#dad!rafe
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callumsluvr ยท 1 day ago
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okay i donโ€™t think writing is for me๐Ÿ˜ญ i need to work on it, so instead of a series, iโ€™m going to just give a cute little timeline of events. okay love you all๐Ÿฉท
- you were born the year after Rafe
- basically an arranged marriage
- Rafe got โ€œtoo coolโ€ for halloween when he was 11, but some notable matching halloween costumes you had before that is: pumpkins (age 1 and 2), peter pan and wendy (ages 6 and 7), and a princess and prince (ages 8 and 9)
- you remember his mom, but not as well as youโ€™d like. however, youโ€™d always been there for Rafe, even when he was dealing with her death
- your parents took Rafe in whenever he needed a break from home
- you and him had your first kiss during your freshman year ski trip during winter break
- after that, you went to every school dance with him and midsummers
- you never technically dated until senior year, but you definitely didnโ€™t date anyone else either
- you both had a falling out in junior year when he started choosing other friends and partying over you
- Rafe threw a graduation party during your senior year and you reconciled, but that was about it. you decided that youโ€™re still friends, you just have different priorities, and didnโ€™t want to go to college mad at each other
- ironically, you both end up at UNC, and end up in the same orientation group
- after that, you and Rafe go back to normal and realize that you feel a lot more than friendly
- freshman year of college, you and Rafe end up dating
- then, heโ€™s stuck with you ๐Ÿ˜›
- during your junior year, you move in with each other in a cute, cozy apartment
- the year after you both graduate, Rafe proposes in the backyard of Tannyhill
- then he tells you that Tannyhill is your home now. if you want it.
- you both get married in a gorgeous backyard wedding of Tannyhill. donโ€™t think because itโ€™s in a backyard that itโ€™s cheap. unfortunately for Rafe, it wasnโ€™t.
- you honeymoon in Italy
- after that, at 22, Vivienne Katherine Cameron is born
- then at 24, Charlotte Marie Cameron is born
- 25, Summer Jane Cameron is born
- and at 28, when you and Rafe decide youโ€™re done, Theodore Joseph Cameron makes his appearance. now, Rafe is done for good.
hated this, but whatever
better things coming soon, hopefully. let me know if anyone wants a more elaborate explanation for any of the scenarios!
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rafeschicana ยท 9 months ago
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๐™šห™โœงห–ยฐ๐Ÿ“ท เผ˜ โ‹†๏ฝก หš daddyโ€™s girl ๐™šห™โœงห–ยฐ๐Ÿ“ท เผ˜ โ‹†๏ฝก หš
dad!rafe x mom!reader
read more of this family here๐Ÿค
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your favorite reality tv show played in the background as you lay out on the floor playing with your 10-month-old daughter. โ€œthose sensory skills are amazing ari girlโ€ you cooed as she stacked the colorful rings on the rock-a-stack. she clapped her hands placing the last one. โ€œouuuu good job baby!โ€ you joined in on her happy claps.
โ€œwanna go again?โ€ you cracked up as Ari stared at you waiting for you to knock the toy over. reaching over you knocked the toy over with a theatrical โ€œwoahhhhโ€ ari full on belly laughed, her tiny legs and hands kicking excitedlyly. โ€œis that funny mi amorโ€ you giggled as you flooded her with belly kissies.
ariโ€™s laughter died down as she listened to the front door knob jiggling. already getting into a crawling position forgetting all bout her toys. ari knew who was strolling through that door and it made her very excited. โ€œwho is that baby?โ€ you grinned running a soft hand down her back.
โ€œis it dada?โ€ you gasped when rafe came through the door shopping bags in hand. ariโ€™s squealing was precious, rafeโ€™s head quickly veering around towards the both of you. โ€œmy babies were you waiting for daddy?โ€ rafe grinned as he locked the front door back up. ari crawled up to him in what felt like seconds. your babe had the zoomies whenever she saw her papa. her babbles non-stop as if she was informing rafe alll about her day. rafe bent down placing a quick kiss onto her forehead. โ€œone second baby let me go put these groceries down then ill give you and mama all the loving okay?โ€
ariโ€™s lip quickly constructing in a pout. โ€œaww baby you gonna make daddy cry stopโ€ rafe quickly ran to drop the groceries onto the kitchen counter. ari was now full on sobbing as you soothed her. โ€œbaby, daddy is coming in a secondโ€ you giggled as she suckled on her paci. โ€œwhere's my girl?โ€ rafe came back around the corner arms open wide. โ€œsheโ€™s such a daddy's girlโ€ you laughed as rafe gently scooped her from your arms. her head instantly resting in the crook of his neck fiddiling with his chain.
โ€œcโ€™mere mamaโ€ he rasped. stepping forward your front met his chest. โ€œyou smell goodโ€ you smiled. lips meeting his in an intimate kiss. his free hand stroking gentle circles on your lower back. pulling away from the kiss when his hand gradually moved down giving your ass a squeeze. โ€œyou're so sneakyโ€ you giggled.
โ€œAri baby if your mama keeps walking around looking this goodโ€ rafe licked his lips eyeing you up and down. โ€œyou might just get a little sibling sooner than laterโ€ ari's tiny hand moving towards her dadโ€™s mouth covering it. โ€œi don't think she wants to share you just yet!โ€ you smirked squishing her cheeks between your fingers โ€œisn't that right baby?โ€ both you and rafe busted out in laughter as ari clapped her hands.
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rafecameronssl4t ยท 17 days ago
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Two pink lines || dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: Getting pregnant at nineteen by Rafeโ€”who was still knee-deep in his issues and drugsโ€”wasnโ€™t exactly on your bingo card.
Warnings: s1rafeโ€ฆ..yeahโ€ฆ.. mention of cocaine
Word count: 1,413
A/n: I acc enjoy writing s1!dad!rafe a lotโ€ฆ lmk if u want more!!
MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)
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The two pink lines showed up fastโ€”too fast. You stared down at the test, perched on the edge of your marble bathroom counter, like it might suddenly disappear if you looked away. But it didnโ€™t. The second line deepened, steady, undeniable. Solid pink. Positive.
Your hand shook as you placed the test back down, chest rising in shallow, quick breaths. You were nineteen. Nineteen. You lived in a gilded prison of beachfront houses and Sunday brunches and family names that meant something. You had a trust fund, an inheritance, a reputation to protect.
You were supposed to be the good one, the composed one, the one who didnโ€™t end up barefoot and pregnant like one of the Pogues your mother whispered about behind cocktail glasses. And yetโ€”here you were. Pregnant. Because of one stupid, reckless night.
A night where Rafe had gotten too bold, too desperate, too handsy in the backseat of his truck after a kook party. Youโ€™d both been tipsy. Things had gotten heated. You were both tipsy, the windows fogged up, your judgement clouded. There was no condom in the console. Heโ€™d promised it would be fine. โ€œJust this once, babe. I swear Iโ€˜ll pull out.โ€ Youโ€™d let him.
You were drunk on him, his kisses, the way his fingers tangled in your hair like he couldnโ€™t get enough of you. And God, you wanted to believe him. You pressed your knuckles to your lips, trying to stop the bile from rising. This was real. This was happening.
You stumbled back onto the cool tiles of the floor, legs folded beneath you, trying to breathe through the panic clawing at your chest. You didnโ€™t cry. Not yet. You couldnโ€™t. Not until you talked to him. So, you called him. The phone rang twice before his lazy voice answered.
โ€œBabyyy,โ€ Rafe slurred, all soft and syrupy. You could hear the fan in his room spinning. โ€œItโ€™sโ€”what time is it? Why you callinโ€™ me atโ€”โ€ He yawned. โ€œโ€”the middle of the night?โ€ It wasnโ€™t the middle of the night. It was 9:43pm. But you didnโ€™t bother correcting him.
โ€œRafe,โ€ you said, your voice too shaky. โ€œAre youโ€”are you high right now?โ€ A chuckle. โ€œOnly a little bit. Nothinโ€™ serious.โ€ You closed your eyes, pressing your fingers to your forehead. Heโ€™d promised heโ€™d stopโ€”at least slow down. But that was always after the fact. Always a โ€œnext time.โ€
โ€œI need to tell you something,โ€ you said. โ€œYeah? Can it wait, babe? Iโ€™m about to pass out, not gonna lieโ€ฆโ€ โ€œNo,โ€ you snapped, and your voice cracked. โ€œIt canโ€™t wait.โ€ That made him go quiet. You could almost picture him blinking up at the ceiling, brows twitching slightly in confusion.
โ€œโ€ฆOkay. Whatโ€™s goinโ€™ on?โ€ You swallowed. โ€œIโ€™m pregnant.โ€ Another beat of silence. Then: โ€œโ€ฆWait. What?โ€ โ€œIโ€™m pregnant,โ€ you repeated, each syllable like a stone in your throat. โ€œI took two tests. Iโ€”Iโ€™m late. Iโ€™ve been nauseous. Iโ€™ve never been late. Rafe, Iโ€™m pregnant.โ€
There was a long, slow exhale from the other end of the line. Not panic. Not urgency. Just a half-baked sort of curiosity.โ€œโ€ฆDamn,โ€ he muttered. โ€œFor real?โ€ โ€œYes, for real,โ€ you snapped. โ€œJesus, Rafeโ€”this is serious.โ€ He hummed softly, as if he were still trying to wrap his sleepy, high brain around it.
โ€œWell, I meanโ€ฆ itโ€™s not the end of the world, right? I mean, you and meโ€”weโ€™ll figure it out.โ€ You blinked, stunned by the casualness in his tone. โ€œWhat?โ€ โ€œIโ€™m just saying, like, weโ€™ve been together a minute. You know I love you. This ainโ€™t gonna ruin anything. Donโ€™t freak out, alright?โ€
You stood up, pacing now, your robe trailing behind you on the tile. โ€œRafeโ€”weโ€™re nineteen years old. Youโ€™re talking like weโ€™re some married couple on the verge of starting a family. We donโ€™t even know what the hell weโ€™re doing tomorrow, let aloneโ€”raising a baby.โ€
โ€œWeโ€™ll get help,โ€ he said easily. โ€œYouโ€™re parents are loaded. My dadโ€™s loadedโ€”heโ€™ll chill once he knows itโ€™s mine. I mean, you think Wardโ€™s gonna not help with his grandkid?โ€ You let out a sharp, humourless laugh. โ€œRafe, Ward can barely handle you. Heโ€™ll lose his goddamn mind. And my parentsโ€”fuck, my parents are going to kill me.โ€
He paused, and for a second you thought maybe something was finally clicking in his head. But then: โ€œLookโ€ฆyouโ€™re stressinโ€™ for no reason. You donโ€™t gotta do anything right now. Justโ€ฆbreathe. Itโ€™s you and me, alright? Weโ€™ll figure it out.โ€ โ€œNo, Rafe,โ€ you snapped, voice rising.
โ€œYou donโ€™t have to do anything right now. You get to lay in your bed, high out of your mind, and pretend this is no big deal. But I have to carry this. I have to tell people. I have to be the one to face everyoneโ€™s disappointment and judgement andโ€”andโ€”โ€
You stopped, breath heaving. โ€œIโ€™m scared,โ€ you whispered. โ€œIโ€™m really fucking scared.โ€ And thatโ€™s when he finally soberedโ€”at least a little. โ€œโ€ฆShit,โ€ he muttered. โ€œI didnโ€™t know you were feelinโ€™ like that.โ€ You sat back down on the edge of your tub, clutching the phone tighter. โ€œYeah. Well. I am.โ€
The line was quiet for a long moment. โ€œIโ€™m sorry, baby,โ€ he said quietly. โ€œI swear I didnโ€™t mean to act like it wasnโ€™t a big deal. I justโ€”Iโ€™m not good with this stuff. You know that.โ€ โ€œI need you to be,โ€ you whispered. โ€œI need you to be good at this, Rafe. Because if I do thisโ€”if we do thisโ€”I canโ€™t do it alone.โ€
โ€œI wonโ€™t let you,โ€ he said, more serious now. โ€œIโ€™ll get clean. Iโ€™ll get my shit together. Iโ€™llโ€”Iโ€™ll go to that place Rose keeps talkinโ€™ about. Iโ€™ll do whatever you want. Just donโ€™t shut me out.โ€ Your heart ached at the promise. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to. โ€œOkay,โ€ you whispered. โ€œOkay.โ€
โ€œWeโ€™ll figure it out,โ€ he repeated, softer now. โ€œI swear to God, Iโ€™ll be better. For you. For the baby.โ€ You stared down at the test again. Two pink lines. Clear as day. โ€œโ€ฆWeโ€™ll see,โ€ you said.
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rafesteddy ยท 8 months ago
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๐“’๐“ธ๐“ถ๐“น๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ญ ๐Ÿ’•
๐Š๐ข๐ง๐ค๐ฆ๐š๐ฌ ๐Ÿ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ’ ๐ƒ๐ซ๐š๐›๐›๐ฅ๐ž๐ฌ
๐•ธ๐–†๐–˜๐–™๐–Š๐–—๐–‘๐–Ž๐–˜๐–™
โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช + โ„•๐•š๐•”๐•– ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
+18 ๐“œ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ธ๐“ป ๐““๐“๐“˜ - ๐“๐“ธ ๐“ข๐“น๐“ฎ๐“ฌ๐“ฒ๐“ฏ๐“ฒ๐“ฌ ๐“ž๐“ป๐“ญ๐“ฎ๐“ป
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โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ | ๐“ข๐“ถ๐“พ๐“ฝ
โ„•๐•š๐•”๐•– ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ | ๐“•๐“ต๐“พ๐“ฏ๐“ฏ
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โ„๏ธ ๐“•๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ต๐“ฒ๐“ทโ€™ ๐“›๐“พ๐“ฌ๐“ด๐”‚ | ๐™ท๐š˜๐šŒ๐š”๐šŽ๐šข!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐š‚๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›๐š!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿš๐Ÿ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
When you're getting hit on by a random guy at your local college bar โ€œboyfriendโ€ Rafe comes in to save the day.
โ„๏ธ ๐“๐“น๐“ปรจ๐“ผ ๐“ข๐“ด๐“ฒ | ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ถ๐™ตโ€™๐šœ๐š‚๐š’๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐š›!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿš๐Ÿœ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
Your sisterโ€™s boyfriend is so hotโ€ฆ A family trip to Breckenridge leaves plenty of tension between you and Rafe
โ„๏ธ ๐“ฃ๐“ฑ๐“ฒ๐“ท ๐“˜๐“ฌ๐“ฎ | ๐™ฝ๐™ท๐™ป๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐š†๐™ฐ๐™ถ! ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿš๐Ÿ› | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
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 lossโ€”now he needs to make it right
โ„๏ธ ๐“ฃ๐”€๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ด๐“ต๐”‚ ๐“ฃ๐“ฑ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ๐“ผ | ๐™ฝ๐™ท๐™ป๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ถ๐™ต!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•š๐•”๐•– ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿš๐Ÿš | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
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.
โ„๏ธ ๐“ข๐“น๐“ฒ๐“ท ๐“ฃ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“‘๐“ธ๐“ฝ๐“ฝ๐“ต๐“ฎ | ๐™ต๐š›๐šŠ๐š!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐š‚๐š˜๐š›๐š˜๐š›๐š’๐š๐šข!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•คt
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿš๐Ÿ™ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
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 โ™ฅ๏ธ
โ„๏ธ ๐“‘๐“ป๐“ช๐“ฝ ๐“’๐“ฑ๐“ป๐“ฒ๐“ผ๐“ฝ๐“ถ๐“ช๐“ผ | ๐™ณ๐™ธ๐™ป๐™ต!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ & ๐™ณ๐šŠ๐š›๐š”๐™ฑ๐š›๐šŠ๐š!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ™ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
Hooking up with your best friendโ€™s dad only to flirt with Topper at the holiday party, what could go wrong? Rafe will let you know (<- part of the โ€œmr cameronโ€ au but it will be written to be read alone)
โ„๏ธ ๐“œ๐”‚ ๐“–๐“ฒ๐“ป๐“ต | ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ฟ๐š˜๐š๐šž๐šŽ!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•š๐•”๐•– ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿž | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
Ward and Rose arenโ€™t your fans, but Rafe puts them in their place.
โ„๏ธ ๐“ ๐“๐“ธ๐“ท๐“ฎ๐“ผ๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ผ๐“ฎ ๐“’๐“ฑ๐“ป๐“ฒ๐“ผ๐“ฝ๐“ถ๐“ช๐“ผ | ๐™ฑ๐š˜๐š๐šข๐š๐šž๐šŠ๐š›๐š!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ฟ๐š˜๐š™๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ˜ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
I got the idea for this story after watching Sabrina Carpenterโ€™s Christmas Special! โ™ฅ๏ธ The premise is a popstar!reader who wants the attention of her handsome bodyguard, who seemingly has one interest: keeping her safe.
โ„๏ธ ๐“–๐“ธ๐“ธ๐“ญ ๐“–๐“ฒ๐“ป๐“ต | ๐™ท๐š˜๐šŒ๐š”๐šŽ๐šข!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ถ๐™ต!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ› | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
After a few drinks at a hockey party, Rafe gets teased about what a good girl you are, but Rafe knows the truth ๐Ÿ’‹
โ„๏ธ ๐“ค๐“ท๐”€๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ญ | ๐š‚๐š’๐š—๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐™ณ๐™ธ๐™ป๐™ต!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š๐šŽ!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ› | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
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
โ„๏ธ ๐“ฆ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฝ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“•**๐“ด ๐“ฒ๐“ผ ๐“š๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ด๐“ถ๐“ช๐“ผ, ๐“๐“ท๐”‚๐”€๐“ช๐”‚? | ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐šƒ๐šž๐š–๐š‹๐š•๐š›๐™ถ๐™ต!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿก | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
Rafe catches a buzzing in your nightstand and he can't help but take a peek
โ„๏ธ ๐“๐“ต๐”€๐“ช๐”‚๐“ผ ๐“œ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฎ | ๐™ณ๐šŠ๐š›๐š”๐™ฝ๐™ท๐™ป!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ฐ๐š—๐šŒ๐š‘๐š˜๐š›!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ™๐Ÿœ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
Journalist!Reader, Rafeโ€™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
โ„๏ธ ๐“’๐“ช๐“พ๐“ฐ๐“ฑ๐“ฝ | ๐šƒ๐š˜๐š™๐™ถ๐šž๐š—!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ผ๐šŠ๐šข๐š‹๐šŠ๐š—๐š”!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐ŸŸ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
Youโ€™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 canโ€™t quite hear itโ€ฆ
โ„๏ธ ๐“š๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“น ๐“œ๐”‚ ๐“—๐“ช๐“ฝ ๐“ž๐“ท | ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š ๐š‹๐š˜๐šข!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ฑ๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ™๐ŸŸ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
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 โ™ฅ๏ธ
โ„๏ธ ๐“”๐“ท๐“ฐ๐“ช๐“ฐ๐“ฎ๐“ถ๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ฝ | ๐™ฝ๐™ท๐™ป๐™ต๐š’๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒรฉ!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ต๐š’๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒรฉ!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•š๐•”๐•– ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿš | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
Celebrating your engagement with fiancรฉ Rafe
โ„๏ธ ๐“‘๐“ฎ๐“ฑ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ญ ๐“‘๐“ช๐“ป๐“ผ | ๐™ผ๐š˜๐š‹๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐š›!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™พ๐š๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š›!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿœ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
You know itโ€™s wrong, youโ€™d break Shoupeโ€™s heart, but who can deny Rafe Cameron?
โ„๏ธ ๐“ฃ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ฐ๐“ฑ ๐“›๐“ฎ๐“ผ๐“ผ๐“ธ๐“ท๐“ผ | ๐™ฟ๐š›๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐š˜๐š›!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š๐šŽ!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿš๐Ÿ˜ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
Professor!Rafe has been distant and now after cancelled plans you want to know what the hell is going on.
โ„๏ธ ๐“—๐“ธ๐“ต๐“ฒ๐““๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฎ | ๐™ต๐š›๐šŠ๐š!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ฟ๐š›๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐š˜๐š›!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
Rafe Cameron is nothing but trouble in class. When you see heโ€™s up for a date night auction for his frat house; you canโ€™t help but make a large anonymous donation, stealing him away for the night so you can have him all to yourself. Maybe heโ€™ll finally learn his lesson.
โ„๏ธ ๐“ก๐“ฒ๐“ฟ๐“ช๐“ต๐“ผ | ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š๐šŽ๐™ท๐š˜๐šŒ๐š”๐šŽ๐šข!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ฐ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š–๐š’๐šŒ๐š‚๐šŒ๐š‘๐š˜๐š•๐šŠ๐š›!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
Lovers to enemies to loversโ€ฆ A rough week between you and Rafe gets rougher after he catches you talking to someone else.
โ„๏ธ ๐“ข๐”€๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ฝ ๐“›๐“ฒ๐“ด๐“ฎ ๐“ข๐“พ๐“ฐ๐“ช๐“ป | ๐™ต๐š›๐šŠ๐š!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐šœ๐š๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ  | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
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
โ„๏ธ ๐“’๐“ช๐“ผ๐“พ๐“ช๐“ต | ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ฟ๐š˜๐š๐šž๐šŽ!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•š๐•”๐•– ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ™ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
Today you learned you were โ€œcasual,โ€ those words never left Rafeโ€™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.
โ„๏ธ ๐“–๐“ฒ๐“ฏ๐“ฝ ๐“”๐”๐“ฌ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ฐ๐“ฎ | ๐™พ๐™ต!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
Youโ€™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.
โ„๏ธ ๐“•๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ต๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ๐“ผ | ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š๐šŽ!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐šƒ๐š˜๐š™๐š™๐šŽ๐š›โ€™๐šœ๐™ถ๐™ต!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
*part of the โ€œSorry, Topโ€ AU โ€” writen to be read alone.
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ  | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
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 heโ€™s so adamant about the fact that heโ€™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, heโ€™s about ready to crash out
โ„๏ธ ๐“’๐“ธ๐“ฌ๐“ธ๐“ท๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“’๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ถ ๐“Ÿ๐“ฒ๐“ฎ | ๐™พ๐š•๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐™ฟ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŸ!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐šœ๐š๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•’๐•ฆ๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
*part of the โ€œMilkshakeโ€ AU โ€” writen to be read alone.
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ™๐Ÿก | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
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.
โ„๏ธ ๐“•๐“ต๐”‚๐“ซ๐“ธ๐”‚ | ๐šƒ๐š˜๐š™๐™ถ๐šž๐š—!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šก ๐™ฑ๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐š—๐šŠ!๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› โ„•๐•š๐•”๐•– ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•ค๐•ฅ
๐œ—๐œš โ„‚๐• ๐•ž๐•ก๐•๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•• ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš/๐Ÿ™๐Ÿž | ๐•ƒ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•œ
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 sheโ€™s ready to get married yetโ€ฆ that joke is starting not to feel like such a joke anymore. The reader isn't ready to give up her dream.
๐“‘๐“ธ๐“ท๐“พ๐“ผ: ๐“ก๐“ช๐“ฏ๐“ฎ ๐“’๐“ช๐“ถ๐“ฎ๐“ป๐“ธ๐“ท ๐“Ÿ๐“›๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ด ๐“›๐“ฒ๐“ซ๐“ป๐“ช๐“ป๐”‚
made with @rafesthroatbaby ๐Ÿฉท
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shrimpybbq ยท 6 months ago
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the cameron's go golfing
synopsis: Rafe teaches Charlie how to play golf, and to everyone's surprise, he is incredibly patient and gentle
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On a pleasant spring day, the Cameron family sauntered out onto the Kildare Island golf course, spending the weekend together doing a new activity. New for everyone bar Rafe, that is. Rafe loved golf, and often spent his weekends on the grass doing his best to clear his mind and wipe away the frustrations of dealing with his business partners and their dull chatter. He usually ended up there with Topper and the pair would aimlessly talk shit for a while before ending up at the country club bar with a beer in hand. This weekend was proving to be different, however.
โ€œCโ€™mon buddy, out you go,โ€ Rafe mumbled as he lifted Charlie down from the golf buggy. The small boy was dressed in what was almost a miniature version of his fatherโ€™s outfit - a pair of khaki shorts and a blue polo shirt, with a pair of white shoes to match. Rafe had rolled his eyes at the sight at first, but later begged his wife to take a picture of the pair matching. The father and son headed towards their starting marker, eagerly watched by the other members of their family. High school gf!reader sat comfortably in the buggy as a sleeping Emmy rested firmly against her chest. She had played golf more than once with Rafe, but today she felt more than happy to watch rather than join in. Even though she had no intent to join the game Rafe had still insisted she wear the golfing outfit he had bought her months ago, demanding that she show him the short white dress. Seeing his pretty wife in such a flattering outfit had certainly put him in a good mood, and if they had not already booked a cart they wouldโ€™ve arrived later to the course than expected.
Rafe stood with Charlie, placing the tiny club into his hand. He was only 3 but Rafe had purchased the clubs a year ago and was finally glad to have his son practice and experience them. โ€œOk little man, so you have to stand like this, facing the side. Plant your feet apart like this,โ€ he instructed, making sure Charlie mimicked his actions, โ€œand hold your club up the top.โ€ Watching the boy struggle to figure out his positioning spurred Rafe into action, crouching down by his sonโ€™s side and gently repositioning his body into the perfect stance. โ€œThere you go buddy, does that feel ok?โ€.
Charlie nodded eagerly towards his father, his full cheeks pulling into a wide grin. Rafe returned the smile and gestured for him to watch again, โ€œDaddyโ€™s gonna show you how to do it, and then you have a go.โ€ With that, he lined up his shot and with a moment of silence, sent the golf ball flying across the course towards the hole. The loud cheers and squeals that Charlie let out caught the attention of nearby players, one of them being none other than Topper Thornton. As he watched the way Rafe returned to his former crouched position beside his mini-me, he couldnโ€™t help but be surprised. Rafe was a tough guy, or at least that was the act he put on, and even though he had embraced being a father the past two years, he wasnโ€™t known for being an overly soft or affectionate guy. So to see him coddle and nurture his son was almost jarring to his friend, not ever having known Rafe to be patient or gentle with anyone.
Topper watched as the little boy swung and to everyoneโ€™s delight the ball travelled a substantial amount. The squeals of joy were again heard but this time, even Rafe let out a cheer. Topperโ€™s attention moved to the figures in the golf buggy, seeing high school gf!reader and Emmy seated comfortably. He almost envied the small family his friend now had, wondering what it would be like to have someone so steadfast by his side. Another cheer broke his thought process, this time seeing Rafe put the ball into the hole, all while Charlie clung to his fatherโ€™s pant leg. Another two attempts from Charlie had the ball landing in the hole, prompting his mother to clap and shout loudly, โ€œGo Charlie! Great job!โ€.
All watched as Rafe picked him up swiftly, letting him settle firmly into his arms. As Rafe looked down at his carbon-copy, he couldnโ€™t help but feel so proud of his boy. It had happened before, like when he first walked and talked, but every time his son achieved a milestone his heart just felt so full and like it could explode at any moment. At first it had scared him (and sometimes it still did) but now it reminded him of how far he had come, and how every decision he had made to get to this spot was worth it to be with his family.
โ€œYou did great, little man. Youโ€™re gonna be a great golfer like daddy, just you wait,โ€ Rafe praised.
Their attention was dragged back towards the golf cart as high school gf!reader called them back, the engine already on in preparation of moving to the next hole. โ€œCโ€™mon, letโ€™s go see your sister again.โ€
Still watching, Topper could only marvel at the sight of โ€˜family manโ€™ Rafe Cameron. His friend had really transformed for the better and even if he would give him a hard time for it next time they saw each other, he was secretly glad. Rafe had found his people and that made all the difference in who he was.
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This has been sitting in my requests for ages but I finally found the motivation to write it! Imagining Rafe being like this makes my heart swell.
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cameronsbabydoll ยท 2 months ago
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Can you please write a blurb about if Military!Rafeโ€™s son(s) talk back or have attitude with him or reader and how heโ€™d respond?
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the first time their son rolls his eyes at you, itโ€™s over something stupidโ€”chores, or screen time, or whatever twelve-year-olds think is worth throwing attitude over.
โ€œwatch your tone,โ€ you warn gently.
and he huffs. โ€œyeah, whatever.โ€
rafeโ€™s in the next room, but he hears it. of course he hears it. manโ€™s got battlefield ears, trained to catch the smallest shift in tone. and that whatever cuts through him like a shot.
he steps into the doorway, arms crossed, jaw tight.
โ€œsay it again.โ€
your son freezes. straightens a little.
rafe doesnโ€™t raise his voiceโ€”he doesnโ€™t have to. heโ€™s calm. deadly calm.
โ€œyou think you can talk to your mama like that?โ€
โ€œboy, iโ€™ve put men twice your size in the dirt for less disrespect.โ€
you place a hand on rafeโ€™s arm, a silent iโ€™ve got it, but he doesnโ€™t move.
โ€œgo on. apologize.โ€
โ€œโ€ฆsorry, mom.โ€
โ€œlook her in the eye when you say it,โ€ rafe adds, eyes locked on his son. โ€œand mean it.โ€
youโ€™ve never seen the kid nod so fast.
later, rafe will pull him asideโ€”talk to him man-to-man, remind him how lucky he is to have a mom who loves him enough to care what he does. remind him what kind of man heโ€™s expected to be in this house.
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cute-sucker ยท 1 year ago
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note: this is an unofficial part 2 of this boxer!rafe and his sweetheart <3
หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.หšโ€เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหš.
boxer!rafe can't stop thinking about you pregnant, and some would say he got more protective when you did get pregnant.
you weren't showing yet, but he was always keeping a watchful eye on you, protective hand wandering to your midsection.
after the scare you gave him at the games, he watched you all the time, willfully bringing home more food than was needed, feeling willing to come back home when he heard your whines through the phone, and buying you the most beautiful sundresses ever.
sometimes the two of you would spend more time together, looking out the balcony as he smoked a cigarette, and you looked outside with a dazed expression, hand stroking your stomach. he watched the way your nose wrinkled when a trendil of smoke reached your nose.
you made a screwed face, and then looked back at rafe with a pointed look, "i don't like that."
the next day all the cigarettes in your house were gone, and he went back to boxing. it was sweet the way your small proclamation could command him to do anything. sometimes you couldn't help but test it. test how much he loved you, and how willing he was go to. you knew it was bad the way you were acting, but you ached for the attention.
so it was all to plan when you woke up craving a burger.
not just any burger. it needed to be homemade, or even one of the burgers that rafe had made you during your first date. you remember it so clearly, the way his hand scimmed past your back as he helped you chop the cucumbers, a soft hand twirling a tendril of your hair.
it was all in your head, and suddenly you needed the burger with your life. you were pawing at his chest, soft whines leaving your mouth. he woke suddenly, taking a deep inhale of air.
"what's wrong?" he muttered, words slurred with sleep. you couldn't feel but feel bad as you pouted at him. you were wearing a pretty nightgown with a bow at the top. you watched him scan your swollen body.
you were pulling all the routes as you lowered your voice, "i need a burger."
he looked at you incredulously, eyebrows raised putting his rough hand on your shoulder, "right now?"
you frowned, before rubbing your stomach, "yes."
he groaned, falling back to head head first. you bit your tongue to stop giggles from spilling out of your mouth. he was so soft with you now, and you knew that months ago he would never act like this. but you couldn't help but tug at his arm as a grunt fell from his mouth.
"do you really need it, mama?"
now you couldn't stop your smile. you loved it when he called you 'mama,' and you loved the gentle tilt of his mouth when he called you that. and you rested your head back, nodding. finally, he gave an annoyed sigh before getting out of bed.
"goddamn it," he groaned, pulling a cleaner shirt up his head. you rested at his feet watching him put on his clothes. there was something so domestic about the whole scenario. tanyhilll was full of pictures of the two of you, small pieces of the two of you.
finally, as if he realised you were watching him, he scowled looking at you. still in your nightgown with a frenzied look on your face, he seemed to sigh again.
"ah, don't you think you should change?" he murmured, hands skimming over your top. you melted at his touch, practically hopping into his lap with eagerness. he let out a laugh before gently pushing you away, "listen. you gotta change out of that. can't have you looking like that."
you gave him a cheeky smile as if it was the middle of the day instead of three in the morning. somehow you found increasing amounts of energy and rafe was always confused about how you did it all.
"look like what?"
he shook his head, eyes flashing with slight annoyance, "nah. 'm not doing that today. get up bun, 'n go change."
although he sounded demanding you couldn't help but feel your heart drum harder at his words, biting your lip as you pulled on one of his old sweatshirts.
that night you got your burger, and he got you.
please let me know if you'd like to added to the boxer!rafe taglist!!
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rafelandia ยท 8 months ago
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Two Babies (dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)
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Word Count: 5.4k
Warnings:ย angst, mentions of smut, pregnancy
Summary:ย Y/N is pregnant again before sheโ€™s ready.
Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy my first Rafe one shot. I would love to expand on this couple so if you have any requests or any blurbs you'd like me to explore, please send me a message! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated - it helps more than you know. Happy reading :)
โ€œWell, well, well. If it isnโ€™t my favorite tiny human,โ€ the pediatrician chimed as she kicked the door to the small examination room shut with her sneaker.
โ€œYou must say that to all of the parents that you see,โ€ Y/N blushed, unable to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of her lips.
โ€œI do, but this is one of the rare times when I actually mean it. Those blonde curls! Are you freakin' kidding me?โ€
She padded over to the miniature exam table to get a better look at the infant that was lying contently on her back and chewing on her pudgy albeit still tiny fingers.ย 
โ€œLetโ€™s take a look at how youโ€™re doing, sweet pea.โ€
The doctor, Melanie, lifted the stethoscope that was looped around her neck and placed it into her ears. Listening to the babyโ€™s heartbeat to check for any abnormalities, she couldnโ€™t help but give a sympathetic frown when the tiny girl under her tensed up from the cool touch of the metal.
โ€œNurseโ€™s notes say sheโ€™s put on quite a bit. Sheโ€™s finally caught up to her age group in weight. Iโ€™m assuming breastfeeding is going better for you both now?โ€
Melanie lovingly squeezed the extra chub around the baby girl's thighs.
โ€œYeah. We donโ€™t really use bottles anymore. Finally got her to latch on and now it seems like all she wants to do it eat,โ€ Y/N chuckled.
โ€œGood! Thatโ€™s good. Thereโ€™s nothing wrong with formula like we talked about, so don't overexert yourself if becomes too demanding. Breastfeeding is cheaper though," Melanie chucked, though in her head she was kicking herself. As if this family is in any need to save money. "Is she hitting the milestones? Rolling over? Propping her head up? Babbling a bit?โ€ she continued.
โ€œBabbling, definitely. She keeps us up sometimes because we can hear her talking to herself through the monitor at night,โ€ Y/N poked her tongue out at her daughter in an attempt to get her to smile.
โ€œHaving a bit of trouble propping herself up though. She can only do it for a little bit and then sheโ€™ll give up. Sheโ€™s got Rafe's big head, so Iโ€™m sure itโ€™s a bit of a struggle.โ€
Melanie laughed loudly at the mention of her patientโ€™s father, admiring Y/N's wittiness even in the absence of her husband. Given the reputation of the Cameron family, others might think the couple were all work and no play, but Melanie had the privilege of getting to know them behind closed doors. While they took doctor's visits seriously, always paying close attention to what the doctors and nurses had to say regarding the health of their firstborn, her experience with the Cameron's changed her outlook completely. Y/N and Rafe were warm, welcoming, and quite funny sometimes - always making jests at each other or sharing little tid-bits of what their life is like at home. She wished everyone could see them this way. Melanie really wasn't lying when she doted on the little girl, they were the best.
โ€œSheโ€™ll get to it eventually. All babies are different. She seems to be coming along quite nicely, though. Nothing abnormal or anything to fuss about. A perfectly healthy six-month-old in my book.โ€
Y/N sighed in relief, though she knew there was nothing to worry over to begin with.
โ€œHowโ€™s mum doing? You taking care of yourself, too? Youโ€™re just as important as baby.โ€
โ€œWhen I can. Rafe's really good with her. Heโ€™ll take over when he sees me struggling, but it seems like she only wants me these days. Think I might be coming down with something, though. Iโ€™ve been feeling awful for a few weeks. Like I got hit by a train. I keep reminding myself to go get checked out, but I always get distracted taking care of her,โ€ Y/N gestured to her daughter that was now drooling onto the parchment liner and staring up at the ceiling as if there was something ornately interesting about the popcorn texture that had been stippled onto it.
โ€œWhen you say, โ€˜hit by a train,โ€™ what do you mean? I can examine you here if youโ€™d like. As long as itโ€™s nothing serious, I can send you something off to the pharmacy.โ€
Melanie re-fastened the snaps on the infantโ€™s onesie, making sure not to pinch her chunky legs and placed her back into her motherโ€™s lap.
โ€œUmmm,โ€ Y/N began, โ€œJust extra drained, I guess? Kinda nauseous. Iโ€™ve been getting migraines a lot and even when I do get a good nightโ€™s rest, I still feel like I could go back to bed for the rest of the day. Maybe Iโ€™m just exhausted, I donโ€™t really know. But it just feels a bit different than being worn out like I have been before.โ€
She could see the wheels in Melanie's head turning, noting each of her symptoms and trying to align them in a path that would lead her to the root of the problem.
โ€œCan I ask you something that might be a bit personal?โ€
Y/N nodded, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly along the bridge of her daughterโ€™s socked foot.
โ€œHave you and Rafe been intimate since she was born?โ€
She was taken aback by the question, not understanding where Melanie was going with this or why it was relevant.
โ€œUmm,โ€ Y/N stuttered, feeling a static-y surge of embarrassment travel up her neck and onto the sides of her face, โ€œYeah. We have.โ€
A whole fucking lot ever since Iโ€™ve been cleared for it, Y/N thought, but kept to herself.
โ€œAnd can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle ended?โ€
Then it clicked. She genuinely couldnโ€™t recall her most recent period and even the thought of what Melanie was alluding to made her stomach twist into thousands of tiny knots.
โ€œI- I donโ€™t know. Iโ€™ve been so busy with her I donโ€™t even really think about whatโ€™s going on with me half of the time.โ€
Y/N tried to make excuses, anything to avoid the obvious, but judging from the quizzical look on her daughterโ€™s pediatricianโ€™s face, she knew exactly where this was going.
โ€œThereโ€™s no way,โ€ she whispered, โ€œI canโ€™t be.โ€
Melanie's face dropped, now tender and apologetic when she realized that this was news Y/N was not ecstatic to hear.
โ€œI know Iโ€™m a pediatrician, so thatโ€™s obviously the first thing my mind goes to, but can we at least get you to take a blood test? That way weโ€™ll know for sure?โ€
//
Rafe came home to a quiet house. It wasnโ€™t unusual, but seeing as it was well after six oโ€™clock in the evening and his wife wasnโ€™t in the kitchen making the pasta dish she'd been dying for all week was. Their grocery store had been out of her favorite canned tomatoes for over a week and sheโ€™d nearly tackled Rafe to the ground out of excitement when heโ€™d come home from the grocery store with them the night before. Had he not seen her car in the driveway, he probably wouldnโ€™t have even suspected her to be home.
He checked the living room first, and it was desolate apart from the baby pink, quilted playmat on the floor that was littered with a few of his daughterโ€™s favorite rattles and teethers. Y/N's coat and purse were abandoned haphazardly on the couch, almost as if she tossed it aside in a hurry to get somewhere.
โ€œBaby?โ€ Rafe called out.
Nothing.
His head peaked into the nursery, stealthily and quietly in preparation to walk in on his daughter taking her scheduled nap before her actual bedtime. Heโ€™d gotten good at hushing his footfalls to almost complete silence as to not wake her, having made that mistake more than a handful of times.ย 
And he was right. There she was, sprawled out in her crib with her arms outstretched over her head like a tiny starfish. Her chubby cheeks were smushed against her bicep, drawing her lips open the tiniest bit so that Rafe could see the tops of her fleshy, pink gums and the barely-there nub of her first tooth peeking through. More than anything, he wanted to wake her up - lift her from the plush mattress and cuddle her close, shower her with kisses and tickle her with his scruff to hear those baby squeals he adored so much, but he needed to find Y/N first.
She had to be in their bedroom, he thought to himself. Maybe she was taking advantage of their baby girl napping to also get some rest. She had been rather exhausted lately. Maybe sheโ€™d had a rough day and was relaxing in the clawfoot, porcelain bathtub that had been the selling point of the home they now lived in. The houses on Figure Eight were lavish, but not all of the bathtubs were - at least that's what Y/N told Rafe. Who was he to question his bride?
Turns out he was right again. Like he had done with the nursery, he held the metal doorknob tightly in his grip to keep the hinges from creeking and pressed it open gently. The room was completely dark, but he could make out the lump underneath the duvet on their king-sized bed as his wife.ย 
Good. She was sleeping.ย 
He padded across the hardwood floor, still being as quiet as he could until he crossed the threshold of the bathroom. There, he rid himself of the uncomfortable clothes heโ€™d been wearing all day. Curse these professional business meetings that forced him to dress nicely.ย 
All throughout the meetings, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his wife and baby, cuddling the afternoon away and watching shitty reality television while his daughter cooed and grunted and gurgled in her baby voice that he loved so much and could listen to all day. He wasn't always this way - he used to love this shit, but something inside him changed indefinitely when his daughter was born. Rafe was a softy now and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Maybe it was the fact that heโ€™d been having to partake in these boring work meetings a lot more lately, which caused him to miss even the smallest aspects of his everyday life like changing diapers or checking the baby monitor eight hundred times throughout the day to make sure his daughter was still breathing. Perhaps heโ€™d just been getting sentimental because she was growing so much these days, but it was an unpleasant feeling nonetheless.
His thoughts were interrupted when he deposited his heavy watch into the dish he kept on the counter and he heard a quiet yet still prominent sniffle among the clattering of metal against the glass dish.
โ€œBaby? You awake?โ€ Rafe peaked his head out from beyond the bathroom door.ย 
He saw her body shift under the covers, but she gave no response. So he called out again.
โ€œYou sick or something? Can hear you sniffling."
Nothing.
Pivoting back around to the inside of the bathroom, he quickly shut off the light and carried himself over to her side of the bed where he could see her properly. Her face was tucked into her chin and all that was visible to him was the top of her head.
โ€œHey,โ€ Rafe cooed, petting what he could reach of her hair and speaking even gentler than he had been,ย โ€œWhatโ€™s wrong?โ€
And thatโ€™s when he heard it - an almost inaudible choking sound of Y/N trying to catch her breath that immediately let him know she wasnโ€™t sick. She had been crying.
โ€œWhoa, baby,โ€ he was already pulling the covers back with force, honestly not caring whether or not she minded the intrusion.
โ€œTell me whatโ€™s going on.โ€
She was emotionless when he saw what little he could her face, her puffy, bloodshot eyes and swollen lips illuminated by the hallway light being the only indicator that she was upset. She didnโ€™t even react to Rafe tugging her head out from where it had been buried in the covers, simply rolling onto her back to stare idly at the ceiling.
โ€œY/N,โ€ he called for his wife again, this time much more stern,ย โ€œYouโ€™ve got to talk to me.โ€
She took several deep breaths through her nose, allowing her lungs to fill to their maximum capacity before exhaling with a sigh. Rafe could have sworn she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room along with his patience each time she did so.ย 
After what felt like ages, she parted her lips to speak.
โ€œI went to the doctor today.โ€ย 
โ€œYeah? For the six-month check up, right?โ€ Rafe asked, not seeing why that was important but his mind quickly went to the worst scenario possible despite having just seen his daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib. He cut his eyes towards the hallway in the direction of her nursery before looking back to Y/N.
โ€œIs she alright?โ€ his voice now demanding urgency in the delivery of her response.
โ€œSheโ€™s fine,โ€ she quickly dismissed him, internally kicking herself for making Rafe worry.
โ€œI was telling Melanie about how sick Iโ€™ve been lately and she -,โ€ Y/N gulped and rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes, bracing herself for whatever events unfolded after she said what she was about to say.
โ€œShe, umm. She made me take a pregnancy test.โ€
Now it was Rafe turn to be speechless. He stared at her with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly agape. His palms suddenly felt clammy against the white sheets that they rested on and his stomach felt like it had turned in on itself from how badly it was churning. Of all of the things he had expected to be wrong with her, this was certainly the last on the list.ย 
โ€œAnd?โ€ he asked after what felt like an eternity of staring at her and saying absolutely nothing, though he already knew the answer.
โ€œTen weeks.โ€
Silent tears now spilled over her eyes and down past her temples. She couldnโ€™t even be bothered to wipe them, instead letting them dampen a small patch of hair on either side of her head. Pregnancies werenโ€™t supposed to be sad, but somehow, she had barely been able to stop crying since she left the pediatricianโ€™s office.
โ€œHow,โ€ Rafe whispered, moreso to himself than to her.
โ€œI think you know how babies are made, Rafeโ€ Y/N quipped.
โ€œThat's not what I meant,โ€ Rafe fired back just as quickly,ย โ€œItโ€™s just...Sheโ€™s still so little.โ€
He thought of his daughter asleep in the next room. She was the most perfect thing heโ€™s ever seen and on the day that she was born, he knew he wanted nothing more than to fill his and Y/Nโ€™s house with as many blonde, chubby babies as he could fit beds in each room. He just hadnโ€™t expected that his only childโ€™s first birthday present would be the gift of being a big sister.ย 
It was all too sudden.
โ€œI just donโ€™t know how I didnโ€™t see it sooner. I mean,โ€ Y/N raised her arms above her head before huffing and letting them fall to her sides,ย โ€œI guess I was just so caught up with the baby that I hadnโ€™t even had a second to think about whatโ€™s going on with me. Itโ€™s like I donโ€™t even matter anymore and I-โ€
โ€œHey, hey now. Don't do that,โ€ Rafe shushed her and curled up next to her frame as she began to sob.
He tucked her head into his neck, hugging her chest tightly as if he was trying to hold the pieces of her together before she shattered. His mind was running a mile per minute. It killed him to see her like this, killed him to be in this situation. The last time they had found out this news, there were happy tears - tears of shock and excitement about taking the next step in building a family. Never had he imagined that the next time they were presented with the very same news, that there would be tears of sadness.
Her voice was muffled against his now wrinkled button-down, but he could still make out what she was saying beneath her blubbers.
โ€œI canโ€™t do this.โ€
โ€œWhat do you mean, honey? Of course you can. I can take more time off work like last time and let the boys handle everything for a bit. I know it's not ideal, but weโ€™ll be alright,โ€ he ran his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.
โ€œThatโ€™s the problem, Rafe.โ€
He lifted his chin from here it was resting on the top of her head to look down at her.
โ€œWhat?โ€
โ€œIt's not ideal. You've only just now gotten back to work full time. You said everything almost fell apart while you were gone. It would fuck everything up. Plus, she's only six months old, Rafe. I can't go through that again so soon."
Rafe paused to break away from her and sit up straight against the headboard,ย โ€œAre you serious? Of course I can take more time off work. You are more important than anything that could possibly be going on at the office.โ€ He was a bit stunned by her words. She almost sounded annoyed, which didn't sit quite right with Rafe.
โ€œBut do you see whatโ€™s happening? Everything is fucked.โ€
His voice wasnโ€™t so calm anymore.
โ€œNo, Y/N. I honestly donโ€™t. I mean I know this is all happening much earlier than we expected, but what else is there to do? Will you please tell me what you're getting at, because Iโ€™m starting to get upset.โ€ย 
Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line and his nostrils flared with every breath. Why was she being like this?ย 
โ€œI donโ€™t know what Iโ€™m fucking getting at. Iโ€™m just overwhelmed."
โ€œAnd you think Iโ€™m not? I'm trying my best to keep it together for your sake if you havenโ€™t noticed,โ€ it almost condescending the way the words rolled off his tongue.
โ€œOh, excuse me,โ€ Y/N laughed sarcastically.
โ€œDidnโ€™t realize you were the one that's pregnant. Didnโ€™t realize youโ€™re the one that has to grow all big and gross and swollen and be in pain every fucking day to the point where walking to the bathroom feels like a fucking marathon. Didnโ€™t realize youโ€™re the one that has to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out for hours and then just have to lay there while a doctor youโ€™ve never seen before stitches you up because it literally tore your insides apart. Didnโ€™t realize you-โ€
โ€œFor fuckโ€™s sake, I get it!โ€ Rafe was yelling now. They hadn't argued like this since they were much younger, and he absolutely hated it.
โ€œItโ€™s not the same and Iโ€™m sorry for suggesting that it was.ย I'm not sure what you want me to say though. Iโ€™m sorry?ย Is that it? Sorry for getting you pregnant? Sorry for having a job that helps us get anything we want for ourselves and our family? Sorry that I do everything I possibly can to keep you and the baby and everyone else on the fucking planet happy?โ€
โ€œYouโ€™re being an asshole, Rafe,โ€ she was just as angry as he was, scowl evident on her face even in their dimly lit bedroom.
โ€œAnd youโ€™re not making any fucking sense! Are you telling me you donโ€™t want to keep it?ย Because I never fucking said that you have to.โ€
The thoughtย hadย crossed her mind on the drive home from the doctorโ€™s office, but the feeling left as quickly as it approached. Sheโ€™d taken one look at her daughter in her car seat through the rear view mirror happily sucking on her teether and knew without a doubt that she couldnโ€™t.
She felt a tidal wave of fresh, salty tears peaking and about to crash over her.
โ€œI donโ€™t want - fuck,โ€ she put her head in her hands.ย 
โ€œI just-,โ€ and then she broke.
Sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake up and down. She wasnโ€™t even sure how she had any more left to get out, but it just kept coming. Over and over and over again until it felt like she was being suffocated and that no one was going to save her. She felt Rafe's hands move to rest on her shoulder blades and heard gentle, cooing-like sounds coming out of his mouth, but she couldnโ€™t make out what he had said over the sounds of her own wailing.
โ€œBaby, itโ€™s okay. Just breathe. Itโ€™s alri-โ€
His attempt at subduing her was cut short by shrill cries coming from the digital monitor that sat on their nightstand. Rafe peeked over his shoulder at the screen, seeing that their daughter had woken from her nap and was now demanding the attention of her parents. He couldnโ€™t help but wince as he watched her socked feet flail around in the crib; it was without a doubt that the screaming match theyโ€™d just had that stirred her from her sleep, and that hurt him just as much as it did to see his wife crying right in front of him.
Y/N heard it too, somehow. Perhaps it was because sheโ€™d been trained to react to every minute sound that she made and could recognize her cries from a mile away in the paralyzing fear that something was wrong with her or maybe it was because she looking for any and every excuse to get Rafe's handsย off of herย so she could get away from him and escape the argument theyโ€™d just had without making the situation any worse than it already was. Regardless, she turned her own neck to peer at the monitor and sighed heavily.
โ€œIโ€™ll go, Y/N. Just stay here.โ€
โ€œNo. I got it. Itโ€™s after seven. Sheโ€™s probably hungry.โ€
She shrugged Rafe's hands away from her shoulders like his touch physically pained her and climbed over his body and off the bed without another word, not even giving Rafe the chance to take her hand and help her over the edge of the mattress. He knew she wasnโ€™t going anywhere but down the hall and into the nursery, but he couldnโ€™t help but feel like she was walking away from everything.
//
Y/N stared her daughter while she nursed. She started from the top of her head that was riddled with sandy blonde curls and worked her way down to the tips of her toes that would occasionally flex themselves out of habit. Her hair? Undoubtedly Rafe's. Her eyes? A perfect, entrancing shade of blue akin to Rafe's. Her lips? The same almost inhuman shade of fleshy pink, just like Rafe's. Surprisingly, the only physical trait sheโ€™d inherited from her mother was her nose, which was funny considering that Y/N had always hated hers.
She was content, suckling away at Y/Nโ€™s breast - her cries of hunger long forgotten. The infant hadnโ€™t even flinched when a few more of Y/Nโ€™s silent, cold tears spilled over and left small wet spots where her onesie rested over her belly. She had no idea that her parents were upset with each other and she had no idea that in a little more than six months time, sheโ€™d be a big sister and there would be two babies fighting for their attention. Y/N was also clueless, but only as to how she was going to take care of a newborn and a one-year-old simultaneously. Sheโ€™d always thought sheโ€™d have more time than this - more time to spend with just her daughter and Rafe before they decided to have another, but just like her eyes, things always had a funny way of never working out in her favor.
Three soft knocks on the wall withdrew her from her thoughts and she was greeted by her husband idling in the doorway like he needed permission before entering a room in his own house. It was off seeing Rafe Cameron this way - being the one with his tail tucked beneath his legs. It was usually the opposite. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now clad in his favorite pair of sweats that were permanently stained with spit-up. Y/N had tried everything under the sun to get the spots out, but heโ€™d been persistent on not throwing them out.
โ€œCan I come in?โ€
His voice was barely above a whisper and much calmer than when heโ€™d been yelling at her about twenty minutes ago. He still hesitated crossing the threshold even after Y/N had given him a skeptical nod, but allowed his bare feet to pad over the plush carpet as he joined her on the loveseat in the far corner of the nursery.
He watched their daughter just as Y/N had, taking in her tranquil state as her fingers brushed reflexively against the underside of Y/Nโ€™s breast. Heโ€™d never been able to pry his eyes away every time he watched her nurse. There were no ulterior motives behind it whatsoever. It amazed him each and every time, how Y/N was able to provide their child with everything that they needed to grow with only her body. At first, Y/N hated that Rafe loved sitting in on her feedings, feeling exposed and unattractive despite Rafe's continuous affirmations that it was the most beautiful thing heโ€™d ever had the privilege of witnessing, but over time sheโ€™d grown fond of it.
โ€œI'm sorry for yelling at you,โ€ Rafe started.
โ€œIt was uncalled for,โ€ she quipped.
Y/N sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes with the back of her free hand that wasnโ€™t supporting her daughterโ€™s back as she held her.
โ€œItโ€™s okay. It was a lot to take in. Iโ€™m sorry for yelling at you too.โ€
She couldnโ€™t quite look him in the eye just yet, but she was slowy but surely getting there.
โ€œIt's not okay, actually. Youโ€™re right. Iโ€™m not the one having the baby. Itโ€™s you thatโ€™s got to do all the hard stuff and I know how scary it was last time. I should've been more considerate before jumping the gun.โ€
He shifted towards her on the cushions, afraid to touch her just yet but still yearning to be closer to her.
The best Y/N could muster was a quiet,ย โ€œThank you,โ€ before she busied herself by attempting to run her fingers through her babyโ€™s hair and untangle the mess sheโ€™d created while she was sleeping.
โ€œCan I hold you? Please?โ€ his voice was quiet and pleading.
Now was when she turned to face him and she was met with eyes that were just as red-rimmed as hers. She had heard the bathroom sink running for an abnormally long amount of time and a hard, frustrated pounding against the wall shortly after sheโ€™d gone off in the nursery to feed the baby, which meant he must have been trying to muffle the sounds of his own crying when she left their bedroom.
Y/N didnโ€™t say anything, only shifting her weight onto one side so Rafe could easily lift her onto his lap in one swift movement without disturbing their daughter. He tucked her shoulder into his neck and softly kissed her skin and his hands moved to mimic hers so they were both holding the baby that was nodding off again in their arms. She found herself relaxing into his loose grip, her head tilting to the side to rest against his.ย 
โ€œI love you so much. You know that? Iโ€™d drop everything for you if I had to. I don't care about any of it anymore.โ€
โ€œNo, you wouldnโ€™t,โ€ she refuted, but there was no malice in her tone.
โ€œI wouldnโ€™t let you. You try to play it cool and I know that things are different now, but I also know that deep down you really like what you do.โ€ The corner of Rafe's lips turned upwards, suppressing a chuckle at the fact that she really does know him that well.
โ€œWell, just know that I would if you wanted me to. Iโ€™ve thought about it a thousand times. I want to be here for you. For her. Donโ€™t want to miss anything. I finally got my shot at being normal when I met you and I hate myself sometimes when I think about all of the bullshit I've put you through.โ€
โ€œDonโ€™t,โ€ Y/N paused to press a chaste kiss to Rafe's cheek.
โ€œYouโ€™re a good person, Rafe's. A good dad. A good husband. Please donโ€™t ever think that youโ€™re not.โ€
She felt moisture pool in the dips of her collarbones where Rafe's chin lied, but she didnโ€™t acknowledge it.
โ€œIโ€™ll be okay. Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. Think I just need some time to get used to it all. Just wasnโ€™t expecting Melanie to drop the ball that I was pregnant when all I was expecting was for her to tell me that our kid is in the 99th percentile for weight and then send me on my way.โ€
This got a chuckle out of him, almost causing him to choke on his tears. He quickly rubbed the sleeves of his sweatshirt against his eyes to dry up any remaining wet spots on his face.ย 
โ€œShe is pretty chunky, isnโ€™t she?โ€ Rafe jested while thumbing over his daughterโ€™s rounded tummy.
After a moment of admiring their little chunk of a baby, with her milk-drunk eyes and puckered lips, Rafe spoke again.
โ€œTwo babies,โ€ he huffed.
โ€œTwo babies,โ€ she repeated.
His hands moved to caress Y/Nโ€™s stomach. She wasnโ€™t showing yet considering that neither of them had even known Y/N was pregnant until today, but he still held her like her belly was the size of a watermelon and he was waiting anxiously to feel a hand or a foot press up against his palm.
โ€œMight be kinda nice. They can share everything and weโ€™ll only have to have one birthday party because theyโ€™ll be born around the same time. Theyโ€™ll go to the same school and probably have the same friends. Kinda like twins.โ€
โ€œAre you hearing yourself? Rafe Cameron? The party connoisseur? Suggesting his two precious babies share a birthday party?โ€
Rafe pursed his lips and blushed, recalling the fact that he'd already planned his daughter's first birthday in his head. Down to the tablecloth colors and dinnerware.
โ€œGot me there,โ€ Rafe chuckled.
Their banter was interrupted by a grueling rumbling sound coming from Y/Nโ€™s stomach that Rafe could feel throughout his entire body.
โ€œJesus, Y/N. You hungry too? Whenโ€™s the last time you ate?โ€
โ€œUhh...this morning I think?โ€ Y/N sighed.
โ€œCouldnโ€™t stomach anything when I got home.โ€
Rafe's heart dropped when he thought of how distraught sheโ€™d been all day while he was gone and with everything in him, heโ€™d wished he would have postponed his meetings to go to check up with her and they could have found out together.
โ€œFound those tomatoes at the store the other day, remember? Want me to make that pasta for you?โ€
โ€œOhh, yes please,โ€ she immediately perked up at the thought.
โ€œStarting to wonder if that was a craving now that I think about it. Didnโ€™t we have it, what? Three nights in a row a while back?โ€ she proposed.
Rafe giggled as he reluctantly removed Y/N from his lap and stood up from the sofa.
โ€œThought it was a bit weird that you wanted it so badly, but I know better than to question you.โ€
โ€œSheโ€™s going back down. If you give me a minute, Iโ€™ll come downstairs and help you,โ€ Y/N said, pulling up the straps of her tank top after realizing her daughter had long since forgotten about her breast and was conked out in her arms.
โ€œI've got it, mamaโ€ Rafe quickly refuted. โ€œTake a bath or something and Iโ€™ll bring it up when itโ€™s done.โ€
โ€œOkay.โ€
Y/N couldnโ€™t fight the grin growing on her face at the nickname Rafe used that she still hadnโ€™t gotten used to.
When she placed their daughter soundly in her crib, Y/Nโ€™s fingers stayed put from where they sat on the railing as she caught herself staring at the sleeping infant once more. Though sheโ€™d felt like her world was caving in on her just a handful of hours ago, the pieces were all coming back together now.ย 
Of course, she wanted more children with Rafe. And now she was getting what she wanted. Just like heโ€™d told her back in the bedroom, it wasnโ€™t ideal, but theyโ€™d make it work. They always did.ย 
With two babies.
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totalswag ยท 1 year ago
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fourth july โ€” RAFE CAMERON
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authors note hope everyones being safe today and having a good time. this is kinda short but hope you lovies like it. summer time in the obx sounds looks so much fun. i don't think i've written about dad!rafe yet or maybe i have but either way, rafe is such a girl dad.
summary spending the summer day with friends and family by the pool, barbecuing, and lighting fireworks at night.
warnings swearing, happy moments, kissing, loud fireworks.
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Friends and family were surrounded in your backyard, in the pool, on the patio, with children running around and cooking. It's a lovely summer day in Kildare, where friends and family are gathering.
Today is the Fourth of July. Rafe and you agreed a few weeks ago that you would like to have everyone come to your house by eating, swimming, eating, and then watching fireworks at night.
You were at the shallow end of the pool with your seven-month-old daughter, Layla, her small hands clutching yours as she stamped against the water, making everyone around giggle.
Layla's tiny hands gripped your fingers tightly, her chubby legs kicking up water in all directions. The sheer joy on her face was a delight to see.
"She's a natural," Sarah said from her lounge chair, sipping a refreshing lemonade. "Already a little mermaid."
You smiled, her heart flooding with affection for her tiny girl. "She sure is," you said, adjusting Layla's sunhat to block the harsh sunlight.
Layla was surprised to see kids swimming and bouncing in the water. She drew her body towards the kids as you lifted her up beneath her armpits, drawing her towards them.
You're so cute
I wanna hold her
Layla do you like to water?
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Rafe stood nearby, engaged in conversation with Topper and Kelce. Layla had grown tired of the water and was now perched on Rafe's hip, her tiny fingers entwined with his gold chain. She babbled happily, occasionally tugging on the chain, making the guys laugh.
You were near all the snacks with your girlfriends chatting it up too.
The three were talking about typical guy stuff.
"She's got a good grip there," Kelce remarked, grinning.
"Yeah, you sure she won't rip it off?" Topper added.
"She knows what she likes," Rafe stated proudly, kissing Layla on the forehead. The sight of Rafe seamlessly mixing fatherhood with his typical friendship was wonderful.
Layla has always had this fascination with Rafe's chain the moment she was able to grab onto things. The main thing is the chain; Rafe has talked about getting her one with her name on it when she turns one in a few months.
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As the day progressed into the evening, everybody went from the pool to the front yard. Lawn chairs and blankets were put out in preparation for the fireworks display.
The kids were able to set up s'mores on the side while they sat on the blanket on the grass watching neighbors light their fireworks.
Layla is wrapped in a comfortable blanket and nestled in your arms. She looked at you with her beautiful blue eyes, babbling in baby talk; you responded back even though you dont like what she's saying.
Rafe approached Layla with a pair of baby headphones and carefully placed them over her ears. "We don't want her to be scared of the noise," he murmured quietly, his eyes finding yoursย with a loving expression.
Layla grins softly at Rafe, hiding her face in your chest when he playfully tickles under her chin.
The first firework launched into the sky, resulting in a shower of bright sparks. The audience cheered, their faces illuminated by the glow. Layla's eyes widened with surprise, yet she remained calm and secure in your grip.
Sarah had her phone out, taking pictures and videos. She caught Layla at the perfect moment, focused on the fireworks and occasionally making perplexed facial expressions in response to particular fireworks.
"Please send that to me as soon as you can," you laugh, pointing at Sarah. "Do not worry, I will send you everything," she says with a smile on her face.
A few minutes later, Rafe approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder, and kissing your cheek.
"I love you girls so much."
"And we love you so much, Handsome."
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my taglist!
โœฐ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.
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sematarygirls ยท 9 months ago
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โ€‚โ€‚โ€‚EX-CONVICT!BABYDADDY!RAFE x FEM!READER
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WARNINGS .แŸโ€‚unprotected p in v, breeding kink if you squint, heavyyyy angst, rafe being an asshole (as per usual), brief mentions of guns/police raid and drugs
NOTES .แŸโ€‚guys, i need him so bad, like actually. based on this concept from my silly little brain. dad!rafe stays in my mind 24/7, but this is me we're talking about, so of course, i had to put a lil spin on it. also this turned out way longer than i meant it to, woah
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After almost four years, you were finally starting to feel like you were getting your shit together. You were living in a nice house in a nice neighborhood where everyone knew everyoneโ€”the kind of place where people literally asked their neighbors for cups of sugar. You had a stable job that allowed you to live comfortably and provide for yourself and your daughter, and you had a big St. Bernard, lovingly named Moonshine after you'd watched one too many episodes of Moonshiners, that provided a sense of safety and security when the nights were cold and the paranoia started to creep into your mind.
Being a single mom was not easy, and it definitely hadn't been a part of your life plan, but then, you met Rafe Cameronโ€”the ever charming, sweet talking man that he was. He swept you up and made you feel like the only girl in the world, like nothing else mattered as long as you were by his side, so when you found out you were pregnant, you were over the moon at the idea of starting a family with him.
But Rafe Cameron was a liar. He was selfish and manipulative, and he turned your life right on it's head.
You could still remember the day the police kicked in the door of your apartment, bursting in with guns drawn, pointed directly at you. You were eight months pregnant and having a gun pointed at youโ€”at your babyโ€”made you physically ill.
They had raided the apartment and found copious amounts of drugs. Your heart dropped, and you immediately felt like an idiot. How had you not known? You knew he made more money than he realistically should have, but the thought never even crossed your mind that this could be the reason. You were heartbroken and angry. Angry that he had lied. Angry that he put you in this position. And, angry that he was leaving you.
Rafe was arrested, and eventually charged with possession with intent to distribute due to the amount of drugs they found, which resulted in a five year sentence. You were sad and angry, not only because you were losing the man you always thought was the love of your life, but also because now, you were alone, and your daughter wouldn't know her father for the first five years of her life.
This anger and resentment festered, mixing with longing and a deep, aching sadness. You couldn't bring yourself to answer his calls or letters, let alone visit him. You didn't know who he was anymore. The man that you saw sporting handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit at his trial was not the same man you fell in love with, and you wouldn't pretend like he was.
You had known Rafe's release date was approaching, but you were under the impression that you still had a little over a year to plan on what you were going to do when it finally came. That's why you were so unsuspecting when you went to answer the harsh knock at your door.
It was a Thursday night, and you were cuddled up on the couch with Moonshine, who was practically the size of you. A horror movie was playing on the TV before you, one you'd seen practically a million times, and every few minutes, your gaze would flicker to the baby monitor on the coffee table that displayed the feedback from a camera in your daughter, Rhiannon's, room.
You jumped a little at the harsh sound of a knock on your front door, the horror movie already having you on edge. You could be paranoid sometimes, especially being a single mom, so realistically, you knew you shouldn't have been watching it so late at night, but they were your guilty pleasures that you couldn't indulge in the light of day because of your toddler.
Moonshine immediately jumped up, a low growl escaping his throat as his hair stood on end. Your brows furrowed at his odd behavior, pausing the movie and unfurling yourself from your comfortable position. Your steps were soft on the hardwood, your socks cushioning the sound as you padded over to the front door, patting the dog's head comfortingly as you unlocked the door, completely unaware with what would greet you on the other side.
As you opened the door, the cool night air hit you, carrying with it the faint scent of cigarette smoke. You blinked in surprise, expecting to see a neighbor, but instead, you found yourself face to face with Rafe Cameron.
Your eyes widened, the air knocked from your lungs as you took him in. He was changed, broader and more imposing, his muscles flexing under his tight black t-shirt as he crossed his arms. His hair was buzzed, his chiseled jawline sporting stubble that made him look older, more mature.
He looked so different, but still, somehow, the same. You were hit by a wave of emotionsโ€”longing, love, sadness, but most presently, anger. Who did he think he was showing up unannounced in the middle of the night after all these years, especially looking so unapologetic and devastatingly handsome.
His piercing blue eyes bore into yours, captivating and dangerous like a wave pulling you under when you least expected it. "Hey, baby," he greeted, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping off his tongue. The term of endearment fell from his lips without any semblance of warmth as he stared at you with an intensity that made you want to shrink in on yourself.
"What are you doing here?" You asked, your jaw clenching and grip on the door's edge tightening. You shivered a little as the cold air bit at your bare skin, barely registering the low growls of Moonshine behind you due to your tunnel vision on the man standing before you.
He smirked confidently, knowing the effect he had on youโ€”the effect he always had on you. His eyebrow arched as he took in your appearance, his eyes lingering on your bare thighs, courtesy of your pajama shorts. "Aren't you going to invite me in, sweetheart? It's been a long time." He took a step forward, his broad frame filling the doorway intimidatingly.
You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to step back and let him intimidate you into getting what he wanted. You craned your neck to look up at him, his close proximity looming over you, making him seem even taller and more imposing than he already was. "And whose fault is that?" You managed to say, despite the pit in your stomachโ€”a mix of dread, anxiety, and strangely, desire.
Rafe's gaze sharpened, his eyes glinting dangerously. He uncrossed his arms and braced one hand on the doorframe beside your head, leaning in closer. It made your breath catch in your throat, but you held firm. You couldn't let him see that he was getting to you. "Let me in," he clenched his jaw. His anger at you for abandoning him in there had been bubbling up, and your defiance was bringing it to the surface.
A light flickering on in the house across the street caught your eye. Old lady Flanigan had a habit of making everyone else's business, her business, and she was a nasty gossip. Unless you wanted people talking, you either had to let him in or get him to leave, and one of those would be a nearly impossible feat. "Rafe, you can't be here. You can't just barge back into my life after all this time," you told him firmly, your own eyes blazing with a fiery intensity.
"And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. His body was practically vibrating with pent-up anger, his muscles taut as he leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your face. "Did you ever think about me? Did you ever think about what you did to us?"
"What I did?" You scoffed, anger bubbling up inside you at his accusation, blaming you as if he wasn't the one that went to prison and left you alone. "Are you fucking kidding me?" The old woman across the street was now shamelessly watching through her window, and you knew you had no choice but to let him in before her nosey ass called the cops on the strange, clearly out of place man lurking in the neighborhood.
He followed your eyes, looking over his shoulder to the nosy neighbor, his expression darkening. Without another word, he pushed past you, entering the house and forcing you to step back.
Your jaw clenched at his blatant disregard or respect for your wishes as you gently closed the door behind you. Moonshine barked, baring his teeth at the intruder, clearly sensing the tension and jumping into action to protect his family. "Moonshine, stop," you told him firmly. You were proud of him, but you didn't want his barking to wake Rhiannon. The last thing you could deal with right now was Rafe and a crying toddler. You could only focus on one temper tantrum at a time.
Rafe's eyes narrowed as he watched you control your dog, a muscle ticking in his jaw. His gaze then swept the interior of your home, taking in every detail as if memorizing it. "Nice place," he commented flatly, turning back to face you. "Where's my kid?"
You took a deep breath, your gaze hard at him calling your daughter his kid, like he had any right. He didn't even know her name or that she was a girl. "She's asleep," you told him, crossing your arms over your chest.
His piercing eyes bore into yours, unyielding. "Her name." he demanded gruffly.
"Rhiannon," you informed him hesitantly, your gaze darting to the monitor on the coffee table, making sure she was still asleep.
His expression flickered briefly, a flash of something softer, almost vulnerable, in his eyes before it was quickly concealed. He nodded once. "I want to see her." It wasn't a request. His posture remained tense and coiled, ready to react to your response.
You huffed, running a hand through your hair and heading to the kitchen with him hot on your heels. Maybe you wanted to busy yourself. Maybe you wanted an excuse not to have to look at him. Maybe you just wanted to walk away from him, to assert some kind of power. Either way, your next words were spoken with your back to him. "I told you. She's asleep. It's the middle of the fucking night, Rafe, what did you expect?"
He followed you into the kitchen, his presence overwhelming in the small space. The air felt charged, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. "I don't give a fuck what time it is," he growled, his voice low and intense. "I've missed four years of her life already."
You rounded the kitchen island, planting your hands on it as you turned to face him, feeling more comfortable with the counter between you. Not because you were scared of him but because, despite yourself and despite your anger, you longed to touch him and have him touch you. "And whose fucking fault is that, huh?" You asked angrily, echoing your earlier words that he had ignored.
Rafe's expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he stared back at you. The muscle in his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth together, trying to rein in his anger. "Yours," he bit out. "You left me in there," he accused.
"You left me out here!" Your voice raised slightly before you caught yourself, letting out a hard breath. The only way you could keep yourself from getting sad, from crying over the loss of the only man you'd ever truly loved, was getting angry at him.
"You think I wanted to go to prison?" He hissed, rounding the island and backing you against the counter. "You think I had a fucking choice?"
"You did have a choice," you said sharply, bracing your hands on the counter behind you as you stared up at him. "You chose to deal drugs, and you chose to keep dealing even after you found out I was pregnant. Prison was just the consequence of all your shitty choices."
His hand came up, slamming on the cabinet beside your head, the sound making you jump slightly. "And what about you?" He seethed, his chest heaving as his breath came in short, angry bursts. "What about your choices, huh? You could've waited for me."
"I did what I had to do," you said, glaring at him. You weren't quite sure what else to say. You had to protect yourself, your own feelings, and your child. You couldn't have stayed in touch, sick with worry every night while you soothed a colicky baby all by yourself. You had to forget him; it was better that way, easier.
"What you had to do," he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm and the faintest hint of hurt. "You moved on pretty quick, didn't you? Found some new dick to warm your bed, is that it?"
"Fuck you," you spat, the words stabbing you like a knife to the heart. You hadn't been able to bring yourself to even look at another man since he went away. You told yourself it was just because of Rhiannon, that you were focusing on raising her and being the best mother you could be, but deep down, you knew it was because your heart would always belong to Rafe.
"Is that it?" he repeated, his face inches from yours. His voice was low, his eyes searching yours for something. "You found some other man to replace me?"
"Maybe I have," you said stubbornly. You knew you were being petty, wanting him to hurt like you hurt, but you also knew you were a shit liar, so there was no way in hell he would actually believe you. "Maybe I have moved on."
His other hand shot out, gripping your chin roughly as he forced you to look at him. "Bullshit," he growled, looking down at you, his blue eyes darkened. "I can see it in your eyes. You haven't moved on to shit."
You stared up at him defiantly, your chest heaving with anger, which only intensified when you felt the wetness between your thighs. Even after all this time, all it took was a look and a simple touch to get you so wet, and as much as you hated it, you couldn't deny that something about his post-prison appearanceโ€”how rugged and large he wasโ€”made your knees week.
His hand tightened on your chin as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a brutal, demanding kiss. It was clear he was angry, punishing you for the words you'd spoken, and you knew you should've pushed him awayโ€”yelled at him and told him to get the fuck out of your houseโ€”but you didn't.
Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him with an intensity that matched the war going on within youโ€”the jumbled mess of love and hate that he had brought up within you.
He groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your face roughly as he devoured your mouth. He pushed you further back against the counter that was now digging into your lower back, his body pinning you in place. You could feel his anger, his frustration, his desperation, and it only fueled your own emotions.
The kiss was raw and charged with a passionate mix of need, longing, and pure, unbridled anger, both of you trying to show the other that this wasn't a surrender of power or giving into the other and accepting blame. The kiss itself was an argument, a fight all of its own that didn't require words.
He hands went to your hips, lifting you onto the counter and stepping between your parted legs. Tearing his mouth from yours, he began kissing along your jawline and down the column of your throat. His lips were hot and insistent, his teeth nipping at your skin as he continued to mark you.
You panted, your chest heaving for an entirely different reason now as you let out soft gasps and breathy sounds of approval, your head falling back against the cabinet behind your head. You had forgotten how good he was with his mouth, always knowing exactly how to drive you wild.
He took advantage of the exposed column of your throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the counter. You let out a low moan, your nails raking against his buzzed scalp. As sexy as he looked with a buzzcut, you wished you could run your fingers through his hair, tugging on it slightly everytime he touched you just right.
"Mmm," he hummed against your skin, his voice a low vibration that seemed to go straight to your core. He kissed his way back up to your mouth, his hips pushing forward to press his hardness against your core. "Did you forget how good I am, baby?"
You internally rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, like he had won. "God, do you ever shut up?" You asked, sounding less annoyed and effective since you were still breathless from his kisses.
His hips thrust forward again, making an involuntary whine fall from your lips at the feeling. "Not when I'm right." He smirked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His smirk was as frustratingly handsome as it had always been, and it made you want to smack him and kiss him all at once. "And I am."
"Don't be a dickhead," you glared at him, his arrogance and your own unyielding need for him only heightening your frustration. You were desperate and aching for him, but you refused to give in and beg him like you wanted to.
"Then quit acting like you're not soaking wet for me." His grip on your thighs tightened, calloused fingers digging into the soft flesh. "I bet if I slipped my hand into your shorts, I'd find you drenched and ready for me, wouldn't I?"
His smug tone infuriated you and turned you on all at once. "Shut up, Rafe," you demanded, balling your fist into the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer, so you could press your lips to his, forcing him to shut up and quit pissing you off.
Your grip on his shirt loosened, hand sliding down his hard, muscular chest to his waistband. You had always seen the trope of guys working out their frustrations in prison movies, but you didn't know that was actually a thing. Your fingers fumbled with his belt as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, sliding it along yours in a way that had you moaning against his lips
He groaned low in his throat as you finally worked the belt buckle open, sliding the leather through the loops and dropping it to the floor with a clank. His hands immediately slid up your thighs, hooking into the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down your legsโ€”with the help of you awkwardly shifting to lift your ass enough to do so.
He discarded the garments to the floor with his belt, his palms running along your bare thighs as he parted your legs wider, opening you to him. His calloused fingertips brushed against your center, feeling your slick folds, making you gasp into his mouth. "Told you," he grinned against your lips, finding it in himself to be a complete dick, even when he was about to be inside you.
"Asshole," you mumbled, fingers deftly popping open the button of his jeans and unzipping them. You hooked your fingers in his waistband, shoving his pants and underwear down as he had done to you.
He kicked his pants and boxers off the rest of the way, stepping between your thighs again. His hard cock was flushed, the tip glistening with precum. He gripped himself at the base, rubbing the head through your slick folds teasingly. "What was that, baby?"
Your breath caught in your throat. "Just put your dick inside me before I kill you," you threatened him, though you both knew you wouldn't do anything, not really.
He chuckled lowly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "You want it so bad, don't you?" He teased, his tip nudging against your entrance but not pushing inside. "Beg for it, baby. Let me hear how much you need my cock." He didn't need to be angry when he could punish you like this. He knew begging was the last thing you wanted to do, but he also knew that you'd do it.
"Don't piss me off right now, Rafe," you gritted your teeth, the feeling of him against your entrance making you dizzy with desire.
"Or what, baby? You'll what?" He pressed against you again, the tip of his cock pushing inside just slightly before pulling back out. "Tell me what you'll do if I don't give you what you want." He was pushing your buttons, knowing exactly how to make you snap.
You practically whimpered at the feeling of him pulling out. "Fuck- fine, please, Rafe," you panted, furious with yourself and him that you were giving into him. "Please just fuck me already."
The confident, victorious smirk that instantly appeared on his face had you wanting to slap him. "Now was that so hard?" He condescend. Your annoyed retort died in your throat as he finally pushed into you, making you moan, your head falling back against the cupboard at the feeling of him inside you after so long.
He groaned as your tight heat enveloped him, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to bruise as he started to move. His body tensed, using every ounce of his self control not to cum on the spot. Four years of fucking himself in his hand was nothing compared to the way you were squeezing him right now.
One hand moved up to your mouth, muffling your growing moans and whines. "Shh," he cooed. You were thankful for it. You knew you had to be quiet, but the way he was pounding into you made it nearly impossible.
"Did you miss me, baby?" He leaned down, breathing hotly against your neck as he nipped at your throat. "Did you lay awake at night thinking about me stretching you like this?" He flexed his hips, driving deep inside you.
You nodded, letting out a muffled "mhm" against his palm as your back arched into him. He felt so good, better than you'd remembered, and you hadn't had sex in four years, so you were so worked up.
"Good," he purred, his teeth scraping against your skin as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. "Because I missed you too, baby. Missed this tight little cunt wrapped around my dick." The hand on your thigh dipped down between your legs, his calloused thumb rubbing circles on your clit.
You gasped against his palm, your eyes rolling back at the mix of sensations. You were already so pathetically close, feeling that familiar aching deep within you.
He could feel your weepy cunt starting to flutter around him, and he was more than glad that you were so close so quickly because he didn't know how much longer he could hold back. "Gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy, baby. Gonna get you pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna miss a damn thing"
His words turned you on more than they should have, snapping that coil inside you and sending you over the edge. You tensed around his dick, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you cried out his name.
"Shit, baby," he groaned, burying his face into your neck, his facial hair tickling your skin as he pushed himself deep inside you, painting your insides white with his release. His breath was hot against your already heated skin, a thin layer of sweat coating both your bodies as he slowly softened inside you.
Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath, his hand falling from your mouth to brace himself on the counter. You couldn't believe that after all these years of promising yourself you wouldn't let him back into your life, you had so easily opened your legs and even let him cum inside youโ€”because clearly that worked out so well for you last time.
He stayed buried inside you for a moment, enjoying the warmth and the feeling of finally being home where he belonged. He eventually pulled out, his softening dick slipping from your tender cunt.
You had to tell him that he couldn't stay, that it would confuse Rhiannon to wake up to a strange man in the house, but you didn't know how, not after what just happened.
He stepped back, allowing you to get down from the counter. A silence fell over both of you as you got dressed, neither one knowing what happens now. He finished buttoning up his jeans, his eyes flicking up to you as he ran a hand over his buzzed head. "So... what now?" He asked gruffly, breaking the silence.
"You can't- you have to go," you told him, pulling your shorts back up and crossing your arms. It seemed unfair to say such a thing after sharing such an intimate moment, but you needed to think of your daughter. She didn't even know who Rafe was.
"You're kicking me out?" He echoed, as if he couldn't believe it. "After... that?" He gestured vaguely, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
You pinched the bridge of your nose, both of you finding yourselves right back where you started. "You cant just... be here. Rhiannon doesn't even know who you are." The words seemed cruel as soon as they left your lips, but they were true. You wished they weren't, but they were.
"I know. Fuck, I know that. Don't you think I know that?" He was frustrated, your words like a slap to the face. "But goddamn it, I want to know her. I want to be a part of her life."
"I'm not saying you can't be, but... she's four, Rafe. She's old enough that you can't just walk in and call yourself her father," you told him firmly. "It's going to take time. I don't want to overwhelm her."
"Time?" He asked incredulously. Deep down, he knew you were right, that you were doing what was best, but he was so angry at himself, and instead of facing that anger and acknowledging that this was his own doing, he was taking it out on you. "I've already missed four fucking years. First steps, first words, first everythings."
"I can't keep going in circles with you, Rafe," you ran your hand through your hair, utterly exhausted. "You do this my way, or you don't do this at all." It hurt you to be so cold. You wanted Rhiannon to know her father, but she was just a kid. She wouldn't understand why her dad just showed up out of the blue, and you didn't know how to explain it to her.
He stared at you, his face unreadable. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. Then, he spoke, his voice low. "Alright. Fine. Your way. But you better not shut me out again. I'm not gonna miss anymore. Understand?"
You nodded, thankful that he was going to stop fighting you on this. "Do you have a-a number or something?" You asked, unsure how long he'd been out, if he got his phone back and was able to pay the bill or if he bought a burner. You didn't even know where he was staying.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. "It's the same as my old one," he said gruffly, clearly annoyed by your previous ultimatum.
"Right, okay," you nodded, your fingers drumming against your upper arm. You two stood in silence for a long moment. Rafe didn't want to leave, and you didn't want to tell him to.
Rafe's gaze fell to the floor, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. "Can I see her before I go?" He asked softly. "Just... just to see her."
There was a shift in his demeanor, a vulnerability about him that told you he really did care about Rhiannon, even if he'd never met her. "Yeah," you found yourself nodding, turning to lead him to her room. As you entered the living room, you could've sworn Moonshine was giving a disapproving side eye. "Don't judge me," you mumbled.
He followed you down the hallway, his heavy boots thudding on the floor. He paused in the doorway of Rhiannon's room, looking in on her sleeping form. She was curled up on her side in a princess toddler bed, her little arms wrapped around a stuffed cat. Rafe's expression softened as he took her in.
His eyes swept over the room, the nightlight plugged into the wall illuminating the space. The walls were painted a light shade of pink, toys strewn about. A small bookshelf sat tucked in the corner, various children's books inside, some sitting on the floor in front of it.
He stepped into the room, moving closer to the bed. He crouched down, his eyes fixed on Rhiannon's sleeping face as he reached out, his large hand gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "She's so little," he murmured softly, almost reverently.
You leaned on the doorway, a small, sad smile pulling at your lips as you watched the exchange. You found yourself wondering what life would have been like if Rafe never got locked up, your heart aching as you thought about sharing all of Rhiannon's firsts with someone, bickering over whether she would've said mommy or daddy first. The wobbly first steps, the soothing and band-aid applications after she scraped her knees. What would it have been like to share those moments with him?
Rafe's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She's beautiful." He turned his head to look at you, and you saw the sheen of moisture in his eyes. He blinked it away quickly, clearing his throat as he stood, masking his emotions as he always had. "I should go."
You hesitated, for a moment wanting to throw everything you'd said out the window and tell him to stay, but you knew you couldn't. You just nodded, letting him push past you. You didn't move from your spot, even after you heard the front door open and shut. You simply closed your eyes, leaning your head against the doorframe as a few tears rolled down your cheeks.
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callumsluvr ยท 2 days ago
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dad!rafe is back๐Ÿคญ this is just a snippet of a little series i want to start of mom!reader x dad!rafe before the babies, but iโ€™ll still write about the girlies and teddy in between!
missed you all and i hope you enjoy ๐Ÿฉท
Rafe had always been in your orbit.
Your parents met through the country club, when Ward and Katherine, Rafe's parents, first joined after Ward's development company took off. They were the first to introduce themselves to his parents, and they had always been the nicest to them. Inviting them to events, holidays, and get togethers, even if the rest of the Kooks didn't take to them very kindly.
Rafe was born first, and you only a year after. To say that it was an arranged marriage might not be that outrageous. But, you'd never known life without Rafe, and you liked it that way. Matching outfits for every holiday. Coordinating Halloween costumes. Attending the same camps. If Rafe went, you went. If you went, Rafe went. Which is how he endured, in his opinion, too many tennis camps, and how you endured, in his opinion, too little golf lessons, considering you were still terrible at it and much preferred talking to every other kid during the lesson, rather than actually hit the golf ball.
When you decided that you were a vegetarian after a science lesson about chickens, guess who stopped eating meat? Rafe.
When he decided that his name was Rafe, like the guy from Pearl Harbor and absolutely not Rafferty, as his parents wished, what did you call him? Rafferty, obviously, because god forbid he tries to be too cool for you.
Did he ever think that he'd become your husband? Surprisingly, not really. He always thought that you'd move away and do much bigger things than he did. But becoming your husband and the father to four children? Never.
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rafecameronssl4t ยท 1 year ago
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Golf day || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: INSPIRED BY THIS TIKTOK
Warnings: pure fluff hehehehe
Word count: 497
A/n: if anyone has any tiktoks that they want me to turn into a Rafe fic, send them thru pls!!!! I love finding random vids on my fyp that are so Rafe coded. ALSO BEGGING FOR MORE DAD!RAFE REQUESTSS
MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)
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divider by @h-aewo
โ€œDo you think sheโ€™ll enjoy it?โ€ Rafe questions, turning his head to you, his eyes lingering on Mabel, comfortably nestled on your lap. He looks genuinely concerned, his brow furrowed with worry.
โ€œYou know she loves watching you do anything,โ€ you reply with a reassuring chuckle, trying to soothe his anxiety. As you adjust the tiny hat on your daughterโ€™s head, you canโ€™t help but smile at her innocent excitement.
It was Mabelโ€™s first time at the golf course, and Rafe had been on edge all morning. Heโ€™d peppered you with questions like, โ€œDonโ€™t you think it will be too hot?โ€ and โ€œWhat if she gets bored?โ€ His nervousness was palpable, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor.
You had spent the morning reassuring him, reminding him repeatedly that Mabel would be perfectly fine. You knew she would be thrilled just to watch her dad play golf, her eyes following his every move with awe and admiration.
โ€œDo you think sheโ€™ll like this spot?โ€ Rafe asks as the golf cart comes to a gentle stop under the shade of a large oak tree. โ€œBabe, youโ€™re the one playing,โ€ you giggle, enjoying his overprotectiveness. Rafe laughs softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. โ€œMabel, do you like it here?โ€ he asks, his voice tender as he tickles her chin. Mabel responds with a delightful giggle that melts your heart.
You adjust Mabel on your lap so sheโ€™s facing Rafe, her wide, curious eyes tracking his every move as he unloads his golf clubs. The sun casts a warm glow over the course, and you canโ€™t help but admire how handsome Rafe looks in his golf gear. โ€œDoesnโ€™t Daddy look so handsome, Bels?โ€ you murmur to Mabel, pressing light kisses on her rosy cheeks. She giggles uncontrollably and tickling sensation.
Rafe turns at the sound of her infectious giggles, a broad smile lighting up his face. โ€œYou girls doing alright?โ€ he calls out, his eyes sparkling with joy. You chuckle, giving him a thumbs-up and lifting Mabelโ€™s tiny hand to wave at him.
Remembering that Rose wanted a video of Mabelโ€™s first time at the golf course, you quickly pull out your phone and aim the camera at Mabelโ€™s expressive face. Sheโ€™s watching Rafe intently, her anticipation palpable.
As Rafe lines up his shot, you can see the concentration etched on his face. The moment the club makes contact with the golf ball, sending it soaring through the air, Mabel flinches in surprise. You canโ€™t help but laugh, immediately clamping your hand over your mouth, feeling a bit guilty for laughing at her reaction.
Rafe shields his eyes with his hand, squinting into the distance to see where the ball landed. Satisfied with his shot, he turns back and walks towards you and Mabel, a broad smile lighting up his face. โ€œDaddyโ€™s pretty good, isnโ€™t he?โ€ Rafe chuckles as he reaches you, gently lifting Mabel from under her armpits and pressing a loving kiss on her round cheek.
You quickly snap a photo of the sweet moment. Their joy is infectious, and you canโ€™t help but chuckle as you send the video and picture to Rose. Mabelโ€™s earlier reaction to the sound of Rafe hitting the ball plays in your mind, making you smile.
Rafe notices your amusement. โ€œWhatโ€™s so funny?โ€ he asks, his curiosity piqued as he sees you smiling at your phone. You glance up, grinning, and show him the video of Mabelโ€™s startled reaction to his golf swing.
โ€œAww, Iโ€™m sorry, babygirl,โ€ Rafe says with a laugh, his eyes softening as he watches the video. โ€œIโ€™ll let you know when Iโ€™m going to hit the ball next time.โ€ Mabel, already captivated by her dadโ€™s presence, giggles and reaches out to touch his face, her earlier surprise forgotten.
Rafeโ€™s heart melts as he cradles Mabel in his arms, swaying gently. โ€œYouโ€™re my good luck charm, you know that?โ€ he murmurs, his voice filled with love. Mabel coos in response, her tiny hands grasping at Rafeโ€™s shirt.
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rafesteddy ยท 2 months ago
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Can we get dilf!rafe and milf!reader? Max lets it slip to rafe that his buddies ogle and find milf!reader so hot when they saw her pick up Max and Winnie from school a few times? You can choose how it goes afterwards!! I love your writing of their fam saurrrrr much
awe thank you bb ๐Ÿ’• I'm so glad you like it ๐Ÿคญ๐Ÿคญ๐Ÿคญ sorry this one got a little longโ€”but I hope you enjoy ๐Ÿ˜‹๐Ÿ’• This story is meant to be read either alone or with the rest of the au.
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+18 -> smut
๐“ญ๐“ฒ๐“ต๐“ฏ!๐“ป๐“ช๐“ฏ๐“ฎ ๐“ฌ๐“ช๐“ถ๐“ฎ๐“ป๐“ธ๐“ท ๐” ๐“ถ๐“ฒ๐“ต๐“ฏ!๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ญ๐“ฎ๐“ป
c/w: teenage boys being gross, jealous rafe, swearing, ownership kink, possessive rafe, pet names, multiple orgasms, overstim., squirting, fingering, unprotected p in v, mirror sex, dirty talk, spanking, lots of cum, female oral (post-shared climax)
cameron kids= Max (18), Winnie (17), Rory + Poppy (4)
You lean into the counter, absentmindedly squeezing lemon after lemon into the glass pitcher. Cold juices run down your fingers, sticky as it slips into the creases of your palms and drips to your wrists. The whole kitchen smells like sugar and citrus, with that warm, buttery hint of cookies still cooling behind you.
The plateโ€™s already half gone, devoured by teenage boys lounging in the common space: tall, tan, loud, sprawled across your furniture like they own the place.
โ€œSugar, please?โ€ You ask, gesturing toward Kelceโ€™s son, perched in front of the one cabinet you need.
โ€œYes, maโ€™am,โ€ he hums, flashing you a grin as he hops down to grab it.
His hand brushes yours as he passes it off. You smile, polite and sweet as ever, returning to stir the mix.
โ€œFuck, she wants me,โ€ he mutters to Maxโ€”just out of earshot.
Your son groans, tipping his head back against the cabinet. โ€œFuck off, Tripp.โ€
โ€œWhy else would she be in here squeezinโ€™ her lemons?โ€ Tripp groans, dragging the sentence out like itโ€™s a double entendre.
โ€œYouโ€™re still goinโ€™, huh? Not scared?โ€
โ€œMโ€™not scared of shitโ€”โ€
Before Max can answer, the door opens with a thud.
โ€œHi, Mom!โ€ Winnie calls, sandals slapping the marble as she breezes in. Her boyfriend Jacksonโ€™s behind her, arms full, carrying the twins, still damp from the sprinkler, dressed like theyโ€™re headed out.
โ€œIs it cool if we take the twins out for ice cream?โ€ Winnie asks. Her toneโ€™s breezy, but she looks sharply toward one of Maxโ€™s friends eyeing her up.
That same boy yelps when Max nails him in the arm. โ€œMโ€™gonna fuckinโ€™ kill you,โ€ he mutters, while the kid doubles down, clearly unbothered, shooting his shot at your daughter like itโ€™s all just part of the game.
โ€œOf course, sweetheart,โ€ you say, crossing the counter for your purse.
โ€œMrs. Cameron, reallyโ€”Iโ€™ve got it,โ€ Jackson says, voice firm.
โ€œThatโ€™s very sweet. But not necessaryโ€ฆ Thanks for taking them off my hands.โ€ You kneel in front of the twins gently brushing back your daughterโ€™s curls; cupping your sonโ€™s cheek lovingly. โ€œYou two be good for your sister and Jackson, okay?โ€
You lean in to kiss their cheeks, and without realizing it, your sundress shifts. The neckline dips, your breasts press softly together, the hem lifts just enough to tease. You linger, whispering something about sprinkles and chocolate.
Behind you, the room goes silent.
One boy swallows hard. Another just staresโ€”slack-jawedโ€”like heโ€™s forgotten how to breathe.
โ€œMaxโ€ฆ Dude. This is your life?โ€
โ€œDidnโ€™t I tell you to shut the fuck up?โ€ Max mutters, jaw clenched.
โ€œIโ€™d move in tomorrow,โ€ Tripp grins. โ€œBe your stepdad today.โ€
โ€œBet she tastes like sugarโ€”โ€
โ€œI said shut up,โ€ Max snaps, louder this time.
Just then, another boy walks in from the hallway, Trevor. He catches sight of you, still bent low in front of the twins, and freezes. Smiling like the goddamn Cheshire Cat, he lifts both hands like heโ€™s gripping your hips and starts thrusting the air behind you in slow-motion silence.
The other boys lose itโ€”coughing, choking on laughter, trying and failing to keep it together.
You straighten up, sundress swaying back into place as you smooth it down with both hands, blissfully unaware.
โ€œAll right, go have fun,โ€ you sing out, waving them toward the door.
You turn back to the pitcher, lift it to the sink, and flip the tap without thinking.
Water churnsโ€”lemon juice and sugar swirling, rising to the rimโ€”as your gaze drifts out the kitchen window. And then you see him. Rafeโ€ฆ
His white t-shirtโ€™s soaked through, hose in hand as he rinses down the G-Wagon. Sunlight turns the spray to glitter. Water drips down his arms, soaking the cotton clinging to every curve and cut of his chest and abs.
He turns, flipping his hat backward with one hand, jaw flexing as he wipes his brow.
Your thighs press together. Grip tightening on the pitcher just as the lemonade spills over, cold and sticky down your wrist. You fumble the tap, blinking fast, but your eyes donโ€™t leave him.
His shirt clings to his back, practically painted on, while his blue swim trunks ride low on his hips and high on his thighs.
One hand coils the hose, and the other grabs the wash bucket. His chest flexes with every move, muscles rolling under wet cotton like sin in motion.
โ€œHave fun, boys,โ€ you call out, pouring lemonade into a glass, still watching him.
The front door clicks shut as you step outside barefoot. The grass is crisp beneath your feet; sun shining hot on your shoulders.
Rafe looks up the second he hears you. His mouth curves into a slow, knowing smile. โ€œOh shit, pretty,โ€ he drawls, eyes dragging down your body. โ€œThat for me?โ€
โ€œMhmm,โ€ you hum, offering him the glassโ€”but he doesnโ€™t take it. He steps closer, warm, wet arm curling around your waist, pulling you flush to him like he canโ€™t help it. His mouth finds yours instantlyโ€”hot and slow. Your fingers hook behind his neck, greedy for more.
You giggle into the kiss, breathless. โ€œHow much longer?โ€
Rafe pulls back just enough to smirk, water dripping down his temple โ€œWhat? You want somethinโ€™, baby?โ€
แฐ.แŸเชœโ€โžด 15 minutes earlierโ€ฆ
The garage is quiet at firstโ€”just the clatter of golf clubs and the squeak of a sponge as Rafe scrubs the green off his chipping wedge. The radio hums softly from the corner, low and easy. But that peace doesnโ€™t last.
Beer bottles clink inside the fridge; ice rattles in the machine. And just around the corner from where Rafe sits, the boys start talking their shit like they donโ€™t have a care in the world.
โ€œIโ€™m done,โ€ your son muttersโ€”tone flat and fed up like heโ€™s been saying all day.
โ€œNot my fault your momโ€™s hot as fuck, Maxi.โ€ One of the boys fires back, voice deep and smug. โ€œMโ€™just waitinโ€™ for the day she gets stuck in the washer. Iโ€™ll pound her shit right thereโ€”โ€
โ€œFuck you,โ€ Max hisses. Thereโ€™s a sharp thud and a groan; Max hits his friend hard enough to give him a moment's peace from him, but it doesnโ€™t stop the rest of them.
โ€œDid you see her in that swimsuit the other day? Playing with the twins? That bikini? Sheโ€™s still got an ass on her. Those tits too?โ€ Trevor chimes in, practically drooling. โ€œI wanna play with her twins. Slide my dick right between โ€˜emโ€”โ€
โ€œIโ€™ll fuckinโ€™ kill you,โ€ Max growls.
โ€œHey, you fucked my sister, Max. Both of โ€˜em. Think I get to tug one to your momโ€ฆ every nightโ€”โ€
โ€œSheโ€™s so hot, bro. Like stupid hot,โ€ another pipes up. โ€œYour dad doesnโ€™t deserve that. He canโ€™t keep up. Canโ€™t handle all that. His staminaโ€™s gotta be shot.โ€
โ€œShe made me cookies like it was foreplay,โ€ one of them says, breathy and laughing. โ€œYou think she ever looks at us and wondersโ€ฆโ€
โ€œShe made cookies for my dad,โ€ Max mutters.
โ€œYeah. Thatโ€™s what I saidโ€”โ€
And then Rafe clears his throat, loud and measured. The sound slices through the room like a blade. So quiet you could hear the soft clink of a stolen beer cap hitting the concrete.
The boys scatter like mice out the side door and back into the house. Their smug laughter from moments before dies on their lips, replaced by frantic whispers of โ€œdo you think he heardโ€ and the squeak of boat shoes skidding across the floor.
โ€œCome here,โ€ Rafe says, low and calm.
Max exhales hard, stuffing his hands in his front pockets. His shoulders drawn up to his ears as he drags himself across the garage floor.
โ€œYou wanna explain what that was?โ€ Rafe asks without looking at him, voice steady as he cleans his club.
Max shrugs, sullen. โ€œI mean, you heard it.โ€
โ€œYeahโ€ฆ I heard everythingโ€”โ€
โ€œEvery fuckinโ€™ day,โ€ Max mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. โ€œAnytime weโ€™re at the house. I try shutting it downโ€”itโ€™s impossible.โ€
โ€œThey were talking about your mother,โ€ Rafe says. โ€œYou just gonna let that fly?โ€
โ€œTheyโ€™re fuckinโ€™ idiots,โ€ Max scoffs. โ€œJust givinโ€™ me shit. Theyโ€™re not gonna do anything. And what am I supposed to do, huh? Beat the shit out of every guy who opens his mouth about mom?โ€
โ€œNah,โ€ Rafe says, smiling without humor. โ€œTheyโ€™ll get the hint some way or another.โ€
โ€œWell thatโ€™s not horrifying,โ€ Max mumbles, giving him a side-eyeโ€”because he knows damn well Rafe might handle this himself.
โ€œSheโ€™s not just your mom, you know. Sheโ€™s my wife,โ€ Rafe says, nodding toward the garage door. โ€œSo yeah. I know exactly how hot she is.โ€
โ€œEw.โ€
โ€œOh, fuck off,โ€ Rafe grins. โ€œI just had to listen to that perverted pissinโ€™ contest over your mother. And Trevorโ€™s sister? Really?โ€
โ€œโ€ฆSisters,โ€ Max murmurs, not meeting Rafeโ€™s eye.
He cringes, face twisting in the exact same way his sonโ€™s had moments earlier. โ€œArenโ€™t you dating Topโ€™s daughter?โ€
โ€œTheyโ€™re Trevorโ€™s sisters,โ€ Max repeats. โ€œDoesnโ€™t count.โ€
Rafe stares at him. โ€œAnd whatโ€™s the math on that? It doesnโ€™t count? You serious?โ€
Max shrugs, then deflects. โ€œHeyโ€”remember who the enemy is here, alright? He was talkinโ€™ about Mom.โ€
That earns a dry laugh. Rafe crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall, still giving Max a look like this conversationโ€™s not over.
โ€œI like that excuse better,โ€ he breathes. โ€œYโ€™all headinโ€™ out?โ€
โ€œMhmm,โ€ Max hums, already inching toward the door like heโ€™s trying to disappear. โ€œJust gonna grab some snacks.โ€
โ€œYacht Club?โ€
โ€œMhmm,โ€ he confirms, eyes on the exit.
โ€œBe safe,โ€ Rafe says, a little quieter now.
Max mumbles something back as he pushes into the house, and the door shuts behind him with a soft thud.
Rafe doesnโ€™t move. He just stands there for a second, staring at nothing, letting the quiet settle. He knows what he feels. Always has. He just doesnโ€™t always want to name it.
He used to love the attention. The looks. The envy. Part of him still does. When you were younger, his friends couldnโ€™t keep their eyes off you. Couldnโ€™t help the comments, the sideways glances. And he loved itโ€”loved knowing that no matter how many mouths whispered your name, it was his bed you came home to.
You were his. All his. Always. But this? This was different. Hearing that kind of shit from teenagersโ€”his sonโ€™s idiot friends, their mouths full of his food, beers stolen from his fridge, spending long, lazy days on his boatโ€”no. It didnโ€™t feel flattering. It felt like a fucking insult.
The way they talked about you was like you were some option. Like if given half a chance, theyโ€™d step right into his role. As if they could touch you. As if they could handle a woman like you. His wife. It pissed him off. And he knew it shouldnโ€™tโ€”not like this.
It wasnโ€™t new. It wasnโ€™t shocking. But today? It got under his skin in a different way. Raw and hot and fucking personal.
He let out a sharp breath, dragging a hand through his hair. This is what happens when your wife is you. People want you. They always have.
He laughs under his breathโ€”half at himself, half at the absurdity of it allโ€”and reaches for the sponge and bucket again. He wasnโ€™t gonna fight them. He didnโ€™t need to. There were better ways to remind them where they stood.
They wanted to act grown? Act like they could love you, care for you, fuck you like a man? Fine. Let them watch. Let them see what a real man does.
Rafe lets the door swing shut behind him and strolls across the drive, relaxed, deliberate. His gaze lifts straight to the window above the sinkโ€”and there you are, stepping into frame like you were waiting for your cue.
Rafe squeezes the hose handle, blasting water against the side of the G-Wagon. He shifts a little closer, just enough to let the spray bounce back misting his skin, ricocheting off the glossy paint.
The sun is hot, but the water is cool against his skin. The soaked fabric clings to the muscles of his chest and abs. He tugs his shorts a little higher on his thighs, watching the droplets slide down his body.
Then he smiles againโ€”cocky and quietโ€”as he pulls the oldest trick in the book: flipping his cap from front to back like heโ€™s not thinking about it at all.
Next, his shirt. He peels it off slowly and casually and tosses it aside, revealing his tan, chiseled frame. The gold chain with your initial catches the light.
โ€œFiveโ€ฆ fourโ€ฆ threeโ€ฆโ€ Bang. The door claps shut. He chuckles to himself, smug, reading you like a favorite book. He doesnโ€™t even have to look to know itโ€™s you. But he does.
Rafe glances over his shoulder as he hears your bare feet brushing through the grass; sundress swaying in the summer breeze. And then he sees you, glass of lemonade in hand, eyes already locked on him like heโ€™s the only thing youโ€™ve ever wanted.
โ€œLook at you,โ€ he mutters, watching you float closer. You took the bait. You always do. And he lives for it.
He spots movement through the glass, Maxโ€™s friends still inside, lingering, pretending not to watch.
Rafe praises you as he always does, a breathy โ€œmhmmโ€ buzzing past your lips is the only thing passing before heโ€™s kissing you deep, hot, and possessiveโ€”right there in the driveway, letting them see. Letting them know who you belong to. How good you fit in his arms. How easily he could take you wherever and whenever he wanted.
He pulls back just enough to breathe you in; Rafe brushing his lips across yours like he canโ€™t stop touching you. His big hand drifts lower, sliding over the slight curve of your back before grabbing a handful of assโ€”firm, slow, and so intentional it makes your breath catch.
Heat rushes to your cheeks. You laugh quietly, barely holding it in. His shirtโ€™s been tossed somewhere behind him, skin warm and bare against yours, that heavy gold chain glinting faintly against his chest.
The teenage boys barrel out of the house, faster than usual. Lugging the cooler through the grass as they look anywhere but at you.
โ€œWhere are you headed?โ€ Rafe calls out, still holding your waist.
โ€œTold youโ€”yacht club,โ€ Max grits, like a chore.
โ€œYacht club, huh?โ€ Rafe echoes. โ€œSounds real productive. Why donโ€™t yโ€™all finish cleaninโ€™ the car before you go burninโ€™ my gas?โ€
โ€œDad, seriously?โ€ Max groans, letting the cooler drop to the grass with a thud.
โ€œYouโ€™re about to torch another five hundred dollars of fuel,โ€ Rafe says, grinning as he jams the sponge into one of the boysโ€™ chests hard. โ€œDonโ€™t even get me started on yesterday. Three-fifty in food, six bottles of cheap-ass liquorโ€”none of which Iโ€™d let past my lips or hersโ€ฆ Itโ€™s the least you can do.โ€
โ€œPretty sure that was all Winnieโ€”โ€
โ€œSpare me the bullshit,โ€ Rafe drawls, his Southern accent soaked in judgment, cutting like his smirk.
โ€œSince when are you washinโ€™ cars anyway?โ€ Max mutters, dunking a sponge into the soapy bucket. You try not to giggle but you canโ€™t help it. Rafeโ€™s flair for the dramatics is so visible in Max itโ€™s like looking in a mirror.
Rafe laughs as well, already turning back to you. He reaches up, wiping a drop of water from your cheek with his thumb, pressing a kiss to your lipsโ€”gentler this time, like heโ€™s taking back the moment before their arrival.
โ€œNow what did you need, baby?โ€ Rafe murmurs as the boys start scrubbing the truck. You glance up at him, feeling nothing but butterflies. Rafe bites his lip slightly, head tilted slightly, making your brain short-circuit. โ€œName it, princess,โ€ he mumbles, thumb tracing slow, possessive circles on the small of your back.
โ€œYou.โ€
That one word has him grinning, dark and knowing. โ€œYou want me, huh?โ€ He mutters, voice dropping an octave. โ€œAlright. Do somethinโ€™ for me.โ€
โ€œAnythingโ€ฆโ€
โ€œGo on back inside. Head to the guest room. Get on the bed, just like this. Donโ€™t take a single thing off,โ€ he adds. โ€œI wanna take it off you. You think you can do that for me?โ€
โ€œYeahโ€ฆ yeah, baby,โ€ you murmur, lifting up just enough to press your mouth to his.
He leans in, lips lingering like heโ€™s already counting down the seconds. โ€œBeautiful,โ€ he mutters, voice low, that crooked grin spreading as his hand lands on your ass with a lazy smack. โ€œIโ€™ll be right behind youโ€” โ€
โ€œLove you, Max! Have fun, boys. Be safe,โ€ you call out, voice bright and sweet as you disappear toward the house.
The driveway shifts the second the door closes, all the sunshine snuffed out the second youโ€™re gone. The boys go silent, scrubbing like their lives depend on it.
Rafeโ€™s shadow stretches long across the driveway. He folds his arms over his broad chest as he surveys the group, his gaze unreadableโ€”far colder than anger.
โ€œYacht club, huh?โ€ He says, nodding toward the cooler. โ€œGonna load up the boat? Burn my gas, drink my liquor, make some memories? I hope yโ€™all have fun,โ€ Rafe adds, and if they didnโ€™t know any better, they might think he means it.
โ€œThanks, Mr. Camerโ€”โ€
โ€œMaybe youโ€™ll even get lucky,โ€ Rafe cuts in, clean and easy. โ€œPick up a few country club girls: pearls, spray tans; the kind who wonโ€™t notice your hands shakinโ€™ while you fumble with their bras.โ€
A nervous chuckle slips out, quickly catching Rafeโ€™s glare, his lips curling into a fake smile.
โ€œYouโ€™ve seen my wife, yeah?โ€ He asks casually. โ€œBeautiful. Fuckinโ€™ stunning actually. Prettiest thing Iโ€™ve ever laid eyes on.โ€
He looks back at the house giving the boys a moment to breathe before shifting his sights to them again.
โ€œIโ€™ve been working since I was eighteen. Built this house. That boat. Everything you boys use like itโ€™s yours.โ€ He leans in slightly, voice tightening. โ€œAnd even after all thatโ€”I donโ€™t deserve her.โ€
That hits. You can see it landโ€”all of them blinking like theyโ€™ve just been slapped across the face.
โ€œSo what makes you think you do?โ€
โ€œWe were just joking, Mr. Cameron. I swearโ€”โ€
โ€œThatโ€™s my wife,โ€ Rafe snaps. The words hit like thunder in their chests. โ€œMine. Always has been. Always will be. And I donโ€™t give a shit if you go home and jerk off thinkinโ€™ about herโ€”hell, that fantasyโ€™s older than any of you.โ€
His smile returns, slow and razor-sharp. โ€œBut if you say another wordโ€”if you breathe another comment about something youโ€™ll never fuckinโ€™ touchโ€ฆโ€
He steps forward, and they shrink; stepping toward Max is self-preservation. His eyes zero in on Trevor. The kid nods before Rafe says another word, like heโ€™s praying itโ€™s enough to stay alive. โ€œIโ€™ll make sure the only thing youโ€™re sliding into is a fuckinโ€™ ditch. We clear?โ€
โ€œYes, sir,โ€ Trevor stammers.
Rafe claps a hand on his back hard. The slap echoed through the grounds, making the boy stumble forward with a wheezing gasp.
Then, just like that, Rafe turns and walks away. Calm and steady, like it didnโ€™t happen. He passes Max on the way back to the house, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder.
โ€œLove you, kid.โ€
โ€œL-Love you too,โ€ Max mutters, the lot of them holding their breath until heโ€™s gone for good.
แฐ.แŸเชœโ€โžด
You shift on the bed the second he walks in, soft and shy, biting your lip as your eyes meet his. His gaze darkens instantly, heat rolling off him like a wave.
โ€œI know I changedโ€ฆโ€ You murmur, voice gentle as a pout tugs at your lips.
The robeโ€™s already falling off your shoulders. Just hanging there. Lace underneathโ€”barely visible, but thatโ€™s the point. One leg crossed, stockings tight on your thighs, garters showing just enough to make him stop breathing.
Rafeโ€™s tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip as his eyes roam over you like heโ€™s seeing you for the first time all over again.
Heโ€™s already hard, straining against the front of his swim trunks, jaw tight as his fists curl at his sidesโ€”like itโ€™s taking everything in him not to rip that robe off you.
โ€œBabyโ€ฆ Donโ€™t apologize. Not when you look that fuckinโ€™ good for me.โ€
Rafe steps closer, making your thighs part without thinking, giving him room, inviting him in. His hands slide up your legsโ€”rough palms dragging higherโ€”his thumbs hooking under the garter straps, snapping them against your skin.
โ€œYou bought this for me, didnโ€™t you? Knew Iโ€™d lose my mind over this. Fuck, you know me too wellโ€ฆโ€
Your pussy clenches at the raw need in his tone. You toy with the satin belt at your waist, slowly teasingly letting the knot fall loose. The robe slips open completely as you lean back, arching your back, tits round in the pretty lingerie.
โ€œFuck... You donโ€™t even realize what you do to me. The way you picked this out thinkinโ€™ of me? Wantinโ€™ me to see you like this?โ€
He kisses you, soft and slow, then starts to trail lowerโ€”his mouth brushing along your jaw, every touch unhurried, deliberate. His hand glides up your thigh and grips tight, spreading you open. His eyes are sharp, blue, and hungryโ€”fixed on yours.
โ€œRafeโ€ฆโ€ You whine, already feeling your thoughts blur.
โ€œIโ€™m gonna fuckinโ€™ ruin you for them,โ€ he groans, hardly holding himself together. โ€œMake sure they never look at you the same. Make sure they know itโ€™s me in your head when you close your eyes. You know what theyโ€™ll never have?โ€ He whispers, breath fanning across your lips.
โ€œThis. This soft little mouth. These legs wrapped around them. This sweet pussy drippinโ€™ for them.โ€ His voice drops even lower. โ€œAll mine.โ€
You blink up at him, a little crease forming between your brows like youโ€™re trying to figure him out
He lets out this low breath, almost a laugh, but not really. โ€œFuck, youโ€™re perfectโ€ฆ You donโ€™t even see anyone else, do you?โ€
โ€œWho, baby?โ€ You whisper.
He scoffs, low and humorless as he tugs down his trunks, tossing them to the floor. โ€œYou shouldโ€™ve heard what they were sayinโ€™ about you.โ€
โ€œRafeโ€ฆโ€ You blink. โ€œIs everything okay?โ€
Your words tip up into a gasp as he pushes you back suddenly, one knee sinking into the bed, his body climbing over yours. โ€œThose boys,โ€ he mumbles. โ€œThey want you.โ€
โ€œMaxโ€™s friends?โ€ You gasp as your face twists in disgust; eyes flicking toward the door.
Rafe grabs your cheeks, forcing your focus back to him. His fingers slip under the lace and he groansโ€”low and gutturalโ€”when he feels how wet you are.
โ€œAlready soaked,โ€ he mutters, almost to himself. โ€œYouโ€™ve been sittinโ€™ here all sweet and innocent, like nothinโ€™s goinโ€™ onโ€”when your pussyโ€™s this fuckinโ€™ desperate for me. Say you're mineโ€ฆ Who do you belong to?โ€
You whimper, breath hitching as he slips your panties to the side and drags two fingers through your slick slowly, savoring every second.
โ€œSay it,โ€ he demands, his forehead pressing to yours; hand working you open.
โ€œYou,โ€ you whisper. โ€œI belong to youโ€”โ€
โ€œThatโ€™s rightโ€ฆ Mine to spoil. Mine to love. Mine to fuck.โ€
You go to touch him, but he grabs your wrists before you get the chance. Forces them up over your head, holding you there. His body presses into yours and when his hand slides down your thigh, it pulls a shiver straight out of you. โ€œUh-uh, angel. Not yet.โ€
His fingers curl just right, pressing into that spot that makes your hips jolt off the sheets. He keeps it slow, steadyโ€”watching your face with quiet adoration. Heโ€™s memorized every flutter of your lashes, every soft gasp that slips from your swollen lips. He knows what it takesโ€ฆ what you crave. And he knows youโ€™re close.
โ€œYouโ€™re gonna come for me, pretty,โ€ he murmurs. โ€œJust like thisโ€”โ€
You nod rapidly, falling apart not a moment later. โ€œFuck, Rafe,โ€ you cry out, trembling as your pussy clenches around his fingers.
But he doesnโ€™t stop. He keeps working you through it, fucking you with his fingers until youโ€™re gasping into his mouth, thighs twitching, hips jerking away from the overstimulation. You reach for his wrist, gripping tight, trying to slow him downโ€”but he groans against your lips, loving how little it takes for him to unravel you.
He catches the lace of your panties and rips them clean off, the tear sharp and sudden. The sound snaps through the room, and your legs twitch from the jolt.
Rafe pulls you off the bed, guiding you right where he wants you, not wasting a moment. โ€œHands on the glass,โ€ he says, voice rough as he unhooks your bra with one practiced flick. His other hand clamps around your waist, steadying you.
You press your palms to the glass, cool beneath you. Your reflection stares back: hair a mess, lips wet, chest rising fastโ€”tits bare as you beg for more, fighting to keep your eyes open already as they flutter shut.
โ€œEyes on me,โ€ Rafe whispers roughly, his chest pressed to your back now; hips flush against your ass.
He pushes into you slowly, giving you every delicious inch, your greedy pussy pulling him in. โ€œShit, babyโ€ฆ Youโ€™re tight.โ€ Rafe grinds in deeper, hand splayed across your stomach as he holds you there, impaled on his thick cock. โ€œThis,โ€ he pants, dragging back and slamming in again. โ€œThis is my pussy. My house. My fuckinโ€™ wife.โ€
Rafe sets a brutal rhythm, hips snapping against your ass with each thrust. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, lewd and filthy. He spanks your ass, hard enough to make you jolt forward into the glass.
โ€œLet โ€˜em hear it,โ€ he growls. โ€œLet those little bastards outside hear what I do to you.โ€
Your body trembles with every ruthless thrust; the mirror rattles under your grip, the sharp slaps of skin echoing round the room.
โ€œGonna cum for me, baby?โ€ Rafe grits out, voice rough and hoarse.
โ€œIโ€™m gonna cum,โ€ you gasp, voice breaking as the knot in your belly coils tight, ready to snap.
โ€œYeah?โ€ He growls, dragging you closer, rough hands holding you right where he wants you. โ€œThen fuckinโ€™ give it to me.โ€
One arm binds around your waist while the other slips down, fingers working your clit in rough, relentless circles that make your legs shake. โ€œShow me what I do to you.โ€
Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as your body jerksโ€”cunt clamping down around him. You peel your eyes open, desperate to see him. And there he is in the mirror behind you: jaw tight, lip caught between his teeth as his hips slam into you again and again.
โ€œGood girl,โ€ he snarls, not letting up for a second. โ€œYou ainโ€™t done yet.โ€
Rafe yanks you upright, chest to back, one big hand wrapping gently around your throat, thumb stroking just under your jaw as he fucks you deep and hardโ€”so deep itโ€™s almost too much.
You break with a choked sob, another orgasm tearing through you so hard your vision blurs. You go limp in his arms, legs shaking, body spent. He doesnโ€™t let go. Just grunts out a rough โ€œFuck, baby,โ€ right against your neck as his hips pump forward. One last thrust and heโ€™s coming, cock throbbing inside you, breath hot on your skin.
You feel every pulse of it, thick and messy, spilling deep as he holds you there, buried and shaking, not ready to move.
Rafe nuzzles into your cheek, soft kisses dusting your jaw as your breath comes out in shattered little gasps. He listens to every sound. โ€œYou still with me, baby?โ€ He murmurs, peeking over your shoulder with a teasing smirk.
โ€œBarely,โ€ you whisper, still catching your breath as you slump into his chest.
He lets out a soft laugh, mouth skimming the edge of your lips. โ€œThat smile,โ€ he mutters, voice thick. โ€œPrettiest fuckinโ€™ thing Iโ€™ve ever seen.โ€
You let your eyes fall shut, head resting against him.
He slips out of you slow, gentle to the last second, then gathers you up without a word. Carries you back to the bed like you weigh nothing, sets you down easy, and smooths your hair from your face with the back of his hand. Just stands there for a beat, staring like he canโ€™t believe youโ€™re real.
โ€œRafeโ€ฆโ€ you breathe, voice soft and pathetic, so sweet it nearly breaks him. He smiles, crawling between your thighs. โ€œYou gonna tell me you canโ€™t take another?โ€ He whispers, hands sliding under your knees, pushing your thighs open wide. โ€œYes, you canโ€ฆ You always do.โ€
Rafe kisses the inside of one thigh, then the other, mouth warm against your sex. His stubble drags across your skin, rough enough to make your lip tremble.
Your hands shoot to his hair the second he dives between your thighs. His tongue works you over, lips locking around your clit as he sucks hard. You cry out, fingers gripping his hair, and he groans into you, the sound vibrating so deep it makes your legs shake.
Rafeโ€™s fingers slide inside without warning, drilling his cum back into you until your back bows and your eyes blur with tears.
You sob, thighs quivering as your heels dig into the mattress, your body barely able to take it anymore; your brain not able to think of a single coherent thought.
โ€œGive it to me. Let โ€˜em know who owns this fuckinโ€™ bed, aight. You and meโ€ฆ You. And. Me.โ€ A scream rips from your throat, so cock-drunk you cum without warning, soaking his hand, his face, the sheets beneath you, everything drenched in the proof of your pleasure.
โ€œGood fuckinโ€™ girl,โ€ Rafe sighs in relief, licking and kissing through the mess, savoring every drop. He slaps your pussy once, firm and wet, just to hear the sound of it. โ€œAtta baby. Thatโ€™s what I fuckinโ€™ neededโ€ฆ So damn good to me.โ€
He drags his mouth up your body. Every touch lingers, every breath shared. He settles over you, wrapping you up in him.
You reach for his face, thumb stroking along his slick jaw. He leans into your touch, his mouth just a breath from yours.
โ€œI love you,โ€ you murmur, voice barely there.
Rafeโ€™s leans in, resting his forehead against yours. A quiet smile breaks across his face.
โ€œI love you more, sweetheart,โ€ he says, low and steady. โ€œAlways have. Always will.โ€
แฐ.แŸเชœโ€โžด the next morning
โ€œI warned you,โ€ Max mutters.
Tripp doesnโ€™t replyโ€”just stares into the void like something sacred was taken from him last night. Trevorโ€™s slumped next to him, hoodie up, eyes hollow, chewing his thumbnail.
โ€œWarned us?โ€ Tripp breathes, voice shot. โ€œAbout the wet bed? The screaming? The headboard hitting the wall like a metronome set to โ€˜destroy pussyโ€™ all night long?โ€
Knock. Knock. Knock. Bauer adds, thumping his fist against the kitchen table. โ€œAll damn night.โ€
Max shrugs, calm as ever. โ€œI told you not to talk about my mom.โ€
โ€œโ€ฆShe was crying about it,โ€ Bauer mutters. โ€œCrying about dickโ€”โ€
โ€œEnough,โ€ Max snaps.
Tripp rubs both hands over his face. โ€œIโ€™ve got PTSD. Did you sleep?โ€
โ€œYou think I slept?โ€ Trevor huffs.
โ€œYou couldโ€™ve knocked,โ€ Max says casually, sipping his orange juice.
All heads turn to him fast. โ€œKnocked?โ€ They spat in unison.
Max shrugs again, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. โ€œCouldโ€™ve asked to crash in my room. I slept great.โ€
You walk in like itโ€™s any other morningโ€”light on your feet, humming under your breath, dressed in a tiny pajama set that has no business existing in a house full of teenage boys. Your tankโ€™s stretched snug across your chest, love bites just barely visible where your robe slips open at the collar.
You pull the cinnamon rolls out, set them on the counter, steam rising fast. Without thinking, you grab the icing, swipe some with your finger, and lick it clean. You smile, small and sleepy, still feeling kind of floaty from the night before.
And for the first time in god knows how long they sat there in silence.
โ€œFuck. Fuck. Fuck,โ€ Tripp whispers as heavy footsteps echo down the hall.
And thenโ€”Rafe.
No shirt, just his signature gold chain catching the light as it rested against his chest. His skin was tanned, muscles cut sharp, and those sweats hung low on his hips like heโ€™d just rolled out of bedโ€”or hadnโ€™t bothered to pull them up all the way.
โ€œMorninโ€™, baby,โ€ He murmurs, already reaching for your waist.
โ€œGood morning,โ€ you hum, letting him pull you into himโ€”cinnamon roll tray still in your handsโ€”as he kisses your skin; fingers curling around the handle of the fresh cup of coffee you poured him, steam rolling over the rim of the handmade Daddy mug from a Fatherโ€™s Day past.
โ€œFor me?โ€ He asks softly, like the entire house isnโ€™t holding its breath.
You giggle, warm and syrupy. โ€œMade your favorite.โ€
โ€œAlready had my favorite last night.โ€ Itโ€™s a whisper meant just for you, but every boy hears it.
Rafe grabs a roll, swipes his thumb through the icing, and licks it clean like heโ€™s still tasting you. He sips his coffee slowly, his focus unwavering.
โ€œBreakfast on the porch, baby?โ€
โ€œYeah,โ€ you smile like he asked you on a date.
Then finally, with one last glance at his house, his wife, and the group of broken boys who will never forget last night, he mumbles, smug as everโ€ฆ
โ€œYaโ€™ll have a great day. โ€
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shrimpybbq ยท 10 months ago
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rafe experiences the comfort of a mother
synopsis: rafe appears on his girlfriendโ€™s doorstop, badly burnt and in need of care and affection
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Rafe stood in front of the guest room, body stiff and hand frozen against the wooden door. He wanted to knock, he really did, and yet he was hesitant. Only the day before had the couple fought, screaming and shouting until both were out of breath. Rafe had watched his sweet girl leave with teary eyes and heโ€™d felt bad, his heart twisting as she had slammed the door in his face. It was the same door he finally knocked on after realising heโ€™d been motionless for too long. The rap of his knuckles echoed and for a moment, he wondered if she wouldnโ€™t answer the door at all, until a creak sounded. Rafe raised his gaze to see his girlfriend standing in front of him, her fists rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.
โ€œR-rafe? What are yo-โ€, she began to ask, voice heavy with tiredness, the hour late. It wasnโ€™t until she looked at him properly that she paused, taking in his entire state. Rafe was standing there, clutching his arm to his chest protectively. It wasnโ€™t the childlike pose that caught her eye though, no - it was the way Rafeโ€™s eyes were filled with unshed tears and his bottom lip wobbling ever so subtly.
โ€œAre you ok?โ€ She asked gently, as if she were talking to their son. Rafe could only shake his head side to side, slowly pulling his arm away. At the sight of the red and blistering flesh, she gasped loudly, โ€œOh my god! What happened?โ€.
โ€œI-uh, I got into some trouble,โ€ Rafe responded timidly, full of shame and in pain.
โ€œCome here,โ€ his girlfriend said, gently ushering him into the guest room, โ€œsit down. Have you cleaned this?โ€ She asked. Again he shook his head, leading her to hum lowly. โ€œOk, Iโ€™ll need to clean it. Gimme a sec.โ€
Rafe sat on the bed patiently as he took in the room. Heโ€™d never been in there since she began sleeping in there, now taking in all the little trinkets she had lying around. He had been trying to get her to move back into his room but she still refused, and the pair used the nursery as a mutual zone.
His musings were cut off by a gentle voice questioning him.
โ€œWhat happened Rafe?โ€
โ€œItโ€™s nothing, just an accident, you know?โ€ Rafe grumbled out as she began to wet antiseptic pads in front of him. She looked up at him, gaze incredulous.
โ€œThis is bad, Rafe. You donโ€™t just get something like this accidentally! You said you got into trouble before - what did you mean by that?โ€ She questioned. Rafe sighed, having underestimated just how much she would question him, but he shouldโ€™ve expected that, he thought to himself. When he didnโ€™t answer, she began to clean his arm.
The sharp stinging sensation that travelled through him as the antiseptic touched his burn made Rafe jump, his voice exclaiming in shock. It was that sudden pain that caused the unshed tears in his eyes to spill over, and it was like once he started he couldnโ€™t stop. All his pain and worries spilled out of him, the tears streaming down his face.
โ€œOh baby, itโ€™s ok, come here,โ€ he heard her say, cleaning forgotten as she pulled his head into her chest. Whenever she had comforted Rafe in the past, this had been his favourite position, curled up against her chest and having his hair stroked. So she did just that, soothing his heaving sobs with each pass through his hair. โ€œItโ€™s ok Rafe, youโ€™re ok here baby. Iโ€™ve got you, ok? Breathe, Rafe.โ€
He didnโ€™t know how long they stayed like that, his sobs wetting the fabric of the tank top she wore. Heโ€™d almost completely exhausted himself by the time his sobs stopped, only able to breathe deeply now. It was then his muffled voice could be heard, โ€œit was Barry.โ€
He felt her stiffen before she tentatively probed further. โ€œBarry, your dealer?โ€
At the feeling of him nodding, she pulled him away from her chest. Her voice was stern, as if she was talking to a small child,
โ€œRafe, why is your dealer burning you? What did you do?โ€
He looked up at her, eyes wide and rimmed with red. He looked just a like their son, she thought, his features so innocent and needy.
โ€œI-I couldnโ€™t pay him back in timeโ€ฆ I tried, I really did, but I had this thing and I couldnโ€™t get it all there in time, and I said- I said to him I would get it bu-but he didnโ€™t care,โ€ Rafe began to ramble, his voice pleading with her to understand him. He had been trying to do better, for her - for his family. He watched her sigh, before she returned to clean his wound in silence. Rafe wanted to speak, to explain himself more but he didnโ€™t know what to say, and the idea of her disappointed gaze upon him once more sealed his lips. The feeling of her fingers smoothing a burn cream over his wound tenderly had him curling back into her chest.
She began to card her fingers back through his blonde locks, feeling Rafe relax against her. When he was upset he would be one of two ways: angry and reactive, or clingy and touch-starved. Today, it was clear he was the latter. She couldnโ€™t bare to leave him alone like this, and so she gently whispered,
โ€œCome here baby, letโ€™s get you into bed, ok?โ€
Rafe pulled away, his eyes wide as he looked up upon her face.
โ€œHere?โ€
She nodded and began to pull the covers away, creating a space for him to shuffle in. Rafe allowed himself to be guided under the quilt and he couldnโ€™t help but sigh at the feeling of her fingers tenderly brushing his messed-up strands away from his forehead. As he made space for her beside him, Rafe watched his girlfriend pull away from the bed.
โ€œNononono-โ€ he began to mutter, only to be cut off. His hand was outstretched pathetically to try and keep her by his side, scared to be alone.
โ€œHey, hey, itโ€™s ok. Iโ€™m just going to the nursery. I thought youโ€™d want him to stay with us tonight,โ€ she soothed, watching surprised as Rafe shook his head in response.
โ€œNo, let him sleep. Just cโ€™mere,โ€ he mumbled, dragging her into his side and under the blankets. Within seconds Rafe had found his position for the night, curled up into her side, his head resting on her chest once more. He was so sullen and quiet as he listened to her heartbeat, hands clutching at her waist.
โ€œGoodnight Rafe,โ€ she uttered sleepily, the events of the night catching up to her.
โ€œI love you,โ€ he said quietly, his voice muffled against her chest. He didnโ€™t say it often, preferring to show his love for her through actions, but she always knew it. With a soft kiss against the crown of his head, she echoed those words back to him, before slipping into unconsciousness,
โ€œI love you too, baby.โ€
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cameronsbabydoll ยท 3 months ago
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I AM SO OBSESSED W SCC RAFE YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!! could you write something about scc reader overheard someone saying that rafe is cheating? maybe they said rafe was checking someone else out. and scc just assumed it was right and swallowed it because she never questions rafe but he noticed sheโ€™s putting up distance between them and the kids also noticed then how would he react? I LOVE ME SOME GOOD ANGST
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cw: mentions of cheating but itโ€™s not true also use of the word โ€œbitchโ€ by rafe
you werenโ€™t even supposed to hear it.
just passing by โ€” holding your babyโ€™s bottle in one hand, laundry basket tucked against your hip โ€” when you heard it. rafeโ€™s name. a hushed laugh. something like, โ€œhe was totally looking at her ass.โ€
you froze.
you didnโ€™t ask. you didnโ€™t say anything. you just swallowed it down. like everything else.
because you never ask rafe questions like that. you never pry. never accuse. and if he was? what would you even do?
so you justโ€ฆ started pulling back. gently. subtly.
you didnโ€™t sit close on the couch that night. didnโ€™t text him during the day like you usually do. didnโ€™t even say anything when he came home late again. just smiled a little. nodded. said โ€œokay.โ€
but he noticed. immediately.
โ€œwhatโ€™s with you?โ€
you shook your head. โ€œnothing.โ€
โ€œyouโ€™re actinโ€™ different.โ€
you waved him off. โ€œiโ€™m fine, rafe. really.โ€
and the kids noticed too. especially your daughter โ€” perched on the arm of the couch while you fed her baby brother, frowning as she whispered, โ€œmommy, why didnโ€™t you wait for daddy to come home tonight?โ€
rafe hears her. his jaw sets.
he doesnโ€™t say anything right away. but his eyes donโ€™t leave you.
and eventuallyโ€”when youโ€™re folding towels in the bedroom, trying to keep it togetherโ€”he steps in, shuts the door behind him, and says, low and sharp,
โ€œwhat the fuck did you hear?โ€
you blink. flinch. try to shake your head again, but heโ€™s already walking toward you.
โ€œyouโ€™ve been off all week. wonโ€™t even look at me. wonโ€™t touch me. wonโ€™t let me near you. so tell me what the fuck happened.โ€
โ€œโ€ฆsomeone said you were looking at another woman.โ€
you say it so quietly. like it hurts to admit. like you already convinced yourself it was true.
and that pisses him off.
โ€œyou think iโ€™d cheat on you?โ€
โ€œโ€ฆi donโ€™t know.โ€
โ€œyou think iโ€™d throw away all of this for some random bitch at the bar?โ€
you look down. your throat feels tight.
and his voice dropsโ€”less angry now, more sharp and hurt.
โ€œso thatโ€™s all it takes? some nobody says somethinโ€™ and now you donโ€™t trust me?โ€
you whisper, โ€œi didnโ€™t want it to be true.โ€
and thatโ€™s what stops him.
because your voice cracks on want, and your hands are shaking as you fold the last towel, and he can see it nowโ€”how scared you are to even ask him if it was true.
he exhales through his nose. jaw clenched.
and then heโ€™s pulling the towel out of your hands, tossing it on the bed, dragging you into his arms. wrapping you up even when you go stiff.
โ€œif i wanted someone else, i wouldnโ€™t have married you.โ€
he grips your chin, makes you look up.
โ€œdonโ€™t you ever let someone get in your head like that again. you hear me?โ€
you nod. still a little unsure. still holding back.
but when he kisses you โ€” slow and firm and low against your lips โ€” you feel your knees go soft again.
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erwinsvow ยท 6 months ago
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you'd never really put this much effort in at other houses. while you're scrubbing the countertops to remove every last bit of evidence that someoneโ€”anyoneโ€”had made a mess there, you think about the other houses you used to babysit for.
used to, since there was no need to babysit anymore. mister cameron, who will always remain mister cameronโ€”no matter how much he reminds you to call him rafeโ€”actually pays you double what your other families did. he's a busy guy. you know this for a factโ€”single dad and some big business guy that people in town used to talk about all the time when you used to listenโ€”so he'd have last minute emergencies and random business calls all the time.
his exact words had been something along the lines of "don't wanna share you with anyone else," but even thinking about that encounter makes your face burn with so much intensity that you think you're going to collapse. that's not what he meant, obviously, he was trying to tell you in nicer words that it was annoying when you replied to his texts explaining how another family had booked you already for that night. so when he upped your rate and said that he'd even pay to say no to others, just in case, you would have been really stupid to say no.
you don't hear much about him anymore, when you're out and about. you spend so much time at the cameron house that your own little apartment seems like nothing more than a bed and a place to get ready before leaving. you practically eat three meals a day with the baby, so even your grocery shopping is in that part of townโ€”all organic, expensive places where you talk to the baby and try to get her opinion on which vegetable puree she'd like to try this week.
it's kind of like playing pretend. no, it's really like playing pretend. you used to dress in the normal, comfortable clothes that were sufficient for babysitting every other familyโ€”overalls and sneakersโ€”but now you don't fit in unless you're in a pretty dress and nice sandals. you stay in one outfit from when you show up before mister cameron leaves to when you drive home at the end of the night.
that's the other thingโ€”your car. you've made it work with the same one since you could first drive. it's a little rusty, a little dinged up, but safe as can be. it's nothing fancy but it got you around. but now you do other things for rafe that you never did for other familiesโ€”grocery shopping and errands and the occasional doctor's appointment if rafe really, really can't make it. you don't mind at allโ€”it's fun to play pretend and you love her like she's your own, but mister cameron tries to make it to every appointment himself, because he really cares about his daughter. it's admirable because you don't see it in every single household.
you hadn't thought there was anything wrong with your car until one day you couldn't get the air conditioning to work, and the back window got jammed and the baby looked so uncomfortable that you had to skip out on whatever you were supposed to do that day. when mister cameron came home that night you apologized so much that you started cryingโ€”because really, you never thought there was something wrong with your car and you didn't want to make the baby drive in the heat, just in case. you think he'll be mad, there's no groceries and his suit is still at the cleaner's, and the lotion that you use every night after bathtime has ran out and there'll be none for tomorrowโ€”but he's not.
he's not mad at all. he seems... tired. he seems worried. the first thing he asks that night is if you and the baby are okay. when you nod, afraid that this is the calm before the storm, he sighs.
"good. that's all i care about," and the way he says itโ€”you believe him right away. maybe that's the night your little crush on mister cameron started forming. it'd always been there in the background, you'd be an idiot of massive proportions to deny it. but it felt different somehow, watching him roll up his sleeves and pulling out whatever ingredients there were left over to make dinner with, something that you normally tried to have done every night for him, while telling you to take a seat.
that night he asks about your carโ€”how old is it, when'd you get it, how many miles. do you like the model? would you want bigger, smaller, a different color? it's just conversationโ€”he probably likes cars with the way there's a really nice in the garage under a sheet and a nice but safer one that he takes to work everyday.
(while he's cooking pasta and cutting vegetables, you try to get up and help, but he meets your eyes and shakes his head. wordlessly, you obey and sit back down.)
that's the first night things felt different. you drove home a little giddy, later than normal, stomach full and heart a little too happy that you found it in yourself to finally have a real, nice conversation with mister cameron. you're as shy as they come but your interactions with him are limitedโ€”before work, a phone call at lunch (though recently, his first question hasn't been about the baby... it's been how are my girls?), and after work before you leave.
it feels good to know that you're doing something right, that you're good at this even on your bad days. you make a point to leave your place extra early that week, stopping at the pharmacy and picking up the lotion so it's one less thing to worry about. your window still won't roll down and you'll have to figure out how to get the groceries delivered, crossing your fingers that it doesn't cost that much more.
you show up a couple minutes early and go inside to sort out the stuff for the baby before she wakes, when you find mister cameron in the nursery.
"good morning," you say quietly, though it comes out a little above a whisper. she's still sleeping, even though you haven't glanced in the crib, you know her schedule like the back of your hand.
"hey, kid," he says, and your heart starts to thud a little faster. mister cameron's nicknames for you don't make an appearance everyday but for some reason, it has today. he hovers over the crib, watching the baby's chest rise and fall with each breath. you go over to join him, placing the lotion on the dresser. he notices the bottle and turns back to you. "you didn't have to do that."
"she needs it," you reply quietly. "it's the only one she likes. and i was up early anyways."
"thank you." it comes out with such sincerity that you're a little taken aback.
"of course, mister cameron. it's nothing," you smile up at him. he glances back at you, smiling and then turning to his daughter again. "i'm gonna go start on her breakfast."
you make your way to the door when he says your name.
"there's keys on the kitchen counter, and the car's in the garage. i'd like it if you started using that car instead."
and reallyโ€”how are you supposed to respond to that? you stammer out an 'of course, mister cameron' and go downstairs, crossing your fingers that he made a mistake, or that he wants you to drive his car until you fix yours and he'll take the nice one tucked away in the garage.
but when you make it to the counter, and then head to the garage, your eyes nearly fall out of your head. a brand new pair of car keys, to match the brand new car in the garage. your arguments fall on deaf earsโ€”this is way too much for anyone. yes, you're pretty much throwing money away by still paying rent and the cost of getting your car fixed could probably be enough to start paying for a better one, but this is too much. way too much. it's not normal. right?
but you have no one to ask. the baby's not old enough for playdates, and the girls who replaced you at your old houses are pretty much all high school seniors. on mister cameron's side of town, there's only nannies and au pairs, and they'd probably think you're crazy for turning down such a nice gesture.
and it is a nice gesture. mister cameron listens to every word you say, even when you're not paying attention to your own sentence. the car is exactly how you describedโ€”the color you wanted, the size you said would be nice one day incase there's ever a playdate or another baby or whatever the case may be. it's shiny and brand-new and completely undeserving of you. but he doesn't listen.
somewhere along the next month, you realize you could get really used to this. mister cameron does have a pointโ€”you're taking care of his daughter every day, so it only makes sense to make sure she's as safe as can be. you make a mental note that if you everโ€”for whatever idiotic reasonโ€”choose to leave this perfect job, you'll make sure he gets the car back.
there comes a point where the relationship... makes its way to the next level. at the end of every week, you have to settle the bills. co-pays at appointments, grocery receipts, the invoice from the gardener that didn't go through so you had given him your own cash so mister cameron wouldn't have to deal with it from work. it adds up, so once the baby is asleep on saturday night, the two of you eat dinner and go through everything.
but this time, he hands you a card instead. a shiny black credit card that spells out his name on the back.
"makes it a bit easier, right? just use this instead. we won't have to settle every week anymore."
"right," you agree, your smile fading quickly. you try to put on a front, a false expression so he doesn't notice your disappointment. saturday nights with mister cameronโ€”him with his beer and you with a glass of wineโ€”once the baby is asleep, sorting out bills and making conversation that almost felt like you belonged here, had unknowingly become your favorite part of the week. sometimes it would go until midnight, talking about things that were neither here nor there.
it's how you learned why he's a single dad, what he does for work, how he feels about his job and how much time it takes away from his daughter. it's why you started sending him photo and video updates everyday so he wouldn't feel like he's missing out on as much, it's why you make sure to craft the baby's bedtime routine around him coming home, so they have their time together.
"somethin' wrong?" he asks, after taking another sip of beer. you're snapped out of your thoughts, focusing instead of how rafe looks today. tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, fingers curled around the beer bottle.
you don't know how any woman on earth could have walked away from this.
"n-nothing. no. thank you, mister cameron, this is great. i'll make sure-"
"it's rafe from now onโ€”remember, kid?"
"yes. sorry, i-"
you couldn't get out of there fast enough that night. it's almost a subtle reminder from the universeโ€”you're not part of that family. you're the nanny who got too attached, who pretended that she fit in too much to a family that's not hers.
you still wear your nicer clothes, you still drive around his nice car. but you try to remind yourself every now and then that this isn't your real life.
the next day, it's like the universe has decided that it's mad at you for coming to this conclusion.
pouring rain the second you get into the car. your raincoat and umbrella and a sensible pair of shoes remain inside your apartment, and if you sit in idle any longer, you're going to be late to mister cameron's. he'll want to leave early since it's raining, so he's probably expecting you any minute.
the roads are a messโ€”it's monsooning for no reason and people forget how to drive. you honk no less than three times at idiots on the road before getting scared that someone will road-rage you. when you pull into the garageโ€”because yes, mister cameron insists that you park inside and that he can park outsideโ€” you're frazzled and sweating and your day hasn't even started yet.
rafe's almost ready to leave, which is another damper on an already bad morningโ€”if he has time, the two of you eat breakfast together. you tell him to drive safe and apologize for being late when he rushes past you, leaning in to kiss your cheek and telling you that he might he home late today, and to have a good day. you don't realize what's happened until he's gone, the door closing behind him.
you stand in the foyer with your mouth open until you hear the baby monitor. from that point onโ€”it's one thing after another. the baby is fussy today, which is the most unusual part of the day. she's never like this, and you conclude that she must be getting sick or something. it's just as well, because there's no reason to go out or to take her out in this weather. she cries, and you try to help, even cave and put on some episodes of little bear to see if something would distract her. but the poor thing just doesn't feel good, and has no way to tell you how.
the hours fly by, and your head even hurts a little from the crying and the overthinking about the kiss from this morning. in all the rush, you eat about two bites of lunch before the baby needs something else.
and then at the end of the day, right around when rafe should be coming home, he doesn't.
you feed the baby and rock her to sleep. she fusses ten minutes later, and spits up all over you and your hair, and then knocks out. you even spend twenty minutes hovering over the monitor, making sure she's okay while drying your hair. rafe's still not home, so you get dinner ready and warmed for him, eating yours alone in the silence. and as if you could handle another thing, you spill sauce all over your dress while trying to put away the leftovers.
you were going to wait until you were back home, safe in your tiny apartment to cry and shower and scrub your skin raw from the day you've had, but it can't wait any longer. you take the monitor into the bathroom with you at full volume, and decide to shower in the bathroom closest to the baby's room just to be safe.
it's not until you're naked, wrapped in a soft towel and waiting for the water to get scalding hot, racking your brain for the location of the extra clothes you had once brought here that you realize the shower closest to the baby's room is the shower in rafe's bedroom.
you haven't been in here beforeโ€”looking around at the expensive cologne on the counter and the dark blue towels and the hamper full of yesterday's dress shirt. it's not a good idea to be in here, but you need to shower and you can't wait another minute. for all you know, mister cameron could come home in another two hours. your dress is spinning in the washerโ€”and your plan is set. throw it in the dryer, find something to wear for the next fifty minutes, and leave as soon as he's home even though you can hear the raindrops on the roof and the thunder outside.
the shower is what you have been needing all day. you wish you had your body wash and shampoo, but his aren't too bad. you inhale deeply, realizing you're submerging yourself in his scent. you could stay in there forever, but you don'tโ€”he's gonna be home any minute or the baby could start crying, and you need to go home.
but he smells so good. you've noticed it before, it just feels amplified now. the towel you wrap yourself in is his, meaning he's dried himself with it before. all the clothes smell like his cologne, and the house is a little cold and your clothes are still washing, and though it's probably the worst idea you've ever had, when you get out of the shower, you head to his dresser and pull out the first clean t-shirt you can find.
it's big on you, you knew it would be. it's soft and warm and smells undeniably like mister cameron. you're completely clueless, exhausted because the baby barely napped and you barely got any sleep yourself, and it's way past your own bedtime right now. he might not even come home, you think, with how the storm sounds. you check your phone but there's no messages, just a flood warning.
yesterday's socks and underwear are still spinning in the machineโ€”how long does this thing take? what setting had you put it on?โ€”and you begrudgingly leave rafe's warm bedroom with the baby monitor in one hand, and his navy blue towel in the other, drying your hair. you turn on the television, watching whatever's on while you pat your strands dry, bending over to wrap your hair into the towel so you can sit for a couple minutes, when you hear the door open.
you snap back up, looking at rafe's face stare back at youโ€”he's drenched, hair wet and suit dripping, wiping his forehead with his hand when he looks you up and down. oh god, you don't even know what he just saw, you were bent over and-
"is that my shirt?"
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