#sweet!rafe cameron

[totalswag]

Love your writing! So good!! Could you do one where the reader and Rafe have not been dating for long, only for about two weeks or so, and she is very insecure and doesn´t understand why he ever approached her to ask her out in the first place. She isn´t the most outgoing and thinks she is quite plain looking, comparing herself to all the much prettier girls (in her opinion) at parties that she evidently thinks he will leave her for and so she she starts to distance herself to make it hurt less

unworthy doubts — RAFE CAMERON

authors note first off, thank you so much. you don’t know how much that means to me. to all of you reading this right now; please know how important you're in this world. youre beautiful on the inside and outside in your own unique way 🤍.

summary questioning and comparing yourself to other girls while wondering why your boyfriend, rafe cameron, chose you.

warnings insecure, comparing, mentions of parties, crying, doubt.

Rafe Cameron and you started dating for almost a month; it’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a relationship. Although it’s in the early stages of your relationship, you haven’t felt this way.

However, your insecurities felt like they'd been with you forever.

Rafe's confidence and charisma seemed to effortlessly command whatever room he entered. You felt invisible; blending into the background. Comparing yourself to other girls at parties; pretty smile, makeup, etc.

What could rafe see in you?

The worries had recently gotten stronger, a constant voice in the back of your head. When you saw Rafe taking to someone or laughing too hard at someone’s joke, the voice whispers became louder.

You stood against the railing of Tannyhill watching at the sunset in your own thoughts. The breeze felt nice and it felt like good time to enjoy the moment.

"Hey," Rafe's voice interrupted your thoughts, making you jump slightly. He joined you at the railing with a troubled expression on his face. "You have been quiet recently. Is everything alright?

Rafe noticed your change in attitude in the previous three days. He had asked if everything was fine, but you refused to talk about it. Tonight, he wants answers. He's concerned about you.

You forced a smile, but it did not reach your eyes. "Yeah, I am fine." Just... exhausted, I suppose."

Rafe did not appear convinced. He stretched out and carefully tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You know you can speak with me, right? If something is bothering you, please let me know.”

Your heart sunk as you heard those words. Deep down, you want to open up to him and express your feelings. You don't want to come across as undesirable and make him think differently of you.

You felt words spilling out, but you remained silent.

"Y/N, I feel like you're pulling away from me." "Is it something I said or did?" He creaked "Please let me know, baby."

"It's not you, Rafe," you eventually confessed, the words rushing out before you could stop them. "It's me." I just don't understand why you chose me. I am not like the other gals. I'm not as attractive, outgoing, or—"

Rafe cut you off, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Is that what you think? That I don't realize how magnificent you are?"

Rafe's thoughts were all over the place. Seeing tears gather in the corner of your eyes caused him to cry.

You shrugged your shoulders, feeling tears form in your eyes, and down your cheeks. Not bothering drying them off.

"It's difficult for me to not to think about that when I'm constantly comparing myself to these girls" you ramble on when Rafe cuts you off.

Rafe approached, holding your face in his hands. "Look at me," he murmured quietly, waiting for you to meet his eyes. "I asked you out because I like who you are. You are nice and intelligent, and you make me laugh like no one else can. You are attractive to me both inside and out. And if you can't see it yet, I'll spend as much time as necessary to show you."

His words struck you like a tsunami, removing any doubts and anxieties that had been building up. You took a nervous breath as tears finally poured over.

You bury your face against his chest, letting out your sobs and putting your arms around his body; Rafe gently strokes your back, rocking you both side to side and whispers nice words into your ear to calm you down. 

"I can't afford to lose you," you whine against his chest.

"Baby, you will not lose me; I will be with you every step of the way," Rafe says before kissing the top of your head several times.

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[erwinsvow]

shy reader just like this 🥺 and kissing rafe’s forehead when she’s pounding tf out of her

omg stopp!!!

when rafe's in a mood like this—you don't say anything, you don't have to. you know your boyfriend well enough by now, letting him do what he needs to when he comes home with stress from one place or another.

you have been, since the day he met you, rafe's favorite form of stress relief.

it's not long before you're naked in his bed, your skirt pulled off and shirt in tatters, thrown onto the floor. rafe's still in his clothes—somehow he always is and you're always naked—but you can't bring yourself to mind right now, with the way your boyfriend is slamming into your sore pussy, battering in and out while you lay back and take it.

rafe's rough, some part of him always has been and always will be. considering how long it took you to convince him to even try to be rough with you, you should take this as an accomplishment.

you look down at where the two of you are joint—the way he slides in and out, your wetness shining on his dick and the obscene noise it creates each time he pushes back in. you're wetter than you'd even realized, so caught up in your head that you forgot your body has always reacted primally to rafe's without any action needed from you.

you look until you can't look anymore, looking up at rafe's face, blinking eyes focusing in on his face—eyebrows twisted in concentration, beads of sweat on his forehead. it's all hot, everything is tight and tense and wet, and you're sure to finish in moments, because it never takes rafe long to tip you over the edge.

but you try to hold off, shaky breaths and moans filling the space between you. rafe grunts, picking up the pace and slamming in and out, his hands tight on your hips. you're helpless but to watch, the noises leaving you in rhythm with his motions.

he's concentrated—always is when he's using your pussy like a toy. you'd be a filthy liar if you said you didn't like it.

"r-rafe," you get out, the word a moan and squeal combined.

"shh, s'okay, just take it, kid-"

that's all you need to hear, leaning in and pressing a fast, light kiss to his forehead. you don't know you do it—just that it feels right. if possible, rafe goes faster.

you fall apart first, rafe right after. when you lay back, whole body shivering at the feeling of his hot cum inside of you, rafe returns the kiss, pressing a longer, sweeter kiss to your forehead.

"what was that for, huh?" he asks you, and you seem to have lost all your words.

"i don't know," you mumble, staring up at your boyfriend from your position in his arms, sticky bodies pressed together. "just felt right. i love you."

just when you're about to fall asleep, spent and limbs exhausted, you hear it, the words from rafe preceded by a soft laugh that makes your head spin.

"i love you too, kid."

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … SHARPEST TOOL ♡

track five of the short n’sweet series. pairing: babydaddy!rafe x reader. based loosely on the song sharpest tool by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

it’s not like you expected a marriage proposal or anything.

rafe was going to be rafe, you knew that— 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 didn’t mean you didn’t see him inbetween.

“mmh, fuck— s’mine isn’t it? huh? c’mon—” rafe cups your chin, encouraging you to speak words that were incoherent whines as he drives his cock repeatedly through your gummy walls.

“yours, still yours rafey.”

god, you’d think the two of you were still together. it was sex talk, nothing more nothing less — 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 — due to your raging hormones post pregnancy recovery that were adjacent to a teenage boys. he was helping you out.

“this pussy is — goddamn, still as good as the first time i fucked it.” he groans into your neck because you know he’s close.

you roll your hips, forever trying to please him.

as aforementioned, it’s not like you expected him to suddenly come forward with a proposal after he’d 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 ‘paid service’. he rolled his eyes.

the problem didn’t 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 he’d behave upon seeing you in public. you’d 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, he’d turn his back, look away. like he’d forgotten everything.

at this point, you couldn’t tell if he was nonchalant or just plain stupid. you couldn’t keep chasing the feeling of the rare little nod of acknowledgement he’d send your way when you’d accidentally lock eyes. he wasn’t ashamed of the situation, no — you’d 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.

you’d decided enough was enough, coming to the conclusion you’d ignore him right back. it was approaching the weekend, and you knew you’d have to see him — 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.

“usual time tomorrow?” 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.

“yep.”

“alright…yeah, yeah…” he nods, itching his cheek, eyes glancing back over to you. “i assume you uh, you’re gonna want something to help get you right huh? nothing some dick can’t fix…” 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. “a’ight… fucks a’matter with you?”

“you clearly don’t care, you can skip the formalities.” you find yourself spitting out before you can help yourself. he stares for another moment before he scoffs.

“the fucks your problem, little miss attitude?” he drawls, blinking in irritation but your order comes and you take it and walk away. he doesn’t 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. “c’mon.” he croons quietly, nodding his head inside after you’d got the sleeping baby situated and you stand up straight, look him in the eye, and smile.

“so you can treat me like i’m not a person afterwards? i think i’ll pass.” you turn your daughter, blowing her a kiss. “bye baby, mommy will see you tomorrow.” 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 hadn’t realised he’d been acting all that much differently. you were co-parenting, not a couple — so he figured his time at the country club was his time and yours was yours. he didn’t 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 — and he’d be damned if he weren’t to look after the mother of his child properly. if that’s what you needed, he’d be happy to play ball.

the two of you don’t 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 — rafe cameron doesn’t 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 he’s about to give you an earful infront of your friends so you stop nervously, brow creasing. however, when he reaches you — he grips you and brings his lips to yours, cutting off any potential confused greeting on your tongue with a kiss.

“gonna stop pouting about this whole thing now? huh?” 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.

“why did you—”

“you think i don’t care about you, that’s it right? like — like i don’t 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 think—”

“wait, who do you threaten?”

“thats— ahh… thats not important, alright?” he scratches his temple, buzzcut bristling against his blunt fingernails as he quickly wets his lips with his tongue. “i didn’t know i was fucking up. okay?” his drags out his version of an apology and you feel the tiniest smile creeping up on you. it was pathetic, really.

“i just didn’t want you to be ashamed of me.” you sigh, looking down and he’s lightly gripping your chin immediately so you looked up at him when he spoke. old habits die hard.

“i’m not. you think i’d put a baby in someone i was ashamed of? that shits for the pogues.”

“rafe.”

“look,” 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. “i don’t know what more you want, okay i’m— i haven’t done this before. i don’t know if you’re aware but i haven’t had a kid before. this shit is my first fuckin’ rodeo too.” he turns to look down at you through the dark frames, a serious and promising look on his face. “but whatever i need to do… to keep that little attitude at bay, i’ll make shit happen. yeah? even if i gotta fuck you infront’a the whole club.”

he might not have been the sharpest tool, but he knew what you wanted to hear.

[rafey-baby]

hidden 2

cw: hostage/stockholm syndrome situation, outlaw!rafe getting injured and reluctantly letting pogue!reader clean him up, suggestive & him being sleazy

wc: 2k

hope u enjoy xx

part 1 & part 3 part 4 part 5

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It’s past midnight and Rafe is driving over the speed-limit. He had said something about handling business and then more or less shoving her into the passenger seat of his truck before she even had the chance to open her mouth in objection.  

The island sky is as dusky as the bottom of the ocean as he races through the soundless highway that reminds her of the yellow brick road; never-ending and with no certainty of what’s looming at the finish line. 

She sits silently on the passenger seat because even if she was curious as to where exactly they were headed to, she’s well aware that he wouldn’t tell her if she asked.    

Her heavy lids fall closed to the calming noise of the wind picking up outside the vehicle and she’s so exhausted she falls asleep within minutes. Therefore, she’s not sure how much time has passed before she’s jostled awake to him turning off the engine in an empty parking lot. 

“Don’t even think about opening the door, alright?” A heavy warning lingers in his tone as he’s tucking his gun in the waistband of his pants and grabbing a thick wad of cash from the glove compartment.  

She hums her acknowledgment and watches his actions; wandering eyes filled with questions. However, he merely offers her a brief glance and then he’s throwing open the door and disappearing into the eerily serene night; leaving her alone in the dimly lit space with her nervous inhales and exhales the only thing keeping her company.  

She tries to peer through the window, squinting in order to see where he’s run off to but the faint glow of the street lamps provides little to no help, making her impatiently tap her nails against the center console as she waits for him to return. She presses her ear to the window but unfortunately no sounds other than the rustling of the leaves in the trees surrounding the area reach her eardrums.  

She sighs.  

What if something happens? 

She knows that he doesn’t need for her to worry over him but she can’t help it. No matter how terrible of a person he is, she doesn’t wish for anything bad to happen to him. After all, she’s not a carefully programmed robot entirely void of human emotions, is she?

The mellow memory of him reluctantly trying to soothe her after her outburst the other day still lingers at the forefront of her mind and turns her initial thoughts regarding him into something softer. After all, she was certain he was going to kill her because she had threatened him with his gun. However, he merely seemed entertained by her stupid bravery, opting to mock her instead of showing a single ounce of actual fear.

And she doesn’t know why, but there’s this peculiar flutter in her tummy whenever her brain decides to mull over the moment of him wrapping his big arms around her shaky body in an almost gentle manner.  

She wants to forget about it, ignore it and simply despise him for forcing her to help him, but she can’t. Can’t help the fact that even if she’s utterly terrified of him, there’s also something about him that almost fascinates her; lures her in and makes her want to figure him out and she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to think of that.  

There’s something enticing about the way he’s such a polar opposite to her; not only is he a Kook but he’s also violent and hostile whereas she doesn’t even have the heart to kill a bug. His demeanor is aggressive and she thought that was all there was but then he goes on and practically hugs her when she’s a trembling mess with salty tears streaking her cheeks. 

All of it confuses her to no end; disarranging her cerebrum and making foreign emotions bubble in her chest like molten lava. Or maybe she’s just touch-deprived; starving for whatever attention Rafe is suddenly offering her so generously.  

She doesn’t necessarily want to think about any of it right now though; opting to stare out into the gloom of the night and forcing her mind somewhere else entirely when all at once, the driver’s side door slams open and her head snaps towards it; eyes startled and heart jumping in her chest at the instantaneous intrusion.  

“Calm down, ‘s just me,” Rafe mutters, sounding out of breath; exhales harsh and chest rising and falling like a madman as he slumps down on the leather seat, eyes flitting over her tense form.

“You seriously didn’t move?” He huffs out. “Such a good little puppy, huh?”   

At that, she comes to the conclusion that she’s definitely craving a very specific type of attention when her thighs involuntarily press together at his twisted notion of praise.   

“You— uh…you okay?” She cautiously asks, ignoring the warmth scattering along the apples of her cheeks.   

“I’m fine,” he mumbles before starting the engine and speeding back out onto the road that’s still sound asleep; the pitch-black sky beginning to fade into a darkened navy blue with the dim glimmer of the street lamps illuminating their journey.   

She then gets a better look at him and notices a few cuts and bruises adorning his tired face. There’s a particularly deep scrape on his cheekbone; crimson transferring to the back of his hand when he mindlessly swipes over it.   

“Rafe…you’re bleeding. What happened?” She exclaims, uneasiness coating her tone.

“Don’t worry, okay? Just had some, uh…disagreements. Should honestly see the other guy,” a lazy smirk paints over his face as he lets out a dry chuckle.  

“Rafe, those could get infected or something. Do you want me to clean them up for you?”  

“It’s just a few scratches, you’re acting as if I’m bleeding out,” he rolls his eyes, turning exasperated.  

“I’m being serious, you can’t exactly go to the doctor if those actually end up getting infected, can you?” She argues with a pout.    

”Shit, are all Pogues this fucking stubborn or just you? Told you, it’s fine,” he snaps in disdain, knuckles turning white from their grip on the steering wheel.  

“It’s not fine, though. Can you just…can you just let me help you? It’ll take like ten minutes and then you don’t have to worry about it anymore,” she rakes a hand through her hair in frustration because in her opinion Rafe is the one being stubborn right now.   

“I’m not worrying about it!” His gravelly voice thunders from his chest, making her flinch.  

“Well, I am,” her tone is quiet now; slightly regretting bringing the topic up in the first place.    

At that, he lets out an irritated sigh and then he’s abruptly pulling over to a parking lot next to some gas station.  

She turns to look at him with a surprised expression.   

“Don’t have all day. Get the fucking first aid kit from the glove box,” he grumbles out a harsh demand.   

“O— okay,” her face begins to light up in victory as she scurries to open the compartment in front of her, rummaging through it and trying to not pay attention to the plastic baggies filled with white powder or the wads of cash her hand comes in contact with.   

At last, her tentative fingertips find the small red bag she was looking for. However, when she turns to face him again, he’s not initiating any sort of movement, simply spreading his legs out in front of him in his slouched position and peering down at her expectantly.  

She hesitates.   

“You’re not gonna…move?”  

“If you wanna play nurse so fucking bad then you have no problem sitting on my lap, right? Not gonna reach all the way from there, are ya?” His tone is mocking and she can practically feel the cherry blush crawling up her face.  

“Oh, right. Um— yeah. I’ll just…” She blinks and then she’s clumsily climbing over the console and awkwardly lowering down to stumble into his lap. He merely looks at her with a bored expression; annoyance swimming in the lagoons of his eyes as he glares at her, clearly bothered by the fact that he has to waste his precious time on something as trivial as this.   

She huffs before timidly opening the first aid kit and trying to settle down on his lap. However, with his long legs sprawled out in the legroom he’s not exactly making it easy for her; being petty and difficult on purpose as she takes out a clean cotton pad and dampens it with some antiseptic spray.   

“Can you just…” she trails off before gingerly taking ahold of his jaw and lifting his face in order to examine the injuries better.  

He lets her freely maneuver his head as she pleases and despite the sting, not even flinching when she gently dabs over a smaller cut on his jaw. Merely letting his gaze flicker over her features; making her grow nervous under his curious eyes as she tries to concentrate on the vermilion spots on his face and not the way he’s soundlessly observing her.  

Or the fact that she’s currently closer to him than she’s ever been before. Can feel the even breaths from his nose tickling the skin of her lower face when she leans down to get a better angle.  

“So…you’re a drug dealer or?” She decides to try her luck, not being able to sweep the cocaine in the glove compartment under the rug so carelessly.   

“What did I say about questions, Puppy?” He scolds her instead of answering.   

“Right, sorry,” her eyes drop down. At least she tried.  

She doesn’t say anything more, instead focuses all her attention on cleansing the scrapes and tries not to pay any mind to the fact that as an afterthought, this position is incredibly improper and she’s not entirely sure why she agreed to it so easily.  

Upon careful consideration, she thinks she’s entirely too aware of his sturdy muscles underneath her and it’s turning her respiration more labored by each wipe over his face.  

“Thinkin’ about going to Guadeloupe next week,” he utters out after several minutes of silence.  

“You are?”   

“Mhm. My family owns a house there,” his low-pitched tone is calm; almost relaxed.  

“But, how are you—” her brows crease in a question.   

“I have a private jet,” he states as if it should be obvious; he is a proud Kook, after all.   

“Right. Of course you do,” she shakes her head when the corners of his mouth tug up.   

“How long are you gonna stay there?” She asks as she lifts her hand to swipe the saturated cotton over the deeper wound on his cheekbone.   

“Don’t know, ’til I figure something else out,” he shrugs.   

She hums and then shuffles around in his lap some more, trying to wriggle upwards in order to not fall off. However, as she’s shifting into a more comfortable position, he suddenly lets out a low grunt from the back of his throat.  

“Shit, Puppy. You really gotta move around so much?” He murmurs, promptly resting warm palms on her hips, halting her movements altogether.   

“S— sorry,” her eyes round out when she can suddenly feel a slight bulge in his pants. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re tryna get me hard on purpose, hm?” A breathy chuckle escapes his lips along with amusement glittering in blue gemstones as he inspects her flushed face with intrigue.   

“Oh, no— I’m not…was just— trying not to fall,” her words are rushed; thoroughly embarrassed as she blinks repeatedly.  

“Just, uh…stay still, yeah? Need me to steady you?” He rasps before strong arms are holding her upright by a firm grip on her waist.   

“Thanks,” her voice is a muted whisper and she tries not to seem so affected as she gets a new cotton pad and begins to scrub off some of the dried scarlet from under his bottom lip; not daring to shift an inch after that.  

[itneverendshere]

maybe wheezie or even sarah needing rafe to pick them up from school or attend a back to school night. like the school calls rafe to pick up sarah after getting in a fight. or the teacher calls him in to discuss that wheezie struggling in math

thank you for the request!!! 🫶🏻🫂 i think rafe's always had a soft spot for wheezie so i did this one for her cause i personally can see their dynamic being really cute.

 we're both older now - r.c

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

Sitting in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. His hands were on the wheel, jaw clenched just enough for you to notice, but not enough to freak out.

It’s been months since rehab, and you swear, you’ve never seen him like this before—so focused, so... responsible. It’s kinda hot.

But that’s not what you’re here for. Not right now.

You’re headed to Wheezie’s school because, apparently, she’s been struggling with math. She didn’t want to tell Rafe because Ward’s rarely at home these days and she didn’t want to bother him. When you found out, you could’ve smacked her. You get it—Rafe’s been under a lot of pressure lately—but you don’t think she realizes how much he cares about her. That’s why you two are heading to a parent-teacher meeting like it’s the most normal thing in the world. It’s not. 

“I should’ve known something was off,” Rafe mutters, breaking the silence.

You look over at him. “You couldn’t have. Wheezie’s good at keeping stuff to herself.”

He shakes his head, his grip tightening on the wheel just a little. “I’m her brother. I should’ve noticed.”

You reach over, resting your hand on his arm. “You’re doing your best, baby. That matters.”

He lets out a breath, his tension easing under your touch. God, sometimes it’s hard to believe he’s the same guy who used to pick fights at every chance he got just a few years ago. It’s been almost a year since his last relapse, but every day you see him fighting to be better—for himself, for you, for his sisters. And honestly? It does something to you, seeing him like this. 

You pull into the school parking lot, and he parks the truck, turning off the engine. For a second, he just sits there, staring straight ahead. You know what he’s thinking. He’s wondering if he’s good enough to handle this, to handle all of it.

“You got this,” You say softly.

Together, you walk into the school, and after a quick conversation with the receptionist, you’re led to Wheezie’s teacher’s classroom. The room smells like dry-erase markers and stress, the kind you remember from my own high school days.

Except, this is a private school, completely different from what you were used to, and back then, you loved school. You were good at it too—really good, actually. Straight A’s, honors, full ride to a decent college…but life had other plans.

You look at Rafe as you wait for the teacher to start the meeting. He’s sitting up straight, listening intently, and your chest tightens a little.

The same guy who used to blow off any responsibility now sitting here, laser-focused, ready to step up for his little sister. The teacher starts talking about Wheezie’s grades, how she’s been falling behind in math, and you can see the guilt in his face. You squeeze his knee under the table, trying to ground him, but honestly? This was hitting a little too close to home for you, too.

“I can help her,” You hear yourself say before you’ve even really thought about it. Rafe turns to look at you, surprised, and you shrug like it’s no big deal.

The teacher blinks, probably not expecting the girlfriend to jump in with a solution. “What did you score on your final exams?”

You move in your seat, not expecting the question but not exactly shy about your answer either. "I got a 1600 on my SATs," You said, trying to sound casual about it, even though you could see Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up next to you. 

The teacher’s eyes widen slightly. "That’s impressive," she says, "You must’ve had a lot of options for college."

You shrug again feeling that familiar feeling of bittersweet regret. "Yeah, I had a full ride to a few places.”

“And you didn’t go?”

The way she says says it—like she can’t imagine why you wouldn’t go—hurts a little. 

"Yeah, well... life happened." You try to brush it off like it doesn’t bother you.

Rafe’s hand slides over to yours under the table, interlocking your fingers and giving you a gentle squeeze. It’s subtle, but it’s enough for you. To remind you that you made the right choices, even if they weren’t easy ones.

The meeting wraps up pretty quickly after that.

The teacher gives Rafe some advice on how to help Wheezie stay on track, and you both thank her before heading out of the classroom. As you walk down the hallway, he stays quiet for a bit, and you can’t really read what’s going through his head.

By the time you get back to the truck, he turns to you, his brow furrowed slightly, like he’s still processing everything. "You got a perfect score on your SATs?"

Three years into the relationship and he’s still learning things about you every day.

You let out a small laugh, brushing some hair behind your ear. "Yeah. It’s not a big deal."

"That’s kinda insane," he says, looking at you like he’s seeing a whole new side of you. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

You shrug for the millionth time today, suddenly feeling a little shy. “I don’t know. It just never came up. It’s not like it matters now, anyway.”

"It does matter." His voice is firm, and when you glance over, you can see how serious he looks. "You gave up a lot to help your sister. That’s not nothing."

Your throat tightens, and you have to swallow down the emotion rising inside you. The way Rafe says it, like he actually gets it, means more than he probably knows. "I just did what I had to do."

He nods slowly, like he understands that feeling all too well. "You didn’t have to offer to help Wheezie today. But you did.”

You don’t want to make a big deal out of it. "I want to help her. She deserves it."

Rafe doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with this soft, almost disbelieving expression. Like he can’t wrap his head around the fact that you’re still here, beside him, helping his family without a second thought.

"You’re amzing, y’know that?" he murmurs, his voice low and warm in that way that makes your stomach flip.

You feel your cheeks heat up, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Stop."

"I mean it." He reaches over, cupping your face gently with his hand, thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. His eyes soften as they meet yours, filled with so much adoration it makes you want to hide. "I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m really fucking grateful."

You bite your lip, glancing down at his other hand on your knee before looking back up at him.

"You’ve been working hard. For yourself, for us. I see that."

His jaw tightens just slightly, and he looks down, almost like he’s not sure how to take the compliment. But when his eyes meet yours again,

"I’m trying," he says quietly. "I’m trying to be better."

"And you are," you whisper. "Every day."

The months of hard work, the late nights when you’ve held him through his doubts, the mornings when he’s shown up for his family even when it was hard. It’s all there, between you, unspoken but understood.

Rafe leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Thank you," he whispers. "For everything."

You close your eyes, letting the moment settle around you. "I’ll always be here," you whisper back. "We’ve got this."

“I don’t think I would’ve made it this far without you.”

You swallow hard, trying not to let it hit you too deep. But it does. Because for all the mess you’ve been through—his ups and downs, his relapse, his constant fight to be better—it always comes back to you. To this.

“I’ll always have your back,” You remind him quietly. “You know that, right?”

He nods, like there’s absolutely no doubt in his mind. “I know. You’re really good with her," he says after a beat. "With Wheezie. And with Milo."

You smile, leaning back in your seat. "Yeah, well, someone’s gotta look after the kids, right? Might as well be me."

Rafe’s lips twitch into another smile as he leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, "Thank you, baby.”

“For what?”

“For sticking around,” he says, pulling back slightly to look at you. “Even when I didn’t make it easy.”

 “You make it worth it, Rafe. You always have.”

Because seeing him like this—happy, strong, responsible, and healthy—it’s more than just him trying. It’s him becoming the person you always believed he could be, from day one on that stupid country club. And that? That’s something you’d stick around for any day.

When you and Rafe pull up to Tannyhill, the sun’s already setting. You grab your bag from the backseat, and he takes a deep breath, his hand hovering near yours like he needs to hold onto you just for a second longer. When you step into the house, you’re greeted by the usual stillness that fills the place. It’s huge, but it always feels too quiet.

Wheezie’s sitting at the kitchen island, hunched over her phone, clearly trying to distract herself. Her leg’s bouncing nervously under the stool, and you don’t even have to say anything to know that she’s been dreading this moment.

As soon as she sees the two of you, she freezes, eyes wide, "Hey," she greets, her voice shaky.

Rafe glances at you, and you give him a small nod. You know he’s trying to figure out how to handle this—he’s never really had to play the role of ‘responsible older brother’ before. But he’s doing it. He’s trying. And that’s what matters.

"Wheeze," Rafe starts, as he walks over to her, and you can see the panic rising in her eyes as she sits up straighter like she’s preparing for the worst. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

She bites her lip, glancing between the two of you. "I-I didn’t want to bother you," she mumbles, her voice small. "You’ve been dealing with a lot, and I thought— I don’t know. I thought I could handle it on my own."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s quiet for a second, and you can feel Wheezie’s anxiety practically buzzing out of her. She’s probably expecting him to yell, to go off on her, but instead, he takes a step forward and pulls her into a hug.

"You ever keep something like that from me again," he mutters into her hair, his tone firm but warm, "and you’re grounded."

Wheezie’s eyes go wide in shock, like she wasn’t expecting that at all. Her arms wrap around him a little awkwardly, but you can tell she’s relieved. She pulls back after a second, staring up at him with those big brown eyes of hers. "You’re not mad?"

Rafe shakes his head, but his expression is serious. "I’m not mad. I’m worried, Wheeze. I’m here, okay? I got you."

"I’m sorry," she whispers.

He sighs again, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at her. "Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again."

She nods quickly, and you step closer, offering her a small smile. "You’re not in trouble, Wheezie. I’m gonna help you with the math stuff, okay? I promise."

Wheezie looks over at you, clearly surprised, and then back at Rafe. "You’re… really not mad?"

Rafe rolls his eyes but in that big-brother way that’s full of affection.

"No, Wheeze, I’m not mad. But next time you’re struggling with something, tell me. That’s what I’m here for."

She nods, relief washing over her features. "Okay. I will."

Rafe reaches out and ruffles her hair, something so casual and brotherly it makes your heart swell.

"Good. Now go do whatever you do, and remember—grounded if you pull that shit again."

You slap his arm, “Will stop cursing in front of her?”

He shoots you a half-smirk, looking completely unbothered. "Please baby, she’s sixteen. You think she doesn’t curse?"

Wheezie lets out a small laugh, covering her mouth as if she’s trying to keep it together, but you can tell she’s relieved. 

"Yeah, but maybe not in front of her big brother," you tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

Rafe shrugs, looking like he couldn’t care less. "If she’s smart enough to hide it from me, more power to her."

Wheezie giggles again, and you can’t help but smile. "Yeah, yeah," you sigh, rolling your eyes at him playfully. "You’re a great role model, Rafe Cameron."

He groans, “Please don’t use the full name.” The corners of his mouth tug up in a grin that makes your heart skip. “Alright, no more big brother lectures tonight. We’re good, yeah, Wheeze?”

Wheezie nods, still smiling. “Yeah, we’re good.”

[rubiehart]

jj thinking you look the prettiest when your stomach’s all big and swollen with his baby, laying out on the bow of the boat on a towel he’d lay down for you, sunglasses perched on your nose and bikini hugging your body perfectly, specifically showcasing your tits that seemed to be getting bigger every month into your pregnancy, which jj wasn’t complaining about.

he’s at your side whenever you call his name, “everythin’ okay mama?” ,giving you sips of lemonade or water whenever you ask, comin’ over every half an hour or so to make sure you’re all lathered up in sunscreen “gotta make sure my babies aren’t cookin’.” indicating to you and the child you were growing making you giggle and throw an arm over your eyes as he rubs the sunscreen into your plush thighs and up all over your stomach, just bein’ all gentle with you.

big smile on his face cuz he knows he’s gonna love this baby more than he’s loved anyone or anything before (not including you of course!!)

[et6rnalsun]

gif credits

(sweet! pogue! reader) ⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ rafe realizing he likes the way you look a little too much. he stares for so long without even realizing it, he just gets lost in your features so often. your sweet, doe eyes that occasionally meet his while he is in his usual trance moment. your plump, slightly chapped lips that are perpetually stuck in a pout that's too cute for your, and his, good. you just have a perfect lil face and ruining it is one of his fantasies that he ends up jerking off to. it's completely fucked up, especially knowing that he shouldn’t think of you like that. the imagine of you being innocent, practically 24/7, doesn’t exist anymore in his mind.

[sturnskiss]

taste ! ᥫ᭡

pairing: collegefootballplayer!rafe x cheerleader!reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: rafe’s ex girlfriend and him seem to be back together when you spot them making out before a football game. but you know it won’t be long before he’s yours again. based on the song ‘taste’ by sabrina carpenter

warnings: use of y/n, cursing, implied cheating, mentions of reader being short (5 feet to be exact), no smut

author’s note: second story based off of short n’ sweet tracks! if you want to be added to my rafe fic taglist reply to this post :)

you read somewhere that your dna stays in the other persons system after a kiss for 6 months. if that’s the case, the blonde girl kissing rafe three feet in front of you is basically kissing you, too.

as a cheerleader for the university of north carolina, you have to remain smiling at all times when in uniform. however, it’s hard to maintain a smile when your ex boyfriend is kissing your predecessor, his ex, before the game starts.

you watch as the pair stand outside the doors to the locker room. rafe has his helmet in his hand and the other is tucked on the girl’s lower back as he lowers his head ever so slightly to kiss her. she’s running her fingers through his hair, both feet on the ground. something you never had to do because you were five feet tall to be exact, always standing on your tippy toes to kiss rafe.

you roll your eyes as you speed walk past them, the rest of the cheer team is already on the sidelines. you went to the girls locker room because you forgot to put on the red lipstick everyone else had on. you didn’t expect to see rafe with his ex girlfriend outside the doors to the boys locker room.

you remember rafe telling you about his ex. olivia was her name. you had never seen her in person, but judging by how comfortable she is right now and her insanely long blonde hair, you know her to be his ex girlfriend.

but the fun fact you learned from a tiktok video, which may or may not be true, is lingering in your mind as you look back to find them still making out. you finally leave this section of the stadium and see the light of the football field through a corridor.

you make your way to the sidelines where the rest of the cheer team is and find your place.

it’s now the second quarter and the tar heels, are down by 6 points to duke university.

“saw rafe and olivia kissing before he came on the field. guess they’re back together,” you whispered to the cheerleader standing in front of you, chloe.

since you aren’t allowed to publically talk during a game, you didn’t look at her and just said it loud enough she’d hear.

chloe widened her eyes and looked at you, “what?!”

you nodded, still watching the football game. “yup. it’s only been—“

you’re cut off by the announcer, “and number 2, rafe cameron, secures the ball and is making his way to the endzone!”

and for a split second you forget how rafe is no longer your boyfriend because the first thing that comes out of your mouth is, “let’s go rafe!”

“touchdown chapel hill!”

the cheerleaders rally, doing high kicks and shaking their poms and you watch as two boys run to rafe and hit his helmet, a sign of appreciation. you assume those boys to be topper and kelce, rafe’s closest friends.

“that’s right baby! go rafey!” you hear a girl yell from the seats. you whip your head around and see olivia smiling and jumping, rafe’s number painted on her cheek.

you laugh dryly, “see.”

chloe rolls her eyes, “you guys’ll get back together. poor girls gonna get her heart broken again.”

she isn’t wrong. if olivia wants forever, and you bet she does, rafe isn’t the guy for her. everyone knows you and rafe are meant to be, and olivia must be oblivious to think rafe will really stay with her this time. he left her once and got with you and you’re just waiting for a drunken text from him late one night asking for you to come over to his dorm. you’ll always be a lingering thought in his head, and a taste in his mouth.

so you aren’t phased by rafe getting back together with his ex, because you are confident that he’ll come back to you. give it a few weeks, and you’ll be the one making out with him before a game and the one going home with him. you know that everything they do together is simply reused and everytime they kiss or breathe each others air; you were already there.

it’s now the fourth quarter and carolina is down by 2 points, there’s only 30 seconds left of the game.

you watch as rafe successfully intercepts the ball and runs it to the end zone, gathering cheers of anticipation from the crowd.

“number 2, rafe cameron, with an interception!”

you mumble words of encouragement under your breath, the rest of the cheerleaders jumping up and down.

rafe slides into the endzone just as the clock hits 0.

“and unc tar heels win the game 34-28!” cheers erupt from the crowd, very spirited fans screaming their heads off.

the cheerleaders run onto the field as the whole team crowds rafe, who pulls his helmet off and basks in the attention.

“fuck yeah!” rafe yells as the football players hit their chest and shove him around— football boy language.

“alright rafe!” you say as you and the rest of the cheerleaders run up to him.

rafe immediately recognizes your voice and looks at you.

you feel guilt for the butterflies in your stomach when he looks at you, out of breath and messy, sweaty hair. you feel bad for olivia, but at the same time, she should know shes just a rebound.

“good game, rafey!” you mock olivia and wave your poms in his face before skipping off the field and back to the sidelines where your stuff was.

you put your poms in your bag and immediately take your hair out of its high ponytail. you run your fingers through your hair and flip it once for good measure.

“heard you cheering me on,” you hear an all too familiar voice say from behind you. you turn around, a smirk on your face. sure enough, it’s rafe— helmet in hand with smeared eye black on his cheeks.

“did you hear olivia cheering you on too?” you teased. he stared into your eyes, looking down at you like he just knew you were trouble.

he shook his head, not once breaking eye contact. “nah. heard your pretty voice on the 40 yard line though.”

your stomach did flips as you rolled your eyes, his easy smile making you forget how you are technically no longer his.

“a’ight, i gotta go. y’need a ride home?” he asked as he slowly started walking backwards down the field.

“maybe. you taking the blonde home too or what?” you said loudly as he backed away.

rafe shook his head, “just you. you look good in that skirt, y/n!” he said before officially turning away and running off the field and inside the corridor.

little baby very tiny tag list for rafe (reply to be added): @maybankslover @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[angelicblondie]

popstar!reader x bodyguard!rafe have really good bed chem.ೀ⋆⑅

the two of you oddly, make sense. you come from completely different backgrounds, have completely different vibes and auras, even completely different lifestyles, despite how close in quarters you two were - but maybe thats why you worked - opposites attracted and all of that.

he could be so rough with you - pushing you around, grabbing your hair, picking you up with ease to toss you down - but he would do it with the sweetest words of praise, telling you how good of a girl you are, and how pretty you looked like that.

it sounds odd, but you had imagined having sex with rafe for a long time before the two of you started hooking up - wondering if he was a big as you hoped, if he was into the shit you were, if he was even better than you dreamed - in short, the answer is yes. yes to all of it.

sometimes, the guys you hooked up with were hot, and they did...you know, good stuff under the sheets, but the two of you weren't compatible. sometimes, you just didn't have that chemistry with a guy, and the two of you just didn't hit it off in the sack.

but rafe? you two had the best bed chem.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

my angel

part 2 to angel

words: 3.6k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, protected sex, p in v sex, reader is a stripper, reader also gets called a bitch and assaulted but its not very graphic or "bad", f receiving oral

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @spear-bearing-bi-witch @ghostlycrystobalove

“there’s my favorite regular.” you smile, plopping down on rafes lap before he even pays. you know that he’s good for it.

“angel.” rafes hands land on your hips, rubbing his thumbs over the bare skin there. security already knows that you consent to his touches.

as promised, rafe has become a regular at your strip club. some days he comes with his friends, who you have learned are named topper and kelce, but it’s usually just him, alone in his regular seat, eyes not drifting from you, ignoring all the other strippers who try to get his attention, especially after seeing how much he tips.

you sometimes take him in back, depending on the day and how long it’s been since he’s last been in. he’s always more needy, willing to pay for more when he’s away for a couple nights, but you stick to your original rule of mouth only.

“lap dance?” you ask, watching rafe pull a bill out of his shirt pocket.

“how about i pay you for a lap dance and you sit here and talk to me instead? just for five minutes, i want to get to know you better.” rafe has been trying to get closer to you every week, and as he spends more time there, you start to let him, but still say no politely every time he asks you out.

“mmm, fine.” you hum, letting yourself relax on his lap, feeling your core press against his thigh. “stick it here.” you pull on the cup of your bra, allowing rafe to slot the folded up bill against your breast. he lets his fingers skim down the soft white fabric, teasing over your nipple briefly before dropping back down to hold onto your hips.

“where are you from?” rafe asks, and you respond with your hometown, about an hour further inland.

he continues to ask you basic questions, like your favorite color, food, and so on. you feel so natural talking back and forth that you forget that you’re even at work, until the stripper right before your set comes on stage, and you know you have to go in back to get ready.

“well, thanks for that chat, rafe.” you stand up, his hands hesitating to leave your body. “i’ll be watching you while i’m on stage.” you give him a wink and walk away, making sure to sway your ass, knowing he’s watching.

you don’t perform solo every night, so it’s a real treat for rafe when you do. you prepare backstage, putting on a few more layers and your favorite accessory, a small white befeathered pair of angel wings, to go along with your stripper name.

when your music starts, you head out onto the stage, dancing slowly to the music, keeping the act up by pretending to be shy and demure as you slowly strip off the layers of clothing that you just put on until you’re in a simple pair of white lingerie.

you twirl around the pole, every time turning to keep your eyes on rafe in the crowd, although you do try to glance at the other men, you just can’t help but be drawn to your most loyal regular.

the song changes to the last one of your set, the one where you will strip off that final layer of clothes. you’ve danced topless, but tonight is your first night going fully nude, and you feel some excitement rise over the nerves at getting to do this for rafe specifically.

you shed your top, covering your nipples with your fingertips while the crowd cheers. you finally raise your hands up, hips still moving to the beat of the song, dollars being thrown onto the stage.

you turn your back to the audience, finally ready to reveal the final part of yourself. you pull your underwear down your legs, keeping your movements as innocent as you can while dancing fully naked.

you meet rafes eyes, a look of lust in them that you hadn’t seen before. you smile, just for him, as you finish your dance before moving off the stage. 

you take a deep breath, pulling on your second look of the night, only having to perform one more time in a group later on, but you were just in the back for that. you take a minute to eat some food before heading out onto the floor for lap dances.

you head straight towards rafe, wanting to get his reaction to your final dance, when your wrist is suddenly grabbed by an older man.

“hey!” you shout, tugging your arm away. “no touching.” 

you know he knows the rule. everyone gets told it a thousand times before they’re allowed to enter. no touching the dancers without express permission, anywhere on their body.

“sorry, sweets, you just keep going to pretty boy over there.” the man says, and you glance up to see rafe watching the interaction with his jaw locked.

“would you like a dance?” you ask, flicking your eyes back to the man, his entire body reeking of alcohol. it’s one thing you like about rafe, he always orders a glass of whiskey, but he’s never drunk when you dance for him.

the man pulls out a $20 bill, and you snatch it out of his hand more rude than you should for a paying customer, but he put you off by grabbing your wrist, and the $20 gives you a good reason to keep it short, it doesn’t pay for a lot.

you turn around, keeping yourself hovering over the mans lap as you dance half-heartedly, letting your mind drift elsewhere than what you’re currently doing. you eventually lower down so you’re just barely touching him, but when the song ends you pull away.

“you’re not done yet, bitch.” he grabs your hips, pulling you back down as you let out a squeal, losing your footing and falling against him.

rafe is over to you quicker than security is, pulling you off of his lap and into his arms. you turn in his hold as security grabs the man, leading him towards the door as he screams about how much of a bitch you are.

“are you okay?” rafe asks, rubbing your arms, walking you to the outskirts of the room as the final number hits the stage, something you’re supposed to join in the next couple minutes, but you know security already relayed it to your boss what happened.

“yeah, i’m fine.” you shiver, glancing at the door to double check that he is actually gone. “thanks for rescuing me.”

“no problem, angel.” rafe says softly, pulling you into a hug, that you graciously accept, surprised how natural the intimate touch feels, especially considering all of your previous interactions have been sexual.

“i need to get backstage.” you sigh, forcing yourself to step away.

“of course.” rafe squeezes your hand before letting you go. 

you complete the final dance of the night, body working on autopilot as you try to forget the sound of the mans voice calling you a bitch. you finish the dance and head backstage, only glancing briefly at rafe as you leave the stage.

you chat idly with the other dancers, but you mostly keep to yourself tonight as you wash your face free of makeup, change out of your lingerie for a comfy sweat set, and to your biggest relief, take off your heels for a pair of crocs.

“bye, girls!” you call, making sure to have counted your money and cleaned up your locker before leaving. 

you head out the back door, swinging your car keys in your hand as you head towards your vehicle. you get the feeling of being watched, your step quickening when you hear the one voice you don’t want to.

“hey, bitch!” you don’t turn to look, breaking into a run, but the man, even in his inebriated state is faster than your tired legs, grabbing you and shoving you against your car. you hope security is watching the footage of the parking lot as you leave like they’re supposed to, but even then it will take them a full minute.

“please, let me go!” you shout, trying to force the mans hands off of you.

“hey!” you turn your head to the side, coming face to face with your savior once again as rafe shoves the guy off of you and onto the ground, his head smacking against the pavement, but he stays conscious as rafe shouts at him to never touch you or come back here again.

security runs out as you sink to the ground, dropping your head to your knees as you cry. you can tell just from the scent and feel that it’s rafe who wraps his arms around you.

“shh, you’re okay. i got you.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

you wipe away your tears as security escorts him away, bringing him back inside to do who knows what. you’ll let your boss handle that.

“i’m okay.” you whisper, not sure how much you actually mean it as rafe helps you up off the ground. 

you stand in silence for a minute, just holding his hand as you calm down.

“thank you for rescuing me. i guess you’re my angel.” you giggle, making rafe smile. “what were you still doing here anyways?” “well…” rafe trails off, looking guilty. “i always stay until i see you get into your car. just to make sure that you’re safe. you really shouldn’t be walking out alone.”

“rafe, oh my god.” you pitch yourself forward, wrapping your arms around his torso. “you really don’t have to do that, that’s so sweet.” “i wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, angel.” he squeezes you against him.

“y/n.” you pull away to look rafe in the eye as you tell him. “my name is y/n.” 

rafes mouth breaks into a wide grin. “nice to finally meet you, y/n.” 

you turn to look at your car before turning back to rafe. “i really don’t want to be alone tonight.” you tell him, hoping he gets the hint, and you can tell from the look in his eye that he understands exactly what you want, lacing your hands together and leading you towards his car.

you keep quiet on the drive, not even sure how long it is, focusing on the music and rafes hand on your thigh to quell the negative thoughts of if it’s a bad idea to go back with someone who you’ve never seen outside of the strip club.

rafe pulls up to a huge house, and you gape for a moment, but you knew he had money, so it’s not too much of a surprise as he heads around the car to open the door for you.

“thanks for letting me stay over.” you say, admiring how beautiful rafe looks in the moonlight.

“of course, y/n.” rafe smiles, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. you kiss back instantly, keeping it sweet but still passionate as you enjoy the moment before rafe pulls away to lead you inside, and up into his bedroom, not wanting to waste any time.

“did you like my dance today?” you ask as rafe sits on the bed. you stand in between his legs, letting his hands run over your hips and thighs. 

“i loved it.” he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your stomach over your hoodie. “such a pretty pussy.”

he tugs at the zipper, pulling it down and letting it fall from your shoulders, leaving you in a thin tanktop, clearly not wearing any bra. rafe smiles, cupping your breasts. “i may see these every week, but i still am breathless every time i see your body.”

you pull your top off, rafes hands quickly taking the same place without the layer of fabric in between. you moan as his thumbs rub over your nipples.

“fuck, it feels so good.” you moan as rafe leans forward, his lips wrapping around your nipple and giving it a suck. you press your chest into his mouth as his fingers toy with the other nipple, giving you equal stimulation before switching to taste the other one.

rafe pulls away to take his shirt off, and your eyes widen at the muscles revealed. you could tell he was fit, but seeing him shirtless has you in awe.

“take your pants off and get on the bed.” rafe stands when you take a step back to pull your sweatpants and underwear off all at once, no point in hiding it when rafes seen it all before. you lay down on the bed, not sure what position rafe is going to want to fuck you in, all you know is that you want him.

rafe pulls his pants off but leaves his underwear on as he climbs onto the bed. you expect him to continue up and kiss you, but he drops to his stomach in between your legs.

“rafe-” you gasp when he presses kisses to your thighs, trying to get him to stop by closing your legs.

“shh, no.” rafe says gently, pushing your legs back open. “you’ve given me blowjobs with nothing in return, let me eat you out.”

“you paid me in return!” you argue back, feeling your wetness grow at the thought of rafes mouth against your cunt. you’ve never had such an intimate moment with a man before, all of the ones you’ve been with in the past just wanting to use your pussy for their pleasure then leave.

“those were pennies compared to what you deserve. come on baby, let me taste this pretty pussy.” “i’ve never…” you sigh, ashamed to admit this, “i’ve never had someone eat me out before.”

rafe is silent for a moment, and you worry what he’s thinking. “i know i’m a stripper and everything but i’m not super experienced and i’ve just never-” “baby.” rafe says softly, getting you to shut your mouth. “i am only mad that no man has ever done this to you before. you absolutely deserve the pleasure i am about to give you.”

and with that, rafe leans forward, going straight for your clit as he licks broad strokes over the most sensitive part of you, making you see stars from the sudden pleasure he brings you.

“oh my god, yes!” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure overwhelms you. rafe drops his mouth lower, tongue lapping against your entrance and greedily tasting your wetness, gathering it all into his mouth.

he swirls his tongue along your folds, touching new parts of you with every movement, keeping his focus on your pleasure as he darts back to your clit to press kisses to it, your back arching off the bed as you cry out.

“you’ve had a hard day, y/n.” rafe says, barely pulling his mouth away from your pussy, letting his words vibrate. “just relax and let me make you feel good.”

you take a deep breath and settle into the bed, bringing your hands to his hair as you push his head back between your spread thighs. rafe juts his tongue out, letting you move him as he licks obsessively over your pussy.

he brings his mouth back to your clit, kissing and licking gently as one of his fingers prods at your entrance, easily being able to slip in due to how wet you are.

rafe moans against your clit as he pumps his finger in and out of you. you want to squeal at the movement, but you manage to control yourself to just moans as you feel your high getting closer, never having it come so quickly with a partner before.

“fuck, rafe, i’m close!” you warn, but he doesn’t pull away, doubling down on his efforts until you burst, flooding his mouth as you squirt onto the bed sheets, but it doesn’t phase him as he continues to eat you out as you ride out your orgasm.

he finally pulls his face away from your soaked cunt, wiping his mouth against a dry part of the bed sheets. 

“oh my god, i’m so sorry, i didn’t think i was gonna squirt.” you cover your face with your hands.

“y/n.” rafe says gently, draping his body over yours and pulling your hands away from your face. “you have nothing to be embarrassed about. that was the hottest thing ever. look how hard you made me.”

rafe presses against your core, and you moan out from your oversensitive clit being stimulated so soon after an orgasm, wishing the fabric of his underwear wasn’t in the way so rafe could plunge inside of you.

“can i fuck you now or do you need a break?” rafe smirks when you scoff, you need him immediately and you think your body might just explode if he isn’t inside of you soon.

rafe tugs his underwear off, revealing his cock that you’ve had in your mouth so many times, now about to cross the final boundary. rafe grabs a condom he must have tossed onto the bed at some point, rolling it over his cock before getting back into position, hovering over you.

you don’t bother to argue about letting you ride him after he ate you out, knowing rafe is focused on your pleasure right now, not like guys you’ve been with in the past wanting you to ride them and then bust within minutes.

“god, i’ve wanted this so bad since i first laid eyes on you.” rafe mumbles, mostly speaking to himself as his cock presses against your entrance. 

you connect your lips in a kiss as he pushes inside, both simultaneously moaning as he sinks deeper into your cunt until he’s completely nestled in your heat.

“you can move.” you whisper after a moment, not needing anymore time to adjust, craving his quick thrusts into you, but while rafe starts to move, he keeps it slow and passionate, rolling his hips against yours in a steady motion. 

“heaven.” rafe kisses your forehead, then both your cheeks, before connecting your mouth in a kiss. “your pussy is heaven.”

you blush under the praise, not used to something so intimate, used to sex being impersonal, being seen just as an object.

“god, you have to keep letting me fuck you after this, angel, i’m never gonna get enough.” rafe moans, grinding against you to give your clit some stimulation.

“you can fuck me whenever you want if you-” you gasp at a particularly deep thrust from rafe “move faster.” rafe smiles, hips starting to buck into you with earnest now, his cock pressing so deep that it has you seeing stars.

“fuck, that’s good.” you whine, squirming underneath rafe as he ignores your movements underneath him, focusing on thrusting into you.

rafe grunts as you feel his cock move against your walls, his face twisting in pleasure. you grab his shoulders, needing to feel connected to him.

“this…” you pant, moving your body on the bed to match rafes thrusts, bringing your hips up despite the burn in your stretched thighs. “is the best sex i’ve ever had.” you tell him honestly.

the side of rafes lip quirks up in a cocky smile, bending to press your lips together as he keeps his rhythm. you regret not agreeing to this earlier. you would have fucked rafe the first night he came to the club if you knew he was this good in bed.

“sounds like you should be the one paying me.” rafe jokes, making you slap his shoulder gently, unable to really laugh as he keeps you moaning with his cock touching every part of you, his pelvic hitting your clit with every thrust.

“close.” you tell rafe, feeling your orgasm building up again, hoping rafe is also close because you’re not sure how much longer you can hold back.

“me too, baby.” rafe groans, his cock swelling inside of you. you’re unable to hold back the rush any longer, entire body shaking as rafes cock forces your orgasm from you, again a rush of liquid being expelled as your arms tighten around rafes shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, wanting to feel as much of him as possible.

you barely even notice rafe pulling out and tugging the condom off, rutting against your stomach until he cums, covering your torso. 

you breathe deeply as you let go, letting rafe flop to the side to lay on the bed next to you, both recovering from the activity, heartbeat slowly coming back to normal. when you’re able to move your body again, you turn on your side to come face to face with rafe.

“hey.” he smiles gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“hey.” you giggle.

“i knew you wouldn’t regret coming home to me.” rafe says, rubbing his hand over your back.

“i made a mess of your bed though.” you feel a flush of embarrassment, looking down at the wetness that has soaked into the sheets.

“we will just shower than sleep in one of the guest beds. you can make a mess of all of them for all i care, anything to have you again…” rafe pauses for a moment, letting you enjoy his rough hand smoothing over your skin. “you will let me have you again, right?” “yeah.” you nod, there’s no way you can give up rafe now that you’ve gotten a taste. “you can even take me on that date if you still want to.”

rafe smiles, positioning himself on top of your body, pressing kisses all over your face, hands tickling at your sides as you squirm with laughter underneath him. “my angel.” rafe sighs happily, pressing a kiss to your lips.

[rafesangelita]

hi! i just found your blog and i wanted to say i love it so much! ur vibe is so cutesy. i was wondering if you could write a drabble about sucking rafe off after he has a good night for business and hes all proud of himself and once you two get home from the party he sold all the coke at you just get on your knees in front of your bed and say you wanna make ur daddy feel good 🤗🤗🤗. -👛

warnings: fluff, dealing of drugs, mentions of marriage and pregnancy, slight praise, oral (m receiving), use of the name daddy (just once)

“eight hundred, nine hundred.. three thousand!” you and rafe shouted, both of you hugging each other tightly as he stuffed the wad of cash in his pocket. “what the fuck?!” he smiled like he couldn’t believe he made that much money in the last hour. you bounced in his lap, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “see, i told you you’d sell out!” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you up with him as he slung his now empty backpack over his shoulder. the ride back home consisted of rafe blasting his music, the wind blowing through your hair as he hollered out the window.

“are you happy?” rafe intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. “only with you by my side.” you swear your heart melted into a puddle on the floor as he pulled into the driveway of tanneyhill. “don’t touch that door handle.” you laughed as you watched him run around the truck, a squeal sounding from your mouth when he whisked you away, making your sandal fall off. “rafe!” he shushed you. “i’ll get it in the mornin’.” you slapped his chest playfully, surrendering to him as he carried you inside. “this is how i’d take you upstairs after our wedding on the beach.” you gazed up at him, sighing dreamily as he stopped in front of his bedroom door.

“yeah?” he hummed, taking you inside where he softly laid you down on his bed. “and then i’d make the sweetest love to you, ‘make sure you get all pretty and pregnant.” he leaned in, kissing you gently. there was no better feeling than being able to submit to rafe when he gave you all the reassurance and love you never had to ask for. before you could welcome him between your legs, he pulled away, emptying his pockets on the dresser. you bit your lip, sliding your dress down your thighs until you were left in nothing but your underwear. rafe watched you lower yourself on your knees, his gaze darkening once you met his eyes in the mirror.

“why are you on the floor?” he knew why, but he wanted to hear the words leave your lips. “.. i just want to make my daddy feel good.” he nodded, more to himself than you, his cock already hardening in his shorts. he walked over, manspreading as he took a seat at the edge of the bed. you ran your hands over his thighs, your perfectly manicured fingers working him out of his clothes. “you know.. everything you do, i know you do it for us,” you brought a hand down to his erection, “for me..” your lips skimmed his ear, making him shudder. “you always take care of me,” he watched you take him out of his boxers, your eyes gleaming with need, “can i take care of you?”

it wasn’t long before you had rafe in your throat, his fingers tugging at the roots of your hair while he struggled to keep his eyes open. “oh my fucking god.” his jaw clenched as tears started forming in your eyes. he had made you clasp your hands behind your back so he could thrust his hips into your mouth at an unforgiving speed. you knew once he held your head at his pubic bone that he was going to cum. you moaned at the same time he did, swallowing around his tip while you took every drop of his hot load. rafe was a groaning mess as he came down from his high, pulling you off of his cock with a gasp. “you okay, baby?” he rubbed the spots of your scalp that he was pulling on. “yes,” your voice sounded raw, making rafe stroke your chin.

“let’s get in the shower, we have a long day of shopping tomorrow.”

[totalswag]

Please a Drew and reader. They are in the dating faze getting to know each other. However Drew is having some trouble getting to know her. Reader has been in a quite toxic relationship before with a guy that could be mean, did not like when she was being physically loving (holding hands, kissing, hugging) brushing her off literally and could sometimes make her feel like she was being a burden whenever she was talking, which in turn has made her not open up to much, in fear, that she will come off as annoying. When they are having a date at home, Drew pulls her close to hold her and kiss her forehead, but she pulls away after awhile. He then brings up what has been bothering him, afraid, sad and a bit nervous that she does not like him as much as he likes her.

you can trust me — DREW STARKEY

authors note hi baby! thank you for the request and sorry it came so late when you initially requested. life has been crazy since my semester has begun.

REQUEST— open

summary holding back when it comes to physical touch and being your complete self in a new relationship with someone new.

warning(s) mentions of past toxic relationships, insecurities, questioning self-worth.

Drew and you have been seeing each other for almost a month. You haven't felt so happy in a long time to be with someone that values, supports, and loves you for who you are.

Meeting him was unexpected but came into your life when you needed him the most. Drew is very gentle with you and patient in ways you couldn't describe.

Drew has noticed that you are reluctant to touch him and quickly pull away or get nervous before taking his hand. This is something he has noticed about you as you have spent more time with him. He wants to know why you're like this but wants you to be comfortable.

Both are getting to know one other. You haven't gathered the guts to discuss your previous relationship with your ex, who treated you like dirt and never wanted you to touch him. Whether it be holding hands, kissing, embracing, or any other physical contact.

Physical touch is a part of your love language. So being pushed away from someone you care about while attempting to express your feelings for them makes you feel burdened.

Your ex ruined you in a lot of ways.

Once you met Drew, immediately knowing you can be yourself with him without him retaliating. But, you haven't showed him that side of you yet because of your past.

Drew invited you to his apartment for dinner tonight and prepared your favorite pasta dish. He understands you've had a difficult week at work, so he thought inviting you over for dinner would cheer you up.

"Thank you for dinner, Drew; it was delicious," you say, smiling sweetly as you finish your pasta.

"I really appreciate that, Y/N," he says with a smile. "I'm always open to making you dinner."

He’s so sweet

Drew and you cleaned the kitchen before heading to the living room to watch a movie to end the night. He thought it would be good to bring out the food and drinks while you waited on the couch.

"What movie do you wanna watch?" With the TV remote in his left hand while looking at the movie selections.

"Uhh pitch perfect" you reply.

Drew nods in agreement, clicking the movie.

Drew tries to wrap his right arm around your shoulder and kiss you on the forehead halfway through the film, but you pull away hesitantly.

"Everything alright, Y/N?" he frowns with emotion and confusion, "did I do something wrong?"

Your heart fell as the question hovered there. You had been sensing this for days, even weeks, so you knew it was coming. But now that it was here, you were at a loss for words, unable to respond or justify it without driving him away.

When you eventually raised your head to meet his, you could feel the sorrow in his eyes, which tightened your chest. Your voice was barely heard as you murmured, "No, you didn't do anything wrong."

Everything in you was crumbling all together.

"Then why?" With a hand sweeping through his hair, he trailed off, unsure of how to carry on. "Why are you putting distance between us? Are you —? When he began again, you could hear his hesitation and fragility in his voice. "Do you not like me as much as I like you?"

Please don't say that

His words punched you in the gut— hitting you so deep. This wasn't fair to him what so ever. You like him as much as he likes you. Feelings are mutual.

"It's not that," you answered hastily, your voice shaking as you tried to fight back the tears that were about to fall. Yes, Drew, I do like you. Many times.

"So why," He asked. Seeking answers, he gazed at you, his eyes darting over yours. "What makes me think that you're scared to let me in?"

Fiddling with your fingers, trying to gather the words to say. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. Drew knows about your last relationship but not the whole gist.

“I’ve been hurt before,” you began, your voice trembling. “My last relationship… it wasn’t good. He made me feel like I was too much, like I was annoying whenever I tried to talk or show affection. He’d brush me off, make me feel like I was a burden. And I guess… I guess I’m afraid of that happening again.”

Drew's expression softens with hurt, anger, and confusion. He continues to let you speak while holding your hands in reassurance—thumb gently circling over your knuckles. You can't help but let a few tears as you speak.

"I'm so sorry you went through that."

"It's not your fault. I've gotten so used to holding everything in, I didnt want you to think of me differently and walk away from me" you confess with your chest.

Drew's other hand reached up to softly cup your cheek and use his thumb to wipe away the tears while his grip on your hand tightened. He said, "You're not going to drive me away," and you might believe him because of the quiet passion in his voice. 

"Y/N, I like you just the way you are. I was immediately drawn to your lovely demeanor and am still doing so now. Nothing you are doing is wrong. His eyes never leaving yours, "We can take this at any pace you want and I'll still be here."

You feel a sense of relief fall off your shoulders. The fear you've been holding back slowly drifts away.

"I want you to show how much you like me whether that be words or physical touch. I would never pull you away."

You didn't push away as he moved in to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. For the first time in a long time, you felt as though maybe—just maybe—you could begin to lower your barriers as you allowed yourself to lean into him and experience the warmth and security of his embrace.

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[erwinsvow]

there is nothing in this world that rafe cameron loves more than a sundress.

correction—that used to be the case. there's nothing in this world that rafe loves more than you in a sundress.

what had started off as a small preference, usually just joked about and then forgotten until the next sundress season started, had now turned into a full-blown obsession.

rafe stares, though he really shouldn't—mostly because he looks like a complete creep with his gaze locked on you all the time. even when you're just a few feet away, his eyes are burning holes through your body, especially when you're in one of those dresses.

he stares at the hem, how it floats around your thighs when you walk and brushes gently against your skin. doesn't that bother you? he thinks to himself, fully knowing how sensitive that part of you is because usually he's the one touching you there. you squirm when his fingers trace behind your knee and up your thighs, but the dress doesn't seem to do anything like that.

he stares at thin straps, sometimes hastily tied into a bow resting on the top of your shoulders, other times skinny little things that he thinks he could rip off with a little tug. he wouldn't even have to put much strength into it, it would probably tear away from your dress at the first pull. he can't—of course—you love your precious dresses too much for that and he's thinking these thoughts at the dinner table in front of a whole restaurant, but the thought still lingers.

other times it's the way the straps have slid off your shoulder, resting around your arm until you bring your fingers to lift it again. and even then, it just falls again at the next jostle of your body.

like now, when you're shopping for something new and rafe's following right behind you. there's a shopping bag in one hand that you won't let him hold, and your purse on the other arm, and everytime you try to browse through a rack, the strap falls down.

you give up after the next few times, letting your bare shoulder face rafe while you try to find a new pair of jeans from the options in front of you. when you pick up a pair and turn to rafe, you find he's already staring.

"rafe?" you ask, not sure exactly what he's looking at you so keenly for. "do you like these?"

you hold the jeans out to him for an opinion, though you know what'll he say—that all of the ones on the rack look the same to him.

but he doesn't say anything. still staring at you with an intensity you don't understand, your boyfriend's eyes briefly flick from the jeans back to you, and then to your shoulder. he reaches out, fingers brushing your skin, and your head turns to follow. he picks up the fallen strap from your arm and brings it up around the curve of your shoulder until it's secured once again.

"oh," you say, turning to rafe with a smile. your face feels surprisingly hot. "thank you."

"yeah," rafe mutters, looking back at you while you turn—a little confused—back to the jeans on the rack.

it's not just the straps, either, it's all of it. the pretty colors that make your skin glow, some of the floral patterns he's engrained into his memory from looking at for far too long, even the way the dress sits on your body.

but more than that, it's because he knows exactly what's underneath these dresses and what's waiting for him.

he knows all of it—miles of smooth skin, curves that are made for his touch, the places where the two of you fit together like pieces of a puzzle. staring at you now, mindlessly sifting through the clothes without a second thought or even an understanding of what exactly is running through your boyfriend's mind, you wander over to other dresses.

there's more of the same—skinny straps and short, flowy skirts. each one you hold up paints a vivid picture in his head—how easily he could lift it up to your hips, how the fabric would look bunched around your stomach while he holds you in place.

he does that a lot—keep you in your little dresses while he fucks you, sometimes out of impatience, sometimes out of the sheer desire to watch your body sweat and strain inside the material until he eventually gives in and rips it up.

yes, rafe loves your sundresses.

"pink.." you say, holding up one dress with another sweet smile, snapping him out of his thoughts instantly. "or white?"

both look similar—the pink is smaller, maybe a little more snug on you, which is an appealing thought. the white is looser, but with the little straps he likes so much, the ones he can untie with one tug and reveal your tits in one go.

"hm," rafe says, as though he's actually considering it. he leans in a little, and you keep smiling, eyes a little big, waiting for an answer. but you don't get one, just rafe taking both hangers out of your hand.

"no, i didn't mean-"

"i know. c'mon, kid, let's get outta here."

"rafe, i just want one-"

"well you're gettin' both."

a little pout takes over your features—you don't really mean it, he knows, since two dresses instead of one is nothing to complain about. instead he knows you feel bad about it. but to you, rafe is nothing if not generous. he turns back, clutching both of your new dresses way too tightly in his fist.

"how 'bout.. you get both, and you thank me at home? huh?" your pout replaced with a smile, you nod at rafe while you lead him to the check out counter.

he stares at the back of your dress while you walk away. too distracted again, he stays in place, watching.

"rafe? are you coming?"

"yeah, kid. comin'."

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … TASTE ♡

track one of the short n’sweet series. pairing: bunny!reader x puppy!reader — based loosely off the song taste by sabrina carpenter. disclaimer: this story is based in a separate universe to the usual pogue!puppy / bunny!reader universe! enjoy ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

sometimes, relationships just don’t work out.

it wasn’t totally surprising — and looking back on it, to pup — it seemed as though it were doomed from the start. they were from totally different worlds, rafe being a kook and pup being a pogue and at first, truly she found it kind of romantic. the whole montagues versus capulet type of vibe that made her only wanna pin herself harder to rafe cameron’s side.

what made her love him was ultimately their downfall. he was downright mean most days, from the way he’d tug her about to the way he’d shake her head anytime she did anything he deemed too pogue-ish. rafe cameron is one of those few men that are so gorgeous that they could get away with murder, quite literally — so it wasn’t to anyone’s surprise that she put up with him for so long. that cruelty that she allowed was a reflection of how she truly felt about herself on the inside. undeserving of respect. each time he’d fuck her into the mattress with her face planted into a pillow, creaming uncontrollably around his base — she’d be revelling in the physical affection no matter how rough and violating it came across— even more so when he’d hold her at the end of it. always short lived, always fleeting, always made her feel better.

she’d escaped that relationship to learn how to love herself. with experience now under her belt gained from the kook himself, she was free to navigate the world and search for someone that just might touch her with a gentle hand. gone were the days she craved a strike to the cheek or blunt fingernails gripping into her ass. softness was what she needed, and by god she’d find it.

she didn’t actually think she’d care to think about him much more down the line a few months later— he was merely a thing of the past and honestly puppy was doing a lot better because of it. but unsurprisingly, old feelings were surely drug up when the kook boy who she forgot to unfollow all but jumpscared her on her instagram feed. not his usual self worshipping post of him on a yacht, no— it was her old rafe, with a girl on his arm. clinging to him just like pup did.

the girl was tagged, and puppy didn’t hesitate to press. it was just curiosity, she told herself as she scrolled down the sea of pink feed this mystery girl had created— a couple of pictures with rafe already posted. she was jaw dropping, a kook no doubt from the looks of her bedroom in the background of her mirror selfies. a prom queen, as titled in one of her posts with a tiara from a good few years ago at the bottom of her feed and an ex beauty pageant baby judging by the throwback thursday pinned in her highlights. there was this gentle yet pampered and spoiled energy around her like the world fell at her feet. a fluffed up, well fed bunny rabbit in a hutch of gold.

pup started to see bunny around more and more since finding her instagram. the pogue girl would find herself ever so slightly ducking out of vision upon spotting the two of them loading up onto rafes boat as she sailed past. her skin seemed to glow in the sunlight and pup wondered if rafe was the one to massage the sunscreen oil into her skin, taking extra time to massage it into the plush skin of her ass, even smirking when she squealed and told him to watch his hands in public. as they stand at the pier, rafe has a gentle hand on her lower back, fingers tucked ever so slightly into the waistband of her bikini. he looks… soft, and non threatening. touching her like she was made of glass, touching her gentler than he ever touched puppy.

puppy’s heart all but stopped in her chest when she served bunny at the checkout of the store she worked in. she supposed rafe couldn’t have been far, sending bunny in alone as to not have an awkward run in with her knowing she worked there. a part of pup wanted bun to be rude. she was a kook after all — and aren’t exes supposed to hate the new girl? of course, she was nothing of the type. sweet and patient, with good eye contact and a perfect smile. it should have made pup’s blood run cold. should have.

instead, pup buried herself in the weird guilt that sat on her chest when she’d find herself typing bunny’s instagram handle into the search bar and sliding a hand down her shorts a few nights later, in need of quick relief. she told herself it was purely physical, a strange bodily reaction to jealousy and comparison — and the fact that bun had her tits hanging out her top in every picture, and pup could distinctly remember the way her ass cheeks jiggled as they hung beneath her short hemline when she exit the store she works at. nothing more than a quick, weird orgasm.

bunny had heard whisperings of the girl rafe was with before she arrived in kildare. a pogue, not that it mattered but she was simply surprised. by the way rafe spoke so ill of those from the other side of the island, bun couldn’t help but wonder what that relationship looked like, why it ended, how. she tried to be subtle in asking around of course, purely out of curiosity — but words to quell a non existent insecurity were thrown vaguely her way instead, quick to put down the other woman. “you’re so much better with rafe. it just makes sense, you know? that girl before you… sheesh, i don’t know. pretty girl, but a real scruffball. i don’t know what rafe was thinking.”

the same thing carried through when she even tried to ask rafe, who simply scoffed and shrugged her off with a “why? who— who cares about that bitch.” before continuing on with his heavy petting, moving in to kiss her jaw. bunny turned her head away in thought.

bun’s heart rate picked up a bunch when they started to kiss. she must’ve been a sick perv for feeling curious, because each time rafes tongue passed over hers she could only imagine how many times the same wet muscle would glide through the pretty pogues folds to land up near her clit. she wondered if he ever treat her that well. she wondered if you deserved it.

when puppy heard that rafe had been speaking ill of her at the country club once more, she didn’t think — just immediately marched to tanny hill to confront him. perhaps it was unwise of her to think rafe cameron could be mature enough to handle a breakup without talking down on her — but regardless, she had done too much healing and growing to let things slide.

with blood pumping in her ears and anger thrumming in her gut she marched right into the open doors of tanny hill, figuring he’d be home. but after calling his name a good few times, demanding his presence in the foyer — she decided to go looking for him herself, mary-jane converse plodding up the stairs in the direction of his bedroom. a chill settles over her skin at not only the eerie silence, but the fact it had been a long time since she’d taken this oddly familiar journey.

swinging open the doors, pup is met with a gut wrenching sight. it wasn’t him stood before her, but bunny— and she’s clad in a stupid little pink silk robe.

“oh i’m not — i was coming to find rafe because— he’s — he is being an asshole.”

bunny looks nothing close to surprised. infact, she moves slow— blinking her dolly eyelashes as she takes it all in. pup was the last person she’d expected to see, and yet it was not unwelcomed. she wondered why she wasn’t shocked regarding an acquaintance barging angrily into the house. why she’d felt her presence from a block away.

“i know.” she breathes, and it’s all she says.

twenty seven minutes later, and pup finds herself on her back in rafe cameron’s bed once more— months after she told herself it was the last time. though it wasn’t rafe that had her throwing her head back and digging her pastel-painted nails into the sheets, it was the glittering cloud of woman between her thighs, lapping up each drop of juice that seeps from the peak.

bunny is hungry— she’d never eaten a girl out before but god does she know what she likes, twirling her tongue like a tiny ballet dancer in circles around pups poor swollen clit. the pogue is beside herself, feet pressed flat to the bed so she could raise her hips and hump against the girls mouth. she’s sure she’d had a dream like this once that she tried to erase from her mind.

knocked back by the force of puppy’s humps, bun pulls back to look at the girl all bleary eyed and fucked out, lips glossy despite her makeup being wiped off a while ago from their frantic, confused and desperate kisses.

“s’it your first time? rafe never…” she whispers, like saying his name made it more likely they’d get caught.

pup shakes her head, broken out of her trance with a wobbling bottom lip. “n—no. never. he said— said i wasn’t — he just wouldn’t—”

“oh gosh.” bunny sighs in disappointment. “literally can’t imagine why not.” her manicured fingers spread pups puffy folds, and she whimpers in arousal as she watches the pogues pretty clit twitching in desperation to be sucked on again. “i jus’ dont know what it is…” her hot breath kisses pups clit anyways. “but ever since i knew who you were… jus’ wanted to know what it was like…” she smears her lips around the area pup needed her the most, if there was any lipgloss left over it would have transferred to her skin. “to taste you.”

pup had to say, the feeling was mutual.

[etheraltides]

BITTER SWEET ᥫ᭡࿔ - 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x kook!thornton!Reader

Summarize: Rafe Cameron, a rising name in the business world, desperately needs a date for the wedding of the year. With a major investment deal on the line and his image at stake, he finds himself reluctantly turning to the last person he ever expected for help: Topper’s little sister, a girl he’s bickered with since he could remember.

Warning(s): none so far. Despite the photo being used as the cover of the story, there are as little body descriptions for the reader as possible.

A/N: English isn’t my first language and I did my best do edit it all - so if something escaped me, please, let me know .ᐟ

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ Chapter one: sealing the deal ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

Rafe Cameron stood on the front steps of Topper’s house, starring at the tall wooden door where the stakes were impossibly high. He ran a hand through his hair, jaw set in frustration. What the hell did it have to be her? He’d asked himself that question a dozen times on the drive over, and still, he hadn’t come up with a good answer. She was the safest option. Not the best. Safest. That was the only reason. Or so he kept telling himself.

As he raised his hand to ring the doorbell, the door swung open and there she was – Topper’s sister, dressed in a loose t-shirt and denim shorts, barefoot on the porch. Your hair slightly tousled framed your face, the same sharp, calculating expression you always wore whenever he was around sent a flicker of irritation through him - it was like you always seemed to know what he was thinking before he did.

Your gaze narrowed, sweating over him, briefly curious and confused.

“Rafe?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re at the wrong house. Topper’s not here.”

He cleared his throat, trying to focus. She always had a way of making him feel like he was already losing some unspoken competition. “I know.”

“Then why have you been standing on my porch like a psycho for the past ten minutes?” You arched a brow, holding the urge to just close the door and go back to your tanning session. You were so relaxed before your phone rang, an alarm from the camera app informing that there was movement in front of the house. You had rolled your eyes when you recognize the figure in the video, hoping he’d leave but he didn’t so there you were.

Wasn’t it too early for your patience and kindness to be tested?

“You are.. infuriating, aren’t you?” Rafe dry laugh escaped his lips, plastering on a fake smile as he held back the urge to call you names. That wouldn’t get him anywhere.

You arched an eyebrow, lips curling slightly at the corner. “So… what do you want?”

Rafe hesitated, eyes flicking to the side for a second as if looking for an escape. He could still leave, save himself the embarrassment. But no, he needed this. He squared his shoulders, locking his gaze onto hers. “I need a favor.”

His words made you arch your brows, head tilting as you watched him with curiosity and suspicious – Hadn’t Topper stopped with the pranks?

Your surprise was brief, barely a flicker in your eyes before you masked it with a smirk. “You need me to do you a favor? Now I have to hear this.”

Maybe Rafe Cameron was finally out of his mind.

Rafe gritted his teeth, your teasing tone instantly getting under his skin, as usual. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

You leaned against the doorframe, your body tilting slightly toward him, but with that same casual arrogance you always carried towards him. “Doesn’t seem like nothing if you came all the way here to ask. So, what is it?”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fighting the urge to look away. “There’s a wedding this weekend. The Haverfords’ daughter. I need a date.”

Your eyes narrowed, lips pressing together as you tried to hide a smile, masking your laugh with a cough. “You’re asking me to be your date to a wedding? Are you out of your mind?”

“Fake date,” he corrected quickly, teeth gritted. He ran a hand on the back of his hand. Rafe sighed, shifting his weight “I need this to seal the deal with the Haverfords. Their daughter’s wedding is this weekend, and it’s a high-profile event. Showing up solo? Not good for business. It’s about optics—looking stable, like I’ve got my life together. You help me, I’ll make it worth your while.”

You gave him a slow, incredulous look, eyes flicking over his face as if waiting for him to reveal the punchline. “And why me, Rafe? You could take any girl on the island—half of them would jump at the chance.”

Rafe felt a familiar irritation rising. Couldn’t you say no or yes already? “I don’t have time to babysit someone all night. I need someone who can, you know… hold their own. You get how these events go, and I won’t have to worry about you saying something dumb.”

Your smile faltered slightly, and you studied him for a long moment, as if weighing his words. “So I’m your safest option?”

“More like my most reliable option,” he countered, but there was a tightness in his chest, and he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he was treading on dangerous ground. “You won’t embarrass me.”

You crossed your arms more tightly, your lips pressed into a line as you looked at him with a mix of defiance and intrigue. “And if I do?”

“Then I’ll figure it out,” he said, but he could feel the heat creeping into his cheeks. Anger. It irritated him how you had this effect on him, like his heart was suddenly racing, erasing any trace of calmness from his being. “But I need someone solid, not a gold-digger looking for a free meal.”

You stepped a little closer, your expression unreadable, eyes locked onto his as if searching for something beneath the surface. “Was that Rafe Cameron complimenting me?”

“Don’t read too much into it. I think you know how to navigate these situations. That’s all.” Rafe said, trying to keep his tone steady. “Look, if I knew something else would work, trust me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near you right now. And it’s just for one weekend, alright?”

“So that’s what I am to you now?” You tilted your head, finding it rather amused to watch him squirm. Desperate trying to be nice for once. “Your best option?”

“Look, I’m not saying that—”

“But that’s exactly what you’re saying,” You cut him off, your voice rising slightly, though it lacked real anger. Your eyes sparked with something he couldn’t quite define, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “You need me because I won’t make a fool of you.”

Rafe narrowed his eyes, refusing to back down to admit that yes, he was a bit desperate for help. Your help.

He really didn’t want to risk making a not good enough impression. The best investor of Charleston would be in that wedding. Hell, he had invited Rafe himself. The Cameron young man needed him to boost his business to another level. To build something great, a name for himself so he wouldn’t leave in his father’s shadows and hear his disapproving comments whenever he hit the pillow. He’d make his dad proud for once. Be the man of the family.

Your arched your brows, lips trapped between your teeth as the rational voice argued with the kind voice in your head. “You really need this, don’t you?”

You held his gaze, a mix of challenge and unspoken understanding lingering between them. The air felt thick, and for a brief moment, he was struck by the way your expression softened, the corners of your mouth barely twitching as if you were holding back a smile.

“I’ll do it,” you finally said, breaking the tension. “But only if you take me shopping for the wedding. I need something that’ll actually fit in with that crowd, and you’re paying. Of course.”

He opened his mouth to protest but found himself momentarily speechless. “You really think you can just— I don’t have time for this.”

“Take it or leave it, Rafe,” you shrugged, stepping back slightly. The challenge in your eyes was unmistakable, yet there was something else there too, something that made his pulse quicken in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Fine,” he relented, forcing a casual tone as he looked away, trying to mask the sudden tightness in his chest. “But don’t expect me to enjoy this.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, a sly smile creeping onto your lips. “I’m sure it’ll be a blast… Boyfriend.”

As you turned back to the house, Rafe caught a glimpse of her profile, the way her hair fell just right, and for a moment, he felt an unsettling rush – even her nose was slightly upturned in an annoying way.

While he walked down the steps, he could feel her gaze lingering on him, the tension from their earlier conversation still hanging in the air, heavy and confusing.

“Pick me up tomorrow at noon. Don’t be late, Cameron.” You quickly tell him before closing the door, not leaving any room to argue.

As he stepped off the porch, Rafe couldn’t shake the feeling that this fake date might become something far more complicated than he had intended. It wasn’t like you to do anything that favored him, even for money.

Lying under the sun, she closed her eyes, trying to relax. But Rafe Cameron’s words replayed in her mind like a broken record. Out of all the people, he had come to her – someone he couldn’t stand for more than half an hour without starting a fight. The thought made her scoff softly, her fingers trailing across the warm fabric of the lounge chair.

What had he been thinking? Or maybe the better question was, why had she even agreed? The sun felt oppressive now, its heat only intensifying the whirlwind of thoughts in her head. The same strange tension that had pulsed between them earlier crept back into her chest. She hated how her heart had raced during that conversation, how he managed to get under her skin just by breathing.

But she could use the money. Soon her college break would be over and her mom wasn’t being easy with her spending habits lately - even threatening to cut her credit card if she didn’t take better care of her finances.

She hoped this would count when she reached heaven’s gate. Helping Rafe Cameron should be a VIP ticket to the paradise in the after life because God knew she’d need all her patience and self control for that.

With a frustrated sigh, she stood up. Enough. She wasn’t going to waste any more time thinking about Rafe Cameron.

Without a second thought, she walked to the edge of the pool and dove in, the cool water enveloping her like a cleansing balm. As she surfaced, the weight in her chest loosened, but she knew it wouldn’t be gone for long.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ TAGLIST: @megiiite @melsunshine

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[itneverendshere]

INVISIBLE STRING - r.c series (two)

pairing:: pogue!rafe x sweetheart!kook reader. chapter warnings: domestic violence; absent parents; angst; fluff.

part one

Rafe didn’t know how to describe it, but it was like… he was breathing easier. Like he wasn’t always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He couldn’t believe you’d chosen him, a stray. He’d been taking it slow with you. 

It was mid-afternoon, and you were by the lake this time, sitting on the weathered dock, feet dangling off the edge, again. He had his fishing rod in hand, showing you how to cast it properly. The sun hung low in the sky, painting everything in this soft, golden light that made your hair glow like some kind of halo. He had to keep glancing away because it messed with his head. A literal angel.

“You gotta flick your wrist, not your whole arm,” he explained, demonstrating it for you. “Like this.” He flicked the rod smoothly, sending the line out into the water with barely a ripple.

You gave him a look, like you were tired of his shit but then copied his motion. Your line barely made it halfway to where his was, and you huffed, frustrated. He laughed quietly, shaking his head.

“You’re tryin’ too hard,” he said, standing up to move behind you. “Here, lemme help.”

He hesitated for a second, then stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your from behind, guiding your hands to hold the rod correctly. He could feel your body tense for a second before you relaxed into him, your back against his chest. His breath hitched, but he focused on showing you what to do, trying to ignore the way his heart raced from being this close to you. He was whipped.

“Now, just flick it—gentle, like you’re barely trying” He guided your hands again, and this time, the line shot out farther into the water, just like his.

You grinned, looking over your shoulder at him, and he realized how close your faces were. Too close. His breath caught, but he didn’t move, didn’t pull away. He never did.

“See?” he muttered, “Told ya, you got it.”

“Only ‘cause you helped,” you said, voice was all soft and sweet, like honey.

Your eyes didn’t leave his, and he couldn’t look away if he tried. He could feel the warmth of you, smell the faint scent of your shampoo mixed with the lake air. He should’ve moved. He should’ve stepped back, given you space.

But he didn’t.

“Is this why you wanted to teach me how to fish? So you could feel me up?”

Rafe’s face flushed red, heat creeping up his neck and into his cheeks.

“N-no,” he stammered, but it sounded lame even to him. He stepped back, giving you space like he was supposed to, scratching the back of his neck, trying to play it off like he wasn’t burning up inside. “I was just… y’know, teaching’ you how to cast. Not my fault if you can’t get it right on your own.”

You laughed, that soft, carefree sound that always messed him up, like you didn’t know you were punching way out of his league. You turned back to face the water, flicking the rod out again, and this time, it went far—farther than you expected, your excitement obvious as you glanced back at him.

“Look at that!” you said, grinning like you’d just won something. “I’m getting better.”

He laughed, “Told ya you could do it.”

He shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t be that close to you, shouldn’t want you the way he did. But there you were, fishing with him like it was normal. He sat back down beside you on the dock, pulling his cap lower over his eyes, trying to cool down and act like his heart wasn’t still racing. 

Rafe was feeling like his stomach was doing flips, and not the good kind. He wasn’t the type to get all worked up over stuff like this, but here he was, his hands sweaty, his heart racing like he just ran five miles.

You were sitting across from him now, looking all laid back and pretty, messing with that dumb bracelet he’d seen you wear a hundred times before, and he couldn’t stop thinking about what he was about to ask you.

You two had been sort of together, what, two months now? He didn’t know how to explain it, but every time he saw you, it was like a part of him just... calmed down. Like all the chaos in his head got a little quieter when you were around. And that scared the hell out of him.

He wasn’t the kinda guy to catch feelings. Hell, he’d spent most of his life trying to not feel stuff. It was easier that way. Safer. But there he was, that night, two months ago, sitting’ next to you on that fancy couch in your parents' house, kissing the living hell out of you. He couldn’t get you out of his system even if he tried.

And then he kissed you again, every day for that matter, for the next couple of months. Because, how could he not? You were perfect. His absolute dream girl. 

He shouldn’t want this so bad. Shouldn’t be sitting there trying to memorize the way you looked in that moment. And yet, here he was, listing off your favorite things in his head like it was his new obsession.

He thought about the way you’d light up when you’d talk about books. Not just any books, though. You had this thing for old, worn-out paperbacks, the ones that looked like they’d been through it. You said they felt like they had history, like every dog-eared page told its own story.

Then there were your playlists. He still couldn’t figure them out. You’d go from old-school classics like Fleetwood Mac or The Rolling Stones, then switch it up with some indie band no one had ever heard of. But it all fit you somehow—just a little bit all over the place, in the best way possible.

And sunsets. God, you could never resist a good sunset. Every time the sky turned even a hint of pink or gold, you were there, snapping pictures on your phone like it was your personal little piece of magic.

Rafe couldn’t explain it, but every time you were around, everything just felt easier. Like the mess in his head quieted down. And that scared him because it wasn’t supposed to be like that. Not for him.

It was like his brain had its own playlist, except instead of music, it was a loop of all the things you liked. It kinda freaked him out, how much space you were taking up in there. You didn’t even know, did you? How you had him twisted up like this. How you made the world around him feel like it wasn’t gonna fall apart any second. He wasn’t used to that.

He watched you flick the rod out again, more confident this time, and he couldn’t help but admire how determined you were. That’s another thing he loved—how you never gave up on stuff. You’d try something a hundred times until you got it right. Like the way you insisted on learning how to skate last month, even though you kept falling. You’d get back up every time, laughing like it didn’t even faze you. He liked that about you—how nothing seemed to scare you.

And then there was your laugh. That one killed him every time. It wasn’t just the sound of it; it was the way your whole face lit up when you laughed, like the world didn’t have a single problem. Like, for those few seconds, nothing could touch you.

He realized he’d been staring at you for way too long when you looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” you asked, the corner of your mouth twitching into a little smirk.

Rafe blinked, shaking his head like he could shake the thoughts loose. “Nothin’”, he mumbled, feeling his face heat up again. 

Smooth, real smooth, he thought.

And then there was the way you loved the water.

Always dragging him down to the lake or the beach, talking about how the sound of waves crashing made everything else seem far away.

He never told you this, but he thought it was funny how you loved the water so much but were terrified of deep water.

You’d cling to him when you were in over your head, and yeah, he liked that way more than he probably should’ve.

He kept running through all the little things, trying to figure out when it happened—when he started catching feelings for you. When you shoved the food in his face? Offered him a warm shower and a bed? Was it when you forced him to watch that old movie, the one where you kept quoting all the lines before they happened? 

“Stop ogling me.”

Rafe's heart did that weird thing again, that stuttering, fluttering mess in his chest as you grinned at him, tossing that line out like you weren’t absolutely wrecking him from the inside.

He tried to act like he hadn’t been caught staring.

Again.

"Wasn't ogling," he muttered, feeling his face heat up. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking out over the water like he wasn’t completely whipped. "Just thinkin’."

You shot him a side-eye, clearly not buying it. “Yeah? About what?”

You, he thought. Always you. 

“Just... life," he mumbled.

What was he supposed to say? That he’d been sitting here mentally cataloging all your favorite things like some lovesick idiot? That every time you smiled at him, it felt like the ground wasn’t so shaky anymore? He couldn’t just say that.

But he was starting to feel like he had to. Like it was gonna burst out of him if he didn’t tell you soon. You’d been messing with his head for months now—it was driving him insane.

"Y’know," he started, swallowing hard, not even sure how to say it, "I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah? And what’s that?"

He scratched the back of his neck, feeling way too hot under that cool evening air. His voice came out rougher than he meant. "You. Us."

You froze for a second, that playful smile slipping just a little, but you didn’t say anything. You just waited. Always so patient just for him.

Rafe let out a shaky breath, rubbing the back of his neck like it could distract him from the fact that his heart was about to pound out of his chest.

"I—I like you, okay? I like you a lot." He looked down at his boots, then back at you, eyes searching your face for any sign of what you were thinking. "I know I’m not the best with... y’know, words and feelings and all that, but you—you’re different."

He stepped closer, the dock creaking under his boots, and he reached out, gently taking your hand. "You make all the noise in my head stop. I don’t know how to explain it, but when I’m with you... it’s just easier. Everything’s easier."

You blinked, your eyes wide, like you weren’t expecting that.

"M’ not good at this stuff," Rafe continued, his voice soft now, almost nervous. "But I wanna be better. For you. I wanna be the guy who makes you feel good, who makes you happy."

He hesitated, feeling like he was about to jump off a cliff. But he had to ask. He had to know.

"Will you—" he cleared his throat, his grip tightening just slightly on your hand. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

He wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable like this, like he was putting his heart out there and hoping you wouldn’t crush it. But for once, he didn’t care. He needed you to know how he felt, even if he was rough around the edges and still figuring it all out.

You looked at him for what felt like forever, and then, slowly, a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips. 

You threw yourself at him, jumping into his arms with this burst of energy that caught him completely off guard. He stumbled back a step, barely catching you, his arms wrapping around your waist as you clung to him. Your face was buried in his neck, and that’s when he felt it—the dampness.

Hold on. Were you crying?

“Woah, baby,” he stammered, holding you tighter, but his heart started racing for a whole different reason now. “Did I—did I make you cry? Shit, did I mess this up already? I swear, I didn’t mean to freak you out or nothin’. I just—” He cut himself off, his words coming out fast and panicked. “I fuck up everything, don’t I?”

You pulled back just enough for him to see your face, and there were tears streaming down your cheeks, but you were smiling. Laughing, even, like he was being ridiculous, which only confused him more.

“No, no, oh my god,” you said, wiping at your cheeks, sniffling through your smile. “It’s—it’s happy tears, you dumbass.”

Rafe blinked, his brain not quite catching up with what you said. “Happy tears?” He looked at you like you’d just told him the sky was purple. “You’re cryin’ ‘cause you’re happy?”

You nodded, laughing as you brushed the tears away. “Yes, Rafe. I’m crying ‘cause I’m happy.”

Relief washed over him like a wave, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Oh.” He paused, then broke into this shy, crooked grin. “Okay. Good. ‘Cause for a second, I thought I messed up.”

You laughed again, your arms still around his neck as you leaned in closer.

“You didn’t mess up, not even a little.” Your voice was softer now, and you looked at him like he hung the moon or something. “You made me really, really happy.”

He never thought he’d be the guy to make someone happy, let alone you. He lifted his hand, gently brushing a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the last of your tears. 

“Didn’t know I had it in me,” he muttered, his voice low, almost shy.

“Well, you do,” you whispered, and before he could overthink it, you leaned in and kissed him—soft and sweet.

When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he couldn’t help but smile. “I guess I’ll just have to make you cry like this more often, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the way you looked at him, like he was more than just some rough-around-the-edges Pogue. His grin didn’t leave his face as he watched you wipe at the last of your happy tears, still a little stunned that he of all people had managed to make you feel like that. 

You were looking at him, a teasing glint in your eyes, but before you could even start talking again, he pulled you in closer, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Rafe,” you giggled, your voice muffled against his mouth. “Let me—”

“Nope,” he mumbled, cutting you off with another kiss, this one lingering a little longer. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer, and you felt his smile against your lips. “Not done kissin’ you yet.”

You let out a breathy laugh, trying to speak between the kisses. “Rafe, seriously—”

But he wasn’t having it. He kissed you again, deeper this time, his lips soft but insistent, and you practically melted into him.

“Don’t care,” he muttered, his voice low and raspy against your mouth. “Got a lot of kissin’ to make up for.”

You tried to playfully shove him, but he just grinned and kissed you harder, not giving you a chance to get another word in. Every time you tried to pull back to say something, he’d tilt his head, his lips capturing yours before you could even think.

“You,” you tried again, your voice breathless between the stolen kisses, but he just chuckled, his hand slipping into your hair, tilting your head back slightly so he could kiss you deeper, “Kiss me every day.”

“Uh-uh,” he muttered, his lips trailing down to your jaw, making your head spin. “I don’t care.”

Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, your breath hitching as he kissed along your neck.

“You’re impossible,” you whispered, but your voice was softer now, less of a protest and more like you were completely caught up in the moment.

He pulled back just an inch, looking down at you with that lazy, crooked grin that made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he teased, his forehead resting against yours.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the smile tugging at your lips. 

“Maybe,” you said, pretending to play it cool. “But you still won’t let me talk.”

Rafe brushed his thumb along your jaw, his eyes tracing over your face like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

“Sorry, baby,” he drawled, clearly not sorry at all. “But I’m tryin’ to make up for lost time here.”

When he finally pulled back, just enough to look at you again, his eyes were softer, more serious this time. “I mean it though,” he murmured, his voice low. “I’m real glad you’re mine.”

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling. “I’m glad too, Rafe,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against the back of his neck.

He grinned, leaning down to kiss you again, but this time, you were ready. You pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him before his lips could reach yours. “Ah-ah,” you teased, a smirk on your face. “Not done talking yet.”

Rafe groaned, but the smile never left his face. “Fine, fine,” he muttered, his hands still resting on your waist. “Get your words out. I’ll give you, like, ten seconds.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes again. “You’re such a dumbass,” you said fondly, shaking your head.

“Yeah,” he agreed, leaning down just enough so his lips brushed against yours again, barely a whisper. “But I’m your dumbass now.”

“Hold on,” he nearly whined, pushing his forehead against yours with exaggerated impatience. “Does that mean you’ll accept the phone now? Actually, I was gonna say—since you’re so insistent on this whole ‘no phone’ thing—you should just take it.”

Rafe’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, you want me to take it? For real?”

You crossed your arms, giving him a look that said, "don’t push it." “Yeah, obviously.”

“But—"

You shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the truth was written all over your face. “Please? It would make me worry less.”

He stood there for a second, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he was still mulling it over, but then he let out a breath, stepping closer to you.

“Fine,” he said, his voice softer this time. “I’ll take it. But only ‘cause you asked so damn sweet.”

Taking the stupid phone meant accepting that you cared, that you wanted him in your life in more ways than just this. And while it scared him, it also made something bloom in his chest, something unfamiliar but good.

He found himself staring at the screen like it was some kind of foreign object.

“Now you have no excuse not to text me back,” you teased, nudging him gently with your shoulder.

His face softened as he glanced at you. “Guess I don’t.”

You gave him a playful shove, and he caught your wrist, pulling you close again before you could get too far. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he rested his chin on the top of your head, breathing you in.

For a moment, the world felt still. Peaceful.

But then, like a cruel twist of fate, he heard a voice—one that made his blood run cold and his heart sink. He turned his head, and there she was. His mom, if he could call her that. Her face was gaunt, lined with the weariness of someone who’d been through too much, but that didn’t make it any easier to see her.

“What the hell?” he muttered, more to himself than to you. He felt the protective instinct flare up, not just for himself but for you, too. He didn’t want her anywhere near you. Not now. Not ever.

She ruined everything she touched.

“I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you,” she said, her voice cracking with a mix of desperation and anger. “I need to talk to you.”

His jaw tightened. “What do you want, mom?”

Her eyes softened for a split second before that familiar hardness came back. “Come back, okay? I didn’t mean to—”

“Come back?” he let out a breathy sarcastic laugh, “You serious?’ Nah, not after you kicked me out, not after all the shit I had to deal with. You got no right to come here and act like you care now.”

Her face twisted in pain, and for a moment, he saw the woman he used to know when he was a kid. But it was quickly gone. “You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you? You think you’ve got it all figured out?”

He didn’t want to scare you off.

“Aww hell,” Rafe muttered, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to keep the anger from takin' over. His hand tightened on your waist, like he needed to feel you there, grounding him. “I’m not doin' this with you. Not here. Not now.”

You stayed quiet, your fingers lightly brushing his arm, feeling the tension building' in him. He glanced at you, and for a second, you could see the rage contained in him, he was trying' to hold it back for your sake.

“Rafe, I didn’t have a choice. You don’t understand what it’s like—”

“I don’t understand?” he barked, his voice rough, like he was barely holding’ it together. “Nah, you don’t get it. You never did.” He took a step back, almost like he needed to put space between himself and her poison. “M’ gonna stand here and let you guilt-trip me. You threw me out like I was trash.”

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off before she could get another word in. “I got someone now. Someone who gives a damn 'bout me. And I’m not lettin’ you mess that up.”

His mom’s eyes flicked to you, and there was this flash of something’—jealousy, regret, maybe both.

She huffed, her shoulders dropping’. “I didn’t come here to fight with you, Rafe. I just... I need help. I don’t got nobody left.” Her voice cracked, and for a second, it almost sounded real.

But Rafe wasn’t buying it. He was done being manipulated. He was tired of her games, she was sick and she needed help, and if she didn’t want to be helped, there was nothing he could do for her. 

“Yeah, well, I’m fresh outta help,” he said coldly, then turned back to you, his hand reaching for yours, like he was trying' to remind himself that he was better off now.

A familiar figure stepped out from behind her beated up car—her boyfriend, fucking Tony. His gut twisted the second he saw him with same smug look plastered across his face, strutted toward them like he owned the place.

"Well, ain't this a cute little reunion," Tony sneered, his eyes lingering on you for just a second too long. Rafe's grip on your hand tightened painfully, and you felt the muscles in his arm tense like he was ready to snap.

Tony’s attention slid back to him, but not before taking another slow look at you. “You picked yourself up a pretty little thing, huh?” He licked his lips, and Rafe's vision tunneled.

In that instant, everything around him went quiet.

The world could have been on fire, but all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart. The red-hot rage that he'd been holding in for so long, the anger he tried to keep locked down, was hanging on the edge. Every part of him screamed to beat the living shit out of him, to make him regret every second he spent breathing the same air as you.

“Watch your goddamn mouth,” Rafe growled through gritted teeth, like he was seconds away from losing control. “Look at her like that again, and I swear to fucking God, I’ll make sure you can’t look at anything ever again.”

You squeezed his hand, letting him know you were there, that he didn’t have to do this alone. His mom stood there, not standing up for either of them as usual, like she was waiting for him to change his mind, but when he didn’t, she shook her head and walked away, mumbling’ something' under her breath. She didn’t even put up a fight for him, how typical.

They’d probably run out of money to feed off. 

Tony raised his hands, feigning innocence, but the smirk never left his face. “Easy there, kid. I’m just sayin’. No need to get all riled up.”

Rafe took a step forward, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. You could feel his emotions radiating off him in waves, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts as he fought to keep himself in check. You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath your fingers.

"Rafe, let it go," you whispered, trying to pull him back before things went too far. But it was like he couldn’t hear you anymore.

Tony chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the way he was getting under his skin. “Guess the apple don’t fall too far from the tree, huh? Just like your momma—quick to anger, quick to screw things up. Look at you, following in her footsteps.”

“You have five seconds to walk away before I call the police,” You all but announced.

“You think you’re some big man now, huh?” Tony still taunted, ignoring you, his voice dripping with condescension. “Got a pretty girl on your arm, a fresh start, but you’re still the same angry little boy. You ain't gonna change—”

You didn’t even let him finish. Your hand was already in your pocket, pulling out your phone.

You weren’t going to let this escalate.

"Enough," you snapped firmly, holding up your phone so both Tony and Rafe could see it. You turned your back slightly to Rafe, giving him a moment to breathe and calm down as you dialed the number.

Tony’s cocky smirk dropped for a split second when he realized what you were doing. “Oh, what, calling for backup?” he sneered, but you could tell he wasn’t as confident as he had been.

“No, I’m calling the police. My dad’s a well-known attorney. He knows exactly how to deal with people like you.”

Rafe hadn't even realized what you were doing at first.

You didn’t take your eyes off Tony as you raised the phone to your ear. “Hi, yes, I’d like to report an incident,” you began, your tone professional, all business. “There’s a man harassing us, and he’s trespassing on private property. We’re at the docks, near the edge of Seabrook Avenue.”

Tony’s face turned a shade paler, his eyes darting between you and Rafe. “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute—let’s not do anything rash here,” he stammered, clearly realizing that the game had changed. The cocky attitude evaporated in the face of actual consequences, “I’ll leave.”

“Then start walking,” You threatened, phone still in your ear.

“All right, all right,” Tony muttered, “No need to get the cops involved. I’m leavin’.”

He cast one last glare at Rafe, then turned on his heel, stalking back toward the car.

You kept the phone to your ear, your voice low and professional as you continued speaking to the operator, making sure Tony didn’t have any second thoughts. His mom gave Rafe one last, but still said nothing. She followed Tony back to the car, and within moments, they were driving off, disappearing down the road.

As soon as they were out of sight, you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. You hung up the phone, turning back to Rafe, who was still standing there, staring at the empty spot where the car had been. His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight, but there was this brokenness in his eyes that made you want to bawl your eyes out.

You stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

 “Hey,” you whispered, your voice soft now, “They’re gone.”

Rafe let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying' to shake off the whole encounter.

“Sorry 'bout that,” he muttered, his voice a little hoarse. “I didn’t mean for all that to happen. Not in front of you.”

You shook your head, “You don’t have to apologize. I’m here for you, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms again, holding' you like you were the only good thing in his world. “Thanks for not running,” he muttered into your hair, “Most people would’ve bailed by now.”

You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest. “I’m not most people, Rafe.”

“Clearly. You’re better.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, and even with all the crap that had just gone down, you could see he was startin’ to relax a little. “You’re stuck with me now,” you teased lightly, tryin' to lift the mood. “No more excuses, remember?”

How did you have him under your spell in such a short amount of time? He felt delirious.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling his heartbeat still thudding hard beneath your fingers.

“Are you really okay?”

For a second, he didn’t answer, just stared down at you, like he was trying’ to figure out how much to let you in. His jaw tightened, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair again, like he was still trying’ to shake off the whole encounter with his mom.

“I-I don’t know,” he muttered finally, his voice low, rough. “I mean… I’m used to her being’ like this, y’know? It isn’t nothing new.” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “But it still messes me up every time.”

You reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes, your fingers lingering on his cheek. “You don’t have to act like it’s not a big deal. It’s okay to not be okay.”

His eyes flicked back to yours, and for a moment, the walls he kept up so tight seemed to crack a little. He swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbin’, like he was trying to push down all the emotions that were building up.

“I just… I hate that she still gets to me,” he admitted quietly, “After everything, I should be able to just… forget about her. But I can’t.”

You tightened your grip on his hand, letting him know you weren’t goin’ anywhere.

“You’re not weak for feelin’ like that,” you said gently. “She’s your mom, Rafe. It’s natural to want her to care, even after all she’s done.”

He closed his eyes for a second, takin' in your words, like he was tryin’ to let them sink in. When he opened them again, they were softer, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen them.

“I don’t know how you do it,” he said, his voice low, almost like he was talking’ more to himself than to you. 

You felt him tense up under your touch, and it hit you—he was scared. He’d already cried once, already let you see that part of him that he usually kept locked up tight. Now, he was trying to pull it together, to show you he was strong, that he wasn’t some broken kid. But deep down, you knew he was still hurting, still carrying’ all that pain his mom dumped on him.

“Because I see you. Not the mess, not the baggage. Just you.”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes flicking’ away again, like he couldn’t handle looking at you right now. “I don’t want you feeling’ like you gotta fix me or something’. I’m not a charity case.”

“You already know how I feel about you saying that.”

For a second, it looked like he might shut down again, like he was going to retreat behind that hard shell of his. But then, he sighed, shoulders sagging a little as he let some of that defensiveness go.

“I just don’t wanna be that guy,” he muttered, almost to himself. “The one who’s always leanin' on someone, cryin' about his problems. I already did that once, and…”

“And what?” you asked, “You think it made me see you any different?”

 “You didn’t see me like some... weak-ass loser? Bein’ all emotional and shit?”

You shook your head slowly, holding his gaze. “No, Rafe. I saw someone who’s been through hell and still manages to keep going. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you strong.”

He was quiet for a moment, takin’ in your words, his brow furrowing’ like he didn’t quite know what to do with them. Then, finally, he let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing' just a little. “You make it so hard for me to push you away.”

You raised an unimpressed brow, “Would you like to push your girlfriend away? Because I can walk—"

“Kidding,” He protested, pulling you back the moment you attempt to move, “Jesus Christ. Can’t even make a joke. You’re not going anywhere,” he muttered, like a prayer “Not now. Not ever.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in his words made you smile against his chest. “Oh yeah?” you teased. “That a promise?”

He chuckled, his hand stroking your back in slow, calming circles. “Damn right it is,” he whispered, his voice low, almost like a vow. “I don’t care what happens, I’m not letting you go. You’re stuck with me now.”