#topper takes a trip

[poppingmary]

Billie Burke and Verree Teasdale in “Topper Takes a Trip” - 1938

[letterboxd-loggd]

Topper Takes a Trip (1938) Norman Z. McLeod

May 13th 2023

[rafesangelita]

♡ first encounter with sheriff!rafe

warnings: implied age gap (a pretty big one pls scroll if it’s not your thing), arguing, slut shaming, descriptions of mild injuries, excessive use of force, tending to wounds, flirty banter, rafe defends you, very slight fluff, mild humor, kissing

a/n: read more fics with sheriff!rafe here <3

wc: 2.1k

rafe couldn’t wait to get home already. after a long day of bullshit patrolling and knocking out a stack of paperwork as high as his waist, all he could think about was cracking open a cold beer and searing a steak for dinner while he watched football highlights on his poor excuse of a tv. he lived a relatively quiet life. having been the head deputy of his department for the last decade, everyone in town knew who he was and vice versa.

the town was so small, there really wasn’t any room for crime to actually take place. the line never rang for anything else except a few noise complaints, petty theft, and drunken fights breaking out at the local bar. there was nothing profoundly exciting about his job, or life for that matter; until one fated night sheriff thornton was dragging you into the station. you were cussing at topper, calling him every name in the book as he basically threw you into a holding cell.

you yelped, glaring at topper from under your lashes. “fuck you! you have the dumbest haircut i’ve ever seen, asshole!” rafe lifted his head once he heard the commotion, his eyes finding you in an instant. topper snorted, leaning down so he was in your face. “yeah? well you’re the one in high heels and knee high socks with your tits hanging out, you’re the sluttiest thing i’ve seen since i first got my hands on a playboy magazine.” he scoffed, walking off before you could rebuttal.

rafe heard every single word that topper told you, his chest growing hot as he shook his head. although he didn’t know what you were arrested for, he didn’t think anyone, let alone topper, had the right to tell you any of those things. as soon as topper was out of sight, rafe watched the way you looked down at your lap, a small pout forming on your lips as you felt exposed. you wore a mini skirt and tube top thinking you’d be spending your night at a party, not in a fucking sheriff station.

your arms were scratched up from when topper had you pinned down in the rubble just outside of the abandoned house where jj maybank’s kegger took place. he had a knee pressing down into your back and you still manged to slip out from under him, his grip on your shirt finally giving him the opportunity to cuff your wrists. you scanned the room, everyone’s eyes practically glued to your nearly naked form. rafe included.

he watched you shudder, cursing under his breath once he realized he couldn’t stand to look at you for another second without doing something. “thornton.” rafe got up from his seat, motioning towards his office. “what is she in here for?” topper glanced over at you, a laugh falling from his lips. “resisting arrest, and assault to a police officer.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion as he gave topper a once over. “assault on an officer? you look fine to me.”

“oh, not me, ‘kelce is the one with the icepack on his cheek.” rafe looked past the sheriff in front of him, an amused smile gracing his lips once he saw kelce walk out of the back with a bag full of ice. “send her in here.” was all he said before taking a seat behind his desk. rafe gritted his teeth when he saw the way topper yanked you up like rag doll, the force making you trip over your feet. you pulled away from topper the second you got into rafe’s office, the man in front of you clenching his fists at his sides. “shut the door.”

you stood there until you heard the click of the lock, your cheeks heating once you saw rafe’s eyes raking down your figure. “what happened to your arms?” he walked over and closed the blinds before taking the master key from his belt loop. “ask sheriff thornton.” you scoffed. rafe grumbled something under his breath before he moved the chair out in the corner of the room for you to sit. “if i uncuff you are you going to slug me like poor kelce out there?”

the corner of rafe’s lips twitched when he heard your laugh, the sound making something stir in his chest. “if you don’t give me shit about my outfit, no.” rafe nodded, deciding you were pretty much harmless against him if you decided to act out again. “speaking of that..” rafe unlocked the cuffs, stepping away from you so he could grab the large leather jacket that hung on the back of his chair. “i’m gonna turn around so you could fix yourself up a little bit.”

you blinked, looking around even though you two were concealed from everyone’s view. pulling up the neck line of your top, you quickly fixed your skirt so the soft curves of your ass weren’t peeking out from under the hem anymore. “you done?” you hummed, accepting the comically large jacket he draped over your shoulders. “i’m gonna ask you a few questions, you alright with that?” you stayed silent, only nodding as he took out a notepad and pen.

“do you have any kind of identification on you? a state id, maybe a driver’s license?” rafe’s voice was rather calm, a stark contrast to the two idiots who yelled at you the whole ride over here. “i did, but i dropped my purse and they didn’t let me get it back. i think my best friend has it right now.” rafe scribbled down ‘dumb and dumber’ on his piece of paper, officially adding them to his shit list. “okay then, can i get your full name please?”

you obliged, taking off your heels and your socks in the process. rafe didn’t bat an eye when his gaze trailed down your bare legs. however, he froze once he heard your last name. there was only one person with that name, and him and that person go way, way back. “was your dad a football star in highschool?” you rolled your eyes at the reminder. “ugh, yes, that’s all he ever talks about.. his ‘golden days’” you stood up, crossing your arms over your chest as you inspected all the certificates and awards framed on the walls.

“oh, man, me and him played together! i always thought he would go off to university or something, he was just amazing out on that field.” rafe marveled, his mind flooding with old memories of celebrating championships and chugging beers at a random ranch parties. “nope. he met my mommy, fell in love, and i was here in no time.” rafe hummed, inspecting you closely. “so how old are you, y/n?” you swallowed thickly, sparing him a glance. “old enough.”

“old enough to drink?” he shot back, making you groan. “if you’re going to charge me and call my dad then just do it, i don’t need the lecture.” you sat down again, this time wincing when your elbows hit the arm rest of the chair. rafe hated how much his partners roughed you up, he knew it wasn’t right. sighing through his nose, rafe pulled out his first aid kit before motioning you to come over. “take a seat right here.” he patted the empty spot on the hardwood of his desk, helping you climb up before sitting between your thighs.

despite the position being really compromising, you didn’t feel unsafe having him this close. “i’m not going to charge you, and i don’t want you to get in trouble with your old man, so i’m gonna propose a deal and whether you decide to take it or not, that’ll determine how this night ends.” he opened up an alcohol wipe before taking your arm and gliding the small towelette over your wounded skin. “i’m listening..” you trailed off, studying his facial features.

“you take a vow; right here, right now, that you’ll never leave the house again in this skirt and i’ll also drop the assault charge against my officer.” you laughed, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you spread your thighs further apart. rafe’s jaw clenched, his resolve and restraint holding on by a thread. “how come? you don’t like it?” you feigned a sad expression, leaning back on your hands. rafe cursed when the material of your red, lacey thong peeked out, his eyes flickering up to meet your own.

“no, i like it a lot, actually,” he swallowed thickly, “which is exactly why it’s not a good idea to wear it.” your breath shuddered when you felt his hand softly skim your flesh. “okay, deal—” there was a knock at the door, both you and rafe pulling away from each other as if you two were doing something you weren’t supposed to, and in a way you guessed you were. you scrambled to the chair as rafe cleared his throat awkwardly. “yes?” he opened the door, in walking kelce as he threw daggers at you.

“i got the paperwork for this one to be processed. ‘let this be a learning experience that you can’t just punch cops in the face.” he threw down the hefty stack of papers, a smile playing on your lips as rafe grabbed your socks and heels from the floor. “well, you have to be quicker than that next time. i’m escorting her home.” kelce reeled back, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “what?!” rafe rose a hand before leading you out of the room by the small of your back.

“if you and thornton ever do so much as raise your voice or lay an ungentle hand on her again, you’ll both be suspended without pay. understood?” kelce narrowed his gaze, meeting your smug grin before giving rafe a curt nod. “yes, sir.” you winked at him before rafe walked you outside and opened the door to his cruiser. without a word, rafe turned on his radio and rolled the windows down before driving to the address you gave him.

so there you were, your feet in your new favorite sheriff’s lap, the wind blowing wildly through your hair as his favorite track blasted through the speakers. you felt something in you switch when you studied his side profile. sheriff cameron was all man. small waist, broad shoulders, deliciously huge biceps, he was it. instinctively, you rubbed your heel over his groin, his jaw clenching as he stopped you, wrapping a rough hand around your ankle.

“i have no ulterior motives with you. don’t feel inclined.” you smiled. of course he didn’t. just as you were going to keep up your ministrations, you saw your house coming up in the distance, your heart sinking at the sight. you didn’t want to go home yet. “well, this is you.” he sighed, rolling up just out front. rolling your eyes, you sat up straight, crossing your arms over your chest. “thank you.” rafe looked over at you, his eyes scanning over your form.

“you’re welcome.” god, the air was thick with tension. “so, uhm—” you cut him off, pressing a kiss to his lips before you could think, the coarse hair of his mustache tickling your nose. rafe was stunned, his grip tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. you tasted like cherries that were picked in the summertime, a groan rumbling from his chest before he gave in, pulling you from the passenger seat and onto his lap.

laying your hands flat on his chest, you leaned back slightly, allowing him to plant his large palms in the curves of your hips. both of you jumped when the honk sounded, a laugh bursting from your throat when you saw his eyes grow wide. “you’re gonna get us in trouble!” he scolded, basically tossing you back in the seat next to him. you were full on giggling now, pointing a red painted fingernail at him. “look at your face!” you tossed your head back, the tips of his ears flustered with a deep shade of pink.

“your old man can wake up and come out here!” he whispered. “and do what? call the cops?” he stared at you for a moment, resisting the urge to break out into a smile. deciding you better head upstairs before your father gets up to check on the ruckus outside, you hooked your heels between your fingers, adjusting the huge jacket that currently swallowed your frame. “i wanna see you again.” you blurted out, the porch light flickering on. “i do too,” rafe agreed, “but i don’t know when i can—”

you waved him off, running up the porch stairs before your father could come outside. “i have your jacket, so it looks like we have to meet up again anyways!” rafe caught your drift, wasting no time in peeling off onto the dirt road, his heart pounding with adrenaline. what the hell just happened? an hour ago he was bored out of his mind, wanting nothing more than to get home, and now he couldn’t wait for it to be the next day so he could get you back in his car.

[starfilmz]

FEMININE URGE | a rafe cameron fic.

— when a pogue takes a liking towards a certain kook. named it “feminine urge” because everything she’ll do here comes from that.

a/n: no update for thoroughfare and famous!rafe today so here’s something. half text half smau which is actually pretty fun to do. (not proofread)

01 | 02 | 03

you couldn’t help but giggle at sarah’s reply on your tweet but chose to close your phone as you placed it inside the pockets of your apron. as much as you hated to admit it, jj was right. adding topper to your private instagram was a bad decision, and you’ve already removed him after seeing his comment on your latest post—though you couldn’t really blame him; if it were any of your friends who said it, you would’ve accepted.

topper was a nice guy; at least you assumed he was after he gave you a fifty dollar tip last week, but you weren’t shocked when he used it as some sort of leverage to get your socials. he had his chance, and he blew it up, so it’s his own fault.

you hummed as you cleaned the sticky countertop of the bar you’re working at. you're one of the few bartenders left in the place, the last one’s desperate to stay anyway. Sip N’ Dine paid well, which is why you chose to take the job, but you weren’t aware at the time the whole reason for their generosity was because kooks like topper and his friends raided the place almost every party they host. you met topper at one of his, another reason why you complied on his request to get to know you.

the night was still young, but luckily for you and the rest of your coworkers, no kooks seemed to have any interest in partying tonight. so, you took your sweet time organizing everything around you, unaware of the new presence behind your counter.

it was only when you heard a knock against it did you turn around. you almost tripped on your own two feet when you saw who it was.

“open a tab for me, will you?” rafe cameron said, sliding the card against the table, keeping his eyes on you—specifically your slightly unbuttoned uniform, revealing the layers of necklaces you wore. and maybe a bit of your tits.

with a swallow of nothing, you gave him your usual costume service smile as you went up to your station. “alright, what can i start you with?” you asked as you grabbed for his card, keeping it under the counter in a shelf where most of the cards are kept.

“your name would be nice, just so i know who to call,” he smiled, though it was closer to a smirk as it doesn’t exactly reach his eyes.

looks like someone had a bad day.

“most people call me ‘bartender’ since, y’know, i’m the only one here,” you glanced around between the two of you, raising an eyebrow at him. was this your attempt at flirting? yes, unfortunately. “but if you’re dying to know, my name’s y/n.”

“was i that obvious?” rafe replied with the same tone, and you might just throw yourself at him if you didn’t have an ounce of shame left in your body. “alright, y/n, i’ll have a miller lite first.”

“starting of easy, i see,” you commented almost instinctively, as it was encouraged by your boss to ‘challenge’ your customers so they’d buy more. “one miller lite, comin’ right up.”

you grabbed a pint glass from behind you, as well as one of your many miller lites on the shelves, placing it down in front of rafe as you poured the alcoholic drink in.

“holler if you need anything else.” you thought it was best to keep your distance before it became too obvious how nervous you were from his piercing gaze. you took this opportunity to entertain under customers arriving.

a few minutes have passed, and you’re already dealing with a bunch of drunks trying to take you home, though they weren’t the ones making you uncomfortable.

rafe, from the time he arrived, only called for you to refill his cup. nothing more, nothing less. you also know whenever someone’s staring at you from a mile away, so it wasn’t hard to realize rafe’s still on you this whole time.

“y/n?” he called, holding on to the bottom of his empty pint glass. just as you served two more shots for a customer, you went back to him with a smile, already grabbing for the miller lite.

“you don’t have to get that,” he said from behind you, making you turn around as he took a deep breath. “i’m closing my tab.”

“right, okay,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed his card. “enjoyed your beer?”

you wondered why you even attempted to make casual conversation as you swiped his card, but it was rafe cameron for fuck’s sake. you were creeped out by his constant staring, sure, but you couldn’t help but like the attention he’s giving you.

“i did, thank you,” he hummed as you handed his card back to him, your hands brushing against his calloused ones. “it helped me while i think of why topper, the loudest guy i know, would swear to secrecy just for a pogue.”

you physically froze as he smirked at you, standing up from his seat. “honestly, i was a bit weirded out by the comments, but now that i’m looking at you,” he tiled his head, scoffing out a grin. “maybe i’ll make an exception.”

with that, he left, leaving one hundred dollars under his glass.

“oh, shit.”

[jjscrybaby]

prompt: ‘someone tying up your seatbelt for you’ from @scealaiscoite

rafe cameron x fem!reader | fluff | (bsf!rafe, bsf!reader, drinking, both of them are complete simps, kelce & top.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

One foot in front of the other. You looked down at your kitten heels, stumbling over yourself as you tried to get from the kitchen to the backyard. You hadn’t seen any of your friends for at least an hour, too busy getting yourself too drunk to even remember they existed.

That’s probably why you squealed in excitement as Kelce began to walk towards the back door just as you were walking out. “Kelce!” You beamed, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

“Hey— Jesus, you smell like a brewery,” he joked, arm wrapping around your shoulders. “C’mon, we’ve been lookin’ all over for you.”

Your friend led you to the seating area in the garden, a variety of Kook’s sat around smoking cigarettes but your eyes were only focused on one. The moment Rafe saw you under Kelce’s arm you swore you could see the sigh of relief, he stood up and rushed over to the pair of you.

“Where the fuck you been?” He exclaimed, taking your stumbling-self from Kelce’s arm to wrap his around your waist. Your head rested against his shoulder, a hazy giggle leaving your lips.

“Partying,” you murmured, looking up at him with a lovesick smile.

“Jesus,” Kelce muttered, face scrunching up in disgust. He’d be sure to tell Topper about his little moment; he’s hellbent on winning the bet that you’ll be the first to admit your feelings for Rafe.

“Get her some water,” Rafe demanded, barely looking at the other boy as he spun on his heel and pulled you along with him back to the seats.

There was only space for one, but you were too drunk to even think it was odd for him to pull you into his lap. There was a fireplace in the middle, warming you up. Your arm wrapped around his shoulders, playing with the ends of his hair as you tried to pay attention to the conversation Topper and Rafe were having.

“Here you go, madam,” Kelce snorted, handing over a red-solo cup filled to the brim with tap water. You accepted it happily, guzzling it down as the dehydration hit you.

“Alright— you’re gettin’ it all over me,” Rafe complained, holding the bottom of the cup to stop you from spilling anymore.

“I’m thirsty,” you argued, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Not surprised. How many of them cocktails you had tonight, huh?” He teased, taking the cup from your hold to put on the stone floor.

“So many,” you giggled, laying your head back on his shoulder.

“Mhm,” he hummed, rubbing your back gently before turning back to Topper, who had a similar expression on his face to Kelce; disgust.

There are certain rules to being best friends with three boys, and one of them should be not falling in love with any of them. You couldn’t help yourself, not with the way Rafe took care of you, or the way he looked at you, not to mention how handsome he really is.

You stared at the side of his face, memorising every detail to his pretty face. He noticed, but he knew if he brought it up to tease you you’d probably burst into tears. So, he minded his own business and let you have your fun of running your finger over his jawline.

Only another half an hour went by before Rafe was patting your thigh. “Ready to go, babe?”

“No,” you whined, shaking your head. “I don’t want to go yet. Only been here, like, ten minutes!”

“That’s just not true,” Topper muttered. Rafe shot him a glare, waving him off to silently tell him to go round up Kelce.

Rafe turned back to your pouting-self, an amused huff leaving his mouth. He prodded at your pouty lip. “Non of that. This shit’s borin’, you can’t really be enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” you replied, glaring at him; in his eyes you looked like an angry puppy.

“Well… would you rather stay here, or come back to Tannyhill and order a pizza?” He asked, tilting his head at you. You were tripping over yourself to get off his lap within seconds. “‘Atta girl.”

Your arm was linked through his as the two of you walked through the house, you saying goodbye to everyone and Rafe huffing and puffing from next to you. It took ten minutes to even get out of the house, by the time you did he was sighing in utter relief.

“The fuck took so long?” Kelce complained, him and Topper leaning against the side of Rafe’s truck.

“She wanted to say goodbye to everyone, and then to all the animals,” Rafe grumbled.

“There weren’t any animals,” Topper replied, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“There was a gold fish.”

As Rafe unlocked the truck, Kelce and Topper got in the back; they already knew that the passenger seat was reserved for you. Rafe opened the door and helped you sit down, watching for a moment as you just stared up at him.

“Seatbelt,” he stated, waiting to see you put it on.

You reached for it, but your fingers were numb and you could barely drag it over yourself. You tried again, this time letting out a whine of irritation that it wasn’t going where you wanted.

“You’re a mess,” Rafe muttered, but the lazy smile on his face told you that he didn’t mean it. He grabbed the seatbelt and reached over you, clicking it into place. “There we go.”

“Thanks, Rafey,” you grinned, he smiled back, kissing your forehead before closing the door.

“God,” Kelce groaned. “I’m sick of the pining. We need to find new friends.”

“Agreed,” Topper muttered as Rafe got in the truck.

“Agreed on what?” He asked, looking back at them.

“That you can just drop us back home. We won’t interrupt your date night,” Kelce responded, a smirk on his lips.

He expected instant carnage, every time him or Topper made a ‘joke’ that they didn’t want to be around the two of you because they were third wheeling you’d throw a fit. It was mainly from the embarrassment that they were right and exposing you in front of Rafe. However, this time there was no response from you.

“That’s probably for the best,” Rafe shrugged, starting up the engine as he pulled his own seatbelt on.

“Damn it,” Kelce sighed. There was a chance he wasn’t going to win this bet; because Topper was certain it would be Rafe that would reveal his feelings first.

With you sat in his passenger seat, looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars, there’s a chance he was right. Rafe’s a sucker for you, and there’s nothing he likes more than when you look at him like that.

[harryspet]

buy me presents | r. cameron

[warnings] dark!mafia!rafe x spoiled!bratty!reader, ex-convict!rafe, rafe has a spoiling kink, topper thornton x reader, kidnapping/confinement, bondage, mentions of death/violence, toxic relationship, NONCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: merry christmas eve! gif credit: @/janesarahspidey

In which Rafe is more dangerous than ever and he interrupts your honeymoon with your new husband.

word count: 6.2k

rafe cameron masterlist

Somewhere like Greece seemed like a much better option for your honeymoon. Your husband, Topper, insisted that spending the end of year at a cozy, cabin in the mountains would be much more intimate.  Besides that, you’d gotten married so late into the year that a tropical honeymoon was probably out of the question. You bargained for a trip to Greece in the spring and decided not to pout. At least a cozy mountain trip meant cute two-piece lounge sets with fur-line boots and adorable ear muffs. 

That morning, he’d lugged all four of your suitcases into the back of his SUV, and you drove 4 hours from Figure 8 to the mountains. The car heater hummed softly as you stared out the window, the serenity of the trip barely masking your true feelings. You had the perfect winter wedding, a huge oval diamond on your ring, you’d snagged the most eligible bachelor in Kildare, and yet, you were still hoping for more. 

Topper was all smiles when you arrived, chivalrously carrying all your things inside. The “cabin” he picked was less than low-key, which impressed you, from the outside it was covered in snow but you could tell there were at least seven bedrooms. Shivering you followed him inside. The moment the door slammed shut behind you, the noise felt strangely final, like you were trapped in a cage of wood and snow. 

Your husband went to work on the fireplace, and still shivering, you wandered through the luxurious cabin’s living room. It was adorned with over-stuffed furniture, red-plaid blanket throws, deep leather couches, and velvet armchairs. A bear skin rug sat before the fireplace, a deer head placed ceremoniously over the mantle, “I was thinking we could decorate the place for Christmas. Make it real cozy. What do you think?”

You nodded, a small smile on your lips, “Yeah … where are we gonna get decorations?” You crossed your arms as you continued to shiver. Moving closer to him, you were hoping a spark would appear soon. 

Topper glanced over at you, his face lighting up with excitement. "I figured we could take a drive into town tomorrow, get a real tree, maybe a few things for the mantel. It'll be perfect. You know, all the little touches."

The fire crackled in front of you as Topper carefully stoked the flames, his focus on making sure it blazed high. His back was to you, his arms flexing as he worked, and for a moment, you found yourself staring at him. Topper was handsome, successful, and undoubtedly a good man. You let yourself feel grateful that he’d put so much thought into this trip.

Planning your dream wedding had completely consumed your thoughts this year, bringing you unimaginable anxiety. Every decision, every detail had been meticulously planned, from the dress to the flowers, the venue, and every single guest on the guest list. You’d sacrificed sleep, health, and sanity in pursuit of perfection. But now, the wedding was behind you, and the weight of it all seemed to evaporate in the crisp mountain air.

You decided that this was the time to finally let go of the constant pressure and to simply enjoy being married, “Sounds perfect,” You responded, and at the same time, you saw the first spark. Topper stoked the fire, letting it grow, and you finally felt the comforting heat, “The tree has to be at least nine feet, okay? With red and gold bulbs and big poinsettias. I want my sister to totally freak out when I send her photos.” You said it with a small smirk, imagining her wide-eyed reaction to the grandeur of it all. You were already picturing the perfect holiday setup, one that would leave no room for comparison.

“You got it,” He stood up from his place kneeling by the fireplace, dusting off his pants, and leaned in to kiss you softly. His voice was low, reassuring, and you picked out the way his eyes soften at the sight of you. Topper Thornton was madly in love with you, “What sounds good for dinner?”

“Steak?” You offered, leaning back against the arm of the couch. Outside, through tall glass windows, you watched snow fall down on the landscape. 

“Steak it is. I’m gonna make you an amazing dinner and then we’re going to have the coziest night in.” He leaned down to kiss you on your forehead and you watched as he made his way to the kitchen. 

“I will …unpack,” You declared, staring around the room, already envisioning where you would settle.

The master suite was tucked away on the upper floor, accessed by a grand staircase with a dark wood banister that creaked softly under your footsteps. The soft glow from the chandelier above cast a warm light over you. The stairs led to a long hallway that ended in double doors, adorned with heavy brass handles. 

At the center of the room stood a four-poster king-sized bed with a thick down comforter and piles of plush pillows, framed by an elegant dark wood bed frame. Across the room was yet another fireplace and you imagined a warm, cozy consummation of your marriage. You were no virgin, and Topper hadn’t proposed to you before sampling what he intended to lock down for the rest of his life, but you wanted it to be special. 

Your eyes wandered to the private balcony accessed through French doors offered views of the snow-covered expanse but was too cold to truly enjoy. Instead, you turned your attention to unpacking yours and Topper’s luggage, organizing your belongings in the spacious walk-in closet. The expansive vanity soon became a canvas for your collection of beauty trinkets and makeup, each item finding its place as you settled into your new surroundings.

You joined Topper for dinner, the mouth watering aroma already having reached you upstairs. Topper was good at being doting, remembering to pull out your chair for you, making sure your glass of red wine never fully emptied. Part of your heart fluttered, the other, more realistic half was skeptical. You couldn’t help but reflect on the endless conversations you’d had with your therapist. She’d pointed out time and time again that you struggled to let people fully in, even the ones who loved you.

This was the time, Y/N, to finally let someone in. What better person than the one you agreed to marry? 

Dinner was more than pleasant, and as the wine started to warm your cheeks, the conversation turned light. It was fun. Sometimes you forgot how much fun Topper could be. 

Topper’s voice was low and teasing, “If you could switch lives with anyone for a day, no strings attached, no responsibilities, no commitments, who would it be and why?”

You paused, the question hanging in the air for a moment. Topper leaned forward slightly, clearly enjoying the challenge he’d just given you. You could tell he was genuinely curious, but also hoping to catch a glimpse of something unexpected, something about the woman he’d married that maybe even you hadn’t fully explored.

Your fingers played with the stem of your wine glass as you thought, the question pulling you into a brief moment of reflection.

“Hmmm…” you mused, your heartbeat picking up, though you kept your face neutral, “I think… I’d pick my oldest sister. She does everything right. She’s got it all together. At least, that’s what my Mom and Dad always say.”

“Really?” Topper smiled, taking a sip from his wine, “Your sister?”

“Yeah,” Maybe because you felt no judgement at all, you kept speaking, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t love my life now. But all I wanted when I was a teenager was to be the godliest woman, to get married young, and you know, do all the things a pastor’s daughter is supposed to do. And I watched all three of my sisters do it and…they’ve just never approved of my decisions.”

You were sitting across from the only decision your parent’s approved of but you weren’t always Topper Thornton’s wife. For years, they’d considered you “lost”. 

Topper gave you a soft smile. “I’m surprised but it’s kind of nice to … to know you more. I want to know your more, Y/N,” You understood what he meant. You did your best to come across only how you wanted others to perceive you, “You know, you’re exactly where you need to be, right here with me. And I’m sorry, but your parents are idiots.”

You nodded, laughing, before you down the rest of your wine, “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” Topper’s eyes widened, “Is it upstairs?”

You nodded, standing from the table. “Yes. I’m going to get ready. Toss these dishes in the sink, I’ll clean them tomorrow, and meet me upstairs in… five minutes, okay?”

“Can’t wait, Mrs. Thornton,” He winked and you scurried away from the table with a mischievous smile. 

It took you a lot longer than five minutes to get ready and you were lucky that Topper had known you well enough to give you more time. You chose an outfit you’d been waiting to pull out since the beginning of planning for your wedding. The nightgown was crafted from soft, white silky fabric, it’s neck plunged and the neckline was adorned by lace. The hem ended just before the middle of your thighs, teasing yet tasteful, and the robe that accompanied it was made from the same light, airy material. You tied the robe lazily in front, letting the fabric cascade over your body. 

You were applying lipgloss in the mirror when you heard the closing of a car door. You paused for a moment, wondering why he had gone out to the car. Deciding you were presentable enough, you left the room. At the top of the stairs, you heard the shuffling of feet and assumed Topper had made his way back inside. 

“Babe?” You inquired as you made your way down the stairs. Your stomach dropped the moment that your bare feet hit the bottom step. You gripped the stair railing as your eyes tried to make sense of the movement in the dimly lit downstairs. All you could really tell was that Topper was not alone and dark figures had crowded the living room. 

Then your heard a painful grunt and recognized the sound as belonging to Topper. Abort, abort, abort, the little voice in your head said. When you turned around, there was a dark figure standing at the top of the stairs now. You immediately recognized the cold, calculating look in his eyes. He was one of Rafe's men. You couldn’t remember his name, but the air around him was thick with malice. He didn’t need to say a word for you to understand his intent: you weren’t going anywhere.

A scream left your lips before you could cover your mouth with a shaky hand. “Stay still,” the man at the top of the stairs said in a low, gruff voice. His hand moved toward his waistband, and your stomach twisted as you feared the worst.

You moved forward despite his words. The shuffling from the living room intensified, followed by another grunt from Topper, which made your legs nearly buckle beneath you. You were so, so, so close to the door but a few steps in that direction made you realize there were two other men blocking that exit. You turned around slowly, following their line of the sight, and moved in the only direction there was. 

You padded closer to the living room, a crackling fire the only source of light in the room. Rafe Cameron stood, tall and commanding, gun pointed to your husband’s temple. He already owned every inch of the space. 

Topper’s eyes flicked toward you, panic and fear evident in them, but he didn’t speak, not while Rafe’s gun was so close to his head. His jaw clenched, and he shifted uncomfortably in place, his hands bound behind him. Two other dark figures stood nearby and you quickly processed that they were most likely the ones who overpowered your husband. 

Cold, calculating eyes locked on you. Oh god, you thought, you’d really done it now. 

It wasn’t love at first sight with Rafe Cameron. Not even close. But it was fire—raw, passionate, and all-consuming. You were at the end of your rebellious phase, days away from moving back home, and finally agreeing to go to that Christian college your parents always wanted you to go to.

It really started with a pair of diamond earrings. Not a conversation, not a connection, just a gesture that hit you like a freight train. 

He presented them after he’d given you three earth-shattering, bed-frame-slamming orgasms in a row, and you’d dozed off in his bedroom, tangled in the sheets, not caring that it was a late-night rendezvous that was never supposed to mean anything. The earrings were tucked inside a velvet box that seemed almost out of place with the raw, unrestrained chaos of the night.

“Are you paying me for sex? Like a hooker?”

“You’d think I’d buy diamond earrings for a hooker?” His voice was steady, as if he hadn’t just spent hours making your legs shake. “No, this is an investment. I want my future wife to know I can give her nice things.”

"Shut up," you muttered, not trying to keep the sting out of your voice. You weren’t his property. You weren’t someone’s investment.

Rafe only smirked, eyes predatory but amused. You accepted, of course, and you tried them on just minutes later. You’d never owned anything so … sparkly. They were the opposite of modest, the opposite of the world you were so close to entering again. 

There was no amusement in the look Rafe Cameron was giving you now, his black suit molding perfectly to his tall, muscular frame. “And here she is,” Rafe announced, a smile on his lips with absolutely know joy behind it, “The beautiful bride!” 

“Rafe …” You steadied your breathing as much as possible, “What are you doing?”

You couldn’t help but notice his hair—buzzed short, a sharp contrast to the way he used to wear it. It gave him a more rugged and dangerous look, one that matched the quiet menace he often carried in his demeanor.

“What does it look like? I came to congratulate you two.” 

“Put the gun away,” You stepped closer, arms wrapping around yourself, wanting to conceal your vulnerable form from the men in the room, “He didn’t do anything. You know he didn’t. I’m the one who–”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I did consider him a good friend of mine, you know? S’pose to look after my girl while I did my time. Guess you thought I was giving you permission to fuck her,” The barrel of the gun pressed harder into Topper’s temple and you cringed. His icy blue eyes pinned you in place as he scanned over you. You wanted to scream, to throw yourself at Rafe and tear the gun from his hand, but something in you knew that it wasn’t that simple. It never had been with Rafe.

“No, you don’t get to do this,” You declared, raising your voice as much as your body would let you, “You went away. I ended things. You don’t get to tear everything down just because you can’t let go.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched and you could see the nerve you’d struck written all over his face, “She’s not your girl anymore,” Topper spoke through gritted teeth, “You can’t–”

Rafe’s eyes flashed with a fury that turned his features hard and before you could take another breath, he moved with lightning speed, raising the gun in his hand. The crack of metal meeting flesh filled the room as Rafe pistol-whipped Topper across the face, sending him crumbling to the floor.

“Fuck!” You cursed, tears stinging your eyes. You fought the urge to keel over and release the contents of your stomach at the sight of the blood gushing from Topper’s face. A blind rage came over you as you started to struggle to breathe. 

“Neither of you get to tell me what the fuck to do,” Rafe’s eyes bore into you. 

You moved closer, wanting to check and at least make sure your husband was still breathing. Before you knew it, Rafe’s gun was pointing at you. 

“No, leave him. You. Sit,” He gestured the gun towards the leather couch. 

You hesitated and Rafe easily pointed the gun back at Topper. A threat. Shakily, you stepped away from Topper’s figure, and sat down on the living room couch. You tried to steady yourself, stop yourself from vibrating with anger, to calm your nerves so you could think rationally. 

Across the room, Rafe did the same, though his movements were more restless, more frantic. He paced back and forth, his boots thudding softly against the carpet. The gun never left his hand, his fingers curling tighter around it as he muttered under his breath, words too quiet to make out.

It was a scene you had witnessed before. Rafe trying to calm down after doing something reckless. Something violent. You wanted nice things, sure. But not like this. Not at the cost of your peace, your sanity. And certainly not at the cost of your safety.

The realization hit you then. The crazy that came with Rafe Cameron? You had never wanted it, not really. 

“What do you want from us?” You asked, lips trembling. 

“Nothing from him,” Rafe decided quickly, “From you. There is no limit to all that I want from you, Y/N.”

You breathed deeply, “What do you want me to say? You want me to lie to you, Rafe?”

Rafe nodded his head as he thought about your words, “I want that ring off your finger …” He trailed off, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

You look down at your left hand as it sat on your lap. You quickly covered your left hand with your right, “Take if off,” He continued and when you didn’t budge, he added, “I’m not asking. Do it or-”

Angrily, you kept your eyes on him. You pulled off your engagement ring and wedding band, tossing the two at his feet. 

“Good,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze narrowing, though he still smirked. "You’ll regret that."

He leaned down to take the rings into his hand, “Hmm, you always told me you wanted a pear shape. I know you didn’t change your mind that quickly. Let me guess …you mentioned it but he never remembered. And you were just so grateful that he even got down on one knee for you.” 

Rafe’s words stung, his mockery of your past with Topper hitting harder than you expected. 

“I love it. You know all I really care about is a big diamond, Rafe,” You spoke through a painful smile.

“I know I’m not the only man in the world with money,” Rafe said, his voice tight with controlled anger. “But what you don’t understand is, he wouldn’t have anything without me. That new real estate venture of his? The one he’s so proud of now? It started with me. And what does he do? He swoops in, steals my girl, and then steals five million dollars from me. That’s what all of this is about, sweet girl. I’m here to collect what’s owed to me.”

His words hit like a slap, each sentence dripping with resentment and possessiveness. The revelation about the money, about the real reason for everything that had led to this moment, twisted in your stomach like a blade. 

“He didn’t steal me,” You countered bitterly, “I was never going to be yours. You’re a criminal.”

There was a dangerous intensity in Rafe’s eyes. Your arms crossed now out of defiance. Rafe nodded, smiling, “You’re right about one of those things. Wrong about you never being mine. But you’re right about me being a criminal.” 

Rafe crossed the room and your heart leapt from your chest as your leapt from your seat. Rafe Cameron introduced you to a violence you’d never known, and in less than a second, completely broke your heart. Topper, already passed out and crumpled on the floor, didn’t stand a chance. Standing over his body, gun angled to the ground, Rafe shot your husband in the head. 

Another second later, he was handing your rings over to one of his henchman standing nearby, “Go ahead and bury these with him.” 

Your knees buckled at the sight …the parts of his brain that were scattered all over the carpet. our hand trembled as you reached for him, but the second you touched his skin, the realization that he was gone set in.

You heard Rafe’s voice, his focus was elsewhere. You thought you might’ve heard his laugh. The sound was the last thing you heard before everything went still.

Ropes bit into your wrists. You tried to pull yourself up, the softness of the mattress making you sink further, and then you felt a strong hand on your waist holding you in place. Turning your head rapidly, you saw both your wrists tied to the opposite ends of the wooden bed. Looking down, not only did you see your lingerie still in place, but Rafe Cameron was kneeling between your legs. 

He’d remove his clothes except for his slacks though you could see his belt was loosened. You pressed your head back into the mattress, pulling at your restraints, “This is low, even for you,” You breathed out.

“Low? You’re being dramatic.”

“You killed my husband,” you whispered, the weight of the truth settling like a stone in your stomach. Slowly, he crawled on top of your, shirtless and even more sculpted than you remembered. His frame, lean and muscular bathed in the warm glow of the room's lighting. His chest was broad and defined with every line of his torso sharp. Your eyes found his shoulders, broad and powerful, tapering down to a narrow waist. Prison had not only hardened his frown lines, it had hardened every part of him. 

Rafe’s eyes flickered as he looked down at you, a brief flash of something—guilt, maybe? That look was gone quickly, replaced with something colder, harder. 

Unable to hide the panic in your voice now, you continued, “Rafe …don’t … please-” 

He searched your face, “Please?” He raised an eyebrow, “My spoiled brat remembers her manners?”

“I hate you,” You tried to blink away the tears that were forming in your eyes. Rafe caressed your face, thumb dragging over your cheeks, “God, I fucking hate you.”

His hand moved to your neck, his grip tightening there, “You didn’t give a shit about him. I know you. You were settling.”

“You don’t–”

“You forget,” He squeezed tighter, "Stop pretending I don’t know you. I see right through the act. I know what excites you, what gets your heart racing. That ring? It was never what you wanted. This whole life you’ve been pretending to want. You play innocent in front of everyone-”

“Get off me–”

He squeezed harder, his grip forcing your breath to catch in your throat. Your eyes widened in panic, but his gaze never wavered. “You want the private jets, the black card, the shopping sprees that never end, the villas in Italy, the lifestyle that makes everyone look twice when you walk into a room. You want to be the center of attention, the prettiest thing in every room. You want to be seen—on someone’s arm, my fucking arm. You crave the power that comes with being with a man like me.”

“A man who can kill and get away with it. Who has the power to have someone else do all his dirty work,” His voice had grown sensual, and his dark words caressed your ear now. You weren’t breathing right but your chest did not heave up and down, you remained in the trance that his words put you in, “What would I feel if I put my hands between your legs right now?” 

“Rafe…” You whispered.

“What baby?” He purred. 

“You’re a narcissist,” To your shock, he smiled, a slow, wicked curve of his lips. And in that moment, you knew: you’d already lost.

Rafe attacked the side of your face with his mouth, leaving kisses along your jawline, before he forced his lips on yours. He tasted the same, you realized that quickly, and you were transported to a time in your life that you’d been trying to suppress the last two years. You struggled beneath him as he pressed his lower half into your, pinning you fully. 

The restraints were the cherry on top of your misery. Rafe could hold you down with no problem and yet he wanted to remind you that you were being punished. 

“You don’t have to worry about me going away again,” He whispered through warm kisses against your skin, “I’m running a tighter operation, okay?”

Your attempts to turn your face away were futile, as your bare neck became his next target. You already felt betrayed by your body. Your body remembered Rafe, and certainly remembered your weakest spot. You pulled at your restraints, stifling the moan that was threatening to leave your lips. 

“No,” you bit out, yanking at your restraints as if sheer willpower could set you free.

But Rafe only pressed more of his weight against you, pinning you further beneath him. “No?” he echoed mockingly, “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. Not until you come for me. A few times, at least,” he murmured, his lips grazing your ear. “Gotta make up for lost time, don’t we?”

You wanted to scream at him, to spit out how impossible his demand was, how utterly absurd it was to think you could find any pleasure with the man who had done something so unforgivable, so monstrous to someone you cared for.

But the words caught in your throat, strangled by the heat coursing through you. His mouth trailed lower, and your resolve wavered. “That’s it,” he coaxed, his tone dripping with smug confidence, “don’t fight it. You know I always get what I want, baby.”

You searched your brain for the right words. “Rafe Cameron. Don’t. I won’t forgive you if you do this!” 

“I don’t need your forgiveness, baby,” He kissed the skin between your breasts, your plunging neckline leaving you vulnerable, “You’re scared you’re going to like it. That I’m right. C’mon, let Daddy take care of you.”

Rafe’s body moved lower and your panic continued. Strong, thick arms, kept your thighs pinned as Rafe teasing kisses on the outside of your thighs. If your thighs were pressed together, you had no doubt you’d feel a stickiness between them. Your body was ready even if your mind wasn’t. 

When he lifted your thin nightgown and pulled your panties to the side, you tilted your head back in defeat. Now, the battle was in not completely losing your mind. Feeling his warm breath against your most sensitive organ made you realize you’d lose that battle too and quickly. His initial movements were a clear attempt to savor you. Slowly, so painfully slow. 

The intimacy was something you weren’t prepared for. The way Rafe Cameron moved his mouth against you was extremely personal. His touch went from light and slow, gradually building up to something that was sharp and intentional. Something that didn’t change, something often left out of yours and Topper’s sex life, was a steady rhythm. 

Unfortunately, you’d been so busy with the wedding, even your wedding night was too chaotic to consummate the marriage. You hadn’t had an orgasm in weeks. 

Your first orgasm came so quickly that you hadn’t realized it was happening until your body started to convulse and a yelp was on your tongue, “Fuck, fuck, fuck” You cursed. You refused to look down at him but you couldn’t bear to look at his wicked grin. His tongue trailed down to your entrance momentarily but soon he was relentlessly attacking your sore bud again. Rafe was consuming you, “Rafe, please …okay, okay, I came. You can stop now!”

“Why would I stop, baby, when I’m giving you everything you deserve?”

He responded to every reaction. Every attempt to pull away, he kept you steady. You struggled as much as you could and let out frustrated screams. Every attempt to pull away, he kept you steady. He pulled you closer to his mouth, using your hips as an anchor. When you inevitably felt you had nothing left to give him, he forced it out of you. 

He talked to you, coaxing you through the orgasms you were struggling to give him.

“When I’m done with you, I’ll take you home, buy you every little thing you’ve ever wanted.”

Warm and wet, that’s all your body could focus on. You were embarrassingly wet. Your entire body was warm. Your toes curled and you breathed so heavily that you thought you were having a panic attack. You were a sweaty, shaking, cursing mess by the time he finally let you go. 

After Rafe, gently undid your restraints, the coaxing continued. “Daddy’s gonna make sure you’re taken care of. Spa days. Vacations. Real ones. Anything for my girl.”

The silent treatment had never been your style. You were outspoken to a fault, the kind of person who always had something to say, even when you shouldn't. But now, the words were stuck in your throat. You curled your body away from him, your knees pulled to your chest, still trembling from the aftershocks of his touch.

The weight of the last 24 hours pressed down on you. You tried to rationalize, to convince yourself you hadn’t done anything wrong. You hadn’t pulled the trigger. But none of that mattered now. Someone was dead, and the blood felt like it was on your hands, too.

You turned your face into the pillow, desperate to block out the sight of Rafe sitting on the edge of the bed, calm and composed as if nothing had happened. Rafe Cameron didn’t earn his money honestly; you’d always known that. But the full extent of his power, the lengths to which his influence stretched, were incomprehensible. He had people who would bury bodies for him, without question, without hesitation. Who was he now? What had he become in the years since you’d last truly known him?

Your mind wandered to the kind of money he must have. Enough to make men loyal to him beyond reason. Enough to buy silence, loyalty, and the kind of life most people couldn’t even dream of. Maybe he was serious about the private jet and villas in Italy. 

You felt it in the hand he placed on your upper thigh. Power. 

 “Gonna run you a bath, baby.”

As soon as he was out of your sight, you pulled yourself up from the bed. Your eyes locked in on your bruised wrist and then lingered on your empty ring finger. Throwing weak and wobbly legs over the side of the bed, you made a dash for the bedroom doors. 

Maybe you could make it. Do the right thing. Get help-

But as you pushed open the door, the sight of a man standing just outside stopped you cold. He was armed, his posture too relaxed for someone holding that kind of power in his hands. He didn’t say a word, didn’t need to. His presence alone was the warning: Don’t even think about it.

You heard stomping, heavy footsteps of a brute you use to love, before arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you backwards. Heavy wood doors slammed and made your heart jump. 

“Running, huh?” Rafe growled in your ear, “After I’ve been so sweet to you?”

You struggled to the point that Rafe had to tackle you to the floor. You thought about Topper. You thought about the man outside the door listening to everything happening in this room. You thought about how gentle Rafe had been with you in comparison to now. You made a mistake. Running was a mistake. 

“Hey!” Rafe’s voice snapped you from your panic and you stared up at him with wide eyes, “You’re okay. These guys are here to protect you. That’s it. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

His words clashed with everything you’d seen, everything you felt. Protect you? From what? From who? The only danger in this room was him.

Rafe released one of your wrists to brush your hair from your face, the gesture at odds with the raw power still holding you down. “I’m not mad, baby,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “But don’t make me chase you again. Don’t wanna hurt you. Now, you up for that bath?”

There was no choice in the matter, you simply just gritted your teeth. You feared the second option would be to be tied up again. 

To your dismay, you undressed from your thin layer of clothing, and stepped into the bath. The warmth was a reminder of this entire home’s original purpose. Rafe seemed to have no shame about completely destroying your honeymoon. Your body was stiff and you didn’t meet his eyes as he kneeled by the tub, running his fingers through the water, before he caressed your arm, “See, not so bad,” Rafe said, “I missed you, Y/N.”

“I’m sure you missed a lot of things in jail,” Pulling your knees up cover your chest, you kept your eyes focused on the bubbles in the water. 

“I think I missed your smart mouth most of all,” You jumped at the sound of him slapping his hand against the porcelain of the tub. He rose from his kneeling position and turned in the direction of the room, “Finish up. I got you some stuff. Want you to see it.” 

You exhaled shakily, your heart pounding in your chest. The warmth of the bath felt suffocating now, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air. You sank lower into the water, trying to collect your thoughts. 

You hated him. Hated the way he controlled you, the way he twisted every situation to suit his needs. But deep down, buried beneath the fear and anger, was the part of you that had always craved the kind of life only someone like Rafe could provide. And it scared you to realize that even now, when you should want nothing more than to escape, some small, selfish part of you still wanted to see what he had waiting for you.

Taking your time, you scrubbed away the scent of Rafe, although you still couldn’t shake that feeling of his mouth on you. You felt as if you had completely come undone. A part of you feared that he might have ruined you with how relentless he’d been. 

Taking back some of your modesty, you dressed in sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt. He was waiting for you, immediately crossing the room, as you opened the bathroom door. Placing a gentle hand on your back, he ushered you forward, “Been thinking about this the whole time I was gone.”

On the bed was a collection of boxes, neatly arranged like a display in a high-end boutique. Your breath hitched as your eyes scanned over them. Velvet jewelry cases, designer shopping bags, and a shoebox with the logo of a luxury brand you’d only ever admired from afar. 

You turned your head to look up at him. You attempted to convey something serious, a warning, a please stop and yet you were sure you could only display uncertainty in that moment. “Don’t be shy, baby. These are for you.”

Your feet carried you forward reluctantly, your mind warring with itself. You didn’t want to feed into his delusions that he could buy your affection. But the truth was, a part of you wanted to see.

He reached for a small box first, flipping it open to reveal a ring. The diamond was massive, glittering under the light in a pear shape that was both elegant and extravagant, “I know it’s not the ring you got but it’s the one you deserve.” 

“Rafe,” you exhaled, his name slipping from your lips with a softness that startled even you. The sound was far more intimate than you intended, like an instinct you couldn’t control

Like a magnet, your hand moved towards the box. Before you could reach it, Rafe flashed you a smirk, before he took the ring of the box and gestured for your hand. Your fingers trembled. He slid the ring onto your finger with deliberate care, his touch lingering just long enough to make your pulse race.

Your lips parted in awe as you marveled down at the at least. “Oh my god, it’s perfect.”

“Told you,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. “Nothing but the best for you, baby.”

It was so beautiful, so perfect, it almost made you forget the ugliness of how it had ended up on your hand.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, barely recognizing your own voice. Whether the gratitude was genuine or forced, you couldn’t even tell anymore.

Rafe tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to read the thoughts behind your expression. “You deserve it,” he said softly, “You deserve everything.”

You weren’t sure if he was right but he was offering something you knew no one else could. And it scared you how much you wanted it.

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[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 8 (part two)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 6.2k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

A blood curdling shriek rang through the house, jolting Carter from her restless dreams.

She sat straight up in bed, heart racing as she looked around the dark room, head so heavy she could barely remember where she was or how she got there.

In her hungover mental fog, she pieced it together slowly. She was at the beach house, in her room, it was early, she drank so much last night and Topper said -

“OH MY GOD!” 

Another sharp scream came from downstairs, and her heart rate spiked all over again. She pulled the fluffy comforter around her shoulders and hurried out of the room, quiet on the stairs as she nervously approached the source of all the commotion.

When she saw what was inducing Sabrina’s shock, she doubled back, hiding around the corner so they couldn’t see her. Her stomach churned with bitter loathing, and something else even more nauseating…

She dropped the blanket and rushed to the half-bath off the house’s entryway, doubled over the toilet bowl as last night’s poor choices continued to haunt her.

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Rafe drove faster than he had before your interrupted rendezvous, seeming not to want to drag this adventure out anymore. You eyed him nervously from the passenger seat, searching for words that weren’t coming to you. 

Tongue tied and exhausted was not how you wanted to begin this…whatever this was between you. Rafe had given you words, so many of them, back on the beach and all he asked in return was a simple yes or no.

Are you my girl?

No four words had ever felt so heavy. The shitty part was, you wanted to say yes. At the sound of his breathless question every cell in your body was screaming yes! I’m your girl! I’ve always been your girl! 

But then there was that pesky piece of self preservation that cemented itself in your heart all those years ago and didn’t plan to give up any time soon. 

He looked so disappointed when you couldn’t give him a quick and easy answer, his chest now deflated and shoulders sunken as he drove the rest of the route home. Despite your lingering hesitation, you felt like you needed to give him something, needed to lift the frown that was settled on the lips you had tasted so many times this morning.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“For what?” He asked.

“I’m…slow,” you began, “it takes me a while, y’know? To find the words. I’m not like you, I don’t know how you came up with that speech in less than a minute.”

Rafe laughed, confusing you.

“What?”

“You think I came up with that speech in a minute?” He chuckled, “I’ve been practicing it every day since senior year of high school.”

Your heart clenched at the endearing thought of him in front of the mirror, driving to class, taking a shower all while rehearsing what he’d say if you ever gave him the chance.

“Oh,” you tucked your hair behind your ear.

It was infuriating, your complete inability to get a grip on your own thoughts and feelings around him. It had always been this way. You were well-spoken and sound-minded, until this one person was in your atmosphere, his presence your own personal kryptonite.

To be fair to yourself, it wasn’t just your own weakness for him that had caused you to build such high walls. When you were kids, he sometimes made you feel this way on purpose. He used to have fun watching you get flustered, just the right amount of flirting to send you into a tizzy, only to leave you spinning like a top with no one to stop you.

You truly tried to leave the past behind, burying it somewhere back in the sand on the beach. You reminded yourself that the Rafe of your memories was not the one sitting next to you right now. But that might just be the problem, because at least you knew that Rafe, you knew exactly what he would do next.

If he grabbed your hand, you knew he was about to drop it. If he said something sweet, you knew he was about to say something passive aggressive. If he acted like he loved you, you knew he was about to act like he’d never met you a day in his life.

But this Rafe, this new one, was completely unpredictable. Wild and dangerous in his apparent affection for you. How were you supposed to know what he did next wasn’t going to hurt? He was right about what he said on the jet ski - you won’t know until you give him the chance. Easier said than done.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he offered after you’d been quiet for a long time.

“This week has just been…” trying to come up with one word to describe it felt like a futile task.

“Overwhelming?” Rafe tried to help.

“Surprising,” you countered. “I’ve never been good with surprises.”

“You like to know what’s coming next,” he nodded, once again displaying a deep knowledge of you that you never knew he possessed.

Like he could read your mind, his arm stretched across the small divide and his palm, warm and soft, settled on your thigh, a single soothing stroke to let you know he’s still here, he’s still yours. The feeling of his skin touching yours was like aloe vera directly on the burn.

With a grateful smile, you leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath as he steered you home.

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Carter padded down the hall, stopping three separate times, trying to decide if she should just go back to her own room. But the sight of her frantic texts to you still saying “delivered” and not “read” was too concerning to ignore.

She opened Topper’s door without knocking.

He was sitting up against his headboard, typing feverishly on his phone. At the sight of her, he clutched his duvet cover, pulling it up higher over his nearly naked body.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” 

“Please, like I haven’t seen it all before. Like I didn’t see it yesterday,” she rolled her eyes.

“Oh okay, so you do remember. Based on the way you were acting last night I thought maybe you’d forgotten we’d ever been together,” he snipped at her.

“I don’t want to talk about last night,” she waved him off, dismissing his complaints flippantly, “are you aware of what’s happening downstairs right now? Of who is happening downstairs right now?”

“Yes, I saw her pull up,” he returned his attention to his phone and his frenzied typing.

Outside his cracked open door, Carter heard Kelce, Tom, and a few others come barreling up the stairs, chatting about the recent arrival.

“Be so fucking for real, did you invite her?” Carter said, attempting to lower her voice.

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this but you do this thing where you think you’re whispering and you’re actually not,” Topper informed her.

“Topper…”

“No, I didn’t invite her.,” he answered. “Actually I was about to ask if you did.”

“Why the fuck would I do that? I hate her.”

“Wow alright, hate's a strong word, Carter, maybe calm down a little.”

Ever since their knock-down-drag-out at the club last night, the arguing that was usually playful and lighthearted had an edge of actual bitterness to it.

“First of all, if you ever tell me to ‘calm down’ again, I’m going full Lorena Bobbitt on your ass. Second of all, you need to go down there and tell her to leave,” she flicked her hair behind her shoulder and held her chin up as she bossed him around. He hated that despite how mad at her he was, he fucking loved it.

“How does that job possibly fall on me?” He scoffed.

“Aren’t you Mr. Team Rafe-and-my-sister? Don’t you want to get rid of the reason they stopped talking in the first place?” She reasoned.

“I’m not gonna tell her she can’t be here,” he shut her down. “It’s not my house, and it’s really none of my business. Or yours.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, “oh yeah? Then who are you texting so much over there?”

“I’m just giving him a head’s up,” he shrugged. “She should probably know too.”

“And you’re just assuming they’re together?” She snarled.

“Puh-lease,” he rolled his eyes, “did you see them at the club last night? There’s no way they didn’t hook up.”

She wouldn’t accept it, couldn’t, even though she knew somewhere deep in her gut that he was probably right. 

When Rafe still didn’t answer any of his texts, Topper sighed heavily, “fuck it, I don’t care if I’m cockblocking, I’m calling him.”

Before he could dial, the house shook with the slam of the front door. Carter and Topper hurried out to the hall and hesitated at the top of the steps. Your lone voice carried up to them, talking to no one in particular as you muttered, “un-fucking-belivable.”

Carter actually did whisper this time, “I think it might be too late for that…”

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The feeling of Rafe’s hand, warm and steady on your thigh, as he drove the rest of the route home was so nice and comforting, you let yourself slip into the possibility that this could actually be it. Maybe you really could just leave the past behind you, maybe you really had finally found each other and it could just be simple like this.

But your fantasy didn’t last long.

Rafe parked in the spot across the street that you had taken Carter’s car from a few hours ago. Even when he turned the key and cut the engine, he didn’t remove his hand from your leg. 

“You ready?” He sighed.

“For what?” You questioned, eyeing him curiously, his face serious as he looked down at the site of his hand on your skin.

He shook his head like he didn’t know the answer himself, “reality, I guess.”

You placed your hand over his, smirking at the sight of your fingers encompassing each other’s, wanting so much more from these hands and truly believing you’d have all the time in the world to enjoy them. 

“Bring it on,” you gave him a small smile.

“He leaned across the center console and dropped a deep kiss to your lips, causing you to sigh into his mouth. All the times you imagined kissing him, you never thought such a rough-around-the-edges guy would have such soft lips. You felt like you might be able to spend forever with them on your skin.

When he finally pulled away, you reached for the handle of your door, beginning to open it, but Rafe reached across your body and pulled it shut again.

“What are you doing?” You asked in surprise.

He smiled that perfect, dimpled grin of his, “extra credit.”

You giggled as he hurried to climb out of the driver’s side, hurrying around to your door and opening it with a chivalrous flair.

“Wow,” you beamed, accepting his hand as he helped you down from the tall vehicle. “You weren’t kidding about trying to be a gentleman.”

“For you, I’ll be anything,” he flirted.

Despite your best efforts not to, you blushed, the red hue on your cheeks deepening when Rafe kept your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours as you walked back to the house. It was the first time he’d held your hand out in the open like this, where anyone could look out from the windows of the beach house and see the two of you together. It was foreign to you, his public display of affection, and yet it felt so right. You couldn’t help but wish it hadn’t taken this long.

“Can I ask you something?” You said quietly.

“Anything,” he squeezed your hand assuringly. 

“Why didn’t we do this a long time ago?” 

Rafe’s face fell slightly, watching his feet as they made less and less forward progress on the sidewalk, until he came to a full stop. The question was mostly meant to be lighthearted, a tease really, but his solemn reaction made your stomach twist with concern.

“I…” he started, voice unsteady, not meeting your eyeline, “I don’t know if I should tell you this but -”

You never knew what he wasn’t supposed to tell you, because before he could, a sickeningly familiar voice called out from the front porch.

“Hey guys!”

Head snapping toward the sound, you looked up, and there she was, as stunning as ever in that same signature everything-you’re-not-ness. 

Cassie Bryant.

Her face was adorned with a glistening smile, yours was noticeably not. Everything in you sunk, including the corners of your lips, completely unable to hide the way your heart dropped six feet under the ground at the sight of her.

She was somehow even more golden and glowing now than she was back then. Glossy blonde hair flowing down her back like a waterfall of silk. Her perfect, blemish free skin glowed in the early morning light. Her big, round Disney Princess eyes quickly found Rafe and flicked over your joined hands, clocking the way they were folded together in unmistakable intimacy.

It happened so quickly, and yet it felt like years worth of hurt and heartache compacted into one small moment. 

At the sight of Cassie on the porch, Rafe dropped your hand.

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Surely, any minute now, a camera crew would pop out from the bushes and announce that you were being Punk’d.

Or maybe it’d be the Mythbusters:

The myth? That you can actually heal from your childhood trauma with just four years of painstaking hard work. Well, we’re about to prove that all of that can be unraveled in the span of 72 hours! Also, we will be using your heart as our crash test dummy. Myth busted!

You didn’t look over at Rafe, couldn’t bear to watch the way he pulled his body away from yours, ever-so-slightly, almost imperceptibly. But you could feel it all the same, and you were sure she could too. 

Before Cassie could say anything else, the front door opened behind her, Sabrina stepping out of the house and taking in the unfolding scene on the lawn.

“Oh shit,” she laughed, “this is awkward!”

It’s like her main goal in life was to find new and creative ways to make your bad moments worse.

“Is it?” Cassie asked, seemingly unaware of the cause of Sabrina’s laughter. “We were just saying hi.”

She caught your eye as she said it, a polite but knowing smile on her lips. You realized with shock that she absolutely knew what was happening and was trying to make you feel better about it. You should just be grateful for the unexpected kindness, but something in you was suspicious. The Cassie you knew would’ve jumped at the chance to embarrass you, and she would’ve loved the way Rafe was treating you like you had the plague.

Plus, her taking pity on you, acknowledging the way Rafe had just hurt you, was somehow worse than her just being mean to you. You’d rather she go back to that.

“Y’all having a good trip?” She asked you and Rafe when the silence had lasted just a little too long.

You looked to Rafe, waiting for him to answer, begging him silently to say something that indicated that you were in fact having a good trip…together.

But he just said, “it’s been cool. Weather’s shit, though.”

“Yeah that’s what Sab told me, but I got a few days off my internship so I thought I’d come hang with y’all,” she said, eyes on you as she spoke, like she owed you an explanation.

“Well, welcome, then,” you smiled a polite smile that didn’t meet your eyes.

“You ready?” Sabrina asked, linking arms with Cassie, thick as thieves. 

“We’re going into town for some brunch if you guys want to join,” Cassie offered.

“That’s okay, I need to check on Carter,” you declined, all eyes turning to Rafe for his response.

“Uh yeah, I’m good here, th-thanks,” he stuttered, so awkward and shaky, a completely different person from the guy who was delivering monologues and sweeping you off your feet just a few hours ago.

Cassie just smiled politely once more as Sabrina pulled her into the car. As they drove off, you stood wordlessly with Rafe on the front walk, your chest completely hollow. You mustered some nerve and finally looked at him, head tilted, a completely unamused smile tugging your lips.

“Weather’s shit?” You repeated his words back to him.

“Look…” he began but didn’t finish the thought.

You just laughed humorlessly, shaking your head at him as you stormed off toward the house. Rafe stood frozen for a moment, kicking himself mentally and begging his brain to catch up with the moment, finally rushing off after you, but not able to before you slammed the door in his face.

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Carter and Topper exchanged nervous glances at the sound of you stomping into the house. 

They slowly and quietly settled on the top step, sitting forward to listen in as the front door opened and closed again, Rafe’s voice echoing through the house.

“Wait…” he said, following after you as you marched further into the house toward the kitchen.

You didn’t stop, “No, go ahead, you should go to brunch with her. Don’t let me keep you from a good time.”

“Wait, let’s just talk,” he pleaded.

“I’m too tired, Rafe,” you rejected him. “I can’t do this right now.”

“So you’re not even gonna let me explain?”

At the top of the steps, Carter and Topper simultaneously held their breath as they listened, both jumping as Kelce’s voice startled them, “what are we listening to?”

“Shhh,” Carter waved her hand at him, motioning for him to shut up.

Kelce plopped himself between them on the top step, shuffling a bit so they’d make room for him. He listened in, picking up your and Rafe’s raised voices quickly.

“Oh shit,” he barely whispered, “trouble in paradise already?”

“Dude shut up,” Topper cut him off.

Soon, Maddie, Tom and Jack joined the little huddle on the top step, each cluing in on the source of the entertainment in their own disruptive way before being shushed by the group and eventually sitting. You continued your argument with Rafe, completely unaware you were performing in front of a live studio audience.

“You don’t need to explain,” you told him, trudging down the front hall toward the kitchen. “I know exactly what just happened because it’s happened a thousand times before. What I don’t know is why I’m even surprised.”

“Come on,” he caught up to you, stopping you in your tracks as his large frame rounded you. “It is not the same as it used to be.”

“It’s exactly the same,” you side-stepped him, walking into the kitchen and dropping Carter’s keys on the counter. “I mean jesus Rafe, it’s the same fucking person! I can’t believe I’m here again, it’s like I’m having a nightmare where I’m back in high school. Next thing you know I’m gonna walk into homeroom and I realize I’m completely naked.”

“Sounds more like a dream to me,” he smirked, trying to flirt.

You just blinked back at him, your sharp eyes cutting straight through his head.

“Do you think this is funny?”

His smirk dropped, snatched right off his lips by your ice cold tone. Good. You’d been waiting years to wipe that shit eating grin off his face. 

Something new was rising in your chest, knocking out the embarrassment and sadness with a closed fist, a fury long buried coming back with a vengeance.

“I thought all that shit was behind us, over and done.” Rafe reached out towards you but you stopped him with your own rough grip, lowering his hand away from you and dropping it like he’d dropped yours.

“Oh, it’s fucking done alright, so fucking done,” you spat.

 “You’re really gonna let ten stupid seconds ruin everything that’s happened between us? You’re not even gonna give me the benefit of the doubt. You really think that little of me?”

“It’s literally only been two hours, and you’ve already lied to me once and pushed me away the second someone saw us. And you wonder why I'm having a hard time saying yes to being with you? It’s because I fucking can’t trust you, Rafe!”

“I don’t know what else I can do to show you I’m different,” he threw his hands up in exasperation. “This is so fucking unfair.”

“Are you being fucking serious right now?” You stepped towards him as you snapped at him. “You’re actually pissed at me?”

“Yeah, I am!” 

“Why?”

“Because I lost my best friend!”

Everyone on the top of the stairs winced, air sucked from the room when Rafe raised his voice at you. For all his flaws and mistreatment, he had never raised his voice at you before.

“Oh shit,” Kelce whispered.

“Shhh!” Carter and Maddie hushed him in unison, everyone leaning in a little closer to hear how you’d react. But you said nothing. They couldn’t see the widening of your eyes, jaw locked tight as you gave him space to follow up on his outburst.

“Do you really think it didn’t hurt me when you just up and stopped talking to me back then?” He took the space you gave him and slowly unpacked the hurt feelings he’d buried for years. “I know I was a dick, I shouldn’t have taken advantage of how you felt about me, I shouldn’t have strung you along. But when that shit went down senior year and you just ghosted me, I wanted to talk to you and make it right. I tried, but you blocked me out, you went from talking to me every day to radio silence without giving me a single explanation. That fucking hurt. And you’re doing the exact same thing now, not even giving me a chance to explain things. So yeah, I am a little pissed. I’m pissed that you’re just gonna throw it all away again over nothing.”

He waited for your response with baited breath, prepared for you to yell, or cry, or do something. But you gave him nothing, mouth closed in a tight line as you turned on your heel and walked further into the kitchen, lifting the coffee pot from its home and filling it in the sink.

He watched your back as you scooped the grounds into the filter and turned on the machine. Minutes passed and you remained silent, hands on the counter, looking out the big window towards the ocean while the coffee brewed one drop at a time.

Finally, after eight cups had dripped into the pot, you spoke.

“How was prom, by the way?” You turned to face him, the edge of the marble countertop digging into your waist as you leaned back against it, hands crossed in hostility over your chest. “I never asked.”

Rafe’s gaze fell from you almost instantly. He didn’t have to ask why you were bringing this up, the ‘hell hath no fury’ look on your face dragging the memory forth from its carefully hidden spot in the back of his brain. Nothing made him feel like a jackass quite like that memory, and based on the mocking curve at the corner of your lips, you knew it.

The memory used to keep you up at night. 

For a full year after it happened, it was like a fire poker bent into the shape of regret and shame was branding your heart over and over. 

Now, the burn was healed over, still calloused and red at the edges, but you’d done your best to cover the scar tissue in the healing balms of self-love and lots and lots of therapy. Still, it was the moment in your life you were the least proud of.

You’d thought it was gonna be you. Really, earnestly, completely delusionally, you believed when he asked for your help with his grand prom-posal that it was all a playful ruse to ask you to be his date. You stayed up all night, decorating three different poster boards with glitter glue so he could pick the one he liked best. You bought out all the battery-powered candles at Michael’s - he said he’d pay you back, he never did. You waited with him in the park until the sun set, giddy with the hope that he’d drop the ruse and pop the question any minute.

“What will you do if ‘she’ says no?” You attempted to flirt.

“I guess I’d just have to take you.”

Every muscle in his body flinched at the memory and the white hot regret he felt every time it replayed in his head.

The kid who said those words was such an asshole. Standing here in the kitchen, looking down at you, the love of his goddamn life, and facing the possibility that he might lose you for good, he wanted to ring the idiot’s neck.

Because he hadn’t asked you. He made you watch while he asked her. And he didn’t even give you a ride home from the park.

Fuck, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he was you, either.

Rafe felt about two feet tall, looking back at you with absolutely nothing to say. He was relieved for a second when you opened your mouth to speak first, until he heard the words.

“You don’t understand. The voice in the back of my head, the one I’ve spent years trying to silence, the one that tells me I’m not enough, that I’ll never be enough…it’s your voice, Rafe.”

He grasped desperately for a reply, but there were no words in the English language that made that statement any less devastating.

“Maybe that’s not fair,” you continued before he could come up with anything, “but I don’t think I have control over that. I don’t know how to undo it, if it can be undone. So those ten seconds that just happened out there? They’re  not nothing to me. When you dropped my hand at the sight of her, I felt like I was that stupid teenage girl again, giving my whole heart to the one person who knows how to break it. Blind and foolish and desperate for you to notice her. I don’t like that girl.”

You made it through the whole speech with a steady voice, up until the last sentence. Your voice cracked on those words, your heart doing the same as you pictured your younger self. The one who would sit on her bed for hours, rereading the texts she sent him and praying he’d reply.

Thinking about that version of yourself, you weren’t sure if you wanted to hug her or slap her. Surely, she’d hit you right back if she saw what you were doing now, potentially pushing away the boy she loved more than anything, finally having him within your grasp and letting him slip right through.

At the top of the stairs, unbeknownst to you, Carter was picturing that girl, too. She would roll her eyes at you back then, using sarcastic comments like “are you sure Rafe even knows how to read?” to mask her truer concern; that he could but he wouldn’t, and the heart you wore on your sleeve would end up crushed again. Even now, she couldn’t protect it, couldn’t save it from reaching out to this boy who did nothing but break it.

Frustration welled inside her, the absolute powerlessness to put an end to this cycle that hurts you feeling like a dark cloud over her head. The anger manifested into hot, watery tears gathering on her lash line. Without permission, one slipped through, rolling down her cheek slowly.

Topper caught the whole thing, and despite their fight and his resolve to freeze her out until she apologized, he couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out and stroking her cheek softly, wiping the tear away with a gentle swipe of his thumb.

They shared a look so full of unspoken words and tender emotions that they almost forgot about the conversation in the kitchen, until Rafe’s voice cut through the moment and pulled them from their silent reconciliation.

“Are you okay?” He asked you after you’d been silent for nearly a minute, trying desperately to compose yourself.

“Yes, that's all just a lot. I’m processing,” you sniffled.

“Take your time,” he said, pulling out one of the high back stools from the counter and motioning for you to sit in it.

Your body was so exhausted, even your stubborn anger at him couldn’t stop you from accepting the offer. You slumped on the plush stool, folding your arms on the counter and resting your chin on them.

“How do you like your eggs?” Rafe asked.

“Is that a pick-up line?” 

“Nope, just a question,” he said as he opened the high cupboard and pulled out a frying pan.

You tried to remind yourself you should reject his offer to feed you, you should storm out, you should tell him where he can put his frying pan…but you were hungry. And so tired.

“Sunny side up,” you answered.

He nodded and got to work cooking you breakfast, eggs and bacon sizzling on the stove, Rafe close by with a spatula in hand, silent as he stirred and flipped. You rested your head on your folded arms, eyes half-closed and brain sleepy, watching him. 

If you blocked out the last twenty minutes, you could pretend this morning was your real life, could let yourself imagine it really was all this simple and pleasant and sweet; he’d cook you breakfast, you’d make him coffee, and you’d kiss until the sun rose.

At the top of the stairs, Kelce stood and started descending, before Carter reached up and grabbed his arm.

“What are you doing?” She whispered.

“I’m hungry!” He whined.

“You can’t go down there,” Maddie scolded him, “give them some space.”

“Are we just gonna stay up here all day?” Tom complained as he and Jack stood to join Kelce’s crusade into the kitchen.

“Everybody sit down!” Topper whisper-yelled. “Give them five fucking minutes, you’ll all survive. You can fuck off back to your rooms if you want but no one’s going down there.”

Carter couldn’t help the heart eyes she made at him, surprised and delighted by his show of aggression in your defense.

Kelce groaned as he backed back down, Tom rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up as he trudged down the hall back to his room, Jack following with a huff.

“Kelce, I have a granola bar in my purse, c’mon,” Maddie offered, leading him towards her own door.

Alone again, Topper and Carter looked at each other for a long, quiet moment.

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.

“I know,” he mouthed back.

She scooted towards him, nuzzling into his side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple.

Downstairs, Rafe was done with your meal, scooping it onto a plate and sliding it to you across the counter.

“Thank you,” you sat up and began nibbling at a slice of bacon.

Rafe took the stool next to you with his own plate of food. You sat in silence for a while, only the sound of forks scraping against porcelain and the occasional “can you pass the salt?” between you.

Between bites, you rested your head on your arm again, nearly falling asleep.

“I’m so tired,” you mumbled sleepily.

“It’s been a long twenty-four hours,” Rafe agreed, taking a sip of his coffee.

“That’s an understatement,” you snorted, sitting up again and finishing the last bite of your eggs.

“What about…the next twenty-four hours?” He asked quietly.

You took a deep breath, the smile falling from your face as you considered the question underneath his question. You didn’t answer him right away, hopping down from the stool and collecting your plate and his, carrying them to the sink. Rafe was quick behind you, arm reaching around and pulling the dishes from your hands to lay them in the sink. His hand rested on your waist, turning you to face him, pulling you in. Reluctantly, and without returned tenderness, you let him.

“Rafe, I can’t…” you said sadly.

“Please just talk to me,” he pleaded, hands running up your arms and resting on your shoulders. You shook your head, blinking away fresh tears as you pulled away from him.

“It hurts too much, Rafe,” your voice cracked. “As great as the last few days have been, you can’t see that being close to you hurts me. I worked so hard to get over you. So this isn’t me throwing it all away, this is me protecting myself. Protecting what I’ve spent years rebuilding.”

“So what, that's it then? You’re just gonna go back to school and pretend this never happened?” The pain in his voice was palpable, and you cursed the part of you that wanted to reach out and make him feel better.

“I don’t know, Rafe,” a small tear slipped through, gliding slowly down your cheek.

“You’re just gonna stop talking to me, stop thinking about me?” He continued desperately.

You looked up at him finally, searching his face, nodding sadly.

“I’ve done it before.”

Hurt flashed in his crystal blue eyes, flinching like your words had burned him. “You didn’t…you don’t…think about me?”

“No,” you told him honestly, another tear joining the one before it. “Never. Because if I let myself think about you, I would’ve fallen apart. I’m not strong enough, I would’ve run to you, and every time I did that before, you’d let me down.”

“What about yesterday? What about this morning? Just think about the beach, everything was so good, it can be that way now…”

He reached out and cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing over the tears as he pulled you in toward him, kissing you out of sheer desperation. Like maybe if you tasted his lips, it’d transport you both back in time, back to the beach, back when he’d done and said everything right. 

You allowed him to take you there for just a second, before the incident on the front walk flashed in your mind again, the pain of rejection like a knife to your gut. You pulled away from him quickly, side stepping him and moving to the other side of the kitchen, creating as much distance between you as possible.

“No, no, you can’t just kiss me and act like what just happened with Cassie didn’t happen,” you shook your head rapidly, wiping your tear stained streaks with the backs of your hands. “I can’t do this right now, I need some time to think.”

It required fighting every impulse he had, but he didn’t push, didn’t close the space between you, didn’t try to regain the control he was so used to having. He just sighed deeply and nodded, eyes low.

“Okay, well let me know when you’re done…thinking.”

With one last longing look at you, he stepped away to the basement steps, stopping at the top and turning halfway toward you.

“Oh and that girl? The one who gave me her heart? For what it’s worth, I like her. Always have.”

With that, he was gone, the door clicking softly behind him.

Carter and Topper could hear you approach the bottom of the steps. Carter stood first, fully ready to greet you and grill you on everything that had happened since you last spoke. Topper could see all her questions and comments written on her face. He grabbed her hand and squeezed gently, stopping her before she marched down the stairs towards you. She looked at him in surprise but understood quickly as he gave her a slight shake of his head, whispering, “give her some space.”

Reluctantly, she nodded, allowing him to lead her quietly down the hall and into his room.

Your footsteps were heavy on the stairs, body aching. Your brain was so fried you couldn’t even pick one thing from the morning to focus on, like the part of your brain that processes events was temporarily out of order. So you stopped trying to think and just let your feet carry you to your bed, crawling under the covers in your clothes, falling quickly into a restless slumber.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

In your dreams, you were back in the kitchen with him, shoulder to shoulder in comfortable silence as you did the dishes together. Rafe washed and you dried. 

Only, it wasn’t the beach house kitchen, it was one you’d never been in before. And in that dream-state way of knowing something you don’t actually know, you were sure it was a kitchen the two of you shared, sometime in the distant, unwritten future.

(chapter 9: part one)

a/n: I'm so sorry, I had to do it.......also the prom thing may or may not be based on a true story and I may or may not have cried writing it....

also I’m sick and tired so I didn’t edit much sorry for typos!

please note: the taglist for this series is closed. For updates when I post, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs <3

friendly reminder that writers live off of reblogs, don’t forget to feed your faves! 💘

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓭 💕

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓿𝓷𝓽𝔂𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓫𝓰𝓯

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 + ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘 - 𝓝𝓸 𝓢𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓯𝓲𝓬 𝓞𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓻

ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝓢𝓶𝓾𝓽

ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝓕𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯

❄️ 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷’ 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 | 𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟚𝟝 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

When you're getting hit on by a random guy at your local college bar “boyfriend” Rafe comes in to save the day.

❄️ 𝓐𝓹𝓻è𝓼 𝓢𝓴𝓲 | 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵’𝚜𝚂𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟚𝟜 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Your sister’s boyfriend is so hot… A family trip to Breckenridge leaves plenty of tension between you and Rafe

❄️ 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷 𝓘𝓬𝓮 | 𝙽𝙷𝙻𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚆𝙰𝙶! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟚𝟛 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

NHL!Rafe gets caught smiling at the Ice Girl after scoring a goal on his way back to the bench; his winning night just turned into a loss—now he needs to make it right

❄️ 𝓣𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓵𝔂 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | 𝙽𝙷𝙻𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟚𝟚 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Rafe is always very private about his job and business dealings. After being gone on a trip, he wants nothing more than to spend the night with you. The two of you go on a date, looking at Christmas lights and discussing the future.

❄️ 𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓷 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 | 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚂𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤t

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟚𝟙 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

The premise is you and Rafe had been flirting for a while, but between obligations, Greek life, and finals, you haven't been able to get together until tonight ♥️

❄️ 𝓑𝓻𝓪𝓽 𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼 | 𝙳𝙸𝙻𝙵!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 & 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔𝙱𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟙 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Hooking up with your best friend’s dad only to flirt with Topper at the holiday party, what could go wrong? Rafe will let you know (<- part of the “mr cameron” au but it will be written to be read alone)

❄️ 𝓜𝔂 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵 | 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟞 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Ward and Rose aren’t your fans, but Rafe puts them in their place.

❄️ 𝓐 𝓝𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓼𝓮 𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼 | 𝙱𝚘𝚍𝚢𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟙𝟘 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

I got the idea for this story after watching Sabrina Carpenter’s Christmas Special! ♥️ The premise is a popstar!reader who wants the attention of her handsome bodyguard, who seemingly has one interest: keeping her safe.

❄️ 𝓖𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵 | 𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟙𝟛 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

After a few drinks at a hockey party, Rafe gets teased about what a good girl you are, but Rafe knows the truth 💋

❄️ 𝓤𝓷𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓭 | 𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝙳𝙸𝙻𝙵!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟛 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Rafe catches you stressed and cramming for a test at the end of a long night babysitting his kids, and he wants to help you unwind

❄️ 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓕**𝓴 𝓲𝓼 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓶𝓪𝓼, 𝓐𝓷𝔂𝔀𝓪𝔂? | 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟡 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Rafe catches a buzzing in your nightstand and he can't help but take a peek

❄️ 𝓐𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓮 | 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔𝙽𝙷𝙻!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙰𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟙𝟜 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Journalist!Reader, Rafe’s ex, interviews him and the other captain ahead of Friday night's big game. Rafe can't help but see the spark between them, and he wants to let her know who she belongs to

❄️ 𝓒𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 | 𝚃𝚘𝚙𝙶𝚞𝚗!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟟 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

You’re missing your boyfriend, Rafe, so you open one of your favorite videos of the two of you while you play with yourself, but you can’t quite hear it…

❄️ 𝓚𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓜𝔂 𝓗𝓪𝓽 𝓞𝓷 | 𝙲𝚘𝚠𝚋𝚘𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟙𝟟 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

After a messy breakup with a bartender at a rival bar, Cowboy!Rafe needs to find a new place to grab a beer. Turns out you were the sunshine he needed all along. This is also loosely based on my favorite TikTok edit LINK ♥️

❄️ 𝓔𝓷𝓰𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 | 𝙽𝙷𝙻𝙵𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚌é!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙵𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚌é!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟚 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Celebrating your engagement with fiancé Rafe

❄️ 𝓑𝓮𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓼 | 𝙼𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙾𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟜 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

You know it’s wrong, you’d break Shoupe’s heart, but who can deny Rafe Cameron?

❄️ 𝓣𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓛𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓼 | 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟚𝟘 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Professor!Rafe has been distant and now after cancelled plans you want to know what the hell is going on.

❄️ 𝓗𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓓𝓪𝓽𝓮 | 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟙𝟚 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Rafe Cameron is nothing but trouble in class. When you see he’s up for a date night auction for his frat house; you can’t help but make a large anonymous donation, stealing him away for the night so you can have him all to yourself. Maybe he’ll finally learn his lesson.

❄️ 𝓡𝓲𝓿𝓪𝓵𝓼 | 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙰𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟝 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Lovers to enemies to lovers… A rough week between you and Rafe gets rougher after he catches you talking to someone else.

❄️ 𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓢𝓾𝓰𝓪𝓻 | 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟠 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Baking cookies with Rafe. You and Rafe have been best friends for a while, and your relationship has become more romantic, blurring the lines between

❄️ 𝓒𝓪𝓼𝓾𝓪𝓵 | 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟙𝟙 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

Today you learned you were “casual,” those words never left Rafe’s lips before until your back was turned; you also learned Ruthie can't fight worth a shit. Now, you and Rafe need to have a little talk.

❄️ 𝓖𝓲𝓯𝓽 𝓔𝔁𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮 | 𝙾𝙵!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟙𝟝 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

You’ve always had a crush on your neighbor rafe but were too shy to make a move. When his package is dropped off at your door by mistake, you decide to make your move and learn a little more about the hot man next door.

❄️ 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚃𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚛’𝚜𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

*part of the “Sorry, Top” AU — writen to be read alone.

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟙𝟠 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

You are dating Topper but hook up with Rafe secretly. You and Rafe had agreed that you mean nothing to each other, using one another to get off only, but the more time he spends with you, the more his feelings have grown. You have no idea because he’s so adamant about the fact that he’s using you. So, how would you know? Topper let Rafe know that the two of you had finally had sex, and between that and seeing you together at the Island Club Christmas party, he’s about ready to crash out

❄️ 𝓒𝓸𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓾𝓽 𝓒𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓟𝓲𝓮 | 𝙾𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

*part of the “Milkshake” AU — writen to be read alone.

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟙𝟡 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

You hooked up with your best friend Rafe a few months back. He admitted to being obsessed with you and was even willing to pay for you to be intimate because he was so desperate. Since then, you have been hooking up, and he promised he would leave Sofia, but he hasn't yet, and you're getting impatient. When you show up for Christmas dinner at the Camerons with your ex Kelce, you can't help but smile while Rafe squirms.

❄️ 𝓕𝓵𝔂𝓫𝓸𝔂 | 𝚃𝚘𝚙𝙶𝚞𝚗!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚊!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝜗𝜚 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝟙𝟚/𝟙𝟞 | 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜

TopGun!Rafe x Ballerina!Reader have been dating for years. Rafe is stationed across the country on the West Coast, and the reader has landed her dream role in the New York City Ballet, playing The Rose Queen in The Nutcracker on the East Coast. A running joke between the two is Rafe asking the reader if she’s ready to get married yet… that joke is starting not to feel like such a joke anymore. The reader isn't ready to give up her dream.

𝓑𝓸𝓷𝓾𝓼: 𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓸𝓷 𝓟𝓛𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓛𝓲𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓻𝔂

made with @rafesthroatbaby 🩷

[boneblushed]

And, boy, you got her

synopsis Rafe’s in charge of the pledges during Rush Week. Hazing isn’t a thing. Making you feel so high school is.

wc 3.6K

a/n omgggg Euro Trip Rafe <3333 I was living on pledgetok last week and just couldn’t not write something about it

“Holy shit,” Noah mutters, surveying the crowd over his red cup, “I swear they get scrawnier every single year.”

Rafe nods gravely, taking a pull of his beer. “It’s fucking grim.”

“Like — fuck, look at those two.” Noah gestures toward the shaded veranda, a fresh coat of gloss making its balustrades shine. Huddled in one corner, attempting to take up as little space as possible, two boys donning UNC merch survey the crowd in tandem. “We weren’t that fucking scraggy as freshman, were we?”

“You two weren’t,” Kelce snorts, coming up behind them. Topper brings up his rear, mid-bite of his loaded hotdog. “Thornton definitely was though.”

“Oi!” Topper protests, his words garbled by half chewed sausage. “S’wasn’t that bad. C’mon.” He turns to Rafe then, swallowing his mouthful. “But seriously, you locked in any potentials?”

Rafe furrows his brow thoughtfully, looking back over Delta Chi’s yard. Unsurprisingly, it’s far too early to say. Though the barbecue that they’re hosting is a good way for pledges to mingle, it isn’t exactly hazing material; they’re going to have to get creative.

“Maybe,” he replies finally, shrugging. “We’ll just have to see I guess.”

He tips back his red cup again, swallowing the last dregs of beer before acquiescing. As he’s about to announce his need for a refill, a few pledges sidle up to their group, looking hopeful.

Not overtly, of course. Painstakingly hiding their eagerness behind an armour of insouciance.

“Rafe,” the tallest of the three greets, handing him another red cup. The golden liquid inside it brims to the surface, its white foam dissolving in mocking. “Hey, bro. You need another?”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, hiding a grin. “Shit. Table service already?”

The boy grins in tandem, looking a little sheepish. “Big fan, man. I’m Dylan.” He motions at the two guys on either side of him, wearing matching squints and backwards caps. “This is Rahul and Xav, we’re all here from Trinity.”

“Durham and Chapel Hill?” Noah enquires, whistling approvingly when they nod. “Fuck, we used to love having away games there. Those Trin cheerleaders…”

“Haha, shit, what was that chic’s name again?” Rafe asks then, a pull of mirth as he turns to Noah. “The one you messed around with in junior year?”

“Blake,” Noah answers, groaning in a mock-wistful sort of way. “They didn’t make ‘em like her at the Academy.”

Rafe snorts, sending the pledges a sage glance. “Nah. They made ‘em better.”

Noah raises his eyebrows, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, so we are allowed to objectify your girl then, Cameron?”

“Damn, so you’re tied down?” Xavier pipes up, his voice gravelly and low on purpose. Overtly masculine, like he’s trying hard to be red-blooded. “Your girl doesn’t mind you partying?”

Rafe frowns. “Why would she mind?”

“Uh,” Xavier balks, pulling at the bill of his backwards cap, “shit. I don’t know… like, doesn’t she get pissed that you’re constantly around sorority girls?”

“HA —” Topper laughs, and then he falters, thwarted by Rafe’s warning glower. “Uh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just say Cameron doesn’t give her any reasons to be suspicious.”

“Because he’s obsessed with her,” Noah adds, unperturbed by Rafe’s expression. He pauses then, an amusing idea popping into his head. “Which means…” he continues, returning Rafe’s glare with a trust me one of his own, “you guys should be too.”

Rafe doesn’t trust him. Like, at all. He sends him a bewildered look, unsure where he’s going with this. “White — what?”

Noah ignores him. He downs his beer and crushes the red cup in his hand, deftly aiming it at the nearest bag of trash. “So,” he says, eyeing the three pledges with interest. “How serious are you guys about rushing Delt?”

“Pretty serious, bro,” Rahul answers, looking to his friends for support. “Think we got a shot?”

Noah throws his arm around Rafe’s neck, his strong bicep taut as he shoots them a grin. “Depends, man, I might know how we could figure that out though.” He begins to steer Rafe away from them, sending one last, faux-somber look over his shoulder. “Be right back, yeah?”

Rafe, whose bewilderment is quickly giving way curiosity, allows himself to be marshalled out of earshot without complaints.

He shrugs Noah off of him once they’re on the verandah, his features ever-bemused as he turns toward him. “The fuck was that about?”

“Bro, I know exactly how we’re going to haze these motherfuckers,” Noah replies, his voice lilted with mirth. “You know… without breaking any rules.”

The bewildered expression on Rafe’s face doesn’t acquiesce. “Okay… how?”

“Instead of getting them to be our bitches,” he answers, a mischievous grin making home on his features. “We’re going to get them to be our girlfriends’ bitches.”

Rafe frowns. “Bro. What?”

“Cameron, it’s perfect.” He swipes Rafe’s beer from his hand and takes a generous pull. “What do frat guys hate more than being called scrawny as fuck?”

“Uh. Doing assignments?” Rafe answers blankly, still frowning. He doesn’t have it in him to think too hard about Noah’s profferance. He’s on hour two of manning this boring event, hour four since he bid you farewell, and all Rafe can bear to think about right now is the imminent taste of your peach-scented lips.

Noah shakes his head. “No, dumbass. Being called a simp.”

“Wrong,” Rafe answers, “I don’t mind that shit at all.”

“You’re the exception,” Noah replies matter-of-factly. “You and Y/N have always been the exception. C’mon, I’m talking about us,” he places his palm over his breastbone solemnly, “mere mortals.”

Rafe narrows his eyes. “Fuck off. How would that even work?”

“We…” Noah pauses to think, a slightly furrow to his brow, “alright, I got it. We assign the pledges to our girlfriends, one by one. Give them a week to make a good impression — you know, carry their bags, buy them flowers, all that sentimental crap you love.”

“You really think the guys’ll agree to this?” Rafe asks, sounding reluctant. “I mean… I don’t know if I’m alright with a bunch of idiots holding doors for my girl.”

“But you’re an idiot that holds a door for your girl,” Noah answers, not missing a beat.

“Fuck off, White.”

“I’m serious. It’ll be funny. And look… if you’re worried about Y/N, I know she’ll find it adorable as fuck.”

Rafe shakes his head. “No way. She didn’t find high-school me adorable.”

Noah raises his eyebrows skeptically. “You’d be surprised, man. Besides, these guys aren’t going to be like high-school you. High-school you was a douchebag.”

“A douchebag who got the girl.”

“A douchebag who got the girl after he stopped acting like a douchebag.” Noah smirks then. “A douchebag who’d give all these fuckers a run for their money if he was pledging Delt this year.”

Rafe grins in tandem, stealing his beer back to take a big swig. “Alright, shit, alright. Harmless shit though, right? Chivalry and all that?”

“Harmless as hell,” Noah agrees. “C’mon. You really think any of these guys has the balls to make a pass at one of our girls?”

“Easy for you to say, White. You don’t fucking have a girl.”

Noah frowns. “What d’you mean? Aren’t we going halves on Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Noah,” Rafe groans, almost spitting out his mouthful of beer. “If Y/N heard the shit you said when she wasn’t around, she’d probably kill you.”

“Nah,” Noah replies, seemingly unperturbed. “She loves me.”

“Well,” Rafe says grimly, crushing his own empty cup in his head. “She might do now, but she sure as hell won’t by the end of this week.”

—

The first time it happens, you’re understandably perplexed.

You’re en-route to your 9AM, bag strap denting your left shoulder, when a stranger falls into your step and swipes it from your figure. It’s a motion so quick and deft you initially think you’re getting mugged.

As you double back in bewilderment, he proffers, “you alright with this?”

“Uh.” You balk. “What?”

“Your bag,” he answers, readjusting it on his own shoulder. He seems earnest. Nervous, even. “It looked heavy. I can carry it to class for you, if you want?”

You allow a pause to take him in.

“No, I’m…” another pause, more of his demeanour on display. Backwards cap, crisp white polo shirt, smile lines exposing the ghost of a grin on his face. A familiar grin, the kind that pulls a soft, maudlin feeling from your ribcage. “Look, if you’re trying to hit on me —”

“No, no,” he interrupts quickly, his eyes widening in a panic. “Shit — no, don’t tell Cameron I’m hitting on you. I’m just…”

“Wait a minute,” your eyes narrow accusatorially, because of course he’s behind this chivalrous display, “you know my boyfriend?”

The stranger grimaces sheepishly. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Explain.”

“It’s… uh… well — basically, I’m pledging Delt,” he answers haltingly, self effacement juxtaposing his frat boy exterior. “Rafe’s asked us to be all gentlemanly and shit for pledge week, I don’t know. To you guys, I mean. Like… the current frat member’s girls?”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “No he hasn’t.”

“Shit.” He looks far more nervous now that he did five minutes ago. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No,” you grumble, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “No he did not.”

Rafe’s on speed dial. He picks up on the first ring, the way he always does for you.

“Hey baby,” his gravelly timbre crackles through the phone, the low hum of frat house chatter audible in the background. “What’s up?”

“Don’t even. You know what’s up Rafael.”

A pause. When Rafe speaks again, his voice is quick and placating. “It was Noah’s idea.”

“Of course it was.”

“Dylan’s not playing up, is he?”

You raise your eyebrows at the stranger then, assessing him faux-suspiciously. “No way. He’s doing a better job than you ever did in high school.”

“Woah woah woah,” Rafe replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “That fucker’s not calling you dream girl or something, is he?”

“Worse. He’s being respectful of my boundaries.”

“Oh shit. I fucking knew this was a bad idea.”

You shake your head in exasperation, trying not to laugh. The poor stranger’s still standing there at attention, your leather bag looking ridiculous on his arm. “Rafe. Tell me he’s the only one.”

“He’s one…” Rafe starts slowly, sounding sheepish, “of three. Four, counting me.” In the background, you hear Noah pipe up and add, “five, Cameron. How could you forget me?”

“You’re un-fucking-believable, Noah White,” you shout through the phone.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Noah sings, and then he groans, no doubt shoved to the side by his indignant best friend. It’s Rafe on the phone again, voice sweet and thick as molasses as he says, “they’ll behave, baby, and make your life easier in the process. I promise.”

“What?” You accuse, fighting back a smile. “Like you did in high school?”

“Fuck no,” he replies, the grin on his face audible. “They’ll be nothing like I was, sweetheart.”

“What?” You tease. “Absolutely insufferable?”

“And absolutely in love with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “How can you be so sure?”

“They’re under strict instruction. Have a shiner waiting for them if they pull something funny.”

Another exasperated laugh bubbles out of you, and you begin walking forward again, motioning at the boy named Dylan to follow in your step. “Right. So the boundaries are on purpose, are they?”

“The respect, too. No being inappropriate and charming at the same time.”

“And why not?” You ask faux-indignantly. “What if I like being objectified?”

“Can’t have you falling in love with them, can I?”

“Hey,” you argue, frowning stubbornly. “That is not what made me fall in love with you.”

“It isn’t?”

“Well,” you balk, “not solely that.”

“You’re fucking sexy,” he recites devotedly, almost yells, and you can hear the collective groan of his frat brothers in the background. “Are you wearing those Lululemon pants right now? Point is, I’m thinking about your ass in those Lululemon pants right now.”

“Rafe, I was fucking kidding. Stop.”

“No you weren’t.” You know he’s right; you can picture that stupid smirk on his face. It makes your cheeks warm. Asshole. “You’re blushing now, aren’t you?”

“Anyway.”

“Anyway,” Rafe agrees. “No funny business, alright? Just lots of good deeds.”

Good deeds. You suppose you could get used to good deeds, the embarrassment of attention notwithstanding.

You let out a defeated sigh, halting in front of your 9AM class. “You so, so owe me.”

“I so, so love you,” Rafe replies, and it makes your pulse leap; you’ll never get used to this feeling. “See you later, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Love you.”

Dylan waits until you’ve ended the call before saying farewell, dutifully handing your leather bag back to you and giving you a mock salute. The way he does it, all sheepish and genuine with a charming smile on his face, makes your heart twinge in a junior year of high-school sort of way. You’re feeling sentimental. It’s sweet.

You’re reminded of Rafe before he was yours, stumbling over himself to win your favour. Confusing chivalry with courting, objectifying you in the name of flirting.

Insufferable, but sweet nonetheless. You digress.

—

The next time it happens, you’re ambushed at your favourite cafe.

A dutiful Delta Phi pledge has already queued up and purchased you coffee, handing it over to you with a blushing bouquet of tulips.

You raise your eyebrows at him questioningly. “Is that…?”

“Uh, an oat iced coffee with vanilla?” He asks, sounding nervous. “I asked Cameron for your order.”

“Didn’t ask me about pastries, though,” a voice behind you adds, rough and familiar with a sweetness around the edges. Rafe circles your waist with ease and pulls you into his chest, sponging a soft kiss to your temple before handing you a brown bag.

A glossy, Daily Bread sticker shines on its exterior proudly.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look up at him expectantly. “Tell me you didn’t drive back home for a single croissant.”

“I didn’t drive back home for a single croissant,” Rafe replies. He grins then, looking that same, sheepish genuine that pulls a maudlin feeling. “I drove back home for twenty.”

“Rafe. Why?”

“Because you like Daily Bread,” he replies matter-of-factly, like it’s obvious.

You shake your head in exasperation, tip-toeing up to press a quick kiss to his lips. It becomes less quick against better judgement. He tastes like spearmint gum and cold brew, the hand he has held to your waist tightening ever so slightly. Slipping under your shirt, massaging the soft skin he finds there expertly, discreetly. Too much for 8am on a Wednesday morning, sans coffee. Your face feels on fire. You pull away in a hurry.

Meanwhile, the freshman pledge balks at the exchange, looking out of place.

Rafe frowns bemusedly at your diffidence, only clocking the reason when you nod over at him.

“I’ll walk her over Ben,” he says, dismissing him. “You’re off the hook, bro.”

“Shit.” The boy named Ben grimaces; he needs to get his hours in, and doesn’t deem this a fair ambush. He scrambles for an excuse. “Right. Can I still give her the flowers?”

“Of course you can,” you beam, accepting them gratefully. You look up at Rafe then, asking, “And if I want to walk with Benjamin?”

Rafe grins down at you, disbelieving. “Do you, baby?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” you say, wriggling out of his grasp. “He got me flowers.”

Rafe falters, his eyes widening in surprise. “Sweetheart, I got you a croissant.”

“Ben got me a coffee,” you hedge. “And flowers.”

“Y/N,” he placates.

“Rafael,” you echo, unperturbed by his exasperation. You take a sip your coffee. “I’ll see you later, okay? Ben’s ticking off a good deed this morning.”

Poor Ben looks helpless, taking the brunt of Rafe’s glare as you motion for him to hold the door for you.

“C’mon Ben, we’re going to be late.”

“But…” Ben pauses, his eyes flitting to Rafe nervously. “This is fine, right?”

Rafe sighs, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth in defeat. “Yeah, bro. You’re good.” He looks to you, then. “You’re unbelievable.”

You smile sweetly. “I’m wearing the Lulu leggings.”

“Oh I noticed,” Rafe replies, his blue eyes falling down your figure in slow, reverent paces. “It’s why I want to be the one holding the door for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Men only want one thing.”

Rafe grins. “Yeah. You.”

—

By the end of the week, you’re more used to the chivalry than you’re willing to admit.

You’ve enjoyed free iced lattes and filled your dorm with gorgeous bouquets, no door left unopened and no walk to class left unescorted. And really, every pledge you’ve come across has been pleasant and unassuming, albeit absolutely terrified of Rafe and therefore extra obliging on instinct.

They’ve even offered to do favours for you, got you into sought after Pilates classes and done last minute grocery runs on your behalf. It’s put you in this constant state of mild exasperation, like you can’t believe you’re worthy of this much love and chivalry.

It’s exactly the way you felt back in high-school with Rafe, and this revelation pulls lots of funny feelings from your stomach, from your chest. Feelings you’ve forgotten that are all yours and all his. Because it’s strange, having someone other than Rafe taking care of you. (Or Noah.) It’s strange because it makes you realise just how much he adored you back in the day.

These emotions come to a head at the pledge week closing bash, Delta Phi lit up with fluorescent lights in technicolour. Inebriation ensues, beer pong follows, and an impromptu DJ deck plays endless songs with heavy bass.

Rafe Cameron has you pulled close, as always, the taut muscle of his forearm pressing heat to your exposed waist. You’re a few drinks down and hyperaware of his proximity, ankles touching, thighs too, torsos close with your head resting on his shoulder.

“I think I like Dylan the best,” you announce suddenly.

“Yeah?” Rafe asks, kneading your skin absentmindedly.

You nod. “He’s sweet. Told me all about his girl back home.”

Rafe grins then, shaking his head bemusedly. “You’re such a sucker for love, sweetheart.”

“Hey!” You glare up at him faux-incensed, looking accusatory. “So are you!”

“Shhhh,” Rafe murmurs playfully. “Not so loud, you’ll fuck up my street cred.”

You scoff. “Since when do you care about street cred?”

“Shit, you’re right,” Rafe agrees easily, leaning down to draw your lips in for a kiss. He’s all patchouli and musk, beer on his tongue and unchaste intentions in his touch. When he pulls away, his lips are still an inch from yours, his voice rougher than it was a second ago, “I don’t care. Like, at fucking all.”

“Good,” Noah snorts from behind him. “‘Cause you never had any to begin with, bro.”

“There you are,” you say then, eyeing Noah over Rafe’s shoulder. There’s a mock accusatory expression on your face, softened by mirth and the alcohol on your lips. “Have you been hiding from me, White?”

Noah grins sheepishly, taking a pull of his beer. “Maybe.”

You narrow your eyes. “Tell me. When did you become worse than Rafael?”

“I didn’t become worse!” Noah insists. “He just became better. You know, after he got the girl.”

You make a face. “Smooth.”

“Hey,” Noah raises his arms in surrender, looking faux-somber, “someone’s gotta teach the next generation, don’t they? I’m committed to their education.” He raises his eyebrows then, a mischievous glint in his eye. “C’mon, don’t act like you didn’t love it.”

Rafe grins. “She totally fucking loved it.”

You aim a glare at the pair of them, failing miserably at hiding your amusement. “So maybe I didn’t mind it. Sue me.”

“Of course you loved it,” Noah says, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side. “You love Cameron, don’t you?”

You narrow your eyes. “Opinions vary.”

“You love me?” Noah tries.

“You fucking wish.”

“Everyone fucking wishes,” Rafe says then, throwing his arm around you too, your figure wedged between the pair of them. Frat boy sandwich, you think tiredly. If high-school you could see you now, you’re pretty sure she’d have an aneurysm. “Especially when you’re in Lululemon.”

“Rafe.”

“I’m kidding. Not really. They all love you, you know that, yeah?”

You look up at him questioningly. “The pledges?”

“Uh huh,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows at you. “This is what I was afraid of, you know.”

“What?” You ask, lifting yours in tandem.

“Everyone falling in love with you, like I did in high school.”

You scrunch up your nose at him, your cheeks warming in diffidence. “No one’s fallen in love with me, don’t be silly.”

“I have,” Noah pipes up unhelpfully.

“Shut up, Noah. I saw you talking to Georgia just before.”

Noah grins, pulling away and offering you a mock salute. “Guilty as charged.” He turns to survey the crowd, spotting her figure on the fairy-light lit porch. “Speaking of…”

And he’s gone before you’re able to tease him any further, leaving Rafe to guide you out of his side and into his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, his hands exerting a warm, steady pressure into the curve of your waist.

“As I was saying,” you continue, frowning up at him playfully. “No one’s fallen in love with me.”

Rafe’s unconvinced. His gaze skates down your figure again, a tortured groan falling from his throat. “Have you seen you, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, face hot and self conscious. “And even if they have,” you add, “it doesn’t matter.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows. “It doesn’t?”

“No way. Because I’m in love with you, not any of them.”

Rafe grins then, a devastatingly handsome look on his face. “I’ll never get used to hearing that.”

“I’ll never get used to saying it.”

[rafes-slut]

hi! can you do one where its like dummy reader and overprotective rafe? They are at a party together and reader is taking to this guy who obviously wants to get in her pants but shes to dumb to realize so rafe has to get involved and takes her and then fucks her hard?

Too Naïve for Your Own Good

Rafe Cameron x Dummy!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), Rough Sex, Spanking, Choking, Overstimulation, Degradation, Slight Praise, Overprotectiveness, Possessiveness, Public Tension, Slight Exhibitionism (semi-public setting), Rough Language, Jealousy, Manipulation, Dubcon Undertones (power imbalance).

The music was too loud, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne and alcohol. You had no idea why you were even here—oh, right. Because Rafe wanted to go. And when Rafe wanted something, you never really had a choice.

He had promised not to leave you alone, but that lasted all of ten minutes before he disappeared into the crowd. You stood near the drinks table, awkwardly stirring the watered-down vodka-cranberry you barely sipped from. You weren’t good at reading people, but when a guy approached you, smiling and making conversation, you thought nothing of it.

He was friendly. Nice, even. Asking you simple questions, laughing at your dumb little comments. You liked that. You liked being listened to, liked the attention. What you didn’t notice—but Rafe did—was the way his eyes kept drifting down, lingering on your dress, on the bare skin of your thighs, on the neckline that dipped just enough to tease.

You didn’t notice how he edged closer, his fingers brushing your wrist as he pretended to fix your bracelet. You didn’t notice the way he angled himself toward you, subtly blocking anyone else from joining the conversation.

From across the room, where he was laughing at something Topper said, his entire body went rigid the second he spotted you. His hand clenched into a fist, jaw locking as he took in the scene before him. That guy wanted to fuck you. It wasn’t even a question. It was a fact.

And you, like the oblivious, naive little thing you were, had no fucking clue.

Before the guy could inch any closer, before he could try and put his hands somewhere they didn’t belong, Rafe was there.

You barely had a second to react before a strong grip wrapped around your wrist, tugging you back so fast you almost tripped. “Rafe—” You gasped, wide-eyed as he pulled you away.

“Don’t fucking talk.” His voice was low, sharp, dangerous.

The guy called after you, confusion laced in his voice, but Rafe didn’t even look back. His grip was tight, borderline bruising as he dragged you through the house. He wasn’t stopping. Not for you, not for anyone who turned their heads to watch. You didn’t understand what was happening.

“Rafe, slow down—”

He didn’t. Instead, he yanked open a door, shoved you inside, and locked it behind him. The party noise dulled, replaced by the sound of your quick, unsteady breathing.

You turned to face him, eyes wide with confusion. “What—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice was sharp, dripping with frustration. He took a step forward, and you instinctively took one back, pressing against the sink.

You blinked up at him, mouth opening and closing. “I—I was just talking—”

“He wanted to fuck you,” Rafe snapped. “And you just stood there, giggling like a dumb little slut.”

Your lips parted, face heating up at his words. “I—I didn’t—”

“You didn’t know? Of course, you fucking didn’t.” He scoffed, tilting his head as he looked at you like you were pathetic. “Too fucking naive for your own good.”

His hands were on you before you could say another word. He turned you around, pressing you against the sink, your palms bracing the cold marble as he shoved your dress up, bunching it around your waist.

“Rafe—” Your voice was breathless, unsure.

His belt clinked. The sound of his zipper followed.

“You want attention so bad?” His voice was right at your ear, hot, taunting. “Fine. I’ll fucking give it to you.”

His hand came down on your ass, hard, making you yelp. Your legs trembled, but he didn’t care. His other hand wrapped around your throat, tilting your head up so you could see yourself in the mirror. Your lips were parted, eyes wide with something between shock and anticipation.

Your breath hitched as Rafe’s hand wrapped around your throat, tilting your head up so you could see yourself in the mirror. Your reflection looked almost unfamiliar—eyes wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed from his grip and the way your dress was already bunched up around your waist.

“You really thought that guy just wanted to talk to you?” He scoffed, another slap landing on the same spot, making you jolt. “You’re so fucking naive.”

“I—I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you back just to slam you against him. You could feel how hard he was, pressing against you through his jeans, thick and heavy against your bare skin. “Didn’t know he was trying to fuck you? Didn’t realize you were standing there like a dumb little slut, giving him your full attention?”

You whimpered, feeling your body betray you. The heat between your legs grew unbearable, your thighs instinctively rubbing together. Rafe noticed. Of course, he did.

“Look at you,” he sneered. “Fucking pathetic.”

The sound of his belt clinking sent a shiver down your spine. Your breath stuttered when he unzipped his jeans, shoving them down just enough to free himself. His cock pressed against you, hot and heavy, teasing your soaked entrance.

“You wanna be used so bad?” His voice was dark, taunting. “Fine. I’ll fucking use you.”

And then, without warning, he thrust inside you.

A strangled gasp left your lips as he stretched you open, pushing in deep with no patience, no hesitation. Your body clenched around him, trying to adjust to his size, but he didn’t give you time.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips so tight it hurt. “So fucking tight. Always so fucking tight for me.”

He didn’t ease into it. He didn’t start slow.

He pounded into you hard, his hips snapping against yours with brutal force, knocking the breath from your lungs. Each thrust shoved you further into the sink, your hands slipping against the cold marble as you struggled to hold yourself up.

“You like this, huh?” His hand snaked up your stomach, sliding under your dress to grip your breast, squeezing roughly. “You like getting fucked like a dumb little whore?”

You moaned, back arching as he tugged your bra down, his fingers pinching at your nipple. His grip on your throat tightened just enough to make your head spin, your moans turning into breathy whimpers.

“That’s all you’re good for, anyway,” he muttered against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Taking my cock. Letting me ruin you.”

His other hand trailed back down, fingers slipping between your legs, rubbing harsh circles against your clit. Your whole body jerked, thighs trembling as pleasure shot through you.

“Fuck—Rafe—” Your voice was weak, breathless.

“What?” He smirked, watching your reflection in the mirror. “You gonna cum already? So fucking easy.”

You were already right on the edge, your body overwhelmed by the rough pace, the filthy words, the way his hand tightened around your throat like he owned you. And he did.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, his thrusts growing deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over. “Cum so I can fill you up like the dumb little thing you are.”

Your whole body tensed before you shattered, a broken moan leaving your lips as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, and that was all it took.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he buried himself inside you, spilling into you with a final, brutal thrust.

For a moment, the only sound in the bathroom was your ragged breathing, the distant thump of music from the party outside.

Then, Rafe let out a low chuckle, pressing a messy kiss against the back of your neck. “Maybe next time, you’ll fucking listen to me.”

[sematarygirls]

How did mean!pogue!reader and rafe met? I feel like even when they get tgt she’d def be #ihatemybffinalboss 😭 I love her characterrrrrr

⠀     ⠀⠀♯┆Mean!Pogue!Reader Meets Rafe.ㅤ  ۪ ୧

ᰋ. ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎she is the pioneer of the #ihatemybf movement ‎‎ ‎ ‎ : ‎‎ ‎ ‎WARNINGS . . . violence, drinking, smoking.   ̼ ₊

THE BONFIRE CRACKLED, orange light dancing along the ground, casting shadows as it collided with the bodies of kooks and pogues alike. Music blared through the clearing, vibrating the ground as people danced and chatted. You were stood by the kegs, watching JJ do a kegstand with Kiara.

You snorted as JJ came down from the kegstand, stumbling slightly before throwing his arms up like he was a champion as he whooped loudly. "That’s gotta be, like, a world record or something," he slurred, grinning.

You scoffed, arms crossed as you shot Kiara a look that said you'd both be dragging his ass home by the end of the night. "Yeah, for killing the most brain cells in under a minute."

Kiara rolled her eyes, passing him a half-empty Solo cup that he'd bestowed upon her before attempting his stunt. "I give him ten minutes before he’s face down in the sand."

"Ten?" You raised a brow, eyeing him. "You’re being generous. I say five."

JJ pointed a finger between the two of you, swaying slightly. "No faith. No respect. I am a... legend—" He took a step, tripped over a log, and went sprawling into the sand.

You exchanged a look with Kiara before bursting into laughter. "Thirty seconds," she corrected, shaking her head.

"I just don't see what she sees in you," a nasally voice sneered from behind the three of you. JJ rolled over onto his back in the sand with a groan, looking towards the voice, your eyes following his.

You exhaled sharply, rolling your eyes as you saw Topper sauntering toward you with a cup in his hand, Rafe and Kelce watching from behind him with smirks on their faces. “And yet, here you are, breathing the same air as us. What, Figure Eight not fun enough for you?”

He scoffed. “I just don’t get it. Kiara could’ve had everything, but she threw it away to hang out with trash.”

There it was. The word that had you seeing red—trash.

Your fist swung before you could think twice, knuckles colliding with his jaw in a way that sent a shock up your arm. Topper stumbled back, cursing, but before he could even react, you shoved him, making him fall back due to his already unsteady feet, his back colliding with the sand and sending his beer all over him. "Run back home to mommy, Thornton.

Laughter rippled through the crowd, people gathering around to see what went down. Pogues cheered on, egging on the violence with shouts of "Fight! Fight! Fight!" while Kooks looked on with sneers, as if they'd expect no less from a Pogue, even though Topper was the one that had technically started it by running his mouth.

Topper groaned from the ground, rubbing his jaw as he glared up at you in a mix of disbelief and anger. "You crazy bitch!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Topper," you sneered, shaking out your hand. "You had that coming."

"The fuck is your problem?" A second voice cut through the crowd, stepping into the little circle that had been created. Rafe Cameron's blue eyes, filled with disdain, looked onto yours as he adjusted his backwards hat on his head.

"Got something to say, Cameron?" You asked. tilting your head and daring him to insult you like his little lapdog had. "Don't think I won’t knock you on your ass just like I did to your little boyfriend over there."

Rafe scoffed, taking a step closer into your personal space as if testing your boundaries. "You got a real mouth on you, Pogue," he spat the word "Pogue" like it was poison on his tongue, like it was a dirty word.

Your lips curled into a grin, unaffected by the venom in his voice. "And you got a real ego on you, Cameron." You your eyes scanned him for a moment, sizing him up before meeting his again, unwavering. "What, mad I hit your little bitch first?"

Rafe's jaw tightened, his hands clenching at his sides. He'd never hit a woman, but you made him really really want to. You two glared at each other, both of you daring the other to make the first move, your faces inches apart.

"Yo, are you two gonna fight or fuck!" Someone yelled, making the people snicker around you. The comment made your jaw clench, the idea of sleeping with Rafe of all people absolutely revolting.

"Sorry, I don't do charity work," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Your knuckles hurt like a bitch. You'd definitely have to ice them as soon as you got out of here, but you were determined to not show weakness in front of Rafe.

"Trust me, even if I was desperate enough to fuck a pogue, it wouldn't be you," he rolled his eyes, though his ego took a little hit at your words. He wasn't used to being rejected by women, especially not Pogues, and especially not in front of a crowd.

Your fists balled up, opening your mouth to fire back a comment before Kiara grabbed your arm, tugging you away from him. "Let's just go. He's not worth it." You hesitated but nodded, knowing she was right. Topper was probably gonna run off and tell his mom about the fight, so it was in your best interest to get out of there without any more altercations.

"Yeah, that's right, run off!" He called after you, a victorious smirk on his face as he watched you retreat. It took everything in you not to turn around and punch that look off his face, but you somehow managed.

"This isn't over, Cameron," you spat, holding up your middle finger as you and Kiara helped JJ up and out of the crowd toward The Twinkie, which already had John B in the driver's seat.

Neither of you would get over this, and you both knew it

notes .ᐟ   and so began the mean!pogue!reader and rafe rivalry... not edited again 🙈

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @lovemesailor / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @bradshawed / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif / @fakedhearts / @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 / @ltristessedureratoujours

                                ୭ৎ

[angeliteria]

saw this tiktok where a girl jumped out of her bf’s moving car because she was losing an argument, and i’m thinking of that with rafe and fem!reader but with a twist to it <3

✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩

rafe had hauled you into his truck, slamming the passenger door shut. anger was pumping through him, and he hastily got into the driver’s side, pressing on the gas to drive away from the party.

he was mad at you for not only wearing a short dress, but was mad at the fact men were giving you attention because of it. you knew very well that even if other males were to give you attention or flash you a charming smile, they knew better than to ever approach rafe cameron’s girl.

but for some reason, that knowledge didn’t stick to rafe’s own brain.

“my girl is out here, dressing like a fucking slut!” rafe yelled, and you rolled your eyes, ignoring the complete fact he was going 100MPH over the speed limit.

you would be okay with getting in a car accident at this very moment. maybe he would kick in some conscious or decent common sense into his head.

“want me to dress like i’m fuckin’ amish or something, rafe?” you asked, scoffing. “i get you want control or whatever, but my style is up for me to decide. not my fault you’re insecure.”

rafe’s head immediately snapped in your direction, eyes bulking with rage and madness, like a bomb about to go off. “the fuck did you just tell me?” he asked, mindlessly not paying attention the road in front of him.

“said its a not my fault you’re insecure,” you repeated, grinning happily. “a man who knows what he’s secures with doesn’t fucking trip every minute — all you do is worry, and get mad at the attention people give me.”

“i’ll throw you out this fuckin’ car right now,” he threatened, and you shrugged, picking at your acrylic nails. “leave you on the side of the road for someone else to get you.”

“yeah, hopefully it’s topper or cameron,” you said, bored of rafe’s threats. when you date a guy like him for over a year, doesn’t take much to start yawning and getting tired of his bullshit.

“you’re a whore,” he went on, and you hummed, glad to see he at least had his eyes back on the road. “parading yourself around like some tramp. looks like i’m with a fuckin’ pogue or something.”

“said you’ll throw me out of this car, right?” you wondered, taking off your seatbelt, and rafe eyed you for a hast moment. “i’ll just do the job for you,” you unlocked the passenger door, throwing your stilettos and purse out before you could proceed with them.

rafe reflexively pulled you backwards by the back hemming of your strapless dress, his other hand stern on the wheel. “what the fuck is wrong with you!” he shouted, slamming on his brakes in the middle of the road, and put the car in park. he tugged you back into your seat, and grabbed your jaw roughly, forcing eye contact. “some sorta attention seeker, huh baby? just trying to piss me off more.”

“thought i’d stick to your word for you,” you told him, and he panted heavily, his boiled anger coming visible to you. you only smiled, flashing doe eyes at him while batting your lashes. “can you grab my purse and shoes, then? least you can do, rafe.”

he let go of your jaw, staring at you for a moment with thoughts toppling all in his mind on what to do with you. he got out of the truck, went to grab your stuff, and tossed it down on your lap when he returned.

“you’re some fuckin’ surprise, baby,” rafe said, continuing the drive back to tannyhill. “you’re in for it when we get back home.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pink princess

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, p in v sex, female receiving oral, girly!reader, violence, blood, rafe beats someone up, kelce is the bad guy in this D:

“i just don't get it rafe.” kelce shakes his head.

“what?” rafe mumbles, barely paying attention to his friend. even topper seems barely interested, both too focused on the football game playing on the television.

“how you could date a girl like y/n.” 

your name has rafe snapping to attention, turning to glare at kelce. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” rafe has only been your boyfriend for a couple months now, but he wouldn't question beating the shit out of his friend if he insulted you.

“don't get me wrong, the girl is nice and all. i like her she's just so… girly.” kelce says like it's an insult. “she only ever wears pink, she's all sweet and innocent. she's just not your type, that's all. im surprised.”

you let out a little sound, all of the boys attention snapping to you, kelces eyes widening when he realizes you have entered the living room.

“baby.” rafe coos softly. “come here.”

you cross over to rafe, rounding the couch to plop on his lap, keeping your head down to avoid looking at kelce.

“don't listen to him, princess.” rafe says softly, his voice so sweet, in contrast to the scared look on kelces face. “you're exactly my type.”

“shit rafe, i-i-didn’t mean-i didn't know she was-”

“get the fuck out.” rafe says, voice still soft as he pets his hand over your back, hating the pout that graces your sparkly gloss painted lips.

“rafe-” kelce tries to argue.

“no. get the fuck out. you're lucky im not beating your ass into the ground for upsetting my girl. now get the fuck out.”

kelce scrambles, rushing out of tanneyhill as the game continues on the tv, topper rightly deciding to remain silent.

“baby, talk to me.” rafe says softly, seeing tears still brimming in your eyes.

“im fine.” your voice is hoarse when the words finally escape your mouth.

“darling.” rafe sighs, tugging your bodies closer together, letting your head bury in his shoulder, not caring if you leave makeup stains on his shirt.

rafe knows the best thing to do is just let you breath, not wanting to work you up more with his words as his hand strokes over your back, hoping it's bringing you some sort of comfort.

“i had no idea he felt that way.” you finally pick your head up. you weren't close to very many girls, so when you and rafe started dating, you tried to quickly assimilate into his friend group and consider his few friends yours as well.

“he's just being a dick. don't worry, alright bunny? you're absolutely my type, and i love how girly you are, mkay?” rafe waits for you to nod and agree with him before he pulls you into a kiss, topper keeping his eyes trained on the tv while you make out.

--

“you ready to go princess?” rafe calls up the stairs, tapping his foot against the wood floor, waiting for you to finish getting ready to attend the gala he promised his dad he would be at.

“coming now!” you say before rushing down the stairs, but still being careful not to trip in your heels.

“you look gorgeous, honey.” rafe admires your outfit. its a new dress, or at least one that he hasn’t seen before. rafe takes your hand in his as you finish your descent, frowning when he realizes the glittery polish that was on your fingers has been scrubbed off, replaced with a creamy white that matches your dress, the only pink thing on your body being your lipstick.

“is that what you are wearing?” rafe questions.

“why, is something wrong with it?” you frown as you look down at your body.

“no-no.” rafe shakes his head. “not at all baby its just… very formal.” he figures the wording is better than blatantly asking why you’re not covered in pink and sparkles.

“well, it’s a formal event.” you roll your eyes, heading towards the door, not wanting to give ward a bad impression, and you know you’re already running late.

“yeah, right.” rafe nods, but his mind whirls in secret, wondering if there could be more to your change in appearance than that.

--

“you're going golfing with top today right?” you ask, rubbing your fingers through rafes hair, massaging his head. 

rafe knows you said something, but he's too relaxed to actually make out your words, struggling to blink his eyes open before humming, “what?”

you giggle at his blissed out expression, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “you're going golfing with topper later today right?”

“mhm.” rafe nods, letting out a soft moan when your long acrylics gently scratch over his scalp.

“maybe you can take me. ya know, i could learn how to golf. probably start with just putting.” you shrug.

“baby-” rafe has to take your hands and move them away, knowing he won't be able to focus on the conversation. “why do you want to learn how to golf? you hate sports.”

“that's not true!” you complain. “i like um… gymnastics and figure skating.”

rafe rolls his eyes “you like them for the sparkly outfits and music.”

you pout, moving yourself from straddling rafes lap to next to him on the couch. “aren't i allowed to be interested in the things you're interested in?”

“yes, of course.” rafe sighs, moving to kneel between your knees on the floor, taking your face in his hands, not letting you look away. “and if you really want to come, id love to have you. but if you are asking because you're trying to be less girly, then baby-” rafe leans in to press a kiss to your pouty lips- “i don't want you to change. i love you for who you are.”

“promise you don't mind?” your fingers play with the collar on his shirt, distracting yourself.

“promise.” rafe nods.

“okay, thank god.” you let out a giggle. “golf is so boring.”

--

you have your laptop and phone opened up, intensely scrolling as you switch between them, brow furrowed as you do your research.

“y/n-” 

you slam shut the laptop and turn the screen off on your phone as rafe walks into the room.

“what are you doing?” rafe questions. 

“nothing.” you smile at rafe. “just some online shopping.” you hope it's believable, but you can tell by rafes hesitation that he doesn't fully trust your explanation.

“okay…” rafe slowly approaches the bed, and you quickly move your laptop and phone to the bedside table as rafe crawls up next to you.

you distract him from asking more questions as you press your lips against his, pushing him to lay back on the bed as you grind down.

“ah, fuck.” rafe moans when you pull away, pulling your shirt off over your head to reveal that you aren't wearing anything underneath.

rafes hands cup your tits, massaging them in his large palms before suddenly flipping so you're the one laying down against the bed, completely forgetting about your suspicious behavior when he entered the room.

what rafe doesn't know, as he lowers down your body and flicks your nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, is that you weren't online shopping, rather scowering through social media, trying to find all of rafes ex girlfriends or anyone he interacted with, all while you compared the girls to yourself.

you wish kelces words didn't still echo in your head, especially after rafes insistence they weren't true.

--

“gonna take a shower.” you tell rafe, setting your bags down in the foyer, knowing you'll get around to them later.

“you sure not a bath? i can run one for you.” rafe offers, following you up the stairs.

“nah, that's fine.” you shrug, frowning slightly when you see your display of lush bath bombs. you're trying to be less high maintenance, more easy going. 

“come on, what if i wanna soak with you in the bath?” rafe pouts. “please baby.”

you can't help but giggle at his doe eyes blinking at you. “okay, sure.”

“good.” rafe hums before placing a hand on your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss before he heads towards the bath, turning the hot tap on. you watch as he looks at your bath bombs before selecting a light blue bath bomb with star embeds.

rafe sets the bath bomb down on the edge of the large tub before turning to you. “what should we do while we wait for the bath to fill?” you question, tugging your ponytail out to let your hair fall.

“mmm, i know exactly what i want to do.” rafe says.

in only a few moments he has your shorts down, perched on the edge of the bathtub while his head is buried in between your legs, tongue licking greedy stripes over your cunt.

--

“missed you.” you whine, burying your face into rafes chest as he rocks gently, holding you tight to him.

“missed you too, princess.” rafe is relieved to finally have you back in his arms. hes been away for an entire week, and you came to the airport to get him despite rafe insisting that he was fine to get himself home. you just couldn't wait any longer.

you whine when rafe pulls away slightly, making him laugh and tug you back into him.

“clingy baby.” rafe coos, but the words make your cheeks hot as you pull away. 

“hey, hey.” rafe grabs your hand, tugging you back against his chest. “i didn't mean it like that.”

“okay.” you whisper with a nod, tears brimming in your eyes. with rafe being gone, you spiraled even further, going as far as to befriend a couple of his exes to compare yourself even more to them. you also attended a party that kelce was at, and while he didn't speak at all to you, you could occasionally feel his eyes on you, disapproval in his gaze.

“love you so much bunny.” rafe says, rubbing his large hands over your shoulders. “let's get home so i can show you how much i missed you, yeah?”

you perk up as you nod, making sure your hand is clasp together with rafes as you head out of the airport and towards the parking lot, your keys hanging from your finger that isn't intertwined with rafes.

“here, baby.” rafe opens the passenger side door for you, but you frown and don't move towards it.

“you just got off a flight, rafe. i can drive.” 

“nope.” rafe snatches the keys out of your grasp. “you're my girl, and as long as im here you have no need to drive yourself. now get in, my passenger princess.”

--

“ready for the party?” you ask rafe, adjusting your skirt as rafe walks down the stairs.

“of course.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips before looking down at your outfit.

“baby… is this really what you want to wear?” rafe asks. he likes any clothes you put on, but the black skirt paired with a plain white cropped tee, not even accented by any jewelry just isn't you.

“i just…” you swallow. “i just know kelce is gonna be there. wanna show him that i don't need to be wearing sparkly pink every second.”

rafe can't speak, the anger quickly rising when he realizes that months later you still haven't let go of kelces words, still worrying that you arent the right person for rafe.

“go put on a sparkly dress.” rafe simply says, not able to keep his voice soft, despite addressing you. you hustle upstairs, changing into the outfit you really wanted to wear, adding some jewelry and colourpop super shock shadow to your lid.

you bounce down the stairs, feeling much more yourself now.

“theres my pretty girl.” rafe says, his words sweet but his face still angry as he places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out towards his truck.

he speeds to the party as you sit there silently, playing with your rings, worried about what is going to happen when you get to the party, especially knowing kelce is gonna be there.

“rafey, don’t do anythi-” you tell him as he helps you down after parking, but you can’t even finish your sentence.

rafe eyes kelce standing on the front lawn, a red solo cup in his hand. he hasn’t spotted rafe yet, but you know as soon as he does the smile is going to drop from his face.

rafe begins to stalk towards him while you trail behind, grimacing when rafe throws a punch, landing right on kelces cheek.

“fuck you!” rafe shouts, shoving him back before kelce can even realize what is happening.

“yo, man, stop!” some guy you recognize but don’t know his name yells, but doesn’t try to get in the middle as rafe punches kelce again.

you can’t help the smile on your face, watching your man defend you throughout anything, even if it involves turning one of his close friends into a bloody pulp.

“y/n… it’s gone on long enough, stop him.” topper comes up behind you, making you jump.

you turn to look at him before back at kelce, eyes glazed over as rafe shouts at him again. you rush to rafes side, grabbing at his fist. “okay, okay.” you tell him softly. “he gets it.”

rafe steps away as kelce falls to the ground, his chest heaving as his lip and nose drip blood. “let this be a lesson.” rafe turns to the crowd that has grown. “no one shit talk me or my girlfriend or this is what happens to you.” rafe points at kelce, not giving another word before stalking away, literally grabbing you and picking you up to carry you back towards his truck. you stay quiet as rafe sets you in the passenger seat.

“are your knuckles hurt?” you ask, petting your hand gently over his wrist as rafe shifts the car into gear, rushing away from the party.

“i’ll be fine, baby.” rafe says, glancing at his reddened fingers. “just need to get you home.”

“oh.” you nod, knowing that while rafe got some of his anger out on kelce, he’s certainly going to get the rest of his pent up energy out on you. 

it takes minutes from the time you get home for rafe to have your back flat on the bed, his large cock thrusting into you. 

you moan out, hands gripping at his shoulders, your nails leaving scratches against his tanned skin. 

“you’re. my. fucking. girl.” rafe says, accentuating each word by pounding his cock inside of you.

you let out a moan, kelces mean words thoroughly beat out of your head as you nod. “im yours.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

[rafesangelita]

♡ scare actors in a haunted house weren’t the only thing that made bambi!reader scream.. in which you and rafe accidentally stumble into an empty room while running away from a group of ‘killer’ clowns.

warnings: haunted house setting, slight teasing, ft. topper and kelce, getting chased, dirty talk, fingering, quickie, unprotected sex, semi-public sex

a/n: this is a collab fic w/ my mootie @fae-of-prey & my first ever collab on this account <3 please go check out the fic she posted to see the prompt i gave her 🤍 happy early halloween!

w/c: 1.6k

“rafe, i told you i didn’t want to do this!” you cried, clinging onto his arm as you two neared the doors of the haunted house. he took your hand in his, an amused expression playing on his face as your heart pounded in your ears. “baby, you’re with me. absolutely nothing could happen to you, ‘swear.” rafe reassured you, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. it didn’t help in the slightest when one of the scare actors crept up on you in the line, tapping your shoulder before screaming in your face. rafe, along with topper and kelce all laughed, your cheeks heating with embarrassment.

rafe saw a flash of hurt cast over your features, quickly shutting up his friends as he pulled you to his side. “alright, how about this; you walk through this haunted house with me, and i’ll finally take you to that pumpkin patch, ‘sound good?” you looked up at him, a pout on your lips. “..and you have to dress up as whatever i want you to be for halloween.” you added, both of you moving up in the line. refraining from cursing under his breath, rafe agreed. “alright it’s a deal.” he nodded, both of you locking pinky’s. soon, you two were at the front of the line, a man with a clipboard stood outside of the doors.

“if you could please look over this waiver, we need the signatures of all participants before allowing anyone inside.” rafe signed the waiver without hestation, passing the clipboard over to you. “you didn’t even read it..” you whispered, looking over the paper. obstruction of vision, flashing lights, small spaces, nothing too bad. you signed your name, giving the clipboard to the man before he opened the door for you and rafe. “have fun!” he shut it behind you two. you clung onto rafe, your boyfriend holding onto you tightly as he guided you through the dark room.

“you’re alright, just keep walking.” as soon as you took a step, a man in a grotesque mask popped out in front of you and rafe before allowing you two to go down the hallway. “i can’t even see anything!” you screamed, nearly tripping over your own feet. rafe cursed under his breath as he helped you balance, his hands holding you tightly to his side. “fuck, i didn’t think it was going to be this dark.” he looked around, your eyes shining with fear as a weeping lady started making her way down from the end of the hallway. “i think we should run.” you gripped rafe’s fingers, your heart pounding with every step she took.

just as rafe was going to agree, the lady in a bloodied white dress bolted towards you two, a piercing scream leaving her lips. “they’re coming!” you and rafe flashed each other a look, a metal door creaking open to your right. before you could turn, a pair of hands grabbed you by the back of your dress, the death grip you had on rafe’s arm making him tumble inside the room with you. “shit!” rafe fell, dragging you down with him. just as you two were getting up, the lights turned on, your eyes widening as you realized you and rafe were surrounded by at least eight clowns.

rafe eyed the various weapons they carried. from baseball bats with nails, to bloody chainsaws, he swallowed thickly at the menacing sight. “alright, this is a little scary now i can’t lie..” you whimpered when they started circling you two. “you only have one chance to get out.. make it count.” just then, they made way for you and rafe to run through a set of double doors, their heavy footsteps clashing with the cement flooring as they chased after you and rafe. the lights were flashing rapidly, making everything look as if it moved in slow motion. “y/n! over here!” rafe shouted, reaching for your hand.

you grabbed onto him, a gasp leaving your lips when you two ran past a sign that said ‘employees only’. “wait! i don’t think we were supposed to turn in here!” you were panting, looking behind you as rafe broke through the door. “who cares? at least we lost them.” he laughed, pulling you inside the dimly lit room before twisting the lock shut. he flipped the light switch on, and instead of being surrounded by clowns this time, you two were surrounded by racks of costumes. “yeah, we’re definitely not supposed to be in here.” you sighed, watching as rafe plopped down on a chair in the corner of the room.

taking a moment to inspect your dress, you grimaced as the once sparkling white material was now dingy and stained, your shoes matching the mess. “i look disgusting..” you whispered, your skin damp with sweat. rafe looked up, his eyes scanning down your figure. “no you don’t.” he scoffed, motioning for you to sit on his lap. you obliged, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you took your seat. “what made you want to wear a dress for a haunted house, hm?” he pressed his nose against your neck, his hair tickling your skin. you giggled, resting a hand on his chest as you shrugged.

“just thought it would look nice..” rafe hummed, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw before you felt his fingers slip underneath the fabric of your dress. “what are you doing?” you caught onto rafe’s ministrations, your eyes darting around the room as his fingers inched closer to your underwear. “we’ve done it everywhere else.. why not add the annual ‘kildare haunted house’ to the list?” you gasped softly when he started rubbing you over your panties. instinctively, your thighs opened for the man at your side, your head falling on his shoulder while he continued rubbing hard circles onto your clit.

“rafe, what if someone walks in?” your cheeks heated at the thought. “they’re not.. will you please stop worrying and just let me take care of you?” you swallowed thickly, nodding as he brought your leg over his thigh so you could straddle him. “it’s not my fault you look so fuckin’ pretty every time we go out somewhere.” he said through gritted teeth, hiking your dress up around your waist. finally taking your lips with his own, you whimpered when you felt him move your panties to the side. “being scared gets you this wet?” he slid a finger between your folds, his digit gliding with ease.

you hummed, your hips moving to grind on his hand. “being chased seems to turn you on..” he teased your entrance, “at least now i know i could chase you around tanneyhill and if i catch you, i could do whatever i want to you.” you moaned at his words, the idea igniting a fire in your belly. “that sounds good?” before you could reply, you felt rafe’s finger slide into your soaked cunt, a half-scream falling from your lips at the delicious stretch. “fuck, bambi,” he smiled wickedly, using his other hand to hold your dress out of the way, “you’re gonna let everyone know we’re in here.” rafe laughed.

you didn’t care at this point, your eyebrows knitting together as rafe pumped his digit in and out of your needy pussy. despite you buzzing with pleasure, your clit ached to be touched, the lack of friction making you whine. as if reading your mind, rafe unzipped his pants, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance before you sunk down on him, both of you letting out a moan. “even with fake blood on you, you’re gorgeous.” rafe wiped away a red streak from your cheek, his eyes swimming with lust as you moved on top of him. “thank you.” you hiccuped, grabbing onto his shoulders for leverage.

rafe’s hand snaked down between you two, his thumb stroking your sensitive bundle of nerves as he whispered filthy obscenities in your ear. “ride that fucking cock, baby. show me how bad you want it.” you cried out, your nails digging into his skin as he sped up the ministrations on your clit. the sound of your juices squelching with every movement of your hips turned rafe on beyond belief. within minutes, rafe felt his release approaching, your own high not too far away as you started trembling in his arms. your thighs burned for some relief, rafe could tell by the way your hips stuttered that you needed a break.

“rub your clit for me, bambi.” he guided your hand down to where his thumb once was, locking his arms around your waist before thrusting up into you at a brutal pace. you squealed in pleasure, both of your orgasms hitting each other at the same time. “son of a bitch..” rafe hissed as he spilled into you, your walls milking him for everything he had. you bit into his shoulder, the stinging sensation making him pinch your thigh. “oh my god,” rafe’s chest rose and fell with each breath, “are you okay?” you nodded weakly, resting your head on his shoulder.

rafe got both of you up, the two of you examining yourselves in the full body mirror to make sure you two looked presentable. “so i was thinking.. what if you dressed up as woody from toy story and i’ll be little bo peep?” you fixed your dress, batting your eyelashes up at him. once rafe fixed his belt, he flashed you a glare. “jesus christ, y/n..” he shook his head. “you promised!” just as you were going to clasp your hands together and beg, the door knob started rattling. “open the fucking door, man!” rafe recognized the voice immediately. “it’s locked, dumbass!”

“is that kelce and topper?”

[etheraltides]

Of Tears and Triumphs

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summarize: A quiet morning at the Cameron estate becomes a turning point as the reader grapples with anxiety and a relapse in her eating disorder journey . Rafe, noticing the distress, offers comfort and support, reminding her that nothing is ever lost.

Warning(s): Eating disorders (compulsive eating), body dysmorphia, anxiety, emotional distress (shame, guilt), mental health struggles (depression, self-image issues), substance abuse (reference to past drug use).

A/N: To anyone reading this who is struggling right now, I want you to know that you are not alone. It's okay to feel lost, to feel overwhelmed, and to not have everything figured out. Healing is a journey, and it doesn’t happen overnight. Be kind to yourself, even when it feels impossible. You are so much more than your struggles.

Remember, reaching out for help is a sign of strength, not weakness. There are people – therapists, counselors, loved ones – who can support you through this. You don't have to face it alone, and you deserve to find the peace and healing that’s waiting for you. Please, take the first step towards getting the help you deserve. You are worth it. 💙

The sun had just begun to creep over the horizon, casting a gentle, golden glow over the Cameron estate. Everything was deceptively perfect: the ocean's rhythmic crashing in the distance, the birds that chirped from the tree canopies, and the soft rustle of leaves carried by the morning breeze. Yet beneath this serene surface, a storm brewed in your chest.

You sat on the edge of the bed, legs folded underneath you, the light duvet twisted in your restless fingers. Rafe's side of the bed was empty, the indentation of his head still fresh on the pillow. He'd gone out for an early surf with Kelce and Topper, leaving you alone with your thoughts – a dangerous place to be.

The room felt stifling, the silence pressing into your ears like cotton. You glanced at the old Polaroid on the nightstand. In it, you and Rafe were beaming, arms slung around each other at some summer bonfire weeks before. Your hair was wild from the salt water, and his grin was as reckless as ever. It was weeks after your steady recover, before you tripped and the weight of guilt and shame began pressing down on you like lead.

Yesterday had started normally. You’d woken up with the soft glow of the sun filtering through the curtains, feeling almost optimistic. It wasn’t until you scrolled through Instagram that the first thread of anxiety wove itself around your chest. A picture from a girl you used to know, toned and confident in her bikini, had appeared at the top of your feed. The caption read “Hard work pays off.”

Your thumb froze mid-scroll, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Memories of skipped meals and endless calculations surfaced like unwelcome ghosts. A voice in your head, sharp and familiar, whispered, Why can’t you be like that?

The feeling followed you through the day, clinging like a second skin as your whole algorithmic seemed to sense your mind and show you all the gorgeous and thin girls in your feed. By the time afternoon came, the anxiety had grown into a suffocating mass that sat heavy in your chest. You paced the kitchen, each footstep echoing in your head. The silence was unbearable, the ticking of the clock like a countdown to something inevitable. You knew you weren’t going to settle down or forget until you did it.

The pantry door creaked as you opened it. Your fingers hovered over the neatly stacked items, trembling. Just a little, you told yourself, reaching for a handful of crackers. Just a few so I can cover this awful feeling – some good, old food comfort. But one taste turned into two, and soon, control slipped through your grasp like sand.

You moved on autopilot, the familiar numbness settling in as you grabbed chocolate bars, chips, anything you could find. Each bite was frantic, fueled by desperation and self-loathing. The last spoonful of ice cream melted on your tongue, its sweetness turning bitter as regret surged up, hot and suffocating.

When you came to, the evidence surrounded you: wrappers crumpled like discarded dreams, smudges of chocolate on your hands, the tub of ice cream half-melted on the counter. The kitchen, once a place of comfort, had become a cage, and you were the only prisoner.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The weight of shame pressed down, crushing and relentless.

This morning, the mirror was your jury, and it was merciless. You tugged at your shirt, the fabric clinging to your skin as if conspiring against you. Your eyes, usually bright with laughter, were rimmed with red, dull and haunted. The internal monologue was relentless:

You’re weak. You’ve ruined everything. How could you let it happen again?

The silence in the house was shattered by the sound of the front door opening and closing. Rafe's voice echoed through the hallway, carefree and light. “Babe? You here?”

You didn’t respond, the shame was too raw, too close. You pulled your knees tighter to your chest, staring blankly at the mirror as if it would offer some kind of reprieve.

Footsteps approached and then paused at the threshold. The room was drenched in the soft, fading sunlight, but it did nothing to lift the heavy atmosphere.

“Hey.” Rafe’s voice softened when he saw you, the smile fading from his lips. Concern clouded his eyes as he took in your hunched form, your tear-streaked cheeks. He set down his phone without a word, crossing the room in three long strides.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low and gentle. He knelt beside you, resting a warm hand on your knee. The weight of his gaze was heavy but not suffocating, it was grounding.

“I messed up.” You whispered, voice breaking. “I messed up so bad.”

Rafe’s brows knitted, and he took a breath, steady and patient. “Talk to me, baby.” he coaxed. When you didn’t reply, he shifted to sit beside you on the floor, pulling you closer.

“I ate. I ate everything yesterday. I couldn’t stop.” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush. Your voice trembled with the weight of confession. “And now I can’t stand to look at myself or… or to look at food again.”

His jaw clenched, not out of anger but out of a protective frustration. “Hey, hey” he whispered, turning to face you fully. His hands found yours, fingers weaving together with tender insistence. “Listen to me. You are not defined by one moment, alright? Not by yesterday, not by what happened.”

Tears welled up again, and you looked down, unable to meet his eyes. Rafe reached out, tilting your chin up so that you had no choice but to look at his blue eyes. “You were there for me, remember?” he said, his voice thickening. “Every time I messed up, every time I felt like I couldn’t crawl out of that pit with coke. You pulled me through. Don’t you dare think I’m not going to do the same for you. For however long it takes.”

The room stilled, the truth of his words settling into the spaces between the pain and you couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips. You felt pathetic and mess, and yet Rafe was being understanding and loving – he was treating you like you should treat yourself.

He took your hand, placing a kiss to your palm as his eyes watched you tenderly. “Why don’t you take a nice bath?” he suggested, his voice gentle but firm. “It’ll help you feel a little better.”

You blinked at him, the exhaustion and emotional weight making it difficult to argue. Reluctantly, you nodded, and with a small smile, Rafe guided you to the bathroom, making sure you were settled before stepping out quietly, having lighten up your favorite eucalyptus scented cantle on the way out.

As the warm water wrapped around you, easing the tension in your muscles, Rafe was already in the kitchen, brow furrowed as he watched a YouTube video on his phone, the volume low so you wouldn’t hear. The video was one of those wholesome, comforting cooking channels, and he paid close attention, following each step precisely. He wanted this to be a surprise, a moment where he could make you feel seen and cared for like you had made him feel when he was struggling to keep clean.

Half an hour later, you slipped into one of Rafe’s sweaters, not wanting any fabric hugging your body. The scent of simmering herbs greeting you as you opened the bedroom’s door. Your curiosity piqued, and you made your way to the kitchen to find Rafe standing over the stove, a look of focused concentration on his face as he stirred a pot.

“Rafe?” you called, the sound soft, hesitant.

He turned, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he caught your surprised expression. “Hey, I thought you could use something warm and comforting.”

“You didn’t have to—” you started, but he interrupted with a warm look.

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly. “It’s just a light soup to warm your stomach and keep you up. Something gentle to help you feel a little more settled.”

A few minutes later, he ladled the soup into a bowl, sliding it in front of you with a spoon. “This is going to be the best soup you’ve ever had.” He promised with a wink.

“And if you can’t eat much, that’s okay but you just gotta try, alright.” He pulled a chair, his arm sneaking around your waist as he brought you to his lap. His hand on your hip brushing a soft pattern under the fabric.

“Thank you.” you whispered, the tightness in your chest easing a little as you blinked a tear away.

Rafe pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Always,” he said, his voice unwavering. “And remember, we’re in this together. Every single step.”

The first bite was warm and soothing and you felt your cheeks burning as he guided the spoon to your lips but his gentle whispers distracting you from feeling ashamed. He watched, eyes hopeful and patient. “It’s… really good.” you said, a small, genuine smile breaking through.

“Told you.” he grinned proudly, his lips moving to the bare skin on your shoulder. “And if we have to go through this a hundred more times, we will. We’re in this together, okay?”

You nodded, the knot in your chest loosening, replaced with something warm and steadfast. Hope didn’t feel so far out of reach.

“Tomorrow, we’re booking an appointment with the best therapist in Charleston. We’ll find someone who can help, okay? Someone who can give you the support you need.”

The sincerity in his voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. It felt like an embrace, even though he hadn’t moved further.

“You can do this, baby. You’re my tough girl, remember?” He whispered, his hand running up and down in a soothing rhythm on your back as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

[strawberrydolly333]

rafe cameron nsfw alphabet pt. 1

18+ only, mentions of sex, drugs, kinks, sending nudes

a = aftercare (what they're like after sex)

rafe normally doesn't do aftercare when it comes to hookups or one night stands as he normally just kicks them out once they finish. but, ever since you started dating him, aftercare is always a must. he'll always grab a towel and clean your body, taking extra good care of your princess parts after ramming into them for endless of hours

b = body part (their favorite body part and also their partner's)

his favorite body part on himself would either be his shoulders or his arms. he works out pretty often where he does a lot of muscle training with the trap bar (s1 episode 4 rafe) and he also plays golf with topper so that can tone his arms too. as for his partner, his favorite body part on you would be your tits. he likes to snort lines of coke between the valley of your boobs before putting his entire mouth over your nipple and sucking on it

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he's a big fan of breeding you, where the sight of his cum flowing out of your pussy makes him wanna fuck you again. the idea of cumming inside of you and then having you carry his kids in your round tummy makes him go absolutely feral

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he oftenly thought about fucking you from behind, having you sprawled out onto the glass table as you snort up thin lines of coke, giggling and whining as you take his cock. he doesn't want you resorting to drugs and heavily relying on it like him, but the idea of you being his coke whore makes him go a tad bit insane

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

he's definitely not a virgin but he also doesn't go around sleeping with all the kooks in tannyhill. his body count is probably between 4-5 and ever since you guys started dating, he'll spend most of the time fucking you behind closed doors in his room while everyone is downstairs partying, with loud music blasting in the background

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

his favorite position is doggy-style hands down. he loves the view of your ass on display for him as you crumble within the bedsheets. while fucking you in doggy, he likes to grab your hair and create a makeshift ponytail as you take his cock, moaning and crying out for more (he also likes to grab your face and lean your head back as he spits in your mouth)

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

rafe does not play around when it comes to having sex with you. he prefers to take control, finding pleasure from making you feel pleasure. "yeah kid? y'like that?" he asked, thrusting deep inside of your tight walls, feeling your pussy clench around his length as he lets out a guttural moan

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he likes to keep his area shaved and if there is hair growing, he likes to keep it well groomed. he knows that if it gets too long, it could possibly make you feel sensitive/irritated so he likes to just shave it all off to be safe

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

as previously mentioned, when he would be with his hookups or one night stands, all he cared about was fucking them and kicking them out afterwards. after meeting you, he began to cherish the intimate moments where he'd often kiss your forehead tenderly when fucking you missionary-style. in person, he's often grumpy and keeps to himself but when you guys are together having sex, he shows his sincere love for you as you guys passionately fuck for hours

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

if he's taking care of stuff related to the cameron estate and has to leave for business trips, yes he jacks off. in fact, he'll actually steal an underwear from your drawer and bring it along with him, rubbing it against his cock in his private hotel room. he also has a polaroid picture of you with his cum all over your face, tongue stuck out, squeezing your tits together inside of his wallet that he'll stare at when jacking off

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

he absolutely loves it when you call him 'daddy' during sex. it's even better when you call him that outside of the bedroom, casually and even in front of kelce and topper. another personal favorite of his is breeding. with you being on birth control, him finishing inside of you almost every single time never fails to amaze him. he'll pull out of you and watch his cum drip out of your cunt before stuffing it back in, not wanting any of it to go to waste

l = location (favorite places to do the deed)

he can be pretty risky and fuck you almost anywhere but aside from the bedroom, he likes fucking you on the golf course either behind a bush far away from others or having his dick buried inside of your cunt as you sit on top of his lap while he drives the golf cart. he'd purposefully drive over bumps and potholes, causing you to bite back a moan as you try and cover yourself with your skirt

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

lots of things can turn on rafe but when it comes to you, sending him nudes while he's out on business trips or dealing with barry makes him so horny. he felt his phone vibrate and as he opened his phone to see what it was, he was met with a picture of your pussy glistened with cum with a message saying "missing you right now daddy" and later that night, he made sure to fuck you extra hard for pulling such a stunt like that on him