#rafe cameron blurb

[rafecameroninterlude]

#thinkingthots

Rafe and Bambi!reader are fucking and he stops, pulls out, taps his tip on her pussy and then slides back in🙂‍↕️mhm mhm..super freaky

bambi is hysterical when rafe puts her legs on his shoulders and drills into her like there’s no tomorrow. he’s merciless with his thrusts, her knees knocking her chest as the man above her fills her to the hilt. their faces are mere centimeters away, their breaths mixing as bambi!reader cries out. rafe thinks she’s the prettiest when she can barely take what’s being given to her. “i’m so fuckin’ deep right now,” rafe’s eybrows knitted together, his mouth falling open when you clenched around his length, “wanna see?” you nodded, craning your neck to watch him slowly pull out. your lips part, a whimper escaping when he taps your clit with his glossy tip. “so wet for me, watch how i just slip right in..” your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head when all inches of him slid back in with ease. “takin’ me so good..”

[starkeyisthelastname]

The pictures you can find on DILF/Husband!Rafe’s Facebook part two. 🙈🤭

[rafecameronssl4t]

Ok, question, fem! forced marriage au - how would Rafe react/feel if she brought up ANYTHING about separating, weather that’s flat out divorce or doing it in secret - happy to the public but living in diff spaces/diff lives/maybe even having affairs(?)

Tied bonds || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: don't mind me going off slightly in the beginning when its talking about the legality side of it, i was literally studying trusts and estates law a couple days ago lol

Warnings: angst galore!

Word count: 2,801

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The heavy oak doors of the estate’s study shut behind you with a quiet but resolute thud, isolating you from the rest of the world. The room, with its high ceilings and ornate furnishings, exudes both the security and suffocation of wealth. The scent of polished mahogany and aged leather permeates the air, a sensory reminder of the legacy you're bound to uphold and the responsibilities weighing on your shoulders.

The dim light from the tall windows casts long shadows across the room, making it feel as though the walls themselves are closing in, urging you to act before time runs out. You sit across from your lawyer at the broad mahogany desk. He’s a man in his 50s, with silver-threaded hair and sharp, calculating eyes. His demeanour exudes quiet authority, the kind of calm that comes from handling the complex finances of wealthy families like yours for decades.

A briefcase sits open beside him, documents meticulously laid out in front of you. These aren’t just numbers and figures on a page—they represent your children’s future, your security, and the small corner of independence you’re desperately trying to carve out for yourself. “Now, given the scale of your family’s assets,” your lawyer begins, his voice smooth and professional, “it’s prudent to separate certain accounts. Some in your name, some under irrevocable trusts for the children. This will not only shield them from potential claims but also provide financial protection in the event of....unforeseen circumstances—marital or otherwise.”

You glance down at the papers, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. This was necessary, you remind yourself. You need some semblance of independence, some safeguard for your children. With Rafe’s unpredictable behaviour and the constant pressure from both families, you can’t afford to let everything slip from your control. Your lawyer pulls out another document, sliding it across the desk.

“We’re talking about setting up separate trusts for each of your children. These funds will be distributed to them upon reaching a certain age—18 or 21, depending on your preference. In the meantime, control of the trust can be vested in you alone, ensuring that no one else has access to or influence over these assets, including your husband.”

“And what about Rafe’s side of the family?” you ask, your voice quieter than you intended. “Would they have any legal claim?” The lawyer shakes his head firmly. “No. Not if everything is properly structured. The trusts would be irrevocable, meaning no one—not even your husband—could alter them once established. His family would have no legal right to interfere, regardless of any financial entanglements between the two of you.”

You take a breath, the enormity of it all settling in. This is exactly what you wanted—an impenetrable safeguard. A plan that ensures your children’s future remains under your control, untouched by the unpredictable tides of Rafe’s influence or the demands of your family. “Thank you,” you respond softly, your fingers tracing the edge of the document, the weight of your decision pressing heavily on your chest. “I want everything arranged quietly,” you say softly, your voice carrying the weight of your decision.

“No one else needs to know about this… especially my husband.” The lawyer gives a small, understanding nod. “Discretion is key, as always.” You sign where indicated, feeling a mixture of relief and unease as you watch your name inked onto the page. This is the right thing to do, you remind yourself. For your children, for their future. Yet as you rise from the desk and collect your things, a sense of foreboding lingers.

The heavy oak doors creak open as you step out, and the estate feels impossibly vast around you. Despite the careful planning, you can’t shake the feeling that keeping this from Rafe will lead to complications far greater than you anticipate. With every step you take, the sinking feeling grows. You only hope Rafe doesn’t find out before you’re ready to tell him.

~

The moment you step through the front door of your home, the tension in the air is palpable. You pause, your coat still in hand, as your eyes land on Rafe. He’s leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, an almost relaxed posture, but the intensity in his gaze betrays any notion of calm. His sharp blue eyes follow your every move, calculating, probing.

"You have a nice little meeting today?" His voice is cold, deceptively casual. But you can hear the edge in it—the suspicion lurking beneath the surface. Your heart skips a beat, anxiety pooling in your chest. Of course, he knows. Rafe always knows. You hang your coat on the rack, avoiding his gaze, trying to maintain some semblance of calm. "I had a few things to take care of. Where are the children?"

You answer nonchalantly, hoping to steer the conversation away from any confrontation. "With Astoria, they wanted to play with their cousins," Rafe answers, his gaze sharp as he pushes off the doorframe, taking a slow, deliberate step toward you, his presence overwhelming as always. "Answer my question," His tone hardens, suspicion fully creeping into his voice now. "I know you met with your lawyer. What are you up to?"

Your pulse quickens as you hold Rafe’s gaze, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. He’s already jumping to conclusions, constructing a narrative that fits his fears. You knew this confrontation was inevitable, but the reality of it still unsettles you, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. "It’s nothing that concerns you," you respond, keeping your tone as even as possible, despite the way your nerves fray under his scrutiny. "Just some family matters."

Rafe scoffs, the sound harsh and filled with disbelief. His jaw clenches as he steps even closer, his towering figure casting a shadow over you, blocking any hope of retreat. His presence is overbearing, the heat of his anger palpable in the air between you. "Family matters?" His voice is dripping with accusation, dark and biting. "Don’t play games with me. I heard enough to know this wasn’t just about your parents or your siblings."

His words cut deeper as his tone drops, low and dangerous. "You’re setting up trust funds. Inheritance management. Without telling me. What the hell are you planning?" His words slam into you, twisting your stomach in knots. His paranoia, the sharpness of his accusations, stings in a way you hadn’t fully prepared for. Of course, you knew he’d react like this, but hearing it out loud—his anger, his distrust—it’s worse than you imagined. You steady your breath, trying to keep your composure.

"It’s for the children, Rafe," you say, your voice soft but firm, though the tightness in your chest makes it difficult to breathe. "I want to make sure they’re taken care of, no matter what happens. That’s all this is." But even as you say it, you can see the suspicion lingering in his eyes, the doubt still gnawing at him, twisting this simple act of protection into something more sinister in his mind.

Rafe glares at you, his eyes dark and intense as they search your face for the slightest hint of deception. His presence feels overwhelming as he steps even closer, the space between you disappearing in an instant. Without breaking eye contact, his hand moves down deliberately, resting on the swell of your belly where your third child grows. His touch, firm and possessive, sends a chill through you.

"You don’t trust me with that?" His voice is low, almost a growl, laced with an edge of disbelief and wounded pride. "You think I wouldn’t look out for my own kids?" His words sting, but it's the subtle accusation in his tone that cuts deeper, as if he can’t comprehend why you would feel the need to act independently. Your frustration bubbles to the surface despite your best efforts to remain calm, your emotions swirling between anger and exhaustion.

"That’s not what this is about," you snap, your voice sharp as the tension between you flares. You're trying to hold it together, but the weight of his misunderstanding—of him always assuming the worst—pushes you to the brink. "I’m doing this to protect them. To protect us. You can’t control everything, Rafe." For a split second, something flickers in his eyes—hurt, maybe—but it vanishes quickly, replaced by his usual defensiveness. He steps closer, his voice lowering, cold and accusatory.

"You’re doing all of this behind my back," he growls. "And I’m supposed to believe it’s just for the kids? You don’t set up secret meetings with lawyers for something as simple as trust funds. It looks more like you’re preparing for something else. Like maybe you’re planning to escape this all." His breath is hot against your ear now, the venom in his words unmistakable. "Is that it? Are you getting ready to leave me?"

His accusation hits you hard, knocking the air from your lungs. The vulnerability behind it cuts deeper than you expected. It’s not just anger simmering in his voice—there’s fear too, buried beneath the suspicion, fear of losing control, of you slipping away. His jaw tightens, but his hand remains firmly pressed against the swell of your stomach, as if anchoring himself to you, to the life you’re carrying.

“And have our children without their father?” you ask, your voice sharp. There’s a flicker of something more beneath the surface—hurt, uncertainty. His eyes search yours, almost pleading. You blink, stunned by the weight of your own question. “Rafe…” you begin, your voice barely a whisper, incredulity lacing your words as you try to make sense of what you’ve just implied. “I’m not leaving you.”

The tension in the room feels suffocating, as if the walls themselves are closing in. You take a breath, steadying yourself, as you step closer, your gaze softening despite the frustration swirling inside you. "This isn’t about that,” you say gently, trying to reach him through the haze of his suspicions. “But I need some control over my life, Rafe. Some protection.” Your voice wavers slightly, but you press on. “I’m not just here to be controlled or managed. I need to know that I’m not just a piece in this game.”

You can feel his breath against your skin, heavy with unspoken fears, and for a brief moment, the façade of his strength cracks. The fear of losing control, of losing you, is palpable, and it clings to the space between you like a storm cloud ready to burst. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, pacing in frustration. "Control. Protection," he mutters under his breath, his movements sharp and agitated. "You think I’m the threat here? You think I wouldn’t protect you? Protect our family?"

You shake your head, stepping back slightly, trying to maintain some distance from the intensity of his emotions. "I never said that," you say, your voice softer now, trying to calm him. "But this is something I need to do. For me. For them." For a long moment, the two of you stand there, locked in a silent standoff. His breathing is heavy, and the anger in his eyes slowly shifts into something else—something more conflicted. He turns away from you, pacing a few steps before running his hands through his hair again.

"This isn’t how marriages are supposed to work," Rafe mutters, more to himself than to you. The words cut deep, piercing through the fragile layer of calm you’ve been clinging to. It’s a painful reminder of what your marriage has become—what it’s always been. The expectations, the compromises, the strain. This life… it’s not what either of you envisioned. You feel the urge to retort, to let loose the frustrations that have built up over the years, but you bite your tongue. Now isn’t the time for that argument.

"I know," you whisper, though you’re not sure if he hears you. The admission feels hollow in the tense silence that follows, the weight of your reality pressing down on both of you. The room feels unbearably heavy, the air thick with unsaid words. Rafe exhales, his broad shoulders sagging ever so slightly, as though some of the fire inside him has been extinguished. He turns his back to you, the physical distance a reflection of the emotional chasm that has been growing between you both.

For a brief moment, you consider stepping closer, reaching out, bridging that gap—but the weight of your decision, of everything you’ve been trying to secure for yourself and the children, holds you back. It’s a boundary you can’t afford to cross right now. "You should’ve told me," he finally says, his voice quieter, but still taut with lingering tension. There’s hurt there, beneath the anger, beneath his instinct to control everything around him.

Your throat tightens at his words, the soft accusation lingering in the space between you. "I didn’t want this to turn into a fight," you admit, your own voice subdued, drained from the confrontation. The fatigue in your bones echoes in your tone. "I just needed to make sure everything was in place. For the kids, for their future." You pause, the weight of your decisions settling on your chest. "I wasn’t trying to hide it from you."

Rafe turns back to face you, his expression a mixture of frustration, hurt, and something more vulnerable—something he rarely lets show. "It feels like you were," he mutters, the edge of accusation still present, though softer now. His blue eyes search yours, looking for answers, reassurance, something to ease the fear behind his suspicion. You hold his gaze, trying to convey the truth behind your words. "I need to feel like I have some control, Rafe," you say gently, your voice steady but laced with an underlying sadness.

"Our lives… they’re not easy. And I know you want to protect us, but I need to protect them too. In my own way." Your heart beats heavily in your chest, each word an attempt to bridge the gap between you, a gap that seems to widen with every conflict. Rafe’s gaze lingers on you, the tension between you both crackling in the air. You take a tentative step forward, closing the physical distance between you, hoping it will ease the emotional one. Just as you stop inches from him, his expression softens slightly.

He reaches for your hand, his grip firm yet tender, and before you can say anything, he brings it up to his lips. The moment feels suspended in time as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. It’s a gesture so gentle, so unlike the earlier confrontation, that it catches you off guard. The vulnerability in his eyes flickers, almost as if he’s silently asking for forgiveness or offering an unspoken truce.

You feel your heart ache, the gesture disarming you in a way his words couldn’t. It’s as though this kiss is his way of telling you that, despite his anger, despite his suspicions, there’s something deeper binding you together—a love neither of you can deny, even in moments like this. “I’m not the enemy, Y/n,” he repeats softly, his voice rough but sincere, the earlier accusation tempered by this quiet moment.

His lips linger on your skin for just a second longer before he lowers your hand, though he doesn’t let go. You swallow hard, your chest tight with emotion, your voice a whisper as you respond. "I know you're not." The air between you feels different now—quieter, softer, though still tinged with the weight of everything unresolved. For that fleeting moment, it feels as though the two of you are in sync again, even if just barely.

Rafe’s hand remains wrapped around yours, and though the tension between you hasn’t fully dissipated, it’s no longer suffocating. The kiss to your knuckles feels like a promise, fragile but meaningful. As he finally lets go and turns away, you watch him disappear down the hallway, the memory of his lips on your skin lingering long after he's gone. The weight of your choices still presses down on you, but somehow, in that brief exchange, it feels a little lighter.

You know this isn’t over. Rafe’s suspicions won’t vanish overnight, and your need for autonomy remains unresolved. But for now, the confrontation is over. The weight of your decisions, the strain on your already fragile relationship, presses down on you like a heavy cloak. You did the right thing, you remind yourself. This is about protecting your children, about securing a future for them. For now, all you can do is hope that, in time, he’ll come to understand why you did this. Why you needed to.

[littlelamy]

i luv shopaholic reader🛍️how about when she comes back him from a long day of shopping she makes rafe sit down and look at everything she got bonus if barry happens to be there😭

a/n: i am happy you love her! i was so scared to write out the ask so i feel so much better know so many people like shopaholic reader! 😝thank you for sending a request 🤍

you push open the door with a grin, arms heavy with bags from your long day out. the living room lights cast a warm glow, and you spot rafe lounging on the couch, his long legs stretched out, one arm lazily draped over the backrest. barry is there too, slouched next to him, probably running his mouth as usual.

rafe’s eyes land on you immediately, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. "well, well, look who’s back," he drawls, glancing at the mountain of bags in your hands. "how much damage did you do today?"

you step into the room, dropping your bags with a dramatic sigh. "enough," you tease, leaning down to start rummaging through your purchases. "and now you get to sit here and admire all the amazing things i got."

barry chuckles from the other side of the couch. "oh, this should be good. let’s see what you got for pretty boy over here."

rafe rolls his eyes, shifting in his seat. "barry, shut up."

you pull out the first item, a sleek black dress that you’re particularly excited about, holding it up against your body and giving a little twirl. "so… what do you think? date night material?"

rafe’s gaze darkens, his eyes raking over you slowly. "definitely. though i’d prefer if you weren’t wearing anything at all."

you toss the dress at him, heat creeping up your cheeks. "behave."

rafe catches the dress, his smirk widening as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "come here and i might."

barry snickers. "damn, she’s got you real bad, huh?"

ignoring barry, you pull out a pair of shoes next. "these? i bought just because i knew they’d drive you crazy."

rafe’s eyes flick down to the strappy heels, and you can see the flicker of approval in his gaze. "put ‘em on."

"you wish." you flash him a playful smile, slipping the heels back into the box. "maybe if you’re good."

barry throws his head back, laughing. "this is better than i thought. i’m staying."

rafe’s eyes narrow at barry, but he turns his attention back to you, a more dangerous edge to his voice. "you really gonna make me sit here and watch you play dress-up all night, or are you gonna come over here and give me a real show?"

you walk closer, your eyes locking with his, the tension crackling between you. "a real show, huh?" you lean down just enough so that your lips are inches from his. "what do i get out of it?"

rafe’s hand moves to your waist, pulling you the rest of the way until you're sitting in his lap. "you’ll get more than you can handle."

barry rolls his eyes. "okay, i’m outta here before it gets x-rated."

you laugh, but the sound fades as rafe's hand slides up your thigh, his lips brushing against your ear. "now, show me what else you bought, or i’ll lose interest real fast."

you smirk, giving him a teasing look. "oh, i don’t think you’re gonna lose interest anytime soon."

taglist (if you want to be added comment below): princessslutt averyoceanblvd iknowthatsrightbih starkeysprincess sixrosberg anamiad00msday

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: girl bye this whole part is just screaming n crying omg be prepared

prev next

authors note: wanted to make a little unexpected visit at the end given his character but yk 😋 let me know if u arent on the tag list yet !! interact w me thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

long story short, the group collectively agree to postpone this dinner night because of what happened. just as you left the restroom, drew was gone and were instead met by leila who told you they were leaving to eat at the pearl some other time.

you feel terrible that they had to witness what they did, and you assume they must’ve seen you and drew talking in the hallway for them to make this decision. they know something’s wrong between you two, and you almost break on the spot. it’s like the whole plan is crashing down and you don’t know what to do, how to move forward.

you and drew travel in different cars on the way home but to end off the night, the group splits up. some dress down and head back to explore the town at night or there are others who choose to stay home, just keep a respectful distance.

you rid of your clothes and step into the shower to collect your thoughts, and it takes everything in you not to cry from frustration. the steam curls around you, the hot water beating down your back like it’s trying to wash the weight of everything away—but it doesn’t.

no amount of heat or scrubbing can erase the guilt, regret, and shame that engulf you.

when you finally step out, your skin is red from the heat, and you wipe a hand over the fogged mirror, catching a glimpse of your own tired reflection. your new clothes cling to your still-damp skin, and your hair hangs heavy and wet down your back.

when you step out of the bathroom, the cool air bites at your skin, but that’s not what makes you freeze. you see him—drew—walking toward your shared room. he’s freshly showered, his hair slightly wet, and you realize he must’ve used the bathroom across the hall that gia and roman share.

for a split second, your eyes meet, and you have to bite down on your emotions, hard, before you can speak. before you can let it all flood out.

you get to the door first, quietly letting yourself in, then leaving it open so he comes in too. the air between you feels heavy—like there are words unsaid. you can hear the faint sound of music downstairs, theo’s voice talking low, maybe to leila, but it’s distant. they must be trying to let you talk without feeling like you need to worry.

you step into the room, moving toward the dresser on your side of the room. your hand rests on top of it, gripping the edge for balance, as if the solid wood can keep you grounded. your back is to him, but you can hear him enter. he stands there for a moment, probably watching you, probably waiting for you to say something.

the silence is unbearable.

“why didn’t you just tell me?”

your voice comes out quietly, almost too low for him to hear. you don’t turn around, your eyes focused on the lamp in the corner of the room, as if looking anywhere but at him will keep you from falling apart. your hand tightens on the dresser as you wait for him to answer.

you hear him shuffle behind you, his breath catching like he didn’t expect you to speak first. “i . . . i don’t know,” he says, his voice just as quiet as yours. “i didn’t want to hurt you.”

you swallow hard, blinking rapidly as the familiar burn of tears threatens again. you know he’s trying to be honest, but that answer—it’s not enough. it doesn’t fix anything.

“you didn’t want to hurt me?” your voice wavers, and you finally turn, facing him. he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you like he doesn’t know how to fix the mess he’s made. “this wasn’t even just a few days either. this has been weeks—weeks of us talking, planning, pretending . . . and the whole time, you were lying.”

as you walk over to him, he opens his mouth to respond, but you can see the guilt weighing him down, making it impossible for him to speak right away.

“not only were you lying to them,” you gesture loosely, meaning the others, everyone, “but you were lying to me.” you point to your chest as your voice cracks, weak and filled with betrayal.

his face tilts slightly to the side, and though he’s staring at you, his eyes are glossing over. you can see the weight of what he’s done finally sinking in, and it’s tearing him apart. he swallows hard, his throat tight.

“i didn’t mean to,” he whispers, his voice trembling now. “i never wanted—”

but he stops, his words catching in his throat, and you can see the tears threatening to spill. his jaw tightens as he forces himself to keep looking at you, even though it’s breaking him inside.

“no, but you did,” you tell him. “you made this decision. you created this plan when you had mila back home, drew.”

he winces at her name. you can see it. but you don’t stop.

every day, every conversation, every moment you’ve spent together, he knew. and he said nothing.

your words slow down though, and the weight of them sinks in deeper. “i had finally gotten to a point after we broke up where i felt like i was free of us,” you say, voice quieter now, but raw. “i didn’t have to worry about things like this anymore. i was finally done with us.”

drew’s lips part like he’s about to say something, but he can’t, and you don’t give him the chance. “but here i am.” you let out a short, breathless laugh, as though even you can’t believe the mess you're in. “i mean, i didn’t think agreeing to this plan was going to work out perfectly, but—”

you stop, searching for the words, your throat tight with emotion. it takes everything in you to keep from crying. you look away from him, your voice going numb, the exhaustion seeping through. “but i didn’t think i’d end up feeling like this. like none of it ever really ended.”

you stand there for a moment, letting the weight of everything hang between you two. you wipe at the corner of your eye, then shake your head slightly, more in disbelief than anything else.

“so why?” you ask, “why didn’t you just tell me? why didn’t you say something from the beginning, when we started this whole thing?"

he looks at you, his jaw clenching, but his eyes are filled with guilt. he takes a deep breath, his face turned slightly to the side like he's trying to hold himself together.

“i fell in love with you,” he says, and you scoff. oh, he’s just now fallen in love? he realizes his mistake and gets up when you start to walk away, but he grabs you by the arms, “no, no, no, y/n please, i fell in love with this life—being with you again. i didn’t want to lose that. i’m still in love with you. i always have been. i just realized it too late.”

you can’t believe him. “but you did lose it, drew.” your voice is quieter now, but no less intense. “you lost it the moment you decided to lie. you didn’t just ruin this plan, this stupid fake relationship.”

you shrug him off of you.

“i thought,” your voice cracks, “i thought telling our friends the truth would make everything worse. i was so scared they’d feel like they had to walk on eggshells around us, like it’d be awkward if they knew what happened. but you know what? i wish i’d just told them. instead of this. instead of . . . all of this.”

“and it’s not just about mila,” you say, “even when you’re supposed to be my fake boyfriend, you’re still making decisions for me. you speak for me, like you always know better, like i can’t speak for myself.” you can feel your frustration bubbling to the surface, the heat rising in your chest as you push forward. “it’s like . . . no matter what happens, you still feel like you need to control everything.”

drew’s mouth opens slightly, like he’s about to respond, but you can’t stop now. the words tumble out, each one hitting you harder than the last.

“i mean, do you know how exhausting that is?” your voice rises, and you can feel your emotions slipping, coming out faster than you can stop them. “you made up the plan, you pulled back the moment i was getting comfortable again, even our breakup was your decision.”

his expression hardens, and you can see the conflict raging behind his eyes. “i thought we agreed there wasn’t any point in keeping up something that was barely there,” he says. “we were hardly talking or communicating, y/n. i mean, trying to keep up a relationship for us that wasn’t even really there? was it . . . do you think it would’ve been better if we didn’t break up? i mean—”

“yes! yes, it was worth it! i didn’t care if we weren’t always together!” you blink, caught off guard for just a second, but the fire inside you flares back to life. “and you said there wasn’t any point; not me. we’re busy people, drew, lives like ours don’t get spent every day how these two weeks are supposed to be. you have to know that. so i’m sorry that you felt enough was enough for us but you shouldn’t have had to decide what you thought was best for both of us and make that decision on your own without telling me!”

as you speak, you notice the way his face shifts, confusion and regret flickering in his eyes.

you exhale, shutting your eyes. “trust me, i spent nights worrying about us when we were together, replaying every moment, every doubt.” your voice lowers, becoming more vulnerable, almost a whisper. “and i told myself, ‘okay, that’s normal. that’s normal maybe. so you didn’t get a fairytale relationship; grow up.’”

“but i understood that . . . no matter what, i wouldn’t have left you because i loved you,” you cry, “i stayed because that’s what you do when you love someone.”

drew’s face crumbles at your words, and his gaze drops to the floor. you take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you meet his gaze again. “look, i’m not going to say anything to anyone about mila,” you say. “but you need to figure this out, how we move on from here, and whether you’re going to tell her about this plan because i’m not gonna keep doing it if she’s not comfortable with it.”

drew nods slowly. he’s quiet, visibly processing everything. “i’ll do it,” he says, almost to himself, but you nod anyway. he takes a shuddering breath, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally speaks. “i didn’t mean to lose you,” he says, staring at the ground. “but i did. i know that now.”

you watch him for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging between you, before you turn away. your hand reaches for the door, and this time, you don’t hesitate.

“yeah, you did,” you whisper, voice broken as you open the door and hurry through, leave him standing there alone. “you did.”

drew stands there, frozen in place as the silence settles around him. he watches when you walk away until the laughter from outside fades into a distant echo, and he sinks down onto the edge of the bed, his body heavy with regret.

“—fucking—” he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible. he leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs, and cradles his head in his hands while tears spill from his eyes. in that moment, he’s completely alone, engulfed by the realization that he pushed away the one person who mattered most.

“i’m gonna be back, okay?” libby tells you. you’re sitting in her bed, her and leila feeling like it’s only reasonable for her to step up, and she would’ve no matter what.

“hey,” you say before she goes, your fingers reaching her arm. she halts, looking at you again as she settles back down on the edge of the bed. “thank you for letting me sleep here tonight.”

she gives you a knowing look. “there’s no need y/n. my job is to make sure you’re comfortable and okay. your job is to get under my covers and drool on my pillows ‘til morning.”

“shut up,” you murmur and consider whacking her in the face with one of said pillows, but she leans forward to give you a hug. it’s gentle at first, and you’re relieved to feel a warmth from someone at a time like this. you feel like you can stay there forever, but she pulls away to leave the room.

there’s a knock at the door that startles you a bit, and you wait anxiously for who’s behind it. they open it quietly and peek their head in—roman?

he lets himself inside with cautious steps, and before you can speak he shushes you.

“keep it down, stupid,” he says, and you furrow your eyebrows at him. he takes maybe two steps forward and then stops there. “i just wanted to say sorry for not saying anything before at the peel.”

“the pearl.” you nod, your lips pursed. “thanks.”

he deadpans at you. “i don’t do this very often so i’d appreciate more than just a thanks, you kn—” he pauses to rephrase his words, and you can see the gears shift in his head. he sighs. “i fully saw that you were upset and i didn’t do anything. part of it was because i didn’t know if i should’ve but the other was that the food was just really good—”

“roman,” you try to tell him to get out, but he persists.

“no,” he tells you. he tries to search for the right words before continuing, “i’m just sorry. i don’t want to make it seem like i don’t care or that you don’t have anybody to talk to. and i’m not gonna jump the gun or be all enthusiastic the next time this happens but . . . i just won’t be quiet anymore.”

you’re taken aback by roman’s unexpected display of concern. you can’t tell if you’re imagining this. this has to be the first time you’ve probably ever known him that he’s being like this. but you nod slowly, absorbing his words. “thank you, roman,” you say softly, appreciating the effort he’s making. “it means a lot that you care.”

he shifts on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the emotional territory but pressing on anyway. “good,” he replies, his voice a little firmer. “because i might not always show it, but i do care. just . . . don’t think you have to go through stuff alone, alright? we’re friends, i guess, even if i don’t always act like it.”

you smile faintly, still surprised that he’s even still standing there. “i get it. i appreciate you saying something.”

“goodnight, y/n,” he says. just as he’s about to leave, he glances back, a knowing look in his eyes. “and just so you know, i get that things are complicated with starkey, but it’s pretty obvious you two aren’t really together. you don’t have to pretend around me.”

your heart skips a beat, and you feel a rush of vulnerability. how much does he really know? but before you can question him further, he’s already slipping out the door.

at the same time, libby slides past him with mugs of hot cocoa, “ew, what are you doing here?” she says to roman, avoiding him like he’s her brother. “get out of here.”

she kicks the door closed behind her, and her mood switches to a smile. “what was all that about? oh my god— did he hurt you? did he infect you?” she asks, feigning concern as she plops down next to you and handing you a mug. you take the mug and just shake your head with a grin.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @cl4uus @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy @darkreymbow @congratsloserr @skyslowalking @behindviolettwrites @allthoughtsmindfull

[ahhnini]

academic!rival! rafe moodboard + hcs

a/n - setting up an enemies to lovers? anyways new au!! requests are open for academic!rival! rafe :3 hope yall enjoy! <3

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe who’s the top of his class, on track to graduate #1, practically lives in the school library.

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe who loves pumpkin spice lattes (tells everyone its cold brew).

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe whos wardrobe staples include in his cardigans and scarves.

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe who comes from a wealthy family, who had sent him off to the best university in the country.

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe who has a superiority complex over his classmates. he thinks they’re not intelligent enough to comprehend the material, so he doesn’t talk to them.

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe who feels weight on his shoulders to uphold the cameron legacy. even if he wants to live the stereotypical “college life,” those temptations are crushed by his father’s words, “our family name depends on you, son”

ೃ༄ academic!rival! rafe who bit the inside of his cheek when he checked the class rankings, and saw you about to dethrone him from his rightful place.

ೃ༄ the first time you two crossed paths was in the library, hands reaching for the same textbook. it was a cliche moment that happened in every kiss-met romcom, but to rafe, it was the start of your rivalry. you quickly snagged the book away from his hand, turning around and speed-walking to the study tables. he scoffed, browsing the shelves and settling with an older edition of the textbook.

ೃ༄ from then on, rafe would always see you on campus. and he hated that. he hated that the person who could take everything away from him was almost always right in front of his eyes.

ೃ༄ you made it seem so easy. you’d study for one hour and get top marks on the exams, while rafe would have to study for days to get the material in his head. it wasn’t fair.

ೃ༄ so he ended up doing something he’d never thought he’d do. he was going to sabotage you, in a way you or he never expected.

ೃ༄ one thursday afternoon, you find a letter someone slipped through your dorm door. opening up the envelope, the letter read; would you like to go out to dinner with me, y/n?

signed, rafe cameron.

taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt

click here to be added to my taglist!

[moremaybank]

stepbro!rafe who convinces you to let him fuck your ass when you tell him that you're saving yourself because it “doesn't really count.” really, he just wants to be the only one who’s broken in that tight little hole !!!!!!! so greedy and icky and selfish !!!!!!!

catch up on stepbro!rafe here ♡︎

[rustedhearts]

welcome to roller girl’s pie stand!

. • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ .• ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ . • ☆ . • . • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆

we are: open

an autumn/halloween-themed “slice” commission by roller girl

thanks for stoppin’ by!

. • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . •

instructions:

✶ choose a pie flavor!

✶ choose a character!

✶ send your slice commission on ko-fi! you can send your flavor, character, and (optional) general blurb vibe with your ko-fi donation or through asks!

✶ enjoy your slice of fictional pie!

. • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . •

flavors:

✶ apple — fluff

like apples, this blurb will be soft and sweet!

✶ cherry — smut-ish

this blurb will have a little sultry spice!

✶ blackberry — angst

this blurb will leave a tart, sour taste in your mouth!

. • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . •

characters:

✶ steve harrington (all variants in the library)

✶ gator tillman

✶ rafe cameron

. • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . • ☆ . ° .• . • ☆ . ° .• °.

disclaimer: blurbs will be kept short (obviously). if you aren’t sure about your idea, please feel free to send me an ask before you send your donation.

i will close commissions when i’ve reached my limit lol. i will likely warn everyone before i’m closing so people don’t continue to send commission requests. please also feel free to donate without a commission if you feel so inclined.

i may also close commissions for brief periods of time so they don’t clump together and i can work on a few at a time, as to not get overwhelmed and make sure everyone’s blurbs are completed.

most of you know i’ve had trouble with getting work, and as we near the end of the year and i await calls from certain jobs, i’d like to not only get back into writing, but hopefully start recouping some funds.

thank you to anyone who participates, i love you!

. • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . •

✶ ko-fi ✶

✶ other autumn fics + blurbs ✶

✶ the library ✶

[seasons-of-death]

bsf!rafe waking up with morning wood

warnings: smut (mdni) maybe somnophilia if you squint i guess? morning wood, me trying something new bc i came up with this random blurb i might try out writing other blurbs like this??? so if you have any ideas or pairings you want me to write for pls lmk because as much as i love writing +2k word fics it's fun to rewind by writing shorter stuff too

wherever rafe went, you followed; and even though it annoyed some of his friends, they didn't dare to say anything about it to rafe, because the one time they did, he got so angry they thought they were getting their asses kicked.

everywhere, also happened to include his bed. it had started after you had accidentally passed out on his bed from how much you drank, and he didn't care if you were there or not, he was sleeping in his own bed. now, it had gotten to the point where you couldn't sleep without him, and vice versa.

but you weren't a couple, of course not. rafe wasn't one for relationships, and you were just his friend since childhood, and even if he fucked you into the mattress a couple of times per week, or the fact that he never allowed any other girl to be in his bed, or that he thought of you whenever he hooked up with someone, it was just friendship.

"come on, wake up pretty girl..." he mumbled into your shoulder as you started stirring awake, rafe holding up one of your thighs up slightly as his hand rubbed his hard cock against your panty-clad pussy.

"come on, rafe..." you mumbled sleepily, and the blonde pressed a small, warm kiss on your shoulder over the fabric of his t-shirt. "why'd you wake me up? can't you see that 'm tired..."

"princess.. i need you..."

"rafe, we already went three rounds yesterday..."

"please, baby..." rafe mumbled, pressing soft kisses to your neck, the action causing shivers to go down your spine, and you could feel your panties starting to get wet, sticking to your puffy folds. "i'll do anything... just need you so much right now..."

you looked at him with half-lidded eyes as he pressed lazy kisses on your neck, "anything?"

"anything for you, princess. including murder."

"will you buy me those vivienne westwood earrings i want?"

"hell, i'll get a matching necklace."

and that's how you ended up with your best friend on top of you, pounding into your already sore pussy from the night before, your face pressed against the sheet as you let out moans that got muffled by the pillow, a handful of your hair around his fist as you closed your eyes in pleasure, your fists gripping the sheets to try and anchor yourself as he spoke in a low tone with every thrust "such a good girl for me... you're mine... this pussy's all mine... no one's gonna fuck this pretty pussy like i do..."

yeah. just friendship.

[rafecameroninterlude]

can i request a [🍪] chocolate chip cookie, for “bed chem” by sabrina carpenter

₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦

pairing: soft!dom!rafe x kook!sweetheart!reader

summary: ❝how you talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things. that’s bed chem.❞ — rafe loves coming home to his girl.

warnings: sooo much dirty talk, lots of praise, grinding (?), unprotected sex, brief mention of reader having a size kink, multiple orgasms, love biting, yk rafe has to talk you through it ;)

word count: 1.0k

a/n: me realizing this is the first explicit piece i write with rafe and kook!sweetheart!reader :0 feel free to participate in this little poll if you want to!

“fuck, just look at you..” rafe had you laid out on your bed, his lips whispering sweet nothings against your skin. “so fucking beautiful, ‘always ready for me to take you when i get home.” he ran his large hands up your bare thighs, his cock stirring in his briefs. you took your bottom lip between your teeth, his rough palms a stark contrast to your soft flesh. “this is all i think about when we’re apart.” you gasped when he spread your legs open, his eyes darkening at the sight of your glossy folds. “you’re already wet just thinking about it, huh?” you nodded, meeting his lust filled gaze.

“you’re so passive with me, baby, i love that. ‘love when i walk in here and you give me those ‘fuck me’ eyes.” he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your jaw as his hand trailed down to where you needed him most. you couldn’t help the moan slipping past your lips when the pads of his fingers found your needy clit, all of his attention zeroing in on the way you melted into his touch. “coming home to you like this.. fuck this is all i’ll ever need.” you swore you could cum from his words alone. cupping his face, you pulled him down to meet your lips. like always, he tasted like a little bit of liquor with a hint of mint.

“please, rafe..” you weren’t exactly sure what you were begging for, but since rafe always called the shots, you let him decide where this was going to go. you watched as he took himself out of his boxers, a shaky breath emitting from your mouth. you could never get used to the mere sight of him, the size difference of you two making butterflies erupt in your tummy every single time. rafe laid down, pulling you on top of him as his cock sprang up against his stomach. “grind on me, pretty girl, you know how i like it.” his hands rested in the curves of your hips as you dragged your soaked cunt up and down the underside of his length.

rafe groaned, his head falling back against your pillows as your sensitive bundle of nerves glided on top of his cock with ease. “shit,” he said through gritted teeth, “you’re doing so good for me, doll face.” you whimpered, feeling empty while fighting the urge to sink onto him. “wanna feel you inside me, ray..” your nails dug into the skin of his toned chest, your boyfriend’s mouth falling open in a silent moan. “not yet, baby, let’s go slow, ‘promise i’ll be fucking you into oblivion very soon.” your cheeks heated, muttering a pathetic ‘okay..’ before continuing your ministrations.

rafe was in absolute awe watching the way you moved on top of him, those little sounds falling from your swollen lips as you panted and whined from not being filled up. you jolted with every swipe of your clit against the head of his cock. rafe knew how sensitive you were, how it never took much to have you making a mess on him in no time. that fact turned him on more than anything else he could think of. adjusting the grip he had on your hips, you let out a yelp when he started dragging you up and down his cock himself. “i want that pussy greedy and sucking me in when i flip you over.”

you shuddered, feeling the familiar heat start to boil until rafe brought it to the surface. rafe thought you looked the prettiest when you were cumming, your expression ingrained in his brain forever. “oh, my g- fuck, rafe!” he knew it was good when you cursed out loud, your body trembling and shaking as your high washed over you. rafe pulled you into his chest, peppering your face with kisses until you were nothing but jelly in his arms. without giving you any time to recover, rafe pushed your face into the pillows, snaking an arm underneath your waist before thrusting into you without warning.

thankfully your scream was muffled, your fingers digging into the sheets for dear life. rafe’s skin was flushed to your own, the weight of him on your back making you mewl. “so fucking tight, holy shit.” he kissed the spot behind your ear, his arms enveloping yours. you intertwined your fingers with his as he thrusted into you, stretching you so deliciously. you moaned, the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix made you clench around him. arching into his thrusts, he rested his head in the curve of your neck. “you’re so fucking perfect, ‘taking it so good.” rafe bit your earlobe, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.

you nearly lost it when he angled his hips, the thick head of his cock hitting the spot inside of you that made you see stars. “oh!” you gasped, your face contorting into one of pleasure. “i know baby, fuckin’ hell, i know.” he shuddered, feeling the start of his peak forming in his stomach. “gonna fill you up, ‘make you take every last drop..” he pressed a kiss between your shoulder blades before sitting up on his knees. adjusting your position so your ass was in the air, you lost all ability to form a single thought when he took your hands behind your back and plowed into you until you were crying out, begging for him to never stop.

when the band snapped, and rafe fell over the edge, he cursed against your skin, holding you still as your own orgasm hit you at the same time. he painted your walls with his cum, his hands never leaving yours. you loved squeezing around him, taking him for everything he had while his breath fanned against your skin. he stayed nestled inside you for a few minutes before pulling out with a hiss. you laid limp, your boyfriend pulling you close as he stroked the side of your face. wiping the stray tears from your cheeks, rafe admired your post-sex afterglow. “what are you thinking about?” he hummed, snapping you out of your daze.

“how you talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things.”

[starkeyisthelastname]

this picture is so dealer!rafe who flys all of his crew and their girls out of the country. he rents a house, the place filled with expensive bottles and exotic tree to smoke. you of course get the best of everything, meaning the best room, the best blunt rolled, and as much sex your pretty self wanted. the house gets a little wild, everyone taking pictures in the bathroom like this after a few shots and is a little stoned. You decided to skip out on the selfie as you were still recovering from the dick down you just had by the sexy man in the picture wearing the expensive gold chain. 😜

[rafecameronssl4t]

arranged marriage au reader where her postpartum depression is so bad. where she barley picks at her plate, and when the doctors check in on her , they scold her for not keeping healthy for the baby to feed off her. and it’s to the point where rafe has to leave a trip early bc it’s so bad

You know I'll come || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: incase you didn't read it before, make sure you read my important notice!!!

Warnings: ppd, angst, mention of fainting

Word count: 2,114

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“Y/n, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” James said with a sympathetic sigh, his gaze fixed on the monitor while you sat on the lounge, your eyes glazed over as you stared blankly at the coffee table. The room was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the monitor and the occasional rustle of Anita’s movements as she adjusted the blanket draped over your lap.

“This is the third time you’ve passed out this week. You were lucky Anita was there to catch you before you could have seriously injured yourself.” James exchanged a concerned look with Anita, who stood close by with a worried expression. The gentle, almost maternal way Anita fussed over you spoke volumes about her deep concern.

“You must eat. Your body needs proper nourishment, not just for yourself but for Leo as well.” At the mention of your son, your eyes flickered up from the table, the name ‘Leo’ momentarily pulling you from your daze. “Where is he?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper as you attempted to sit up, only to be gently restrained by James.

“Leo is asleep,” Anita said softly, her tone soothing. She moved closer, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder as if to offer reassurance. James continued, his voice gentle but insistent, “Rafe has been informed of your condition and has decided to come home early. He’ll be arriving tomorrow morning.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, the confusion evident on your face. “Rafe isn’t supposed to be here until Friday,” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief as you tried to process the unexpected news. “Rafe is aware of how unwell you are right now. He deemed it necessary to return home early,” James explained, his tone gentle but firm.

Your mouth parted in a silent response, the weight of the news settling heavily on your shoulders. James continued gently, “But for now, you should rest. Take these, they’ll help you sleep.” He extended a small container of medicine towards you. With a grateful nod, you accepted the tablets, feeling their cool, smooth surface against your fingertips.

You placed them in your mouth and swallowed, the slight bitterness leaving a fleeting aftertaste. As the medicine began to take effect, James and Anita exchanged a look of quiet concern. The room felt heavy with the unspoken tension of your fragile state, and the soft rustling of the blanket seemed to amplify the stillness. You leaned back, letting the exhaustion overtake you, the weight of the day’s events and Rafe’s imminent arrival already beginning to blur into the dim haze of impending sleep.

~

"Mr. Cameron, there’s news from Mr. Berkeley concerning your wife," Kate’s voice broke the quiet atmosphere of the plane as she approached Rafe, her iPad in hand. She hesitated for a moment, gauging his mood, knowing that any news related to you could quickly shift his temper. Rafe looked up from his laptop, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly, already bracing for the worst.

"What’s happened now?" His tone was clipped, the edge in his voice betraying the unease that simmered beneath his composed exterior. Kate took a breath, her fingers gripping the iPad a little tighter. "Mrs. Cameron fainted for the third time this week while walking down the stairs—" Before she could finish, Rafe’s expression darkened, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Is she injured? Is Leo okay?" His words, though direct, held an unmistakable undertone of worry that he barely managed to suppress. Kate glanced up from her iPad, her eyes meeting his with cautious reassurance. "No, sir. Y/n isn’t injured, and Leo wasn’t with her at the time." A small, almost imperceptible sigh escaped Rafe as he leaned back in his seat, his hand moving to rub his temples.

The initial wave of panic subsided, but the underlying concern remained, gnawing at him. He closed his laptop with a resounding thud, the noise loud in the otherwise still cabin. "And this is because she isn’t eating well?" he asked, his voice flat but laced with frustration. "Yes, sir. Mr. Berkeley mentioned that Y/n has been struggling to finish her meals," Kate explained, her tone professional yet careful, aware of how delicate the situation had become.

Rafe scoffed, shaking his head in exasperation. "Of course she is," he muttered under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He stood abruptly, the tension in his body clear as his jaw tightened, hands flexing at his sides. The weight of responsibility, of having to constantly manage his wife’s well-being, pressed down on him. The sound of the plane’s engine hummed softly in the background, creating a quiet that felt too heavy, too filled with thoughts he didn’t want to dwell on.

His thoughts raced, caught between his commitments and the deepening worry that had taken root. Rafe’s decision was swift. "Tell Anthony to turn this plane around. We’re going back to Kildare." Kate blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sharpness of his command. "But, sir—" she began, her voice hesitant. "Did you not hear what I said?" Rafe snapped, his tone cold and commanding now. His patience, already thin, was gone. "Tell him to turn this plane around. Now." His blue eyes, usually so controlled, flashed with intensity as he stared her down.

Kate swallowed hard, nodding quickly before turning on her heel and making her way to the cockpit without another word. The weight of his anger, his concern for you, and the complicated web of their marriage hung in the air even after she left. Rafe stood there for a moment, alone in the silence. His fists clenched as he stared out the window at the endless expanse of sky, his mind already filled with thoughts of what awaited him back home.

~

"Where is she?" Rafe's voice echoed sharply through the grand foyer as he shrugged off his blazer, his tone tense but controlled. Anita, always efficient and poised, was quick to take his suitcase from his hand. "She’s currently asleep on the sofa. Mr. Berkeley just left a couple of minutes ago," Anita informed him, her voice soft, trying to keep the atmosphere calm.

Rafe nodded, his expression tight as they walked deeper into the house, the weight of the past week’s events evident in his stride. "How is she?" he asked, his voice dropping to a quieter, almost hesitant tone. His usual composure was cracking, revealing the concern he so rarely let show. Anita glanced up at him, catching the rare flicker of vulnerability in his face.

A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips, sensing the subtle change in his demeanor. "She’s doing better. She ate a full meal last night and this morning," she replied, her words laced with reassurance. Rafe’s shoulders visibly relaxed at the news, though only slightly. "Good," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

As they reached the living room, the soft flicker of the TV caught his attention. The sound of cartoon characters filled the room, a stark contrast to the heavy emotions swirling inside him. Rounding the corner of the sofa, his eyes landed on you—fast asleep, curled up with the blanket tucked around you. Your exhaustion was evident, your face peaceful but pale.

However, Leo was wide awake, his small hands reaching out as he lay nestled beside you. Rafe's heart softened at the sight of his son, so innocent and oblivious to the storm brewing around him. Gently, Rafe scooped Leo up into his arms, cradling him with a tenderness that few ever saw. He pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek, the gesture instinctive, as if grounding himself in the quiet moment.

Without a word, he turned off the TV, silencing the cartoons as the room fell into a soft hush. For a moment, Rafe stood there, holding Leo, his eyes drifting back to you, wondering how things had reached this point—his life so far from what he’d imagined, and yet, here he was, tethered to this quiet moment with you and Leo, torn between frustration, duty, and something he wasn’t ready to admit.

Rafe gently pulled the blanket further up your body, his fingers brushing the soft fabric as he ensured you were as comfortable as possible. For a moment, he lingered, his gaze softening as he watched you sleep, the rise and fall of your chest steady and peaceful. There was a quiet vulnerability about you now that tugged at something deep inside him—a feeling he didn’t often allow himself to dwell on.

With a quiet sigh, he turned away, careful not to wake you. As he walked toward the door, he called out, “Anita?” Anita appeared almost instantly, her usual calm and attentive presence filling the room. “Yes, Mr. Cameron?” she asked, her voice respectful but warm. “Have the chef prepare Y/n’s favourite meals,” he instructed, his tone firm yet carrying an unspoken urgency. “I want her to be eating properly, no excuses.”

His gaze flicked back to you for a second, as though making sure you were still resting soundly. Anita nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. “Of course, sir. I’ll take care of it immediately.” Satisfied, Rafe adjusted Leo in his arms, holding him close as he glanced back at you one last time before stepping out of the room. “Leo and I will be outside by the pool,” he added, his voice a little quieter now, as if the tension from earlier had begun to ebb slightly.

Anita nodded again, watching as Rafe walked away, his steps quiet and measured, the sound of Leo’s soft babbling accompanying him as they made their way toward the open terrace. There, Rafe hoped the fresh air and the familiar comfort of home might bring him some clarity as he processed everything—his thoughts still tethered to you even as he tried to focus on his son.

~

Feeling a gentle hand on his shoulder, Rafe looked up, surprised to see you standing beside him. The colour had returned to your cheeks, and there was a small but genuine smile on your face. For a brief moment, relief softened his usually guarded expression. “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly, careful not to disturb Leo, who was napping peacefully on his chest.

You offered him another soft smile, walking around to sit on the lounge chair beside him. Your eyes lingered on the still waters of the pool, the calm reflection contrasting with the heaviness in the air. “I’m fine,” you replied, though your gaze remained fixed ahead. Rafe’s eyes stayed on you, his expression stern, not easily convinced by your words. “Did you eat?”

His tone was sharp, but there was an undercurrent of concern that you couldn’t ignore. You nodded slowly, though the hesitation in your movement gave away the effort it took. “I’m sorry you had to cut your trip short—” you began, wanting to apologise for the disruption, but Rafe quickly cut you off. “Don’t.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for further apologies.

He pressed a light kiss to the top of Leo’s head, his eyes briefly softening as he did so. “There’s no excuse for you to not eat,” he continued, his voice hardening again, as though the frustration he’d been holding back was finally spilling out. You looked at him, studying his side profile as he avoided your gaze.

His jaw was clenched, tension radiating from him, but it wasn’t the anger that struck you—it was the concern buried beneath it. You knew this dynamic between you, this mixture of obligation and care, was a complicated dance neither of you had perfected. Your fingers absentmindedly twisted the ring on your finger, a physical reminder of the ties that bound you both. “At least Leo is doing okay,” Rafe muttered, his voice softening as he made eye contact with you.

“That’s all that matters.” But the moment the words left his lips, he saw the shift in your expression. There was something in your eyes—an unspoken sadness, a flicker of something deeper that you kept buried. You swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in your throat. “Of course,” you replied, your voice steady despite the weight in your chest. You stood up slowly, your body feeling heavier than it had a moment ago.

“I’ll head back inside,” you murmured, already turning to leave. Rafe watched you move, the silence between you thick and uncomfortable. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. Instead, he refocused on Leo’s sleeping form, his hand gently cradling his son’s small body as the feeling of missed opportunity settled heavily around him.

[littlelamy]

date night: ferrariracer!rafe x wag!reader

the roar of the crowd still lingers in the air, that wild energy from the race clinging to you like electricity. rafe’s victory for ferrari had the whole world watching, but right now, none of that matters. he’s got his eyes on you as he steps out of the car, sweaty, disheveled, and utterly victorious. his race suit is unzipped, clinging to his hips, and there’s a cocky grin plastered across his face as he spots you leaning against your black porsche parked in the shadows.

you can’t help but smile back, a rush of heat spreading through your body as you see the way he’s looking at you. like you’re his prize at the end of the night. like nothing else matters. your dress hugs you in all the right places, and you know exactly what you’re doing when you flash him that teasing grin. his blue eyes darken, flickering over you, and you know you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

he strides over, helmet tucked under his arm, eyes never leaving yours. “you waiting for me, baby?” he asks, voice low and full of heat.

you step toward him, your fingers tracing the edge of his suit. “always,” you murmur, leaning in close enough that your lips brush his ear. “that win… that was for me, right?”

rafe chuckles, deep and husky, and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in until there’s no space between you. “every single lap.” his lips graze your neck, just enough to make you shiver.

the car ride is quick, but every second feels electric. rafe drives fast, one hand on the wheel, the other resting high on your thigh, fingers teasing your bare skin under your dress. he’s pushing it, testing you with every squeeze, every slow drag of his thumb against your leg. you can feel the tension between you two thickening with every mile, every glance he shoots your way, the kind that leaves your pulse racing as fast as his car.

he pulls up to the restaurant, and you know he picked this place on purpose. no one will bother you here. it’s tucked away, intimate. inside, you slide into the booth, rafe sitting close, so close that his knee presses against yours under the table. his hand, warm and rough, slides along your thigh again, this time more deliberate. you try to focus on the menu, but it’s useless with his fingers inching higher, teasingly close to where you want him.

you shift in your seat, trying to play it cool, but the way rafe’s smirking at you tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. “something wrong, princess?” he asks, his voice low, almost a purr. “you seem a little… distracted.”

you shoot him a glare, but it’s weak, your pulse racing too fast to hold it. “you’re pushing your luck, cameron,” you warn, even as your legs part slightly, giving him more access.

he grins, leaning in closer until his breath is warm against your neck. “you love it when i push,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing a slow line up your thigh, stopping just short of where you need him most.

dinner drags on, every bite, every sip of wine filled with tension. you feel the heat between you two crackling in the air, your skin tingling with anticipation. rafe’s touches are subtle but constant, his hand never leaving your thigh, fingers sometimes drifting higher, other times pulling away just when you want more. it’s like a game, and you’re both all in.

by the time the check comes, you’re practically buzzing. the ride back to the hotel is a blur, and the second you’re inside the room, rafe’s hands are on you, pulling you close, lips crashing into yours like he can’t stand another second apart. his kiss is rough, desperate, and it makes your knees weak.

you stumble backward, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him down with you onto the bed. “you look so good in that dress,” he mutters against your lips, his hands already working the zipper down your back, “but you’ll look even better out of it.”

“so get me out of it,” you challenge, breathless, tugging at his race suit, wanting him just as desperately.

he chuckles darkly, his hands slipping the dress from your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a pool of fabric. “all mine,” he growls, eyes dark as they rake over your now bare skin. “you know that, right?”

you nod, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his suit, needing to feel him, all of him. “yours,” you whisper, your voice a soft breath, “all yours.”

rafe doesn’t waste any more time, stripping down and pinning you beneath him, his body pressing against yours, skin on skin. the heat between you is electric, every touch sending sparks through your veins.

taglist (if you want to be added comment below): princessslutt averyoceanblvd iknowthatsrightbih starkeysprincess sixrosberg anamiad00msday wniekitty

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: a really long chapter part thing i fear . kisses .. maybe .. IM NOT SPOILING THIS

prev next

authors note: erm guys .. if im rushing this then do NOT pay attention !! I WANT THEM TO BE OKAY AGAIN JUST LIKE U GUYS I FEAR. I CANT HELP MYSELF. but do NOT think this is the end because this is NOT!! we still have to get through the rest of the second week + the wedding. and if u think about it, DAMN a lot happened in week 1 omg goodnight

anyway, if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3333

you keep your distance from him the next two days. you know you have to face him, and sometimes you do, but you’re stiffer than before. he knows better than anyone to maintain that gap until you’re okay again.

it just feels like your breakup with him all over again, but this time, for a different reason other than having too much time apart. this time, you’re all he spends time with but there just happens to be something getting in the way of that. another girl. it isn’t fair.

drew’s been trying to show in little ways that he’s sorry, but it doesn’t cut it for you. not yet. and you don’t want to lead him by a string and take advantage of him caring about you. but him bringing you breakfast, then trying to avoid you throughout the day until you’re back in libby’s bed again—it’s just frustrating.

you don’t even want to be there anymore. you don’t want to have to deal with this. but it’s for leila and theo, their day is coming up soon. you just want them to have a good time and then you can all separate ways and live your own lives again. how it’s always been and how it should be.

the guys are getting ready to visit town while the girls stay back. this isn’t for you though, and you’re grateful. gia proposed a self-care day after a package was shipped to the home, a large box of cookies, and safe to say you all agreed to the plan.

“i’ve been trying to get back into reading but i feel like i have no time sometimes,” leila’s telling you and the girls as you set up shop at the kitchen island.

there’s an array of face masks, moisturizers, rollers, oils, creams, other things they’ve wanted to try. gia even brings her diffuser and places it nearby as the tv in the living room plays.

“i recommend ‘doomsday’!” libby perks up from across the table. “i read it last summer and let me tell you, i bawled crying for a month straight.”

“y/n, you read,” leila says as she files her nails, crossing a leg over another. “what are your recommendations?”

“hey,” theo greets leila as he and the boys join you four at the table, each with their respective girlfriend besides libby and oscar, and technically you and drew. he hovers behind you but just merely nods his head to say hello. “we’re gonna head out.”

“oh, okay,” leila says with a small frown, but kisses him goodbye. “drive safe, alright?” you’re winking at roman who points at you to say to behave, but he kisses gia’s cheek before he’s following theo out.

you answer leila from earlier with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting to find ‘the last love letter’ but i haven’t really been reading lately. been too busy.”

gia mouth gapes open as she slams her hand on the table, nearly knocking something over. “shut up, i’ve been wanting to read that too!” she shrieks as libby tells her to be more careful.

you can only giggle at her while she gets off her seat and comes up behind you to pull your hair and tie it back.

“that book is literally nowhere, i swear the author only made like five copies of it.”

“have you guys read ‘self sabotage’?” leila asks as she and libby, already prepared, begin to place their face masks on.

you’re on the couch with the girls as libby records you on her phone. the box of cookies are opened and after careful review, you’ve all decided what to try first and what comes after that, and so on.

“now?” you ask libby if she’s ready, and she nods. you, leila, and gia take a cautious bite out of the pieces you’ve broken off of the first cookie. it only takes you a few chews in to realize how heavenly it is. gia even pretends to faint beside you.

“holy shit,” leila says as she covers her mouth, taking a look at the cookie with wide eyes. “are you serious?”

libby lunges at you with her phone to take it from her, “well now i wanna try it!”

you’re in a fit of laughter as you try to turn the camera around before she can sink her teeth in, but she’s too fast. your eyes widen at the girl, “libby, slow down!”

and eventually, you’re full of cookies and half of them are still yet to be tried. you agree with the girls to continue this matter tomorrow if the boys don’t eat it all themselves, and you know they will. you’re just glad you’ve already tried all the ones you really wanted to before then.

when the guys get home, it’s exactly what you anticipated. they bee line directly to the cookies on the coffee table, but not without greeting you all first.

theo groans as he takes a bite, roman right beside him to stuff a whole chunk in his mouth. “this is better than sex,” he murmurs while roman snaps his fingers several times. leila can’t help but nod in agreement.

“i feel cookie-drunk,” you say with your hand on your stomach, and gia curls up into your side as she holds onto hers. “what’d you guys get?”

roman is quick to reach into his bag and pull out a couple of keychains, as if he just got reminded about something. he tosses one at gia’s head, and you look over to see what it is.

“the world’s okayest girlfriend,” she reads aloud, and she chucks it back at him, no longer accepting the gift that roman laughs about. she gets up to see what else is in his bag, leaving drew to plop down next to you and libby, who’s on the other side of you this whole time.

she’s cleaning the ice cream off her spoon when she speaks up for you and her, “what’d you get?”

“few things,” he says as he lets you look inside for yourself.

you pull out a long box and open it. it’s a chain bracelet, sterling silver. it’s nice, and you nod with raised brows. there’s other things inside that you only glance at, but when you look up at him you notice the new pair of sunglasses that’s resting on his head.

you pull it off of him silently and place it on yourself, unspokenly thanking him for the temporary gift you’ll give back later but you like them so now they’re yours for a few hours.

drew purses his lips and closes his bag, assuming you’re done, so he gets up and starts heading upstairs. you look over at libby. without hesitation, she asks, “you okay?”

you hesitate, and you know she’s only asking this because this is one of drew’s brief interactions with you since a few days ago. but you shrug it off, “yeah, i’m okay,” you say.

libby doesn’t miss a beat, she’s not convinced at all. she knows you well enough to understand what ‘im okay’ really means is ‘i’ll be okay’. that it’s not okay, but it will be eventually.

she’s seen this look on you before, during the hardest parts of your relationship with drew. she can feel the unspoken words between them, the ones you don’t even need to say out loud.

“right,” libby says with a soft sigh. she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. “you’ll be alright,” she whispers. you know she won’t pry further, but knowing that whatever drew did, it was enough to hurt you again.

after a few moments, she pulls back and, with a small smile, asks, “wanna help me with dinner soon? leila thought it’d be nice to eat out in the backyard tonight, by the pool.”

you hum softly, nodding your head, “yeah, that sounds good.”

libby grins, “awesome. ‘cause it’s pizza night and i cannot do it alone.”

the next few hours blur together. you’ve successfully prepared the pizzas with libby and slid them into the oven. now you’re cutting into them and displaying them outside on the table.

it used to be bare, but someone since morning has gone out there to help decorate the backyard to make it just a little flashier. there’s a cloth on the table, which is scattered with candles, flowers, dishes, platters of cookies, fruits, a charcuterie board, and there’s a helpful variety of drinks.

fairy lights blink across the backyard, even over the pool, and it illuminates the whole place. you place the different pizzas in between each candle piece, which libby lights as you do. when you call everyone outside, you join together at the table.

and once theo leads you once again with the ‘i’m grateful for my future wife’ shit, you get to dig in. you’re pretty sure it was longer this time around and even roman started to just eat until he was kicked under the table by drew.

“fucking finally,” libby murmurs under her breath after theo concludes his speech, to which causes him to pick up an olive off the plate and toss it at her. “yeah, you’re so lucky i like olives,” she whispers to herself as she rearranges her napkin, “fucking loser.”

“libby,” you scold, though you can’t hide your laugh. she’s grinning when she looks up, silently laughing with you.

when you turn to drew on the other side of you, he’s taking large bites from his slice. he tilts his head back with a groan, then takes a longer look at the pizza as he chews.

“s’it good?” you ask, and he nods rapidly, and soon his body moves with it. you bring yourself to smile, grateful that people you care about like what you’ve cooked.

you reach over to take your own slice from each pizza and just stack it on your plate, planning on going through them one by one from the one on too being the one you least want to eat, and the last at the bottom being the one you’re most excited for—a ‘save the best for last’ type of thing. it’s silly but you do it anyway.

drew’s finishing up his bite when he leans into you gently. “i have to talk to you later, by the way,” he says, and it sort of startles you because at this point you’re just talking to libby.

you look at him with furrowed brows, but again, you’re not mad. you’re not upset with him. at least not in this moment, you can’t be.

and it looks like he’s grateful because he can see it too. “if that’s alright with you,” he says, then takes another bite. you just nod at him in silence, and watch as he turns back to oscar who’s on his other side before talking to him.

you look straight ahead where roman’s sitting, and he sends you a look. he heard drew talking to you, he knows it must be about something important, but it’s not what’s on your mind right now.

you shrug it off. “—tell you later,” you mouth to him, then turn to libby when you realize she’s talking to you again.

after dinner, gia and leila clean dishes while literally all of the guys clean up outside as a thank you to you and libby, who lay across the living room with bellies filled with food.

there’s a movie playing on tv that you can barely pay attention to, but you’ve been laying there for about an hour so if you really want to, you could. you just play into the laziness that you’re allowed.

you hold your phone above you as libby rolls around the carpet, or at least that’s what you last saw her doing before you looked away. you’re scrolling through texts with your manager as if a new message will come in.

“did elyse get back to you?” libby asks, a face-full of carpet and it sounds like she’s just a few feet away. “about the thing.”

“no,” you mumble, then turn your phone off and set it face-down on the carpet, just like libby. the side of your head is laying on your arm as you look at her. “i could go for another cookie.”

“you ate three!” libby’s muffled voice raises.

“and i’ll make it four,” you tell her, raising your volume back. you consider getting up but don’t feel like it. you can actually lay here forever—maybe.

“y/n,” you hear his voice. it’s drew.

and you get up immediately. he was so softspoken, so cautious with you. he’s entering the house with the other boys who must’ve finished outside, meaning it’s time to have his talk. you almost ask if you guys can just have it there if it’s not that important, but if that’s possible then he wouldn’t be trying to get you alone.

you look over to libby, who—at the sound of drew’s voice—peeked her eyes out to see what he wanted. she looks to you, and she understands why you have to go. she convinces herself to get up and find the remote so she can turn the volume up.

you know it’s for you and drew, and a part of you wants to nudge her or be offended, and you do. is this going to be normal behavior in the house? turning up the volume just for you and drew when you guys need to have these ‘talks’ that are just screaming practice in disguise?

you’re almost embarrassed but you know that you’d rather have this than let them hear you two upstairs.

you follow him to your room, or technically his room as of three nights ago, and he lets you inside first. there’s a chilling feeling when you realize what’s about to happen and you feel like he’s literally about to murder you.

the room is clean, for the most part. you didn’t doubt for a second that he wouldn’t take care of this room regardless if you’re in it or not. his bed isn’t made and his backpack’s on the edge of it, opened and rifled through.

you look to him when you’ve entered, and he nods toward the bed, as if to say he would rather you sit there while you listen to what he has to say, so slowly, you make your way over and settle down on the edge.

drew pulls out a chair from the desk across the bed and turns it around, pushing it closer to you. you’re surprised that he’s doing a whole setup just to talk to you. maybe he really is going to kill you.

“i haven’t been honest at all . . . since we started talking again,” he begins as he sits down in front of you. you stay there and close your mouth. you want to hear what he has to say, even if it ends terribly. you need to hear what he’s been thinking. “so i’d like to tell you everything about this past year if you’re okay with that.”

you shrug and gesture to let him have the floor. “please,” you insist with a nod.

he sighs as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap. “there’s . . . mila," he starts, and even though you knew this conversation was coming, it still stings when you hear her name.

“i guess you could call it a situationship or whatever,” he says before he catches himself, realizing how that sounds. “i mean, to me, it felt like that. but i think—” he pauses, chewing on his words. “no, she definitely saw it as more. she always viewed it as a relationship.” he glances at you, watching for your reaction, but you just sit there, waiting.

he rubs a hand over his face, frustrated with himself. “we just weren’t on the same page. i was . . . i was using it to distract myself, if i’m being honest. and i know that’s not fair. i knew it even then. but it felt easier than than facing what i was actually feeling at the time.”

he continues, “i told myself it was nothing, but i knew, deep down, it wasn’t fair to her. she didn’t deserve to be strung along like that.”

you feel your chest tighten, but not from jealousy. it’s you knowing that someone else had been hurt in this too, someone who had clearly thought there was more between them. “does she know? about this?” you ask him.

he flinches slightly, as if the concern you’re showing for mila makes this even harder to explain for him. he hesitates, “i officially ended things with her three nights ago. the night you confronted me about her. i told her it was over, that i couldn’t keep pretending things were fine when they weren’t. she didn’t take it well. and honestly, i don’t blame her.”

you’re quiet for a moment—so he’s decided to keep you and him a secret from mila? to spare both his and her feelings? you aren’t sure if you should bring light to it or just push it aside. you did say before that it was ultimately his decision.

“i’m glad you told her,” you say carefully, but there's a pause before you add, "but i can’t imagine how confusing this must be for her.” you shift in your seat, rubbing your palms on your knees. “i mean, from her perspective, this whole thing must feel like it came out of nowhere.”

he swallows hard, nodding. “yeah, it wasn’t fair to her. not at all.”

there’s a beat. he looks at you, his expression more vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time. “i told her about you,” he says. he’s quiet, as if he’s afraid of the confession. “i told her that i’m . . . that i’m still not over you. that i don’t think i ever really was.”

what?

you blink, startled by his words, though in a way, you’re not entirely surprised. you’ve felt the tension between you two from the moment you started talking again, but hearing him admit it, finally saying it out loud . . .

his voice is rough, like he’s forcing himself to continue. “but that’s why things with mila were never real. not for me, at least. i kept telling myself i could move on, that i could just forget, but every day i’d realize i wasn’t. i couldn’t let go of you.”

“but you broke up with me, drew,” you remind him. “that doesn’t necessarily sound like you’re in love with me.”

“i didn’t break up with you because i didn’t love you,” he says, his brows furrowed. “i do, more than i’ve ever loved anyone else.” his eyes meet yours briefly before dropping to his hands, which he’s fiddling with in his lap. “like, it was the opposite. i felt like i wasn’t enough for you. like i was failing you.”

you feel your breath hitch in your throat, but you don’t interrupt. you sit up on the bed.

he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he speaks. “our jobs, the schedules, the distance . . . it was tearing us apart, you know? and every day, i’d think about how i wasn’t giving you what you deserved. we were supposed to click, supposed to last, but i felt like i was just holding you back.” his voice is quiet, and he rubs his forehead slowly. “and i couldn’t stand the thought of you waiting for me when i could never give you the time you needed. it was eating me alive.”

you stay quiet, but tears prick at the corners of your eyes. his words hit hard, and you feel like everything that was left unsaid was finally coming to light now—there were arguments that could’ve been avoided, the misunderstandings that built up. he was overthinking, spiraling, and instead of talking to you, he made the decision for both of you.

“and i just kept thinking, like . . . ‘she deserves someone who can be there for her, really be there. someone who can come home to her every night’. i wasn’t that guy. i’d go days without seeing you, weeks even, and it broke me.” he swallows hard again, shaking his head. “i convinced myself that you’d be happier with someone else. someone who wasn’t always on some stupid set, always busy.”

your heart aches as you watch him, his guilt written all over his face. you lean forward and whisper, “but you don’t get to decide that for me, drew. we make decisions together. or at least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.”

“i know,” he mutters, his tone regretful. “i know that now. but back then, i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought i was . . . protecting you, i guess. from me.”

you shake your head, wiping at the tears that are now falling freely. “protecting me from you? drew, i never, ever wanted anyone else. i wanted you. i didn’t care about the schedules, or the distance. i would’ve waited, and we could’ve figured it out. together.”

his eyes finally meet yours again, and for the first time, you can see the depth of his regret. “when we broke up, i tried. god, i tried to move on. i tried to find something, you know? but i was always looking for you.” he takes a shaky breath. “every girl i met, i’d compare them to you. i’d look for pieces of you in them, trying to find something familiar, something that felt right. but it never worked.”

you knew he had tried to move on, but hearing that he was always searching for you in others, that no one ever compared. it leaves you speechless for a moment. if that’s what happened, then why invest so much time into mila?

you finally gather the courage to ask, “mila. did she . . . was she like me?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but you need to know.

“no,” he admits, shaking his head. “not really. mila was cool, and she’s . . . she’s great in her own way. but no. she wasn’t like you.” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words. "but i remember i wanted her to be."

he didn’t try to replace you with mila, but it was clear that he had been searching for something, anything, to fill the void you left behind. and it never worked.

“no one’s ever going to compare to you, y/n,” he continues, “i realize that now. it took me a while, but i’ll always search for you in everyone, and it’s never going to be the same. it’ll never feel the way it felt with you."

for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re finally getting the truth. the real, unfiltered truth about why things ended the way they did. he wasn’t running because he didn’t care. he was running because he thought he wasn’t enough for you. and now, he’s sitting here, telling you everything he couldn’t say before.

“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper now, on the verge of crying. “i’m sorry for walking away. for not talking to you about it when i should’ve. i was scared. scared that i wasn’t enough for you, and scared that i never would be.”

you can feel the tears still lingering in your eyes, but there’s also a strange sense of closure. you’ve needed to hear this for so long, to understand why things fell apart the way they did. and now, you finally do.

“i messed up,” he says, “i messed up everything, and i know it. but i never stopped loving you and i’m . . . i’m still in love with you.”

you stay silent, blinking away the burn in your eyes, trying to absorb what he’s saying. part of you feels relief, but another part of you is cautious. you’ve been hurt before like this. by another and by him.

he watches you closely, and it feels like the longer the silence is, the more anxious he gets. “i know this doesn’t fix anything, and i’m not asking you to forgive me or take me back. i just needed to tell you the truth. i needed you to know that mila . . . ? mila was never you. no one is.”

the room feels too small suddenly, too full of emotions that you don’t know what to do with. you take a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts, but all you can manage to say is, “why now, drew? why are you telling me this now?”

his gaze softens, “because i didn’t want to lose you again. not without you knowing the truth.”

you can only look down at your lap. your vision blurs as you try to focus on your fingers, interlocked and tense in your lap, the pressure in your chest is tightening by the second.

you don’t trust yourself to speak just yet, so you hold everything in, to find the right words, but nothing comes out.

when you finally lift your head to look at him, the tears are already pooling in your eyes. you blink rapidly, trying to keep them from spilling over, but it’s useless. without saying anything, he stands up and pulls you into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame.

you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as your face presses into his chest, and it’s like the dam inside you finally breaks. the tears fall freely now, your body shaking as you cling to him, feeling the warmth of his arms around you—something you’ve missed so desperately.

and it’s not just about the last few days. it’s about the past year of missing him, of pretending you were okay when you weren’t. and you can tell drew needed this too. you can feel it in the way his grip tightens, like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to hold together everything that’s broken between you both.

you stay like that for a long time, the sound of your quiet sobs muffled by his chest, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your back as if to soothe the ache inside you. it’s a comfort you haven’t felt in so long, and it is exactly what you’ve needed.

toward the end of it, your face still pressed against his chest, you mumble something, your words half muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he loosens his hold just a little, enough for you to pull back slightly, just enough to breathe. “i . . .” you take a shaky breath, your hands still gripping his arms, and when you finally meet his eyes again, you whisper, “i never stopped loving you either.”

the words hang between you, raw and honest, and as soon as you say them, you see the way his expression softens, like it’s the only thing he’s been waiting to hear.

his lips crash into yours, urgent and insistent. his fingers tighten against the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. his lips coax yours open, deepening the kiss, and he swallows the whimper that escapes you.

his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on the bed. he kisses you like he's been starved of you, his tongue swirling against yours, his hands exploring every inch of your face, your neck, your hair. this is what he’s been waiting to do.

his hands trail down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and he breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “stay with me tonight?”

you can’t get enough of him, and although you know that everything can’t be completely fixed over just one conversation, sleeping and waking up in the same bed as him isn’t hurting anyone.

you nod, a soft smile on your face that causes him to grin. but he pulls away slowly hesitating for a moment, his smile growing a little wider as he reaches past you into his backpack, his fingers rummaging around as if he’s searching for something precious.

you watch him, curiosity bubbling inside you. what could he possibly have?

“hold on,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and filled with warmth, and you smile as you press another kiss to his.

finally, he pulls out a book, holding it out toward you with a look of pure joy on his face. you take a look at it but almost don’t even catch it the first time until a second later. your heart skips a beat as you recognize it—the last love letter.

“shut up,” you say, taking it into your own hands to see if it’s real. and of course it is.

he nods, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “i heard you talking about it with the girls before we left earlier,” he explains, but he knows you can tell already that much. there’s a goofy look on his face as he wipes underneath one of his eyes. “i knew how much you wanted it and i saw a copy in town, so . . .”

“no, shut up. i can’t take this,” you exclaim, feeling tears welling in your eyes. “star.” the words spill out, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. it’s not just the gift; it’s the thought behind it that strikes a chord deep within you. you trace the cover with your fingertips as if it’s a treasured artifact.

he watches you intently. “i wanted to,” he assures you. “i heard it, i thought it would mean something to you.”

your gaze shifts from the book to him. “thank you, it does,” you whisper, your voice shaking as you blink out a few more tears.

you set the book aside momentarily, throwing your arms around him once again. the embrace feels like a lifeline. you hold him tightly, your heart racing as you bury your face against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent.

he wraps his arms around you, holding you just as tightly, as if he’s afraid to let go. the world outside fades away, and in this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, a bubble of intimacy where everything feels right again.

after a long pause, as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, you can see the softness in his eyes. “you really didn’t have to do this,” you say again, looking down at the brand new book. “but it means the world to me that you did.”

he grins, “i know it’s just a book, but i wanted to show you that i’m here—like, really here this time.” and you are so glad he is.

“i missed this,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he closes his eyes for a moment, and you continue to explore the pages of the book, though your thoughts keep drifting back to him. aw you run your fingers through his hair, it dawns on you how much you've missed this—this connection, this easy banter, the comfort of being together.

“i missed us,” you finally admit, looking into his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right again. it all floods back to you.

he shifts slightly, leaning in closer, and his arms slide to wrap around your waist as he lays his head on your shoulder to take a look at your book with you, his voice in relief as he mumbles, “me too.”

and you’re happy, it all just feels like your dream again.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @cl4uus @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy @darkreymbow @congratsloserr @skyslowalking @behindviolettwrites @allthoughtsmindfull @lovelylupin04 @ecstqzy @dasguccier

[starkeysprincess]

Late Night Needs

pairing: perv!bsf!rafe cameron x oblivious!reader

summary: your best friend, rafe, calls you one night to talk, or so you think.

warnings: male masturbation, smut 18+ only, perv bsf rafe, oblivious/unaware reader, sexual themes

a/n: ty to my faves @oceandriveab for proof reading hehe and @babygorewhore for helping me w the title MWAH

gif creds: @tetragonia

It was currently two in the morning when you woke up to the sound of your phone going off. You grabbed your phone, squinting as you looked to see several missed calls from your best friend, Rafe.

Just as you were about to call him back, your phone rang again. "Rafe?" you mutter as you answer the call but all you can hear is heavy breathing. "Hello?" you call out again and there's a small pause, "Yeah, 's me" his voice is low, "I've been trying to reach you all damn night".

"It's two in the morning" you groan, your eyes can barely stay open. "Just wanted to talk to my best friend, 's all" he breathes heavily, "Hold on, let me facetime you".

Before you can say anything, he switches the call to a facetime call, which of course, you accept it. As soon as he appears on the screen of your phone, you take notice that he was in his bed, sitting up against his headboard. He held his phone at an angle that showed his face and down to gist shirtless chest. “Why are you up?” was the first thing you asked, which made him chuckle, “Can’t talk to my best friend?”.

You give him a look, “At two in the morning?”. He shrugs, “Couldn’t sleep”. There was a pause and you could’ve sworn you heard the faint sound of heavy breathing but brushed it off, “Just got somethin’ on my mind” he added.

His comment makes you sit up in your bed and reach over to turn your bedside lamp on. As soon as you turned on the lamp, the light illuminated your features, causing Rafe to let out a small groan, one that you didn’t hear.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the FaceTime call, Rafe’s room was filled with the wet sounds of his hand stroking himself as he talked to you. His breathing was heavy and he was more than thankful at how oblivious you are.

For as long as Rafe has known you, he always knew you were an oblivious little thing. You never knew what was going on around you. It honestly turned him on even more knowing that you had no clue what he was doing on the other side of the FaceTime call.

"Wanna talk about what's on your mind?" you question, "No, ‘m fine. Just talk, wanna hear you talk" Rafe grunts, "You always make me feel better". You eagerly nodded because you would do anything to make him feel better. He was your best friend, after all.

He wasn’t really paying attention to exactly what you were saying, his mind is too focused on imagining how you’d sound under him as he moves his hand faster on his length and god, he just knew you’d make the prettiest fucking sounds for him.

As much as he loved listening to your voice and seeing your pretty little face on his screen, he desperately needed more. He needed to feel closer to you, almost as if you were with him in his bed.

Luckily, for Rafe, he knew just exactly how he can somewhat get the feeling of you wrapped around him.

He stopped for a second, unwrapping his hand from around himself before reaching into his pillowcase, pulling out a pair of your panties that he had stolen from the last time he was in your room. Sure, it wasn't anywhere near being what your cunt would feel like but it was the closest he could get to.

He wraps your panties around the base of his cock and starts stroking himself again. "Fuck" he groans, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. "Everything okay?" your voice rings through his ears, "Mhm, everything's good" he mutters, "So fuckin' good".

"What are you doing?" you ask curiously, still unaware of what he's really doing. "Just takin' care of something, nothing your pretty little head should worry about" he grunts, his hand moving faster as he opens his eyes to look at you while you were too busy paying attention to god knows what.

He bites his lip as he roughly fists his length up and down. The feeling of your panties wrapped around his cock, your voice, and the sight of you was all starting to get to him and he can feel himself getting close.

"Look at me" Rafe commanded with heavy-lidded eyes, his hand never slowing down. You stopped what you were doing and looked into the camera. "Oh fuck" he grunted as he reaches his orgasm, spurts of his cum covering your panties that he had wrapped around him.

"Are you sure you're okay, Rafe?" you question with concern, only to receive a smirk from him, "Never felt better" he mutters as he stares at your panties covered in his cum.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

nah cause all i can think abt it rafe being an absolute DICKHEAD to everyone but you. like he 180 changes when ur around and it completely baffles everyone.

OOOOH yes. everyone tellin you “he’s a dickhead, I don’t get why you’re with him.” And youre like “wdym? he’s the sweetest boy ever.” because you nd him and literally like this everyday

his friends hate it sm. I imagine it would go something like this

🪷 ꪆৎ 🕊️‧₊˚♡︎

Everywhere Rafe went, you followed. His friends never had the balls to say anything and just let it happen.

At parties, he was drinking and leaning in his chair, talking to Barry, who currently smoked a joint. A man sat in front of them, offering them an amount of money for the gold from the cross.

Rafe shook his head at the offer.

“That all?” Rafe asked him, unamused.

“I mean,” the dude scoffed. “How much would you take for it?”

“This bar is at least 5 grand. If you don’t got the money, fuckin’ stop wasting my time.”

“How is that five grand?”

Rafe rolled his eyes, irritated as he shut the case the gold was kept it. “Yo, what the fuck did I just say? Stop wasting my time. Get the fuck out.” He nodded, the man scoffing and shaking his head, standing up and walking away.

Rafe seemed irritated, his eyebrows furrowed and his face rested in an annoyed expression. That was until he glanced up and saw you walking towards him.

The man that had tried to buy the gold pushed past you, making you furrow your eyebrows at his rudeness.

Rafe had seen it, his irritation and anger bubbling once again. You just shrugged it off as you continued your stride to your boyfriend.

And he saw your bubbly demeanor, bouncing around happily as you walked towards him with the sweetest smile. He melted, the corners of his lips twisting up to form a smile. You fell into his lap, clearly drunk as you slurred out his name happily, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“Hey, baby.” He mumbled softly and quietly, hands rubbing circles on your legs.

Barry raised his eyebrows at Rafe, Rafe motioning for him to leave, his old glare back before he turned his attention back to you.

“You tired?” He asked you quietly.

“Yeah. Wanna go home, Rafey.” You whined and complained. And with anyone else, the nickname would have had someone 6 feet under.

“Alright. We’ll go home. Lemme just clean up here, Kay’?” He patted your ass softly, gently getting you off his lap.

“‘Kay.” You mumbled tiredly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and waiting, but before he could even turn around to you, you were fast asleep on the couch.

He sighed, shaking his head and smiling again to himself.