meet your eyes, but your gaze is skittering around as you sit, crumpled and trembling.
âHey,â he says clearly.
Youâre staring at the ground, your breaths shallow.
âHey,â he repeats louder. Finally, you look at him. âIt was self-defense.â
You nod weakly, processing how within a second, youâve tangled yourselves together into a knot that you can never unravel. Rafe pulled the trigger, but you told him to. And youâre sure you wouldâve done it yourself if Rafe didnât. Youâre murderers.
Rafeâs hand is an inch away from you, almost putting it on yours, almost touching someone with tenderness instead of anger for once. You saved his life. You loathe him, but you saved his life, reacting in a split second.
âWhy were you even up here?â he asks.
âJust be glad I was,â you say, hoping itâs enough to satisfy him.
âYeah. Yeah,â he mumbles. âThank you.â
If you werenât so shellshocked, youâd laugh. You never expected Rafe to have manners, and you never expected that if he did, itâd be a show of gratitude for helping him kill somebody.
Nausea pools in your gut at the reminder of why you were so angry. Did Porter plan it? Did he always have his sights set on you, like a vulture circling the sky, ready to attack?
What happened earlier tonight flashes through your mind. He deserved to die. He did something unforgivable. He said things about how girls always do this, they always tease but never give it up.
You didnât just save Rafe. You saved all the girls who were fated to cross that monsterâs path. You pushed a soul to its death, but it was one not worthy of life.
Rafe stares at you as you blink rapidly, your mind clearly racing.
âHe rip you off or something?â he asks, at a loss for why youâd encourage him to pull the trigger.
Of course Rafe thinks itâs about money. Thatâs all that matters to him.
âYeah,â you lie, voice cracking. You canât tell him. You canât relive it. Especially with someone who you know is cold-blooded. Someone who might blame you for coming up to this bedroom in the first place.
Tease. Porter called you a tease while you pleaded for him to stop. You drop your head in your hands, chest stuttering with your breathy cries, remembering how heâd hurt you.
Rafe stares at you, confused, wondering how you could be so angry and vengeful and ruthless, just to regret it a second after the bullet left the chamber.
âWe had to do it,â he states.
âI know,â you tell him. You wipe your cheeks with your palms, well aware that he could never understand why youâre really crying. âWeâll just tell the truth.â
He shakes his head at you.
âTell who the truth?â Rafe mutters, his stare hard. âWeâre not telling anybody.â
Your breath shakes. He wants to hide this. To try to get away with it.
âWhat if someone heard the gunshot?â you murmur.
âEveryoneâs outside,â he says. âAnd those stupid fireworks are so fucking loud. Nobody could tell the difference.â
You wipe your face again, considering his words. Your phone is buzzing in your pocket. Someoneâs calling you. Surely one of your friends. Why didnât you just tell them where you were going? Why didnât you just have one of them come upstairs with you?
Impatience quickly rises in Rafe while you stay silent.
âI almost knocked him out the other night,â he says. âIn front of everyone. You think backing me up would be enough for anyone to believe I was protecting myself?â
You chew on your bottom lip anxiously. Rafe has a reputation for being violent. Porter put up a front that he was a nice guy. His friends even said right in front of you that Rafe would kill him. Whoâd believe that Porter actually pointed a gun first?
Besides, if you vouched for him, whoâs to say theyâd trust you? They could spin it and say Rafe paid off a Pogue to lie for him.
âAnd then the cops would dig and find out it was over coke,â Rafe sputters. âItâd be a fucking mess. Weâre not telling anybody.â
Heâs right. Confessing wouldnât do you any good, either. It could go sideways and you could never afford a good lawyer.
Nobody deserves to be punished for taking down the evil, lifeless man lying on the floor. Not you. Not even Rafe. You wonât take the risk.
You gaze into Rafeâs eyes, finding comfort in the striking blue hue for the first time, feeling a newfound sense of loyalty to him.
He gave you vengeance in a world that would never punish the man who hurt you. Youâre in this together.
âOkay,â you whisper. âWhat do we do now?â
âWe get rid of the body.â
next >
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#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe cameron#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe x y/n
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broken promises | rafe cameron
pairing - rafe cameron x female reader
warnings - angst, mature language, mentions of infidelity.
summary - after coming home to rafe in bed with another girl, he tries to break up with you, claiming 'it's for your own good'. you don't let him, not allowing him to play the victim. there's a plot twist at the end btw :)
masterlist
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"it's for your own good, y/n. you know it is."
the room is heavy with tension as you stand in front of rafe. as you stand in front of the man who, for the past three years, always told you he'd do anything for you, who told you how much he loved you every day. now all those words feel meaningless.
he's sat on the edge of the bed, jaw clenched as he watches you pace in front of him. his gaze is fixed on the floor, unable to meet yours while your words punch through the air. his hands are interlocked, resting in his lap as if he's trying to restrain himself from grabbing you and forcing you to let him explain. but it's too late for that now.
"no, no, no, rafe," you say, voice trembling but getting louder with each word, "you do not get to have the satisfaction of ending this relationship. i won't let you sit here and pretend you're ending it for me when you're the one who fucked up."
your voice echoes off the walls that once contained your shared love and laughter but now contain heartbreak and infidelity. the sheets of the bed are still messy and as you glance at them, they do nothing but fuel your rage. your chest is heaving and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. the anger and betrayal course through your veins as you try to make sense of what you came home to.
"sofia." her name makes you sick to your stomach as you say it.
rafe closes his eyes, like if he can't see the mess he created it'll all go away. he lets out a shaky breath but still remains silent. you laugh dryly when he doesn't respond and his head snaps up to meet your gaze.
"say something." you demand, "say something, rafe. or i swear to god i'll walk out of here right now."
he inhales deeply, running a hand over his buzzed hair, "what do you want me to say, huh? that i regret it? of course i fucking do, but it's happened! i can't do anything to change that."
your mind is racing, thoughts consumed with images of him and sofia together. of her standing right where you are now, her laying where you lay every night.
"wow," you whisper, kissing your teeth, "you don't even care do you? you don't even care that i had to see the love of my life in my bed with another girl."
"our be-"
"don't!" you cut him off, "don't you dare say our bed, rafe. i don't want to share anything with you after what you've done."
"y/n, please, i'm sorry," he says, vulnerability lacing his words, "i never wanted this to happen."
"never wanted it to happen or never wanted me to find out?" you scoff, "you're not the victim here, rafe. nothing about this makes you the victim. not only did you cheat on me, but you're trying to end this with me? i don't think so."
his eyes darken and he lets out another shaky breath. you're staring at him intensely, waiting for his next move, for him to do something. he stands up, stepping closer to you and attempts to touch your arm before you step back.
"don't touch me." you warn, voice cracking slightly, "just... i'm gonna go. i can't be here right now."
his face falls, the depth of the mess he created finally setting in. he watches as you grab your bag, shuffling around for something inside until you find it.
"i'm pregnant, by the way," you announce, throwing the pregnancy test at him before turning around and leaving, "merry fucking christmas, rafe."
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Please, Please, Please (Rafe's Edition)
Inspired by the song Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter
Rafe Cameron x Reader Tag List
Synopsis: Being with Rafe, a notorious hotheaded drug dealer, you knew others would question your relationshipâ especially your parents, who had never been fond of him. But when his habits had been too much to handle, you knew that you would prefer heartbreak to a broken ego.Â
Warnings: ÂżSlight Angst?,Possessiveness, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Semi-Public Relations, Not ProofreadÂ
Word Count: 4,480
You took a riskâa big one at that. Rafe had always been a boy your parents, friends, and almost everyone warned you about, but you ignored their qualms, for there was this persistent pull to him that you could not deny.Â
Growing up, it was plain that he was a bully. He was always one to torment other children in the playground or at school, but you were saved from his hostility, him only as going as far as teasing you because you were easily baited. Later, he did admit that it was his only way to gain your attention. You had hoped he would grow out of his tormenting ways when the two of you reached maturity, but it only severed. He always got into pointless and petty fights and was scolded by his teachers and father as he was often suspended from school, but their warnings did nothing to deter him. When you reached high school, you once again hoped he would clean up his act, wanting to fall fully for him, but his rash decision, raging temper, and ill vices had only multipliedâ hindering you from admitting the attraction you had to him since childhood.Â
It was plain that any pull you had towards him should be ignored and buried deep inside, for he only came with trouble. It also did not help that he had doubled his efforts to show his interest in you. Giving you little gifts and trinkets he knew you were entirely fond of. Scaring away any romantic prospects, labeling you as âhisâ though nothing between you two was truly set in stone. So, you could not help yourself to succumb to himâ to finally be his, just like your heart in childhood longed for. As years passed, you would silently beg him not to prove you rightâ that he could overcome the judgments passed on him, but your pleas were moot, for Rafe could never fully shed the true yet cruel perceptions of him.Â
You tried to keep him at armâs length for as long as you could, but even the mightiest and most stubborn of soldiers falter and lose their sensibilities. The two of you started with hookups, not entirely romantic, yes, but it was enough for you to fall further for him. You would often sneak around at parties, making out in the bathroom or an empty closet or even a dark corner somewhere. You thought the both of you could live happily even though no one knew you were with him, so no one could pass their judgments. Things were quick to escalate with you giving him your first kiss to him taking your first time.Â
âRafe,â You cried out in pain, him drawing circles upon your sensitive bud as his well-endowed length pushed its way in you, him hushing and kissing your tears away as he fully sheathed himself in your cuntâ finally taking all of you after years of patience and restraint. âJust a little more, pretty girl⊠youâll be a good girl for me, wonât you?â He hissed as he felt you clench around him, your cunt tighter than he had hoped, and Rafe felt lightheaded. You nodded weakly and looked at him through teared-filled eyes. âFucking hell, baby⊠you feel so fucking good,â Rafe groaned as he cautiously thrust into you, waiting for your pained expression to turn to pleasure.Â
âRafe⊠oh god, Iâ just like that,â you said, almost incoherently. âSuch a good girl taking all of my cock⊠you have no idea how long Iâve waited for this⊠how long Iâve wanted you.â Rafe gritted through pleasure. That night, you knew there was no turning back; every part of you was Rafeâs that even your mind could not even find caution.Â
However, just like in any other relationship, there were trials. Your trial was to keep Rafe at bay, not to let him sink into his addiction and violence. Your earnest effort was poured into his rehabilitation and to calm his forever violent being. Rafeâs trial was you keeping your relationship a secret. He wanted to shout it and make it known throughout the Outer Banks that you were his. That the only girl he had ever wantedâ loved was finally his, but you were persistent in keeping the both of you a secret, having to sneak around. The touches, longing, pleasure, and love need to be hidden in the dark. Sometimes, he wondered if you were ashamed of him, but he did not like dwelling on the thought, for it only brought devastation in him. There was a painful throb in his chest and a pit in his stomach when he would think of the matter.Â
âRafe, do you really have to⊠do this?â You asked as your eyes flew towards the packet of white substance he was planning to sell at a party you two would attend later that day. âYou know I have to, baby⊠itâll be quick, I swear. Those kids always sell out my stock,â He sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You licked your lips and stared at his chest, unable to meet his eyes. Rafe had stopped using the moment the two of you went official, but no matter what half-hearted ultimatum you threw at him, you could not hinder him from engaging in illegal dealings.Â
âBut what if you get caught⊠your father hââ Rafe sighed and kissed your lips shut. He appreciated your concern greatly; you were the only one who genuinely cared and loved him, but he could not listen to your concern, for he had no actual choice but to sell. He had great financial needs, especially because you were with him; he needed to support both of you. To show you that he can provide you with the well-off life you already lived. Yes, his family did have money, a great deal of it, but he didnât have the want to be indebted and be under his fatherâs thumb.Â
âI wonât. Stop worrying, baby; you know it makes your stomach upset,â It was half concern and half tease; you could only roll your eyes at his words. âJust⊠just be safeâ be cautious andââ Rafe kissed your lips shut once more, smirking against your lips as he could not help but be flattered by your concern. âI know what Iâm doing.â He said confidently. You were unconvinced but still gave a nod, not wanting to push and anger him.Â
True enough to his word, nothing of note happened at the party, much to your relief. The following day, you did not expect to see Rafe, for you had told him you were busy with engagements with your parents. âWhat are you doing here?â You asked with a frantic smile as you felt arms wrap around you. You were in the country clubâs restaurant waiting for your parents to arrive.Â
Rafe did not answer your question; he simply just connected your lips, and your eyes grew wide. From where you sat, you gently pushed him away, and you felt guilt course your system as you saw hurt in his ocean eyes. âMy parents are here,â You say warily, further putting distance between you. Rafe stood straight and frowned, âSo?â He asked, and you smoothened the fabric of your dress in nervousness. âYou know why,â You say softly, and you hear him scoff and shake his head. âBaby, itâs been two years⊠how long are you gonna hide us?â He asked, and you felt further guilt take over you. You parted your lips to speak but you hear your parents call for your name, making you stand in surprise and hesitantly greet them.Â
âSo sorry weâre late, darling; your father and I could not escape our meeting!â Your mother sighed and patted your cheek affectionately. âOh, you have company,â Your mother said in surprise as she noticed Rafe standing behind you. You feel your stomach drop as your fatherâs eyes fly to Rafe. âYouâre Wardâs son, arenât you?â He asked, uncertain as he and your mother only spent scarce time on the island. âRafael, was it?â Your father asked, and you chewed on your cheek as you watched their interaction. âRafe,â he gritted, and you gave him a look, â⊠sir. Itâs Rafe,â He corrected, and your father nodded in acknowledgment.Â
You took in a deep breath as your father assisted your mother to sit and motioned for you to do the same, but you were hesitant as Rafe still stood by the side of your table. You look to your mother, and she purses her lips, âBye, Rafe, tell Sarah Iâll see her later,â You suddenly say as his cue to leave; you clench your hands around the fabric of your dress as you see anger and hurt in his eyes as the words left your lips, expecting you to invite him to your familyâs meal and hopefully reveal your relationship to your parents. âYeah, see you around,â He gritted out and stomped out of the restaurant, anger exuding from him.Â
You took a menu into your hands and finally let out a breath of relief. âI donât want you to associate yourself with that type of company,â Your father suddenly said. You lowered the menu in your hands, âWhat?â You asked quietly. âI do not want you to associate yourself with that boy,â You blinked at your fatherâs words. âHeâs Sarahâs brother,â You say meekly. âEven so. He only comes with trouble, darling. We are here only a handful of months every year, but the rumors and talk about him and his⊠habits are deafening,â Your mother chimed in, and you lowered your gaze. âWe are not hindering you from being friends with Sarah, but it would be best if you keep your distance from her brotherâ we donât need you being influenced by that, Rafe,â You bit your lip as you slowly nodded, your parents expecting a response of agreement from you.Â
After the day spent with your parents, you rushed towards Tannyhill as you feel Rafe was not too happy with you. He would usually message and call you throughout the day to see how you were, but not even one notification came from him, rendering you further in guilt. âIâm so sorry,â You say in a plea as you knelt on Rafeâs bed, him sitting idly by the headboard, avoiding your gaze, a prominent furrow in his brows. You placed your hand on his leg, and you sighed as he moved his limb away from your touch. You watched as he crossed his arms across his chest and turned further away from you. It shouldnât amuse you, but he looked like a little kid who was on the verge of a tantrum.Â
âI really am sorry. I just wasnât ready to tell them yet,â You say and move closer to Rafe, taking hold of his hand. âItâs been two years. If you still arenât ready now, when will you be?â He grumbled, and you bit your lip.Â
âRafe, you know itâs complicated, my parents areâŠâ You trailed, unable to find the word. âJust fucking say youâre ashamed of me!â Rafe seethed and stood from his bed. Your lips parted in shock at his words, âThatâs not true! I love you; I will never be ashamed of you!â You defended and stood as well, following close to him. âYeah? Then why the fuck are we a secret?â You lowered your gaze in shame as he screamed at you. âBecause my parents wonât approve,â You said truthfully. âRafe, they still see you as a hothead junkie⊠and I know youâve changedâ Iâve seen you change, but they havenât. And they're just⊠they donât want me near you,â You said, and Rafe shook his head, a gnawing feeling in his gut. He didnât care for the otherâs opinion of him, but now he could not help but too because your parentâs opinion of him was what was hindering you from being fully his.Â
âI just fear that if we tell them now, theyâll take drastic measures toâ to separate us,â You say in fear. âWhat?â He asked and made you lift your gaze and look at him. âTheyâve been wanting to move to New York for a while nowâ for the business, but I keep insisting on staying here,â You admitted, having hidden that information from Rafe for a year because you didnât want it to go in between your relationship. You hear Rafeâs ragged breathing, âHow much longer?â He asked in aggravation. âI donât know,â You say truthfully. âThatâs not a fucking answer,â You hear how hard he tried hard to control his rage, to not point his anger at you.Â
âRafe,â you sighed. âI know how youâve changedâ Iâve watched you change, and I am so proud of you⊠but,â You bit your lip as you tried to decide if you should continue speaking. âBut what?â He seethed. âYou still deal drugs⊠you havenât cut the final tie to that life,â You say lowly. âBaby, you know why I do it,â You furrowed your brow; do you truly know why? You began to wonder. Rafe saw your confusion and spoke once more.Â
âIâm doing it for usâ for you, so I can support you. So we can be free in the future. Just you and me.â He said and cupped your cheeks, but his explanation did not aid your bewilderment. âRafe, you know I am not with you for money⊠I donât need you to provide for me, and I most certainly donât need tainted currency.âÂ
âI know you donât need me to provide for youâ I want to provide for you,â You sighed as your heart doubled at his words. âI appreciate that⊠but, my love, there are other ways⊠when we build our life together, we donât need this type of money. We could find jobs in the meantime, and in a few years, Iâll have hold of my trust fund; we could use that to build the life we want.â Rafe shook his head at the solution you presented, it was simply not good enough for him. He would not subject you to finding a job and dipping into your trust fund just because he could not provide for you properly.Â
âDonât be stubborn,â you sighed, âRafe⊠Iâ This canât go on, âcauseââ you quickly halted your words before you uttered something you might regret. âCause what?â Rafe questioned, and his frown deepened as you took off his hold on your face. âRafe, I love you.. but I canât be with you if you still do this,â You said, solemnly. Rafe felt his stomach twist at your words.Â
âYou accused me of being ashamed of you⊠I am not, I could never be.â You spoke, voice already heavy with emotion. âI am, however, ashamed of what you doâ Iâm sorryâ I know you are doing it with the purest of intentions, but there are other ways to earn money; you know there are.â Rafe felt his body turn rigged with rage. âAnd think of the scandal of it all⊠I love you, but please, please, please, you must understand that I cannot tarnish my and my familyâs reputation with this,â You feel a tear fall from your eyes, and you cannot even stomach to look at Rafe in the eyes.Â
âGet out,â You hear him say through gritted teeth after a moment of steely silence passed. You finally placed your gaze upon his and all you could see was anger and hurt, âGet the fuck out!â He screamed, and you backed away, not challenging him anymore, and just did as he told. As you sat at his bedroom door, you bit your tongue to stifle a sob as you heard him let out his rage, thrashing and ruining his room, throwing and breaking anything and everything.Â
Three weeks passed, and you did nothing but mourn your secret relationship with Rafe. You barely left the house, actively avoiding the places you knew you would see him in. Only going out on the days you had memorized he had âbusinessâ to attend to and wonât be out of town. A part of you felt entirely guilty, ending it and crushing your heart and his, but the more rational part of you saw that it was needed. Heartbreak is one thing, but your ego is certainly another. And you thought you could handle a broken heart better than a tarnished reputation.Â
âHey!â You hear banging at your front door, and you frown from where you sit in the living room. You made cautious steps as the door pounded. You would lie if the violent banging of the wooden door did not make you hope it was Rafe, but as you looked through the peephole, you saw his sister. âSarah?â You asked as you opened the door, and she smiled at you. âWhere have you been? Youâve been MIA the past few weeks! Are you sick?â She asked as you ushered her inside your house.Â
âUhm⊠just havenât been feeling well,â You fibbed as you took her to the kitchen and handed her some refreshments. âAre you better now?â You gave her a forced smile and nodded your head. âGreat! Because youâre coming with me to a party!â You frowned at her words, âI donât know⊠Iâm not really up for a party,â You say softly, and Sarah shakes her head. âCome on! Itâs Topâs birthdayâ he even sent me here to convince you we miss you!â Sarah pleaded, and your broken heart grew warm at her words. You took a moment before answering, âFine,â You sighed and you saw clear excitement in her eyes as she had convinced you.Â
âWhen is it?â You asked as Sarah took hold of your wrist. âNow! Come one, letâs get you ready!â You laughed as she hurriedly led you to your room and ready you for the party. âThere are a lot of cute guys there⊠might wanna get to know them,â You could only blink at her words. Sarah sighed as you stood before your closet, âI⊠I know about you and Rafe,â She suddenly confessed, and you could not find it in yourself to be surprised. âAnd Iâm not trying to bum you out, but maybe you should try to move on, find someone else⊠he certainly has,â You feel your heart pit at the last words she mumbled. âWhat?â You asked meekly. Sarah fidgeted with her fingers, âHeâs been fucking his way through the island,â She said lowly. You sucked on your lip; you did expect it. He was a notorious playboy before you two went official, so it was only fitting he waltzes back into old patterns after your relationshipâs demise.Â
As you entered the party with Sarah, you squared your shoulders and avoided the dark corners of the house, knowing that is where Rafe would be. You barely entered the threshold when someone already came up to you, âCan I get you a drink?â A tall guy with brown hair and hazel eyes asked you; you flashed him a quick smile and a nod, and he led you to a drinks table, Sarah whispering âgood luckâ in your ear as you departed from her side.Â
Rafe felt his eye twitch as he saw you by the drink table chatting with a guy wearing one of your dresses that was his favorite. His hold on the wad of cash grew tighter as you had a smile on your face and the guy leaning closer to you. âYo, dude, can I get my change?â Someone yelled at him through the blaring music. Rafe clenched his jaw and begrudgingly moved his eyes from you to hand the person their change. How could you just walk in this and flirt with guys as if you had not broken his heart? How could you bait him, lead in him with false promises and securityâ love and care for him like nobody else had, then just fucking leave!
You left the party proper, letting the guy you just met lead you to the backyard to where a swing set was, the both of you needing quiet to hold and actually conversation. He was not Rafe, did not come close, but maybe that was a good thing. You were grateful for the distraction, and if your heart were not so stubborn, you would be more interested in him. You did not know how long the both of you stayed chatting in the swing set, but when the both of you heard the distinct sound of a copâs car and kids running out of the house, you two quickly stood and saw what was happening.
You took a deep breath as you saw the scene before you: Rafe being handcuffed by the sheriff and his little packets being confiscated. You locked eyes with ocean-blue ones for the first time in three weeks, and you saw nothing but rage and hate in them. You chewed on your cheeks as they escorted Rafe out, and you left the guy you were with to find Sarah.Â
Rafe sat in the holding cell, staring blankly at the floor. He did not know how to process anything. He did not know if he should focus more on the fact that he was arrested or the scene he saw in the backyard with you chatting and laughing with some guy but the swing set. Rafe made himself more comfortable in his seat, certain he would stay the night there, but he was surprised as the cell doors were being unlocked. âGet up, Cameron; someone posted your bail.â Rafe blinked. Did his father truly come to get him? Who else would post his bail so quickly?
When Rafe walked out of holding, he saw you speaking with the sheriff, and he felt his knees grow weak. You turned to him, no word uttered before you stepped outside, and he simply followed. Rafe saw his truck parked outside, guessing one of his friends dropped you off before leaving because you never learned how to drive. Rafe sighed, took hold of the passenger side door handle, and opened the door for you, like always, hearing you mumble a quick âthanksâ before the two of you were enveloped in silence once more.Â
You sat stiffly in your seat as Rafe drove you home, but halfway through the drive, Rafe stopped by the side of the road. âWhy?â He suddenly asked as his truck came to an abrupt halt. âI know you didnât want to bring your dad into this,â You answered quietly. Rafe huffed and shook his head. âNoâ why the fuck did you end it?â Rafe confronted. âRafe, I told you, we canât be together with all this⊠shit! Iâ I canât be with you if you keep doing this. Do you know how scary it is for me? Besides being labeled as the girlfriend of a drug dealer⊠I have to wait for you to go home, hoping youâre unscathedâthat you didnât get into any danger. I donât want to live with that kind of anxiety, Rafe!â You paused your lips as you saw his tight grip on the steering wheel. You feel your eyes welling with tears, and you curse yourself as your tears will surely ruin your makeup.Â
âFine, Iâll⊠Iâll quit,â Rafe said after a moment, and you shook your head and crossed your arms. âDonât make empty promises, Rafe.â You sighed as he tried to take hold of your hand. âBaby, you know I always keep my promises⊠remember when I said Iâd quit doing drugs? I did it, didnât I? I did it for you, and Iâll do this for you again,â You swallowed thickly at Rafeâs words. âRafeâŠâ you trailed, not knowing what to say. âI swearâ I can put all of this behind, just⊠I canât lose you, not you.â Rafe pleaded and you could only reach forward and kiss him.Â
âIâm sorry⊠I didnât want it to come to thisâ I never wanted to give you an ultimatum buââ Rafe cut you off by kissing your lips once more, starved by the taste and feel of you. âI know, baby, I know.â He sighed as he pulled you towards his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he kissed yours. âSa⊠Sarah said youâve been sleeping around,â You say quietly as he leaves marks on your skin. âBullshit. You know I canât get it up for anyone else⊠I only want you,â Rafe breathed out and cupped your cheek. Between his past business and his wallowing for your relationship, where would he even find time or the want for other girls? You slowly nodded and decided to believe his words.Â
âIâve missed you,â You confessed and saw him smirk. âGood.â He answered and smashed your lips. He quickly undid the zipper of his jeans and hiked up your dress to your waist. You did not even notice it, but you were already so wet for him, your wanting aiding you to sink down on his cock. Rafe watched in amazement as your eyes rolled back and your lips parted as you let out a quiet moan. âOh god⊠Rafe,â you called out breathlessly, already feeling him brush over the sensitive spot in your cunt. This position was his favorite because he was able to take you deeply, have your body flushed against his, and, most importantly, he got to kiss your plush, sweet lips.Â
Rafe yanked down the top of your dress and took your tit into the cavern of his mouth as you bounced on his cock. âGod, youâre so pretty,â Rafe breathed out as you clenched further along his length. âAnd youâre all mine,â he added and gripped your behind. âYes⊠all yours,â You agreed as you moaned, the windowing of his truck fogging up. You grew careless at the passing cars, unable to find caution that the both of you might get caught, for you have missed Rafe and his cock terribly. âAre you gonna come, baby? Is my pretty girl gonna come?â Rafe hissed as he felt you rest your head on his broad shoulder; you often did that as you concentrated on reaching your peak.Â
He felt you nod, and he reached towards your breast to cup and pinch the bud, earning a loud moan from your lips. Rafe was quick to follow you, spilling his seed deep inside your cunt, as three weeks without you had made him desperate. âFuckâŠâ Rafe hissed, and you cupped his cheeks to kiss his lips.Â
You breathed heavily as you stared at his hazy eyes. âRafe?â You called and hummed. âPlease, donât prove âem right? Please?â You asked, and Rafe smiled, nodding his head. âAnything for you, pretty girl.âÂ
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WHO DID THIS TO YOU?ââRAFE CAMERON
free palestine carrd đ”đž decolonize palestine site đ”đž how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!
for this request, for my lovely jo! @wanderlusturous
â summary | you and rafe are consumed by an obsessive love, where their madness is fueled by each other. you find exhilaration in pushing boundaries, testing each otherâs limits, and the deeper you fall into your shared insanity, the tighter your bond becomes. when rafe finds you crying in your bedroom one day, he loses his shit and is thrown into a silent rage, seeking revenge. and you don't mind, not one bit.
â pairing | rafe cameron x fem!reader
â warnings | oh my god, where do i even begin?? obsessive rafe, like insane but reader reciprocates it. a few kisses but mostly just insane stuff. mention of drugging (not to reader), hacking (?), idk what else but this is lowkey insane...
â ev's notes | im gonna be honest, i don't know if i like this... but lmk if yall enjoyed it. it's a little too dark-themed for me and i got into it until i reread it and realized that it was lowkey insane but hey!!! whatever!!! anyway, pls lmk if this was too dark.. or if you enjoyed it. also, sorry to any becca's out there, it was just the first name that popped up. any feedback is always very appreciated!
ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!
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The night is suffocating, thick with tension that mirrors the pulse racing in your veins. Every sound, every breath, seems amplified, as if the world knows whatâs coming. You stand by the dock, your eyes on the dark water ahead, but your thoughts are elsewhereâon him.
Rafe.
You can already feel him, even when heâs not here. The way your skin hums when you think of him, the way your pulse skips in sync with his name. No one gets you like Rafe does. No one makes you feel like the world is spinning off its axis just by looking at you. Heâs chaos, destruction wrapped in a pretty face, and you... you crave it.
The roar of an engine breaks through the night. You donât turn, but a slow smile curls on your lips. You feel the heat of his presence before you even hear his footsteps.
âCouldnât stay away, could you?â Rafeâs voice is a low drawl, but thereâs something manic beneath it, something that sparks against the madness in you.
You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his eyes. Thereâs that look again. That wild, possessive look that sets your blood on fire. Heâs close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him, feel the tension in the air tighten like a noose around your neck.
âNeither could you,â you reply, your voice low, daring.
He grins, a sharp, dangerous thing. âYouâre right. I canât.â
His fingers brush your arm, just a ghost of a touch, but itâs enough to ignite something violent between you. Thisâthis is what you live for. The thrill. The madness. The way Rafe looks at you like youâre the only thing keeping him sane, and maybe thatâs what scares you the most.
Because youâre not sane.
Not anymore.
You canât even remember why you broke up with him a few months ago, but all you know is that it got overwhelming. There was something suffocating about itâabout him. The way he always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were thinking before you even said it. At first, it was intoxicating, the way he could read you like no one else ever could, like you were the only two people on earth and no one else mattered. But then⊠it was too much. His intensity felt like drowning in quicksand, slow but relentless. And for a moment, just a moment, you thought maybe you needed air.
But standing here now, with the salt stinging your nostrils and the wind howling like some kind of omen, you canât remember why you ever thought you could leave him.
Because there he isâRafe Cameron, walking toward you like the world is his and youâre his prize, eyes locked on you in a way that makes your chest tighten, your stomach coil in knots. Heâs dangerous in all the ways that matter. Not just because heâs reckless and violent (though God knows he is), but because of how he makes you feel. Alive, in a way that hurts. Like the rush you get standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing one wrong step and itâs all over, but you canât stop yourself from leaning forward, just to feel the thrill of almost falling.
He doesnât stop walking until heâs so close you can smell the gasoline and smoke on his clothes, the wild energy pouring off him in waves. He looks at you like youâre the only thing that matters, like youâre the oxygen heâs been deprived of for too long, and suddenly it all makes sense again. The madness. The break-up. The inevitable pull back to him.
âWhyâd you leave me?â His voice is low, rough like gravel. His eyes burn with something fierce, and you can feel it sinking into you, clawing its way under your skin. Heâs not asking because he doesnât know. Heâs asking because he wants to hear you say it.
You stare at him, heart pounding, pulse thrumming in your ears like a warning. But instead of stepping back, you step forward, closing the small gap between you two. Your breath mingles with his, the night air thick with unsaid things, and you feel like youâre standing on the edge of something irreversible. Like if you take one more step, thereâs no going back.
But isnât that what youâve always wanted? The danger. The thrill. The sick, twisted excitement of being so intertwined with him that you forget where he ends and you begin.
âI donât know,â you whisper, even though thatâs not the full truth. You do know. You left because you were scared. Scared of how much you wanted him, needed him, even when it hurt. Scared of the fact that the line between love and obsession blurred so fast with him that you couldnât tell the difference anymore.
His jaw tightens, and his hands, those rough, calloused hands that have touched you in ways no one else ever has, reach out. He grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and for a moment, you swear you can see the wild, unhinged thing lurking just behind his eyes. Itâs the same thing you see in yourself when you look in the mirror. The madness that ties you to him, binds you like a curse.
âYou do know,â he says, voice dark and demanding. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, slow, like heâs testing how far he can push you before you break. âYou just wonât say it.â
A shiver runs down your spine, but itâs not fear. Itâs something else, something deeper. Something that feels like surrender and power all at once. You lean into his touch, letting his hand curl around the side of your face, the heat of him soaking into your skin like a drug.
âI couldnât handle it,â you admit, the words thick and heavy in your throat. âYou. Us. It was too much.â
Rafeâs lips curl into a smirk, but itâs not a kind one. Itâs dark, possessive. âToo much? You know you liked it. You loved it.â His hand tightens slightly on your jaw, just enough for you to feel the edge of his control, like heâs reminding you who he is. What he is. âYou loved me because of how fucked up we are. Donât pretend otherwise.â
You swallow hard, heart thundering in your chest, because deep down, you know heâs right. Youâve never felt more alive than when you were with him, caught up in the madness of it all. The fights, the passion, the way you both pushed each other to the edge and then pulled each other back, only to do it all over again. It was twisted, dangerous, and wrong in every way, but thatâs what made it irresistible.
âI did,â you confess, and itâs like a weight lifts off your chest, even as you feel yourself falling back into him, back into the chaos. âI do.â
The smirk fades, replaced by something darker, hungrier. His eyes search yours, looking for any sign of hesitation, any crack in your resolve. But thereâs nothing. Youâre not the same person who left him. Maybe you never really left at all.
Rafeâs hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips hover just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. âThatâs what I thought,â he murmurs, and before you can respond, his mouth crashes into yours, hard and demanding.
Itâs not gentle. Itâs never been gentle with Rafe. His kiss is all teeth and tongue, like heâs trying to devour you, claim you all over again. And you let him, because deep down, you crave it just as much as he does. The fire, the chaos, the way he makes you feel like youâre spinning out of control but somehow exactly where youâre supposed to be.
When he pulls back, youâre both breathing hard, your lips swollen, your pulse racing like youâve just run a marathon. His hands grip your waist now, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the heat of his body searing into yours.
âTell me,â he says, voice low and dangerous, his eyes boring into yours. âTell me youâre mine.â
Your heart hammers in your chest, but you donât hesitate. âIâm yours.â And you are, completely, utterly, unashamedly his.
And just like that, youâre back where you started.
âââMONTHS LATER . . .
âGod fucking damn it, if you don't tell me right now, I'm gonna lose my shit!â Rafe shouts, his voice cracking like thunder in the small living room as he throws the beer bottle against the wall.
Glass shatters everywhere, scattering across the floor, but you donât even flinch. Youâve seen this before. Hell, youâve lived it. The rage, the temper, the chaosâit's like a script youâve both memorized by heart.
You lean back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching him like you would a caged animalâwild and unpredictable. Heâs pacing now, his movements sharp and erratic, the muscles in his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if they might snap. His eyes are wild, blue like ice but burning with something untamable, something dangerous. Heâs teetering on the edge, that fine line between fury and desperation, and you know it wonât take much to push him over.
But you donât care. Not right now.
âRafe, calm the fuck down,â you say, your voice steady, almost bored. You know thatâll get to him. It always does. Nothing makes him crazier than when you donât give him the reaction heâs fishing for.
His head snaps in your direction, eyes narrowing as he stalks toward you like a predator honing in on prey. He stops just inches away, towering over you, his chest heaving, breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. Heâs so close now that you can smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the heat radiating off his skin. But you donât move. You stand your ground, looking up at him with a calm that borders on defiance.
âDonât tell me to calm down!â he spits, voice laced with venom. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, knuckles white. âIâm sick of your bullshit! You think you can just stand there like youâre better than me, like youâre not a part of this, but guess what, baby? You are. You always have been.â
You tilt your head slightly, eyes narrowing as a slow smile creeps across your lips. âYouâre being dramatic, Rafe,â you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. âWhat, you gonna break something else? Or are you actually gonna say whatâs bothering you for once?â
That does it.
He slams his hands down on the counter behind you, trapping you between his arms, his face just inches from yours. His eyes blaze with fury, but beneath it, you see something elseâsomething raw, something that makes your stomach twist in knots.
âDonât play games with me,â he growls, his voice low and dangerous. âI know what youâre doing. You think you can just push me around, mess with my head, and Iâll keep coming back like a fucking dog, huh?â
You meet his gaze, unblinking, heart racing in your chest but refusing to show it. You can feel the tension crackling between you like electricity, the air thick with it, suffocating. This is what it always comes down to with Rafeâthis toxic push and pull, this need to break each other just to see whatâs left after the pieces fall apart.
âYou think Iâm the one messing with your head?â you say, your voice low, challenging. âMaybe you should take a look in the mirror, Rafe. Youâre not exactly innocent in this, are you?â
His jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think heâs going to explode. But instead, he just stares at you, eyes flickering with something dark, something primal. Then, slowly, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin.
âInnocent?â he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. âBaby, Iâve never claimed to be innocent. You knew exactly who I was when you got into this.â
You donât flinch. You donât pull back. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your lips grazing the corner of his jaw as you whisper back, âYeah, and thatâs why Iâm not scared of you.â
His breath hitches, just for a second, and you feel a surge of satisfaction. Youâve always known how to push his buttons, how to throw him off balance, even when heâs at his most dangerous. Itâs a game youâve played a thousand times before, and you both know how it endsâchaotic, messy, with both of you circling back to the same place.
But this time feels different.
Thereâs something darker in the way heâs looking at you, something that feels more like possession than anger. Like heâs not just mad because youâre fightingâheâs mad because he canât stand the thought of you slipping away. Because he knows, deep down, that no matter how hard you push him, heâll always want you. Need you.
âYou donât get to walk away from me,â Rafe says, his voice low, deadly. âNot this time.â
You feel his grip tighten on the counter behind you, his body pressing against yours as if heâs trying to fuse the two of you together, like if he holds on tight enough, you wonât be able to escape. But he doesnât know, doesnât understand that youâre already too far gone. That the very thing heâs holding on to is slipping through his fingers, and thereâs nothing either of you can do about it.
âThatâs where youâre wrong,â you say softly, a cold smile on your lips. âI can walk away whenever I want. I just choose not to.â
And with that, you duck under his arm, slipping out from between him and the counter. His eyes follow you, wide with disbelief, rage bubbling just beneath the surface. You know heâs about to lose it, to completely unravel. But you donât turn back. Not yet.
Because this time, you want him to come after you.
And he always does.
Rafeâs eyes darken as you slip past him, and for a moment, the room goes deadly silent. The tension is thick, heavy like a storm cloud waiting to burst. You know exactly whatâs coming, and it sends a thrill down your spine. You can almost feel itâthe moment he snaps, the second his control shatters. Itâs a twisted game, one youâve played too many times before, and every time, you push him a little harder, a little further, just to see how far heâll go for you.
You take slow, deliberate steps toward the door, your back turned to him, feeling the heat of his gaze sear into you. You donât need to look back to know heâs watching, every muscle in his body tensed like a predator stalking its prey. The air feels electric, charged with a violence thatâs always been just beneath the surface between you two.
âWhere the fuck do you think youâre going?â His voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp and biting. You stop, but you donât turn around. Not yet.
âDoes it matter?â you ask, voice calm, almost teasing. âI thought I could walk away whenever I wanted, remember?â
The silence that follows is deafening. You know youâve hit a nerve. He hates when you challenge him, hates when you act like you have the upper hand. But thatâs what makes it so addictiveâpushing him to his limit, watching him unravel in front of you, knowing that no matter how hard he fights it, heâll always come back to you.
Because he canât help it. Neither of you can.
Suddenly, you hear his footsteps behind you, fast and heavy, and before you can react, his hand grips your arm, yanking you back toward him with a force that nearly knocks the breath out of you. He spins you around, his face inches from yours, eyes blazing with fury.
âYouâre not fucking going anywhere,â he growls, his voice low and dangerous. His grip tightens on your arm, fingers digging into your skin, but the pain only makes your pulse quicken, your breath hitch in your throat. Thereâs something about the way he looks at youâlike heâs on the verge of losing control, like heâs barely holding himself togetherâthat sends a thrill through you.
âLet go of me, Rafe,â you say, your voice daring him, even though you know you donât really want him to.
He doesnât. Instead, he pulls you closer, his other hand gripping the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. His chest is heaving, his eyes wild, but thereâs something else there, tooâsomething desperate, like heâs terrified of losing you, like heâs clinging to you with everything he has left.
âYou think you can just walk away?â he snarls, his breath hot against your face. âAfter everything? After all the shit weâve been through? You really think Iâm just gonna let you go?â
You meet his gaze, unblinking, your heart racing, but thereâs no fear. Not with him. There never is. Instead, you feel the pull againâthe twisted, sick need to see how far you can push him, how deep his obsession goes.
âI think you donât have a choice,â you say, your voice steady, even though your pulse is hammering in your ears.
His grip tightens, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles twitching beneath his skin. For a second, you think heâs going to snapâreally snapâbut then, just as quickly, something shifts in his expression. The anger doesnât fade, but itâs joined by something darker, something raw and consuming.
âYouâre wrong,â he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with danger. âYou donât get to decide when this ends. I do.â
Before you can react, his lips crash against yours, rough and demanding, as if heâs trying to prove a point. Itâs not a kiss; itâs a claim, a reminder that you belong to him, whether you want to admit it or not. His hands tighten on you, pulling you impossibly closer, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely restrained violence simmering just beneath the surface.
But instead of pulling away, you kiss him back with just as much fire, matching his intensity. Itâs always been like this between you twoâthis chaotic, messy whirlwind of emotion that neither of you can control. You push, he pulls, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you find something that feels like love, even though you both know itâs something darker, something more dangerous.
When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, your lips swollen and bruised. His hand stays on the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way thatâs both possessive and tender, like heâs reminding himself that youâre still here, still his.
âYouâre mine,â he says, his voice rough, eyes blazing as he stares down at you. âYouâve always been mine.â
You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Thereâs a part of you that wants to fight it, to push him away and run as far as you can. But thereâs a bigger part of you, a darker part, that knows heâs right.
Youâre his. You always have been.
âYeah,â you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. âIâm yours.â
The words hang in the air between you, thick and heavy, and for a moment, everything else falls away. The anger, the tension, the broken glass on the floorâitâs all background noise now. All that matters is the two of you, standing here in this twisted, fucked-up mess of a relationship, knowing that no matter how many times you try to break free, youâll always end up right back here.
With him.
Rafeâs grip on you softens, just slightly, and for the first time in what feels like hours, the intensity in his eyes eases. But itâs still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the next time one of you decides to test the limits again. Because there will be a next time. There always is.
âYouâre not leaving me again,â he says, his voice softer now, but no less serious. âNot ever.â
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Because deep down, you know that no matter how much you might want to, no matter how many times you tell yourself you can walk away, you wonât.
You never could.
And Rafe knows it, too.
âââ
You donât usually cry. Not ever. Tears are something youâve learned to bury deep down, hidden under layers of indifference and biting sarcasm. But tonight, they come, hot and angry, streaming down your face as you sit curled up on the edge of the bed, hands trembling in your lap. The weight of the evening presses down on you, your mind reeling from everything that happened.
It wasnât supposed to be like this. Not tonight.
Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand, but you ignore it. You canât deal with it right now. You donât want to see the messages or hear the apologies. You donât want to relive what just went down.
You wipe at your face roughly, trying to pull yourself together, but itâs no use. The shaky breath you let out only betrays you further, and you feel the tears well up again. You bite your lip to keep from making a sound, not wanting him to hear you.
But, of course, Rafe hears everything.
The door swings open, and Rafe steps inside, his broad frame filling the doorway. He looks at you, really looks at you, and in an instant, his expression darkens. His blue eyes narrow as they sweep over you, taking in the tear-streaked face, the hunched shoulders, the way your body is wound tight like a coiled spring, ready to snap. His jaw tightens, and you can practically feel the shift in the air around him.
âWhat happened?â His voice is low, dangerous, barely restrained. Itâs not a questionâitâs a demand.
You shake your head, trying to brush it off. âItâs nothing, Rafe. Just forget it.â
But you know better than to think heâll let it go. The second you met him, you realized Rafe Cameron isnât the kind of guy who âforgetsâ anything.
He moves closer, the tension in his body palpable. Heâs not pacing like he usually does when heâs angry. This is different. Controlled. Focused. Like heâs honing in on the source of your pain, ready to eliminate it. He crouches down in front of you, one hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. His touch is firm, possessive, but not roughânot yet.
âTell me what happened,â he says again, his eyes boring into yours. âWho did this to you?â
You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up. You know how Rafe getsâhow he reacts when someone hurts you. And this time, it wasnât just anyone. It was someone close. Someone you thought was your friend.
âItâsââ You start, but your voice cracks, and you quickly bite down, trying to steady yourself. âIt wasâŠBecca.â
âBecca?â The name drops like a lead weight between you two, and you can see the recognition flare in his eyes. Becca, your friend for years, the one person outside of him youâve always trusted. The one person heâs always been wary of.
Rafeâs grip tightens slightly, his thumb brushing over your jaw in a way that makes your pulse race. His voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper. âWhat did she do?â
You hesitate, but the words spill out before you can stop them. âSheâshe said some things. At the party tonight. She called me out in front of everyone, said I was using you, that I only stuck around for the money, the attention. She tried to turn everyone against me, Rafe. She made me look⊠weak.â
His face hardens instantly, and for a split second, you see something flash in his eyesâsomething dark and lethal. The kind of rage that makes your breath catch in your throat, even though you know itâs not directed at you.
âShe said what?â His voice is so low now, itâs almost a growl.
You nod, swallowing hard, feeling the burn of humiliation all over again. âI donât know why she did it. I thought she was my friend.â
Rafe lets out a slow breath, and the air around him feels like itâs vibrating with the intensity of his anger. He stands up abruptly, pacing the room, running a hand through his hair as if trying to keep himself from completely losing it. But you know itâs too late for that.
âIâll fucking kill her,â he mutters under his breath, but you hear every word. âIâll ruin her life.â
âRafeââ You start to protest, but he cuts you off with a sharp look.
âNo. No one talks to you like that. Not her, not anyone.â His voice is clipped, sharp, like heâs barely holding back the full force of what heâs feeling. âYou donât deserve this shit. Not from her, not from anyone.â
His protectiveness borders on obsession, but you canât help but feel a strange comfort in it. Itâs twisted, but thereâs something about the way Rafe reacts to these thingsâlike the whole world can burn as long as youâre safeâthat makes you feel⊠seen. Important.
âIâm going to fix this,â he says, more to himself than to you, his hands curling into fists at his sides. âShe thinks she can talk shit about you? In front of everyone? Humiliate you? Nah. Sheâs going to regret it. Iâll make sure of that.â
âRafe,â you say softly, trying to reach for him, but heâs too far gone. You can see it in the way his eyes have glazed over, already plotting, already deciding exactly how heâs going to destroy Becca.
And part of you wants to stop him. Part of you knows that this isnât the answer, that maybe you should handle it differently, like a normal person would.
But youâre not normal. Not anymore.
âIâm serious,â he says, turning to face you again, his expression deadly serious. âNo one fucks with you. Ever.â
His intensity washes over you, and for a second, you feel like you canât breathe. But at the same time, it fills you with a sense of power, knowing that heâs willing to go to these lengths for you. That heâll protect you at all costs, no matter how destructive it gets.
You stand up slowly, crossing the room until youâre in front of him, your hand resting on his chest. âJust⊠donât do anything stupid, okay?â
Rafeâs eyes flicker down to you, and for a brief moment, you see a softness there, a flicker of the boy beneath all the rage and chaos. âI wonât. But Iâm not letting this go.â
You nod, knowing thereâs no point in arguing with him. This is who he isâwho you both are. Twisted, obsessive, reckless. But it works. Somehow, it works. And deep down, you donât really want him to let it go.
A few months later, and somehow everything goes to shit for Becca.
It starts smallâthings that could almost pass as bad luck. First, her new car gets keyed, deep scratches across the side that no amount of buffing can fix. Then her social media accounts get hacked, posts disappearing, weird comments being left on other peopleâs pages, like someone is deliberately screwing with her life piece by piece. She brushes it off at first, because Beccaâs tough. Sheâs the type of girl who bounces back quickly, who doesnât let things get under her skin.
But then things escalate. Quickly.
She gets benched during a big volleyball game when her coach suddenly pulls her aside and questions her attitude. The team captain claims Beccaâs been talking shit about the coach behind her back, stirring up drama with teammates. The problem is, Becca never said any of it. But now, sheâs got a reputation, and people are starting to look at her differently.
Still, she fights through it, determined not to let it get to her. Beccaâs always had her eye on the prize: her full ride to UC Berkeley, where sheâs set to play volleyball at the college level. Thatâs her future. Her escape. Nothing can touch that.
Until it does.
The call comes one morning, out of nowhere. Beccaâs shaking as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line, her heart plummeting as her coach tells her the news.
âWeâve received the results of your recent drug test, Becca,â the coach says, his voice stern but somehow apologetic. âIâm sorry, but youâve tested positive for a banned substance.â
Beccaâs head spins, her mouth going dry. âThatâs impossible,â she blurts out, panic rising in her chest. âI donât do drugs. I donâtââ
âI know this is hard to hear,â the coach cuts her off, his voice firm. âBut the results are what they are. This disqualifies you from the scholarship and the team. UC Berkeley has revoked your offer.â
The words hit her like a sledgehammer. She feels the ground tilt beneath her, everything sheâs worked for slipping through her fingers in an instant. She argues, pleads, tries to explain, but the decision is final. Thereâs nothing she can do.
And thatâs when she starts to see it, to feel the weight of something much bigger pressing down on her. This isnât just bad luck. Itâs not a coincidence that her life is unraveling at the seams. No, this feels orchestrated, like someoneâs been pulling the strings behind the scenes, watching her fall apart.
That someone is Rafe Cameron.
Rafe can be physicalâhe wouldnât hesitate to swing on anyone he deems a threat. But Rafe isnât a dumbass. He knows that not everything should be dealt with by violence. Some things are better handled with precision, with patience, with slow, deliberate destruction. He knew that punching Becca in the face wouldnât satisfy him, wouldnât give him the kind of control he wanted over the situation.
So instead, he used his connections, his money, his influence, all of the tools at his disposal to dismantle her life bit by bit. A hacked account here, a few whispers to the right people there. He didnât need to lay a finger on her to destroy her. He just needed to plant the seeds of doubt, to set off a chain reaction, and then watch it all come crumbling down.
The drug test? Easy. A little slip of something into her drink at a party when she wasnât paying attention, followed by a tip-off to the testing agency. The rumors about her trash-talking her coach? Carefully spread by a few well-placed texts to her teammates, pretending to be her. Her social media? That was just for fun, a way to throw her off balance and make her feel like her world was spiraling.
And it worked.
You know all of this, of course. Rafe never bothers to hide things from you. In fact, heâs proud of it, proud of the way heâs dismantled Beccaâs life without so much as breaking a sweat. He tells you about it one night while youâre lying together, his arm draped lazily over your waist as he whispers in your ear.
âShe thought she could fuck with you,â he murmurs, his voice dark, satisfied. âBut now she knows. No one touches whatâs mine.â
You should feel guilty. You should feel something for Becca, after all those years of friendship, of thinking she had your back. But all you can feel is a sick sense of satisfaction, like the universe has finally corrected itself. Becca messed with the wrong person, and now sheâs paying the price. And as twisted as it is, you canât help but feel a little thrill at how far Rafe was willing to go for you, how meticulously he destroyed her without you even asking him to.
âYou really did all that?â you ask, your voice low, a smirk tugging at your lips.
Rafe shifts beside you, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your neck. âI told you, baby. No one fucks with you and gets away with it.â
You turn your head to meet his gaze, and thereâs something dangerous in the way he looks at you, something possessive and wild. It should scare you, but it doesnât. Not anymore.
Because the truth is, you like it. You like how far heâs willing to go for you, how far heâs willing to take it. Thereâs something intoxicating about the way he loves youâtwisted, obsessive, and all-consuming. Itâs not healthy, not normal, but itâs yours. And thatâs enough.
You press your lips to his, kissing him fiercely, feeling the heat between you two ignite once again. Rafe kisses you back just as hard, his hands gripping you tightly, like heâs reminding you that youâre his and no one elseâs.
As you pull back, your breath ragged, you glance at him, your voice barely above a whisper.
âShe wonât come near me again.â
âNo,â Rafe says, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. âShe wonât.â
And in that moment, you both know itâs true. Beccaâs done.
âł make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
âł thank you for reading all the way through, as always âĄ
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#obx 4#outer banks 4
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đđźđđ€đČ đđĄđđ«đŠ
Pairing: frat!hockeyplayer!rafe x reader
(Also I have a lack of hockey knowledge, Iâd like to get into it but itâs not as popular from where I am so I donât rlly know much, so bare with me đ)
Warnings: SMUT (rough), p in v (protected), fighting, blood, cuts. (Ward is mentioned but only as coach. So nothing bad.)
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Today was the day, game day. The boys had been hyping this game up for the past two weeks. It was a big game. The finale⊠and itâs versus their rivals. So a very very big game. Especially to all the guys. Ward, being their coach had been training them hard. Making sure they secure the win.
You sat front row, next to the penalty box, with your friends. Wearing Rafeâs jersey. His number â13â on the back along with âCameronâ above the number. You felt proud, to be his, to watch him do what heâs passionate about. He did the same for you. Whatever you may do, heâs always there supporting you.
The lights in the arena go off. Then they start to flicker, music plays as smoke machines go off. The lights go back on as the rival team skates onto the ice first. They always did that when they played home. Always making the opposing team go first. Then everyone supporting the Outer Banks team started to chant. You included, you and your friends shouting at the top of your lungs as the team skates into the ice.
Cheering loudly knowing heâd already been looking for you in the crowd.
He sends a wink your way when he finally spotted you. He knew you were in a good spot for many reasons.
đđđ
As the game continued, Rafe and the â18â for the opposing team had been going back and forth. Throwing shoves left, right and centre. You could see the mean look in his eyes. He was looking for more than a shove. And the perfect excuse came over, as you all watch number 18 knock Topper off of his feet.
Rage speed skates over to the guy. In one motion his stick and gloves on the ice. Swinging straight at the guy. Both guys breaking out into a fight.
Yes, this made you worry. Your boyfriend fighting on the ice. It was worrying. But you knew he could hold his own. Also knowing heâs done this many time to know what heâs doing. You said âfuck itâ. You started cheering and shouting âgo baby! Fucking get him! Get âIm!! Thatâs it!â Your friends laughing at the fact you were cheering for him.
Thatâs when Sarah had the idea, she pulled out her phone and started to record you cheering. Also capturing the fight along with you cheering your boyfriend and her brother on.
Thatâs when the referee called it quits. Skating over and pulling apart the fight. The referee sent both guys the their penalty boxes. Rafe raised his fists in the air in pride. You were clapping. Rafe tilted to his side a little to break. Stepping into the penalty box, sitting down on the bench.
You started knocking on the plastic window. You shouted âRafe! Babe!â He looked over to you and smiled. âBaby! Did you see that?! He fucking had it cominâ!â You laughed and nodded âyeah, he did!â
Rafe stood up and rested his forehead against the window of the penalty box. Looking down at you and taking you in. Seeing you in HIS jersey, did things to him. Unspeakable thingsâŠ
He smirked âhey, when I get back on the ice! If I scored five points I want you to give me a big kiss on the lips as soon as I get out of the locker room. Yeah?!â You smiled and nodded âsure! Iâll hold ya to that!â He smirked and gave a nod.
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Soon enough the game was over. He did achieve his goal.
After waiting for what felt like forever. He appeared from the locker room. Some of the guys were coming out behind him.
He dropped his duffle bag as soon as he saw you approaching. He picked you up into his arms and kissed you as if he hasnât seen you in months. He done it. He and his team won the finale! Against their rivals! He had a total of two fights and won both! No shock there, but the low amount of fights made you more proud.
He pulled away ever so slightly, he mumbled against your lips.
âI wonât tonight, you know what that means⊠itâs gonna be harder than if we lost.â He grins and winks at you. Chewing his gum casually as if he didnât just imply he was gonna roughhouse you in bed tonight.
âWe got the frat all to ourselves, sweet girl. Gonna go back and celebrate like there no tomorrowâŠâ with wicked grin on his face said everything. You werenât getting up tomorrow. He was gonna treat you like a queen tomorrow. For what heâs gonna be doing to you tonight.
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Heâs already on top of you. Heâs in just his boxers as you lay in your bra. Kissing your lips as his hand moves down your body. His thumb moving to your bud, moving in slow light circles. Causing you to gasp softly. He smirked against your lips âfuck, baby, youâre so pretty like this, hm? Look soooo good fâme⊠all just fâme⊠hm? Gonna let me have ya all night, cause I won, yeah? Help me celebrate?â You nodded eagerly.
He replied âthatâs my girl..my lucky charmâ
As you both continued to make out, Rafe wanting to drag it out. He started to lazily grind his hips against yours. His big hardened length grazing against you. Causing you to moan softly into his lips. His kisses move across your jaw and down your neck as he continued to move his hips.
He started to pull down his black Calvin Kline boxers. Leaving his length spring free.
He reached into his nightstand, purposefully grazing his cock against your core. Just to add some spice. Making you moan softly. He always teases, always.
He ripped open the gold condom packet. Sliding it over his dick. He tossed the packet into the trash can.
He looked down at you. His hands running over you as you remove your bra. Knowing he would want that, but was too whipped to remember that he hadnât taken it off yet. Usual Rafe.
He groans âfuck, ma⊠youâre so pretty⊠gonna have you in every wayâŠâ you gasp as he starts to press up against you. He groans as he slides in with ease. You swallowed him up like it was nothing, that really got him going. Seeing you take all of him like it was nothing. But it always got to you, in a good way. Which made it even more of a turn on for him.
He moves his hands to support him into the mattress but also push your legs back. Keeping them up with his forearms. He started to slowly thrust into you. Trying his best to go slow, knowing you both had all night. But he was too excited, he always was. Seeing you like this, under him, god he wanted to crumble right there and then.
Hearing you moan his name and gasp as you take every inch of him. Made his mind go numb. He groans to your moans. Both of you having a vocal night. Rafe thanking his earlier self for âkicking outâ the other guys since heâs frat president.
Rafe groaned deeper at the feeling of the nails (which he paid for) dig into his back. He liked that stuff, he doesnât know why, but he does. Knowing those marks on his back were from you. It was like your version of hickies. Since he always gave them to you. But you preferred this way.
He lifted your right thigh, bringing it over his shoulder. He mumbled against your thigh âfuckinâ perfect, baby.. so perfect⊠taking me so wellâŠâ his praises making you tighten around his cock. He groans âlike that shit, huh?â He grins âknowing youâre my perfect girl, eh? That shit then you on, huh?â You moaned out âyea! FuuuckâŠâ
You could already feel the knot in your lower stomach. Already feeling the high approaching. Rafe smirked, he knew your body through and through.
He pulled out, you whined âwhat?â He smirked and patted your hip âflip over, baby, wanna see that perfect ass I loveâŠâ
You turn over, his hand connecting with your ass cheek. Causing a smack to echo through his room. He pressed back into you. Continuing what he was doing seconds ago. His one hand on your lower back as the other massaged your ass cheek. Every so often smacking it. Seeing his red hand print in your soft skin really got him going. Making him twitch inside you.
You gasped out âRafe!â He smirked âI know, baby, youâre close, I can feel it⊠do me a favour and let go fâme, yeah? Be a good girl and do that, yeah?â You could swear his voice always gets raspier towards your climax. Maybe he did it on purpose. Who knows.
As you came around him, he soon approached his first climax of the night.
He groaned âoh fuuuck! ShhhhittâŠ! Jesus, baby⊠squeezing me so fuckinâ tight, eh?⊠fuck⊠feels so goodâŠâ he slowed his pace. But didnât stop completely. He rubbed both ass cheeks as you started to catch your breath. He then started to rub you lower back. Soothing but a subtle intel that youâll definitely need that same massage when youâre done.
And letâs just say that wasnât your last either⊠he won the finale, you canât say no to him tonight⊠he never does for you.
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#hockey#hockey!rafe#hockey!au#frat!rafe reqs open#frat rafe#frat!rafe#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe#rafe cameron#rafe x you#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron obx#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe x fem!reader#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#outer banks#obx#obx x reader#outer banks x reader
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!scene!reader x gooner!rafe !
warnings: youâre called âweirdoâ a little bit, rafe has a boner and jerks off to you đ soâŠ
MDNI
when you first moved to the obx, he heard the whispers of a supposed âweirdoâ emo kid in figure eight. Turns out, youâre actually his neighbor. And of course, he was tasked with welcoming your family into the neighborhood, despite his many protests against it.
He bit back an annoyed groan when he knocked on the door, a box of freshly baked cookies in his hands.
When the door opened, he was met with the sight of you. The weird, strange, emo kid everyone was talking about. You peeked through the door.
âHello?â You spoke rather confused as you pulled it open further.
He was stunned for a moment, looking at you with a blank stare.
You were decked out in bright neon colors, a striped pink tanktop, two studded belts that hung over your back shorts, striped pink tights underneath your shorts. Bracelets adorned your arms. You had your hair straightened with a little swoop in your bangs at the front. Two little strands of your hair was dyed a bright blue.
âUhmâŠâ
âAre you okay?â You asked, rather concerned about him at this point.
âW- oh. Yeah. Sorry.â He cleared his throat, holding out the box for you to take. âIâm uh⊠rafe.. cameron. Iâm in the house next to yours. My dad wanted me to give these to you and uh⊠let you know that if you guys needed anything, weâre happy to help.â He spoke, you taking the box from his hands with a small smile on your face.
âThanks, RafeâŠim y/n.â You spoke, trying his name on your tongue. âIâll be sure these make it to my parents.â You told him, him giving you a small smile and nod.
âIt was.. uh⊠nice meeting youâŠâ He replied dumbly, unsure of what to say.
âYou too.â He nodded, you smiling before closing the door.
He stood there for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing and his lips pursing together, with a raging fucking boner in his pants.
âShit.â He murmured when he turned around, his hands going to cover it as secretly as possible.
âRafe, is that you?â He heard a squeaky, quiet old voice say.
âHey, Mrs. Hart!â he chuckled nervously, he moved his hands, simply crossing his leg over the other, wincing quietly.
âI was actually hoping to-â
âOh, Iâm so sorry, Mrs. Hart, but Iâm actually helping my dad with something, yeah- yeah Iâm coming dad!â He pretended, running into his house, slamming the door shut.
âHoly shit, holy shit, holy shit.â He whispered to himself, feeling like a pubescent 13 year old boy whoâs dick has never risen in his life as he ran to his bathroom, closing and locking the door as he pulled his pants down.
Out of everything he heard about you, no one told him that you were fucking hot. Or maybe heâs watched too much porn with emo girls in it. Either way, he found himself in this bathroom, jerking himself off while he bit his lip.
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