caprisunzz

[caprisunzz]

after your everything shower

rafe absolutely loved when you took everything showers, every sunday night without fail he would sit on the bed and watch you in the bathroom.

watching as you put your hair up in a clip after putting some fancy hair mask in it, you shaking your legs precisely, smiling at the way your tongue pokes out between your lips as you concentrate.

he silently pats his lap when you come out, skin lathered in a sweet moisturiser that matches your body lotion with your hair freshly blowdried.

you climb onto his lap and straddle his thighs, letting out a soft sigh as you lean against him, the labours of your self care making you sleepy.

as rafe gently rubs your back, he presses soft kisses down your freshly exfoliated arms, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles as he holds your arm out,

“i love when you’re all sleepy and fresh…” he groans, burying his face in your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly and pulling you into him. “such a pretty, sweet smelling girl…” he hums, running his hand over your soft hair.

his hands trail down your thighs and his lips curve into a small smirk when he feels your body getting heavier against him.

“you falling asleep already?” he teases you, tilting his head to look at you and poking your cheek gently. you hum in response and bury your face into his neck.

rafe’s hand slips under your pyjama shirt and rubs your bare back, enjoying the feeling of you all soft and sleepy against him, the weight of your relaxed body on his giving him a small sense of comfort.

“did you shave everywhere?” he queries with a soft smile, his firm hand continuing to rub soothing patterns along your skin.

“yeah…” you hum, shifting into a comfier position before settling again. rafe kisses your neck softly, his breath fanning over your perfumed skin.

“i would say let me see but you look to cozy… i’ll just wait until tomorrow…” he tells you as you look up at him, squinting your eyes.

“the rafe cameron being patient? are you feeling okay?” you mock, your hand coming up to rest on his forehead as if checking his temperature.

“shut up…” he scoffs and moves your hand away from his face, his hand gently against yours.

~ for more of my work, request a fic or browse my masterlist ~

© ⊱angelluvsrafe

[caprisunzz]

“incoming.” bucky barnes.

summary: after two years of you talking into his ear, bucky meets the face behind the voice on the comms after a tricky mission.

pairing: tfatws!bucky barnes x fem!reader

insp by: an instagram reel from an art account that drew bucky on the phone with someone screaming at him…….. guys trust me my brain was thinking big things… also inspired by the goat penelope garcia!!!!!

word count: 10.1k… wowza… read at your own risk

content warnings: usual description of violence (blood and punching and stuff), being trapped under rubble, swearing, mentions of dying death and murder, very slightly suggestive content, explosions, guns and shooting

a/n: my first bucky fic!!!! for @opheliabbarnes since you got me hooked into bucky with all of your bucky propaganda and also becuade you cheated in my poll and used your bucky powers to make me write this. also guys for the sake of the book just imagine that bucky is working with sam and doesn’t divorce him

"comms are live. hello, can you hear me?"

a pause.

there's a static crackling that rings through your headset before bucky's voice comes in, low and gruff, "yeah, unfortunately."

"good morning to you too, barnes." you smirk as you lean back in your chair, the screens in front of you flickering to life one-by-one. "it's nice to hear that your sunshine and optimism lived to see another day."

"play nice, you two." sam warns, "we haven't even gotten inside."

"i am playing nice." you retort, "that was me being sweet."

"define sweet..." bucky grumbles. you're not sure whether he's forgotten you can hear everything he's saying or if he's doing it just to spite you— but you let it slide.

you glance over to a screen where you can see joaquin's boots— and only his boots— thanks to his poorly angled body cam. it's shaking like he's struggling with something.

"joaquin, you there? i think your mic's off."

"yeah, he's here. he just can't figure out his ear piece." sam sighs. you watch him step into joaquin's screen and grab something from his hands, "you just have to click the button, man. it's not that hard—"

there's an awful screeching noise that pulses through your headset. it sounds like someone had just murdered a sentient robot and then fed its screams through a megaphone.

you pull it off in a hurry, waiting until it goes silent, and then place it back onto your headset with a huff. "everybody just... stop touching things."

another screen immediately catches your eye. blotches of red and orange pop out amongst a deep blue background— heat signatures patrolling the perimeter of the building that sam, bucky, and joaquin are in. you watch as a handful of them enter the warehouse.

"we've got movement." you still up in your chair, zooming in as the thermal overlay focuses, "there's about four patrolling the west perimeter. there's five— no— seven of them have just entered through the east side of the first floor."

sam peaks around the corner, but he can't see much unless he wants to compromise their position. he pulls back, "super soldiers?"

"i can't tell. they move like it, but nothing’s confirmed." you narrow your eyes. your eyes flicker to a smaller screen and a controller that sits beside it, "i'm sending scout. incoming!"

from somewhere in the sky, a grey blur cuts across the roof of the warehouse. bucky rolls his eyes as he watches it zoom past.

on your screen, scout's POV snaps into focus— clear, high-res, infrared, and absolutely glorious. it’s practically your child. you guide the bot with a simple flick of your wrist.

a small drone no bigger than a tennis ball and stamped with a white 'S' on its side zips through the air like a wasp on a mission. it's virtually silent, zipping low as it peaks around the corner of the east wall.

"okay, they aren't armed, but—" you pause as you rotate scout, "wait, there's a truck pulling up on the east loading dock."

sam furrows his brows. they didn't plan for anything other than a simple surveillance and a couple catch and arrests. "can you see what's inside?"

you turn to another screen— a thermal drone that's zoomed into the truck. "one driver and one passenger. there's a few crates in the back, but i can't see what's in them. they must have some sort of cooling system because they're freezing."

joaquin glances between sam and bucky, "that has to be the serum, right?"

"this must be one of the meeting points for their buyers." sam says, "they're gonna be here any second."

"don't worry. i've got eyes on them." you cut in, fingers flicking across your keyboard as another feed pops up, "i'm guessing it's the four black range rovers approaching from the south along franklin street."

there's a pause, then bucky asks, "what's our game plan?"

he's not looking at sam or joaquin. he hasn't moved a muscle. his voice is low and steady, his eyes fixed straight ahead— like he's waiting for your voice to tell him what to do next.

and you don't hesitate.

"we need to seperate them from the buyers. if this is an exchange, they're going to have bodyguards. we can't have thirty armed criminals in one warehouse. can you handle that, torres?"

joaquin nods, "loud and clear."

without another word, he takes a running step off of the warehouse's broken wall. his wings snap out from his jet pack with a hiss, catching the wind as he flies south along franklin street. you watch his tracker blip across another screen, already zeroing in on the buyers.

"and you two have to take these guys out." you continue, focus turned on sam and bucky, "there's five on the perimeter, all armed. there's two that have just wandered off towards you guys. pick them off."

sam's voice crackles in, "i'll take the guys with the guns."

there's a pause—

"we can take the guys with the guns." he corrects himself a moment later— probably after a look from bucky.

"they're unloading the crates now. the truck is electric, so i think can stall it long enough for you guys to get close— maybe cut off their exit entirely. we still don't know if they're enhanced, so be careful and don't be stupid."

you watch sam's body cam as bucky turns to him, his voice flat through the comms, "yeah, sam."

sam scoffs and waved him off as he readjusts his shield, "i think she means you, man."

"i was just throwing it out there." you roll your eyes, fingers flying across your keyboard as you send joaquin backup, "torres has already contained the buyers, so you're up— go."

bucky's already moving before you can even finish your sentence, heavy boots almost silent against the concrete floor. sam vaults the barrier to his left, moving fast and low.

sam closes in. a pacing guard turns just a moment too late— sam drives his fist into the side of his face. he drives into another guard, sending him tumbling into a wall with a dull thud. another one spins around with a gasp. he fumbles for his weapon—

crack.

a metal fist drops him before he can even point it. bucky steps over the guy, barely slowing his pace or breaking a sweat. but then another guard rounds the corner— one who doesn't fumble with his gun— and shoots.

you look over to another screen. the thermal camera shows more figures closing in on sam and bucky, clearly on high alert. the tension in their movements show that they're panicked. the four crates that had been unloaded were now being covered back up.

"you've got six of them heading your way, and fast." you scramble. the truck's screen is visible on your screen, but your software is still trying to figure out the password, "they're unarmed, but be careful."

sam's wing fans out in a practiced motion and shields them both from the bullets. the shots ping right off of the reinforced metal. his wing retreats, and the guard looks terrified. he tries to reload the gun, but he's struggling.

sam's voice comes through, dry but amused, "i guess we're past the stealth phase."

"i didnt like that phase anyways." bucky grunts as he shoves the guard against a wall. he makes a point by grabbing his gun and snapping it in half like a twig, tossing it out reach. he knocks the guy out with one swift punch to the jaw.

they're doing good— clearing the path with ease and making sure to be vigilant— but then they walk into the main area of the warehouse. it's wide open and humming with the sound of the truck and trailers shoving the crates back into the back, and there's at least a handful of masked figures standing there.

the six figures you had seen nearing sam and bucky are already stepping into the light of the warehouses main floor— calm, coordinated, and slightly intimidating.

each one is broad-shouldered and looks battle-worn. their body temperatures come up significantly warmer than both sam and bucky's, and you can tell something is wrong.

"you think they've taken the serum?" bucky shifts his stance, fists already clenched.

you watch as one of the men lurches forwards— blindingly fast— and throws sam across the room, far too fast for sam to catch himself. he hits a pillar, sliding down it with a groan.

"shit." you inhale.

"i think so!" sam yells, voice strained.

the rest of them charge. bucky's the first to meet them head-on. he lands a solid punch to one of their jaws— and it should've dropped him— but the guy just snarls, barely flinching, and drives his knee into bucky's stomach.

sam's back up, his shield snapping into place just quick enough to block a hit. he's fighting hard and moving fast, wings flicking around for balance and defence, but for every hit he dodges, there's another one right after.

you're watching the fight from a drone overhead like a game you can't control. youre working on trying to stall the truck, but it's difficult when youre also watching your friends get their asses beat.

sam takes out one guy with a swing of his wing and a nasty uppercut, but two more corner him. bucky slams a guy through a metal beam— literally through it— but it only buys him a second before another super soldier grabs him by his jacket and tosses him across the room, back slamming into a shelving unit.

then— like a miracle— a screen on your right starts beeping. a red dot farts across the radar, closing in on the warehouse. you spin in your chair to check the corresponding feed just as a figure cuts through the sky.

you grin, "torres incoming!"

not even a second later, joaquin bursts through one of the warehouse windows, wings flaring wide. his visor glints as he absolutely bodies two super soldiers like bowling pins just as one of them winds up to hit bucky again.

he lands with a thud, wings retracting quickly as he jogs up to sam. bucky is close behind, but he's still fighting off two super soldiers.

"about damn time." sam huffs.

bucky wipes the blood leaking from his nose, taking a moment to catch his breath, "what the hell took you so long?"

"traffic." he grins and holds his hand out for sam, who's literally holding on by a thread, trying to prop himself up with his shield, "was getting your asses kicked a part of the plan?"

sam groans as joaquin pulls him up, "don't push it, joaquin."

you're still watching the fight through various monitors. the comms are full of grunts and sharp breathes, but now that joaquin's there, they're struggling a little less.

and then there's a beep— a small, sad beep— and a window that says 'OVERRIDE FAILED' in big red letters. you freeze.

"they've locked me out of the truck's system. they're overriding my remote access." you scramble to restart the process, but it doesn't let you.

you glance at another screen. the camera feed confirms your worst fear— they're escaping. one of the super soldiers is climbing into the driver's seat, the rear doors slamming shut as the engine hums to life.

"they're taking off—" you panic as you watch the truck pull out of the warehouse driveway, "shit, someone stop that truck!"

before anyone can respond, bucky takes off in a full sprint— no hesitation, no plan, and clearly no intention of letting that truck get away or waiting for anyone. his boots pound against the asphalt as he trails it.

"barnes—" you call through the comms, stressed out of your mind.

you hadn't expected him to chase after it. he was the only one without wings or a jet pack, yet you watched him run after that truck like he was chasing all he's ever wanted. the panic in your voice doesn't help. if anything, it only pushes bucky harder.

he barrels out onto the street, only a few metres from the truck. you send a drone up ahead, the camera feed glitching as it races to keep up. you're trying to calculate every route the truck could take to evade capture— until your eyes land on a large clearing.

there's a river glittering under the sun, splitting the city in half. a large drawbridge stretches over it, connecting the two sides of land. just next to it, there's an enormous cargo ship waiting to cross— and your heart stops when you notice the bridge is already at a 70 degree angle.

"they're gonna jump the bridge, barnes." you quickly warn, "if they make it across before the split—"

"they're gone." he finishes, breathless but ready. you can hear his sharp breathes through your headset, "i'm not letting it get away. 'gonna jump it."

"fall back, barnes, you're not going to make it." you bark through the comms, trying to keep your voice steady. you watch as he speeds up, running faster than you've ever seen him run.

"you better listen to the lady, bucky." sam adds, wings slicing through the air as he tries to catch up.

you watch as the truck barrels forwards, climbing up the incline of the rising drawbridge like it's easy work. bucky's close— too close to stop. he digs his feet into the ground harder as he launches himself up the incline.

you can see it all through a drone— the truck about to leap, bucky on its tail, the bridge yawning wide open underneath them, and the water far below shining like teeth. the cargo ship blares its horn as it draws closer to the bridge, wary of what's happening.

it happens too fast—

the truck leaps across the gap. its front wheels leave the ground for just a split second before the back wheels follow, and then its airborne. behind it, bucky jumps too.

you're on your feet now, eyes locked onto the drone feed. your hands are braced on either side of the desk and your knuckles have gone bone-white. you're not breathing or thinking. you're not even sure if your heart is beating.

for a moment, he's airborne. then just as quickly, he's falling straight through the gap and into open air. the wind catches in his jacket, gravity yanking him down towards the water and the cargo ship below.

just before he hits the ship deck, a blur of red, white, and blue zips past— sam.

his wings flare as he dives, hooking one arm around bucky with precision, the two of them twisting mid-air as the momentum nearly sends them spiralling. they hover under the bridge for a moment before sam takes off towards solid ground.

you collapse in your chair and yank the joystick for scout, who zooms towards bucky and sam. its camera focuses, cutting through the haze of the sun to check on them.

"jesus christ, buck, are you okay?" you panic into your mic, already trying to see if he needs medical attention.

"i've caught the princess, he's safe." sam replies, smug as ever.

you lean in closer to the screen as scout zips around him, "are you injured? you might need to take your vest off so i can assess it and let medical know."

"take me to dinner first." he doesn't look thrilled about the rescue. he brushes off his jacket with a clenched jaw, then narrows in on scout, who's circling him. he flings his hand at it like a fly, "and get that stupid drone out of my face. it's ugly."

"rude." you frown, "he just risked his tiny propellor life to check up on you."

"yeah?" bucky asks flatly.

you narrow your eyes, "yeah."

bucky gives scout a fake smile and says an insincere 'thanks buddy'. then— without hesitation— bucky grabs scout mid-hover. you barely have time to shout at him before he launches scout straight up into the sky, spinning wildly and almost vanishing.

the feed spins out of control as the stabilisers struggle to compensate with the speed it'd been hurled at.

sam clicks his tongue and shakes his head, "ooooh, she's gonna kill you."

bucky shrugs, utterly unfazed, but there's a shadow of a smile sitting on his lips, "i didn't like the way it was looking at me."

"you better pray he still works when you get back or else i'll murder you in your sleep." there's a lowness in your voice that should be intimidating, but bucky doesn't falter.

"i'd like to see you try." he retorts, his tone bordering amused.

"you've never seen me." you reply matter-of-factly, "you wouldn't even see me coming.”

"oh, trust me, the moment i hear nasally breathing, i'd know exactly who was about about to beat my ass."

"that sounded like a compliment, barnes." you roll your eyes, ignoring the insult and simply smirk, putting on your best mock-sultry tone, "are you complimenting me?"

"don't flatter yourself. i've just taken too many hits to the head."

he hears you scoff, and it makes his grin widen. he can almost imagine you in your little computer room at the base, sitting in front of your set-up with an unimpressed look on your face, or even pacing back and forth muttering about how annoying he is.

it's weird how he knows so much about you, but still can't really picture what you look like. he's tried, but it's mostly just a blur— almost like a familiar face from a dream.

sam stops walking and turns to bucky with his hands on his hands, "are you guys done flirting or do you want me to circle back in a couple of hours?"

"you should've just let him fall into the river, sam." you grumble through the comms.

"hey guys?" joaquin's voice comes in clear and troubled.

sam pauses, his eyebrow furrowing, "what's up, torres?"

"you might wanna come and check this out."

it's later in the day. the team had gathered back at the base to debrief, worn out and trying to gather themselves after the failed mission.

sam is slouched on a chair, eyeing the information on the screen to figure out what went wrong, bucky's leaning against the wall with a towel around his neck and a band-aid above his brow, and joaquin's icing his shoulder and holding up his phone, where your voice comes through the speaker.

"so youre telling me that they just abandoned two entire crates full of super soldier serum and then just dipped?" you spoke— sharp and unmistakably done with everything.

"uhhhhhhhh... yeah." joaquin blinks, then tilts his head in confusion, "i thought you were already caught up with this?"

"do i sound caught up, joaquin?" you roll your eyes and take a deep breath, "it just doesn't make any sense. they went through all that effort to keep up busy, only to leave the serum behind like its nothing?"

"you think it was a decoy?" joaquin asks.

"i don't know." you half-shrug, "they've barely touched it, and i just got a message that they want me to check it out before they log it and send it into evidence."

sam straightens in his chair, "you want backup?"

"it's sitting in the middle of an air-force base, sam. if someone pops out, they've got bigger things to worry about than me— like the twenty armed guards surrounding it or the drone that's been circling it for the past hour."

"you're actually leaving your cave?" bucky jokes.

"yeah, barnes, i am." you deadpan, hand already on your 'caves' door handle, "since you threw scout into orbit, i'll have to use my eyes like a normal person. he's fine, by the way. just a bit of whiplash."

sam huffs out a laugh, but his shoulders are still visibly tense, "hey, just be careful, okay?"

"always. i'll call back in ten." you say, more to yourself than anyone else, then hang up.

the room is silent for a few seconds. the low him from computer monitors fills the space, punctuated by the slow ticking of a clock nearby.

joaquin sighs, then mutters, "can't believe they left the crates behind." he shifts the ice pack on his shoulder, "feels... off."

sam leans back in his chair with a tired sigh, "if anyone's gonna spot something we missed, it's her."

then another moment of silence stretches through the team. outside the window, the airfield lights burn against the dusk. the base is usually quiet at this time of day.

bucky stares out of the window. then he asks, "is she always like that when she's out in the field?" he doesn't clarify what he means by that, but the others seem to understand what he means.

"what, annoyingly confident?" sam lets a small smile wander onto his face as he thinks about you, "she's about ten times worse when she's not behind those screens. but it's good. she doesn't miss much. and when she's got a gut feeling..."

sam doesn't finish his sentence. he doesn't need to.

"you should see her during intel briefings." joaquin adds with a goofy grin, "she'll shred a guy's whole thesis with like... three words. it's brutal."

"and that weird 'incoming' thing she does?" bucky frowns, like he's genuinely confused, "what is that?"

joaquin laughs under his breath, "she's been doing that since we were recruited. it's like... her thing."

bucky's quiet for a moment. his eyes glance at joaquin's phone where your voice had just crackled through not even a minute ago. it sat idly on the table. there's a weird feeling in his chest— almost embarrassment. he'd known you for two years and was only just now asking questions.

"is she tall?" bucky blurts out.

joaquin blinks, caught off guard, "what?"

there's another beat of silence. sam turns his head away slowly from the monitor, clearly unimpressed, and gestures vaguely to bucky. he deadpans, "he's never seen her."

"seriously?" joaquin raises his brows, "you've been working with her for two years, and you've never ever seen her face?"

bucky runs his tongue against the inside of his cheek. he wants to just get over the subject, but he's brought it onto himself. he shrugs like it's nothing as he pulls the towel from around his neck, but the pink tips of his ears say the opposite.

"she's always behind a screen or..." bucky runs his hand over his face, exhaling like he already regrets having this conversation, "or on encrypted phone calls, or in a control room in some random part of this place. she's not exactly the easiest person to bump into."

"you've never looked her up? never seen a photo?" joaquin still looks utterly amused, inching ever so slightly across the table, "you haven't even stalked her, just a little bit?"

bucky looks at him like he's spewed gibberish, "no."

"she was standing right next to you last week." joaquin exclaims incredulously, "at the debrief? she was standing next to you with her arms crossed? we could go check out to the crates right now. she'd be there."

bucky furrows his brows, completely silent.

sam leans back with a knowing smirk, "trust me, if he'd seen her, he'd remember her."

"what's that supposed to mean?" bucky frowns, unsure if he should be offended or if he actually has a point to make.

"it means she's memorable, man." sam says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "voice like that? brain like that? you think the looks don't match? she’d have you thinking about her 24/7.”

joaquin raises his brows in agreement, "he's got a point."

bucky doesn't respond, and his silence says more than any smartass comeback ever could. he's just sitting there, absentmindedly playing with the towel in his hands and staring at nothing in particular, his gaze far off— maybe trying to picture you again. maybe trying to figure out if he should go out and see you— but it feels wrong.

sam watches him for barely a second and has already read him like a book. he rolls his eyes and leans forwards with intent, like he's seen this before. and he has. "don't go getting all obsessed, buck."

that snaps bucky out of his head. he scoffs, "i'm not—"

"she called you buck and you didn't say anything about it."

joaquin watches the exchange like its an intense tennis match.

"i've known you for, like... ten years. i called you buck last year and you didn't like it." sam points out, gesturing emphatically, "and you just asked if she was tall like you were filling out your dating profile preferences."

"it was a question." bucky defends.

"a weird question." sam retorts.

"oh, give me a break." bucky clenches his jaw, "you're telling me that if you there was a voice in your ear 24/7 for two years, you wouldn't be going insane?"

and he meant insane. you were everywhere. in his ear during missions, on his phone when you need to let him know important intel at ungodly hours, in briefing folders where half of the intel had come straight from you, and even in conversations he overhears whenever he walks through the base.

you— the genius air-force captain who works directly for the new captain america.

no one really knew how you ended up running tactical for sam, but no one had questioned it either. you were just good. scary good. the kind of smart that made people shut up and listen, and the kind of precise that made bucky trust your voice more than his own gut.

bucky had fought his entire life— in wars, for and against hydra, stared down gods and aliens and wizards— but somehow, it was you, the staticky voice in his ear, that kept him on edge.

how can someone be everywhere, but nowhere to be seen?

but then there's a loud bang— loud enough to jolt sam and joaquin out of their chairs. its sharp and feels wrong in their guts, the kind of sound that doesn't belong in a secure military base.

"what the hell was that?" sam shouts.

an alarm starts blaring in the main sector of the air base— where you are.

the three of them were already sprinting down the hallway before they had even registered that they'd moved. the smell of smoke hits their noses before they even make it out of the doors— acrid, bitter, and smelling off chemicals.

outside, the air is thick of it. it sticks low to the ground, a handful of military personnel already corralling debris and shouting orders at each other amongst the wreckage. something had definitely exploded.

"jesus—" sam mutters with his mouth shielding his face from the smoke, "isn't that where the crates were?"

bucky's jaw tightens. there's a crunch under his boot, and when he lifts it, a tiny vial with blue liquid stares back at him. his eyes sweep through the smoke, but he's not sure he could even recognise you. a figure in fatigues passes by and bucky's wastes no time in stomping towards them.

"hey—" he calls, voice rough with urgency. your name slips from his mouth, "was she here? was she hurt?"

the figure turns and points to the other side of the base, "they took her to medical." they quickly reply.

joaquin wastes no time and bolts in your direction, not bothering to ask any questions or where you are— he'd find you.

sam is already stepping over the debris to try to figure out what had happened. when they'd transported it back to the base, there had been no signs that anything was wrong. and now, after hours of silence, one had detonated after you had checked on it.

"she said she felt something was off." sam stiffens, "and she was right."

bucky rounds the edge of the blast zone, his eyes scanning the ground. bits of scorched wood and metal are strewn everywhere with dark smoke still curling upwards like it's taunting them. his boot kicks something small and metallic, half buried in the dust.

"sam." he calls, crouching down.

sam looks over. his eyes narrow as bucky reaches for a small warped disc. it's blackened, but not completely unrecognisable— a thin casing, circuit etching, and what looks like melted adhesive around the edges.

"they were never gonna come back for it." bucky turns over the deflated bomb, "wanted to cause serious damage to whoever took it."

"yeah, and it worked. they've put our man in the chair in hospital."

bucky rips off a flailing piece of plastic from the bomb. underneath, there's writing writing in minuscule block letters and unintelligible to him at first glance. its not english or in any language he recognises.

he squints, turning it slightly, "you seeing this?"

sam leans over and brushes soot off of the surface, "some kind of... manufacturing tag?"

"could be a location." bucky matters, pointing at a short line of text half-buried under the sticky residue, "this part here looks like latitude and longitude."

sam exchanges a stumped look with bucky, "so what, they booby-trap the crates, nearly kill our comms specialist, and then give us a return address?"

"looks like it."

they both fall silent. there's still a hum of chaos and confusion in the air with military personnel running back and forth to figure out what's happening, and joaquin's still in medical trying to find you. sam's jaw ticks.

"you thinking what i'm thinking?" he asks.

bucky nods once, "yeah. time to pay 'em a visit."

the moon hangs heavy over the towering complex. the building hangs on the edge of a tree line, swallowed by both nature and time. what used to be a lavish apartment complex in the 70s was now home to spiders, rats, and bird nests, the crumbling skeleton of concrete and steel forgotten, but not untouched.

joaquin frowns, craning his neck just to look up at the building, "you guys sure this is the place?"

before he can even finish his sentence, a slow gust of wind passes through. it whistles through the exposed windows and cracked walls, groaning like its alive. the metal structure groans under its own weight and it sways.

"that cannot be good." sam audibly winces.

they shake it off, moving without speaking. joaquin checks his wings and weapons, bucky is staring up at the windows like he's trying to see something through them, and sam is trying to get redwing to scout the area— a poor substitute for the tech they had gotten used to.

there's a silence surrounding them that crawls under their skin. no crackling in their ear pieces, no humming from drones zipping around in the air, and certainly no voice in their ears telling them what to do next. all that accompanies them is the sound of wind and the thud of concrete as chunks occasionally fall from the building.

then joaquin exhales through his nose and shifts uncomfortably like your lack of presence is physically effecting him, "yeah, this feels weird."

"right?" sam lets out a relieved laugh like he's been thinking the same exact thing, "it's almost too quiet. i dont know what to do with myself without someone yappin' in my ear."

he glances sideways at bucky, who looks like he's thinking the same, but is keeping his mouth shut about it. "you miss her too, don't you, buck?"

bucky pauses like he's about to say something witty that'll get sam off of his back, but he lets out a small breath in amusement and nods once instead, "yeah. i guess i got used to her bossing us around all day."

then, as if summoned by pure magic, there's a crackle that hits all three of their ear pieces.

"you guys can't get rid of me that easily." your voice slips in, smug and unhurried— like you'd been listening the whole time and were just waiting for the perfect moment to turn your mic on.

sam jumps so high that he nearly flies redwing straight into a power line, "jesus christ—"

bucky's head snaps straight up. his hand flies to his ear piece like he can't believe that your voice is actually there. "what the hell are you doing on comms?" he asks sharply, but he can't hide the hint of relief he feels.

"it's nice to hear you too, barnes." your roll your eyes, amused.

"they cleared her." joaquin laughs, answering the question before they could ask.

"yup." you nod and gesture to your face as if they can see you, "i'm a little burnt and they had to remove a piece of metal from my cheek, but other than that, i'm fit as a fiddle."

your monitor flickers to life. in one of them, you can see the tips of bucky's fingers pressing against the lens of the small camera he usually wears on missions.

"what are you doing, barnes?" you deadpan as you watch one of your screen flip back and forth.

"i'm trying to put—" bucky sighs as he tries to jam the camera into a small hole in his vest, but it twists and turns and wont stick. "this camera's broken."

"it isn't broken. you're just putting it in upside down."

"... didnt the nurse tell you to stop talking?" bucky grumbles as he messes with the small camera. he flips it around and scoffs when it sticks on with ease, "y'know, to preserve your vocal chords and prevent any more damage or whatever?"

"a bomb exploded in my face, barnes, not in my throat." you roll your eyes, "and look— it's in now. see what listening to me does?"

"i thought i was... zooming in."

joaquin snorts, "dude's out here trying to fight super soldiers with the tech literacy of a toaster."

"i've killed people with a toaster—"

"love the attitude today, guys. very inspiring." sam grumbles. redwing flies back into their radius and clicks back into sam's pack, "now that you're here, you mind checking out the perimeter?

"whatever. scout is in—"

"incoming." the three of them chime in unison, perfectly timed and perfectly familiar. there's a silence before you laugh.

"wow, you guys." you sigh with dramatic flair, a mix of both sarcasm and genuine amusement, "i've babied you guys for so long that you're finally taking after me. wanna call me mama next?"

you can hear joaquin snicker loud and clear through the mic, and you watch through sam's body cam as bucky scoffs, rolling his eyes like he's annoyed with your antics.

sam gives the camera a flat look, knowing that you were probably laughing at their faces, "this is what happens when they let her out of medical early."

scout zips into the scene, a quiet mechanical sound whirring past the team. it flies high up into the abandoned apartment complex, small enough to squeeze into the cracks of broken windows and rusted beams like a bird, scanning the surroundings and mapping them out on sam's tablet.

"scout's in." you announce, weaving scout through dusty cloth and abandoned furniture.

from outside, the guys glance up, watching as scout disappears for a moment before darting back inside.

"i'll never get used to how fast that thing moves." sam mutters as he watches scout zip through the top floor.

"he's faster than redwing." you simply reply, but sam doesn't miss the slight edge of challenge in your voice.

"excuse me?" he scoffs, glancing at bucky's body cam like it's you and you're actually there, "trust me— if your tiny little tennis ball goes down, you're gonna be begging to use redwing."

"i'm not touching your freaky little robot bird. i have standards."

"hey, i met your ex. don't you talk to me about standards—"

there's a sharp bark of laughter from joaquin, but bucky cuts in before you and sam's banter can escalate. "can we focus?"

you roll your eyes, but narrow in on scout's POV.

"something moved on the fifth floor. it could've been the wind and some tarps, but it could've also been— woah."

that gets their attention.

"what is it?" bucky asks, immediately alert.

you zoom in slowly. "there's... something big in here. looks like machinery— lots of it. the whole setup looks old, but it doesn't look abandoned."

"what kind of machinery?" sam asks.

"hang on." scout scoots a little closer, and your eyes widen. "it's a production lab— specialised injectors, gene sequencers, stabilisers— i think this is where they were were making the serum."

joaquin narrowed his eyes in confusion, "they used this place as a super soldier factory?"

you shook your head, "no, not anymore. looks like it's been stripped clean, but the setup's still here. they didn't even bother hiding what it was and just left it to... rot. scout's picking up residual heat signatures, so whoever was here cleared out recently— maybe a few hours ago, maybe less. it should be safe."

“should be." sam mutters under his breath, but he's already pulling his shield to his chest and heading towards the door, "never feels comforting when you say that."

the team fans out as they enter the apartment building— or what's left of it.

sam sticks to the lower floors, descending down stairs leading to a basement. the flashlight on his vest isn't bright enough to cut through the vastness of it.

bucky decides to check out the machinery to see if they left anything of importance behind. he mutters something about it smelling like a meth lab as he heads upstairs.

joaquin jets to the rooftop. he wants elevation, to see the layout of the place and the potential leads that could find the group behind this— but he also wants to avoid being on the ground floor if the building decides to give way.

"scout's overhead if you need backup. keep your comms clear and open. let me know if you find anything." you tell them before turning your microphone off.

"wouldn't dream of ignoring you." joaquin teases.

and then you're alone in the silence of your command room. you lean closer to your monitors, hands intertwined against your mouth as you watch your boys disappear one by one into the dingy bowels of the apartment complex.

it's dark, and even with scout's night vision, you can barely see ahead. the hallways look more like underground tunnels, and you can only imagine how cramped it must feel. the camera stutters with static as scout floats ahead, probably from the lack of service. you're almost afraid you might lose contact with them.

scout rounds a corner. you dont necessarily know where you've guided him— it's too dark to see— but you know you're somewhere down below. you're half-focused, watching bucky's body cam and keeping tabs on joaquin's feed— until something jolts scout off course.

the small drone clips the corner of a wall and bumps into sam's shoulder, startling him.

"what the hell?" he whips around, staring down at scout like he'd just punched sam in the face, "don't sneak up on me like that."

you click your mic on with an apologetic smile, "sorry. wasn't looking where i was going."

sam rolls his eyes and turns back to the basement. it's almost a labyrinth with how many empty boxes and crates are stuffed down there, and it smells of mold and rot. sam scans the room, and you do too. there's an old supply crate shoved into the corner of a hallway, covered by a measly and moth-eaten tarp.

"hang on..." sam mutters as he nears it.

"sam, wait, don't touch it—" you warn, but it's too late. sam nudges the tarp aside, and what's underneath sends your stomach plummeting.

"it's a bomb." you breathe, "get out, sam, now—"

"sh—"

the comms explode with static— not just sam's, but bucky's and joaquin's too. there's a high pitched ringing noise piercing through your headset and sam's screen goes white, then black.

your hands fly to your keyboard, pulling up scout's emergency override system. he's still functional— wobbly and a bit glitchy, but functional— and through his lens, you see smoke and chunks of plaster. there's a section of collapsed ceiling sitting beside scout's whirring body.

before the smoke even clears, another explosion rings out— louder and closer, and then there's another. for a split second, all you can see is light, your screens showering you in a horrible, horrible feeling of dread. for a second, you think you've lost all of them.

"sam!" you yell, "sam, can you hear me? sam?"

there's movement— and then there's a groan.

"still alive." he coughs through the dust, his voice strained, "think i caught the edge of it. damn shield saved me."

"okay. you're okay—" you let out a horribly shaky breath, "just... hold still. i still need to— joaquin? bucky? someone, come in."

there's nothing but static, and then one of your screens flashes back to life. it's joaquin's, who's outside and on flat ground.

"i'm fine— jesus, i barely made it out of there." joaquin pants, doubled-over with his hands on his knees, "the roof's collapsed. i managed to fly out just before it gave out."

you close your eyes for a split second, relief washing over you— but then it's gone just as fast as it came. you whip your head towards the last monitor, the screen still static and your heart clawing in your throat.

"what the hell happened?" sam grunts as he pushes a chunk of concrete off of his chest.

"i don't know, man." joaquin replies, still catching his breath, "i was heading down and there was a POP, and then the whole building blew up like a chain reaction."

"it was a chain reaction. they must've known we were coming." your voice is low, urgent, "one in the basement near sam, one on the roof, and—" you pause as you glance at bucky's feed, "one near the lab."

sam presses his hand to his ear, trying to filter out the crumbling concrete from the static in this ear piece, "bucky, do you copy?"

"barnes?" you call again, leaning over your console like it'll bring you any closer to him, "barnes, can you hear me?"

"come on, buck, say something." sam mutters, pacing through the wreckage, "try bouncing the signal again."

"i am." you snap, more out of fear than anger, "i've already rerouted twice. there's just— there's nothing." then, more quietly you add, "he was right by the lab. that blast radius—" you swallow hard.

"i'm going after him." sam says immediately, already pushing his way out of his entrapment.

"no— no, wait, sam. the buildings not stable. i have to run a structural integrity scan before you can move." you pause, frantically typing, "follow scout— he'll find a way out. i'll find barnes."

sam clenches his jaw, but he listens.

"i'm going to try switching stations. maybe in the explosion he accidentally hit a button. maybe he just lost signal— a tech issue, maybe. either way, i can fix it."

you try reasoning out loud— trying to stay calm— but you're not convincing anyone, least of all yourself.

from the middle floor, bucky lets out a wrangled sound— half-cough, half-groan.

he doesnt know where he is. everything's dark and dusty, choking him every time he takes a breath. his ears are ringing, and the ground is cold and damp beneath him, and it even takes him a moment to register that he’s on the ground.

and there's a throbbing pain in his leg— dull at first, but then sharp, like someone lit a fire in the muscle just below his knee. he tries to shift it, but the pressure doesn't give.

"shit.."

its hard to focus. he can't remember where he was or how he had gotten there. he blinks, once, then twice. it's silent, and he's alone. he can tell before the thought even forms, and a deep unsettling feeling forms in his stomach.

there's no chatter or humming of a drone. there's no voice telling him where to go or what to do— there's no you.

bucky clenches his jaw as he pulls himself up on one elbow. he grits his teeth as he shifts, enough to look down. there's a large metal beam pinning him down just across his shin. he exhales, trying not to move too much— trying not to panic.

he reaches up to his ear, pressing against it just to see if there was anything at all. his fingers press the buttons, trying to switch the dials— anything to get a hold of someone— but there's static.

"sam?” he rasps, "sam, come in.”

a shifting groan in the walls answers him.

"torres?" his voice cracks, "joaq— joaquin, come on. hey—"

the metal beam pinning him down just creaks under pressure.

panic starts to creep into his minds, replacing all logic. the pressure on his leg is sharp now, his side aches, and the silence is starting to weigh on him.

and then— barely a whisper— your name slips from his mouth. once, twice, and then once more, calling for you like you'd appear and rip the rubble from off of his body yourself.

"c'mon, talk to me." he pants, "tell me that i'm holding the camera upside down, or... or that scout's incoming. anything— just— say something."

he waits, and waits, and waits, but only static answers.

bucky doesn't know what to do. if he moves, he's afraid the rubble around him will crush him. if he doesn't, he'll never get out.

he squeezes his eyes shut, his forehead pressing against the dusty concrete as his breath stutters. his heart is pounding in his chest and he can hear it in his ears, unsure if it's from fear or the lack of oxygen.

he doesnt want to die. at least not like this. not alone.

a sharp, dry laugh escapes him— bitter and breathless.

"shouldve told you i missed your voice before i got crushed by a goddamn support beam." he mutters to no one, "that would've been smart."

his hand slips from his ear and falls to the floor. he's tired.

then—

"barnes? barnes?"

his earpiece glitches as he turns his head, looking around like the voice might be there. there's a sputter, and another glitch— but the voice in his ear is unmistakably you.

"bucky, can you hear me?"

your voice cuts through the static like a blade of light in the dark. youre clearer now, sharper— desperate.

and bucky laughs. its all he can do. a soft, disbelieving laugh into the stagnant air, his chest stuttering with pure, aching relief. its the sound of someone trying not to fall apart.

"you—" he coughs, dragging a shaky breath into his lungs, "you dont know how happy i am to hear your voice. where's sam and joaquin?"

he can hear a loud breathy laugh and then a thud, almost like you just collapsed at your desk from sheer joy, "they're fine. they're out. you just... you scared the hell out of me, barnes—"

"call me bucky’."

there's a silence on your end— like you're letting his words find their way into your brain. like maybe you needed to hear that.

then softer, you smile. "okay. bucky."

he closes his eyes again. he lets the sound of his name in your voice carry him through the weight pressing down on your leg.

"can you move? are you bleeding? are you—"

"i'm trapped." he cuts you off. he knows you're stressing yourself out far too much, "there's a support beam pinning my leg down, but otherwise, i think i'm fine. i can't get a hold of sam or joaquin, so... you're all i've got now."

"good. i've got you all to myself now." you try to joke— trying to keep bucky from panicking— but he can hear the quiver in your voice and the way your words wobble just enough to betray you.

"hey." he softens, "you don't need to worry. i'm okay. i'm alive."

"right. sorry, i'm just—" you swallow, eyes boring holes into bucky's monitor, "i was scared."

there's a silence, and for a moment, you're afraid bucky's been knocked out— but then he laughs. with his usual calm certainty you're so used to now—

"takes a little more than bombing a building to get rid of me."

you smile— watery and breathless�� even if he can't see it. but he can hear you, and that helps with his pain. bucky huffs out a soft laugh, but it catches in his throat when the rubble around him shifts against his chest.

you catch the sound immediately. "what was that?"

"i'm under five hundred pounds of concrete and steel." bucky grunts under his breath, "i don't think it likes me moving."

"okay, okay. hold on. i'm pulling up scout's last scan of your level." you're already typing, eyes darting between monitors. "there's a structural weakness about two feet to your left. if you can push against it, i think i can guide you out."

"you think?" he mutters.

"barnes—"

"bucky."

you sigh, "i'm going to get you out, bucky. just.. trust me."

"i do." he says without hesitation.

you breathe in. "alright— now lean over and try to pull out your leg out from under that beam. it's cracked and scout thinks you can snap it. from there, you should be able to push some of the concrete away on your left and climb out."

"i'll try."

there's a deep rumbling sound coming from bucky's mic, and it was now more than ever that you wished his body cam had worked. there's a sharp grunt from bucky, and then—

there's a metallic groan, and then a cracking noise.

"bucky?"

"i'm out."

"jesus christ, bucky, don't ever do that again. i thought you broke your leg or something."

"you just told me to do it."

"that's not the point. i just—" you stop yourself and place a restless hand against your forehead like you can scrub the panic away, "i'm re-routing scout to find you. sam and joaquin are moving to help you from the outside.

there's a pause— just the low hum of your tech and the faint hiss of static in bucky's ear.

"you're doing great." bucky says gently as he pulls away a handful of debris, "seriously. you've got me halfway out already."

"halfway doesn't count." you mutter. youre focused on scout's monitor as it zooms up multiple levels towards bucky. you're barely blinking, and you're thumbnail is torn up from where you've been nervously chewing on it.

he smiles faintly— dusty, tired, but honest. "it counts to me."

scout clears the floors— each level scanned and discarded— and then, like a light in the dark, you can spot the unmistakable glimmer of bucky's vibranium arm under the rubble.

you switch back to sam and joaquin's channel, your voice breaking through the comms, "bucky's on the sixth level's east corridor. he's trapped, but he's okay."

"copy that!" joaquin responds instantly.

before long, bucky can hear two pairs of boots thudding against the ground. he blinks slowly as a flashlight burns into his face. he turns his head just enough to see them through the haze— sam on the left and joaquin on the right.

"took you long enough." bucky jokes as he shoves another piece of debris out of the way.

"oh, he's alive." joaquin exhales as he grabs at chunks of metals, "i thought we were gonna be digging out a corpse."

bucky rolls his eyes, holding out an arm, "love the optimism."

sam practically leaps forwards, crouching beside him, "you're a damn cockroach, you know that? an explosion, six floors of concrete, and you're still alive." he says, grabbing bucky's arm and slinging it over his shoulder, "can you walk?"

"i'll manage." bucky leans on sam and joaquin more than he wants, but at least he's upright.

as they make it out, scout trails behind them like a loyal shadow.  your voice crackles through, but not in their ear pieces— through scout. "you've got a clear past east. the stairwell's stable, but don't waste time."

bucky glances up, and although he can't see you, there's a softness in his expression as he limps down the hallway, "still with me?"

you smile, "still with you."

joaquin glances awkwardly at sam, then rolls his eyes, "alright, you can flirt later. let's just get out of here."

the hangar is dim, lit only by overhead lights that flicker slightly and the occasional sensors that turn on when a janitor walks by. sam, bucky, and joaquin stand in a semi-circle staring down at atleast ten full crates of super soldier serum, the lids pried open and the vials staring— almost mockingly— back at them.

no one speaks for a while.

"so you're telling me..." sam pauses as he holds his hand to his mouth, trying to make sense of the unbelievable situation in front of him, "we almost died... and the serum was in john walker's hands?"

joaquin tilts his head, "hell of a sentence."

bucky leans over and plucks a vial from it's foam confine. it's heavier than he expected. he tilts the vial, watching the blue liquid slink to its side, an inkling of suspicion growing in his chest.

"who's to say this isn't a trap?" he places it back into the crate and crosses his arms against his chest, "walker drops off ten crates of serum and walks off, no questions asked? i mean... how'd he even manage to take these guys down? he doesn't have the shield or the government's support."

sam turns around and shakes his head, too stressed out of his mind to even think about it anymore, "i don't even wanna know, man."

behind them, a door opens with the familiar hiss of hydraulics. and then there's footsteps— soft, but certain.

"what are you guys looking at?"

bucky freezes.

it hits him like a punch in the chest— he knows that voice. he hears it in his sleep. in the quiet between missions. in the static of a dead ear piece. and now it’s just here— fast approaching.

it’s you. he knows it’s you.

he doesnt want to turn around— not yet— because turning around would make it real, and if it’s not— if its just his mind trying to comfort him with something familiar in a world that keeps pulling itself from under his feet— then he’s not sure he can handle it.

but then—

“why do you all look like someone died?”

and something breaks lose in him. bucky turns— he can’t stop himself— and there you are. you’re walking towards them, headset around your neck and your sleeves rolled up, clearly just finished with reports, debriefing and damage control. you look tired, but so alive that it almost knocks the air out of his lungs.

he doesnt know what he expected, but you look better than anything he could have possibly conjured up in his mind.

it’s instant, like something short circuits in him. you’re safe. you’re here. there’s no more static through a headset, no dust, and no explosions. you’re real and you’re standing ten feet away, completely unaware of the fact that he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since you said his name over comms.

you walk closer, hands on your hips as you peer into one of the crates. you speak, but bucky barely hears you over the roaring in his ears.

she’s fine. she’s fine. she’s fine.

he swallows hard. his metal hand twitches. you feel his stare before you see it. you glance over.

there's dust still smudged along the side of his jaw, and a faint scrape just above his eyebrow. but he's standing there and breathing, watching you like he can't believe you're real.

“hi, bucky.” the corner of your mouth twists up into a warm smile as you give him a proper once-over, “you look good.”

you say it like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

as you walk up to them, your shoulder brushes his for a fraction of a second. you just stand beside him like it's nothing— like this isn't some world-shattering event for bucky and that you weren’t a disembodied voice talking in his ear less than an hour ago.

even sam and joaquin are surprised, side-eyeing each other over the crates with identical expressions of is this really happening right now? and why is he just staring?

he's trying to play it cool, but he can't— he just can't keep his eyes off of you.

"holy shit, is that—" your jaw almost goes slack as you peer into the crates, eyes glazing over the glass vials in their foam casings, "where the hell did these come from?"

joaquin lets out an exasperated laugh, "you'll never guess."

you blink, "john walker?”

sam snorts, “okay, maybe you’ll guess.”

"i heard you say his name before i came in, i just didn’t think he was the one who dropped these off." you exclaim. you’re sort of impressed, "are you kidding me? how'd he even manage to get in here?”

your voice pitches with incredulity, the question half-rhetorical, half pure disbelief. you’re already running through possibilities in your head, and none of them are good.

you’re still peering into the crates, but bucky’s barely processed a single word since you walked in. his brain short circuits a little, and he speaks before he can stop himself.

“you’ve got… pen on your cheek.”

you blink, caught off guard, “what?”

bucky gestures vaguely to his own face, like his hand can explain for him, “right there. blue. it’s… smudged under your eye. must’ve been from the, uh… debrief reports or something.”

there’s a pause.

"seriously?” sam turns to face bucky’s, his brows raised so high that they’re practically part of his hairline, “you see the lady's face for the first time and that's what you say?

joaquin chokes on a laugh. you stare at bucky with an amused grin. he looks absolutely mortified.

“wh— it was distracting.” bucky waves sam off, trying to get him off of his back.

but you only laugh as you watch bucky scoff, "two years and you still don't know how to greet me. you could at least tell me i look good.”

he furrows his brows, caught somewhere between embarrassed and flustered “that’s a bit egotistical, don’t you think?”

you shrug, “oh, my bad. i forgot that you were the only one who’s allowed to be a little full of yourself around here.”

joaquin sucks in a breath through his teeth, “she’s got you there, man.”

bucky rolls his eyes and sighs. he opens his mouth, then closes it, and then he just shrugs, “you look good. really good.”

its awkward and a little stiff, but something about the way he says it makes it feel real— a little vulnerable— like he means it more than he knows how to physically express it.

you soften, just a little, “thanks, bucky.”

a short silence passes again, more comfortable now.

“okay, but seriously, what the hell are we gonna do with these?” you nod towards the crates, nudging one with the toe of your shoe.

sam blows out a breath, “i don’t know, but i do know one thing.”

you, bucky, and joaquin all look at him as he claps his hands together like he’s had a brilliant idea.

“i think we deserve a drink— y’know, to celebrate not dying.”

joaquin raises his hand, “i second that.”

“best idea you’ve had all day, sammy.” you grin, “i’ll go grab the good stuff.”

bucky watches as you turn and leave, something unreadable in his eyes. he stays frozen as he watches you disappear behind a door.

once you’re out of earshot, sam turns to bucky and pats him firmly on the shoulder—

“don’t worry.” he says with a knowing grin, “i’ll make sure you get another chance to say something better.”

bucky doesn’t reply, but the faintest smile pulls at the corner of his mouth.

[caprisunzz]

ditched & devoted- wasted material

summary: a day of sun, sea and a shirtless Rafe Cameron is all you could need but it starts off on a rocky foot when you finally come face to face with Sarah again, your (ex?) best friend. Rafe is not letting it ruin his one chance with you.

pairing: best friend's brother rafe x fem!reader

previous part next part

words: 3.7k

It was Saturday. You were going on a date with Rafe Cameron. If someone told you that just a month ago, you would think they’d lost their minds and if someone told your 13-year-old self that, she’d be jumping for joy. You expected to feel nervous, waited for the nausea to trickle into your stomach, to feel the regret wash over you like an early morning wave but it never came. The tides stayed steady and strong. Instead of nervousness, excitement shadowed you in the days since you took Wheezie shopping. You’d already picked out your outfit by Thursday, told Mayci about it on Friday and now it was the day.

The sun was shining bright with only a few clouds lingering in the sky. You awoke to the usual sounds of a chaotic Saturday morning, your parents getting ready for Miles’ soccer game, the click of your mom’s heels; ones that she refused to switch for sneakers no matter how many times they got stuck, the deep tone of your dad’s voice as he called for Miles to hurry up and the stomps of your little brother clambering down the stairs. With the slam of the door, the house was enveloped in silence, a deep sigh of calm settling through the walls as you got up and started to get ready. You’d settled on a butter yellow bikini, molten sunshine clinging to you like a second skin - small enough to catch his attention but not too outrageous, nothing he hasn’t already seen before. You paired it with a light, linen shorts and shirt set and some mini brown sunglasses pushed up into your wavey hair.

Once in your car, butterflies swirl in your stomach as you tighten your grip on the wheel. You let out a deep breath and loosen your hold as you try to tame the flurry– it’s good nerves, the first date excitement, wanting to look cute, wanting him to think you look pretty. You don’t have to be scared, or worried – it’s Rafe. You’ve known him forever; you don’t remember a time before him. You know him explicitly, the good and the bad. And so, you make the familiar journey with a smile on your face, humming along to your usual playlist and when you get to Tanneyhill you don’t hesitate.

Rafe had been getting the boat ready all morning, he’d gotten up earlier than usually for the weekend, when the only sound echoing the halls was Ward starting up the coffee machine. He threw on a pair of basketball shorts and a random t-shirt before he made his way downstairs, he passed his dad in the kitchen grumbling a low “good morning” before making his way to the docks – leaving Ward with a coffee mug in hand and brows raised to his hairline. After an hour, the Druthers was refuelled, tidied and restocked with any drinks and snacks he could remember you liking. 

By the time he got back to the house, Ward and Rose were in the wind so he took his time getting ready – didn’t have to worry about his dad making a comment on the amount of water he was using. He freshened up his shave, before picking out his blue swim trunks and a striped t-shirt and sprayed a generous amount of his Tom Ford cologne – one you’ve complimented him on many times before. As the clock was ticking closer to midday, he felt his chest tighten with an unfamiliar sense of nerves. Rafe had gone on many dates, too many first dates to count but the big difference was, he has never been on a date with you. You, who’s haunted his dreams for as long as he can remember. You who’s always had his back, without question. You who has no trouble calling him out, reminding him when he’s being an asshole. You who’s also soft enough with him to let him change, and to notice it when he does. So that’s why his chest feels tight and his hands have been jittery since Wednesday – he’s waited his whole life for this one shot, and he refuses to mess it up. With a deep breath he grabs some beach towels from the closet and jogs them over to the boat, double checking that everything is in order one more time.

You walk through the front door of Tanneyhill, floating through like summer breeze and lightly call out for Rafe. You’d planned to meet here but when you see no signs of him, you shoot him a text to let him know you’re here, asking if you should meet him by the dock. The creak of the stairs draws your attentions and your head snaps up only to be frozen in place by a familiar blonde.

“Y/n, hey.” Sarah startles, stopping mid step on the staircase.

“Hey.” You hesitantly reply, a tingle of awkwardness making its way down your spine, dampening the flutters that had been running rampant all morning, like a damp towel on a fire.

“What are you doing here? Oh my god – did we have plans? John B’s coming to pick me up.” Sarah rambles as she starts to make her way down the stairs. Irritation prickles at your skin as you listen to her; she’d have to speak to you to make plans, even ones she forgets about. She was once someone who would drop everything for you if you showed up at her door, how could that change in only a matter of weeks?

“Oh no, I’m here for-“ You go to correct Sarah before a deep voice overtakes your own.

“Hey, you ready?” Rafe greets you as he walks through from the kitchen, eyes steady on you, with a lightness in his step. When he takes in your slightly rigid posture and how your eyes darted from the stairs as he walked in, his gaze travels to the steps and he scoffs as he spots his sister.

“You’re here.” He states blandly, making Sarah roll her eyes.

“I’m on my way out.” She retorts with a huff.

“Shocking.” He replies with a sarcastic drawl before he turns his attention back to you. “Ready to go?” Rafe asks you again.

“Yeah, I just wanted to give Wheezie these earrings – I’ll be two minutes.” You say quickly, giving his forearm a squeeze in reassurance as you rush up the stairs, not wanting to keep him waiting. You breeze past Sarah, shooting her a short smile before you disappear up the stairs. Rafe’s breath stutters for a moment at your warm, comforting touch and as your fresh, beachy scent lingers in your wake.

“What are you two doing?” Sarah questions as she stops in front of her brother, crossing her arms across her chest. Rafe lets out a huff, as if he’s already tired of this conversation.

“Going out on Druthers.” He dryly offers.

“Just you two?” She asks, her eyebrows furrowing and Rafe watches as disdain clouds her face.

“Yes, Sarah.” He drones, hoping his short answers will annoy her enough to leave – he isn’t quite so lucky.

“Why?” She demands, her arms tightening around her body.

“Why not?” Rafe shrugs, looking back to the stairs hoping you’ll appear.

“You’re not friends.” Sarah argues, narrowing her eyes at her brother – her distrust blatantly obvious.

“Well, I’m not trying to be her friend.” He turns back to look his sister in the eye, letting a small, boyish smirk work its way across his face as he watches her get more annoyed.

“Rafe, I told you- “

“No.” He swiftly interrupts. “You don’t get to tell me shit about her anymore.” He reprimands in a harsh, whispered tone as he hears your steps once again.

“I- “

“Okay, ready now.” You beam as you rush back down the stairs. Rafe quickly puts a smile back on his face, turning his back to the blonde.

“Let’s go.” He gently takes your hand, shocking you slightly, as he pulls you into the kitchen and away from where Sarah still stands wordlessly. You feel the urge to glance back at Sarah, to see if she’s upset, if she even cares but you keep your head staring straight and instead chance a glimpse up at Rafe. He keeps his hand still loosely holding yours, as you peer up at him and watch him attempt to school his expression.

“That was… frosty.” You try, his head darts to you and his blue’s meets yours and his shoulders unwind.

“Sorry, I didn’t know she was here.” He softens, giving your hand a light squeeze.

“No, no it’s fine. You guys just seemed kind of tense when I came back.” You gently pry.

“It was nothing.” He dismisses but he catches your slight frown so he quickly adds. “It’s just the usual with me and Sarah- nothing to worry about.” He flashes you a grin that quickly melts away any of your concerns and brings you back to the moment.

Rafe leads you down to their dock and as you step foot onto the wooden slates, he intertwines your fingers and shoots you a smile, like he knows the effect he has on you – that he hopes he has on you. He holds your joint hands up, supporting you as you hop onto the Cameron’s yacht, and he makes quick work of untying the mooring lines. He jumps onto the boat behind you, and gently places his hands on your waist from behind to usher you to the helm. Your senses are overrun by his presence; his strong, warm hands encompassing your waist, his signature scent of vanilla, tobacco and spice, his broad chest pressing into your back. You feel your cheeks pinken and you thank your lucky stars, he can’t see your flustered state. He slides his hands from you as you enter the cabin and he makes his way to the steering wheel.

As familiar with it as riding a bike, Rafe effortlessly sails you away from the house and deeper into the water. With no real destination in mind, you make mindless, idle chit chat as he decides where to moor for the day. As you talk, the sun is blazing down on you both, causing you to slide your own glasses down from your hair and look over to see Rafe squinting against the sun, sweat beginning to bead at his brow. He is too focused on steering to pay it any mind, so you grab the sunglasses that are hooked into the collar of his t-shirt and place them on his face, he sends you a beaming smile in thanks and struggles to pull his focus back to the water. As you get more comfortable and the sun rises further, you shrug your oversized shirt off of your shoulders, draping it across the couch, leaving you in your bikini top and shorts. When you turn back to him, you catch Rafe eyeing you. You bite your cheek to try and stifle your smile as you quirk a brow at him when his eyes stay firmly on your form. He sends you another smile as he rubs his hand against the back of his neck, his t-shirt straining against his biceps. 

“You want a go?” Rafe asks, nodding towards the steering wheel, swiftly changing topics from his ogling.

“No, I’m good just watching.” You tease, pulling a light laugh from him as he nods in acceptance. He gleams under your attention as he can feel your eyes on him instead of the island – it is not often that you are alone together, there’s always another friend, another family member and he’s held on to every moment he can with you but now he’s been gifted your undivided attention, and he's not going to waste it.

He manages to steel his focus on the water, until he’s reached his set spot, the one he knows gets the best view of the sunset and drops the anchor – ready to enjoy the rest of the day with you. Just you. 

He guides you out onto the deck, where you are stunned to see your usual chair, the one you shotgun whenever you and Sarah or your larger group of friends go out on the boat, is already set up with a beach towel and bottle of water, and another chair mirrored beside it.

“Had it all planned out, huh?” You grin at him as he stops at your side.

“Yeah, what’d you think this was?” He smirks, nudging you over to your spot. 

You both get comfortable, stripping off until you are just in your swimwear and lay out on the perfectly placed sun-beds. Rafe sits himself up slightly, resting up on his elbows, body turned towards you.

“Is this weird for you?” He asks, removing his sunglasses so he can see you clearer.

“What?” You ask, mimicking his position, your body slightly tilted in his direction.

“This.” He gestures to you both.

“You know, it’s kind of weird how normal this feels.” You admit, pushing your sunglasses into your hair again so you can meet his eye. “I guess I didn’t notice how flirty you were with me, because this feels pretty normal.” You teasingly add, making him smile.

“Doing some of my best work and it was wasted on you.” He jests with a scoff.

“Half the island would kill me if they knew.” You play along but Rafe only shakes his head.

“Nah, this is just for you.” He states like it’s simple, as he lays back on his towel. Like he hasn’t just taken your breath away.

And the rest of the day is just that, it’s simple but breath-taking. You lay out in the sun, for probably too long, just talking about anything and everything. You never have to worry about awkward pauses or tense tremors in conversation and when you get hungry, Rafe brings out an assortment of fruit and snacks he’d stocked away. A laugh or a smile is stuck to your face all day, your cheeks rosy pink from both the bliss of the day and the summer rays, but the glow? That’s all Rafe. 

He hasn’t been able to draw his eyes away, from your radiant smile, your soft, plump lips, the glimmer of happiness echoed in your own eyes, from the stretch of your torso as you lay out on the towel, skin already sun-kissed and freckled. He wants to trace every line, every freckle, memorise every crevice until he can recognise you in the dark. He wonders if your lips are as soft as they look, what they’ll feel like pressed against his own, how they’d taste, how’d you’d sound gasping against his mouth. He wants you unconditionally, and that has never happened to him before – he’s never felt this way. And it should scare him but when he looks at you, as your throw your head back laughing, he can’t find it in himself to be anything but happy.

“What are your plans for the rest of the break?” Rafe asks as he grabs a grape from the bunch, now sat upright and facing you.

“Not a lot – mostly hanging with the group. I basically want to be out of the house as much as possible.” You shrug. “Topper and Kelce were trying to get me and Mayci on the green so.” You trail off, looking back to him.

“Going to be a golf girl, huh?” He asks in a goading tease.

“More like a sit-in-the-cart girl but sure- if it will get them to shut up about it.” You roll your eyes playfully, smiling when you hear a huff of amusement escape him.

“How about we go? I can see how good your swing is.” He offers, miming a golf swing for effect.

“Please – You want to see how short my skirt is.” You retort with a scoff.

“Woah, I didn’t know there were skirts involved – but now that you mention it.” He lets his voice teeter off as he leans over to you, making you push at his chest with a slight giggle. He takes the opportunity to pull you next to him so you’re both sat on the same sun lounger, now facing each other as you sit cross-legged. 

“Kelce only wants us to go because he’s trying it on with Mayci.” You share, fiddling with the strings of your bikini to occupy your hands.

“What happened to Becca?” He inquires, taking one of your hands in his and mindlessly playing with your fingers.

“That flatlined real fast.” You shake your head. “See all the fun you miss when you’re being a big businessman.” You add in a tempting tone nudging him gently with your knee.

“One of the few good things about it.” He huffs in return.

“You mean that?”

“I mean… it’s just a lot of pressure.” He hesitates for a second, momentarily unsure if he should share more but when he sees your face so open and willing to listen, he can’t help but carry on. “Trying to live up to everyone’s expectations and prove myself. They all still look at me like I'm that 17-year-old that screws everything up. It’s harder than I thought I’d be.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” You try to argue but he stops you with a flat look. “No, I mean – the pressure yes, but you’re not a screw up and you never were. You were just figuring things out, if you can’t do that as a teenager, when are you supposed to? Sure, you may have made a few more mistakes, but we also have a hell of a lot more stuff at our disposal and not a lot of supervision, what do they expect us to do? Not throw parties in mansions and get drunk? Sounds kind of lame to me.” You reason, pulling his hand into your lap when you see his eyes flicker away from yours. You never want him to feel like he has to hide this from you, to feel ashamed - not for being a reckless kid, especially when he’s grown from it.

“Probably shouldn’t have driven my bike into Topper’s pool.” He winces making you let out an uncontrollable giggle at the memory – the soaked dresses, Topper’s pure joy turning into horror as he watched the pool tiles crumble like sand.

“No, but it definitely made for a good story.” You surmise, letting out another giggle before you calm. “You have changed though.” You add for good measure, meeting his earnest gaze.

“Yeah?” He bashfully asks. “That a good thing?”

“It’s not that you were bad before it’s just- I don’t know. You don’t seem as angry. I mean, if Sarah tried to date a Pogue as few years ago, he’d already be 6 feet under.” You point out.

“Alright, alright.” He drawls, slightly pulling away from you in jest.

“I’m kidding – kind of.” You wink, pulling him back towards you, missing his warmth.

“Yeah, well- turns out coke is bad for you.” He dryly retorts.

“You know, I have heard that somewhere.” You teasingly add is a faux thoughtful tone. You let the playful moment linger for a moment before interlinking your fingers with his. “I’m proud of you Rafe, really.” For a moment he’s taken aback, eyes flickering to meet your warm gaze and he feels the heat crawl up his neck making him duck his head slightly as he gives your hand a tight squeeze.

“Thanks.”

The sun begins to set along the horizon, painting the sky in a swirl of watercolour pinks and purples. The air starts to cool as the breeze carries the chill of the water causing goosebumps to rise across your skin. Rafe drifts back inside the cabin and emerges with a hoodie in hand, he holds it out to you and you accept it with a blushing smile. The fabric is a light grey and as soft as the blankets that lay scattered across your bed, you can already smell his cologne on it, probably woven into the threads from how often he wears it. You pull it on and he helps you tug it over your head, your vision momentarily clouded grey. When your head pops back out, you are greeted by his wide grin and his soft laugh as your hair scatters across your face. You finish pulling it down the rest of your body, his gaze lingering, watching as his hoodie swallows your figure, falling down until it stops at your thigh. When he meets your eye again, he gently brushes your hair back out of your face and out from under his hoodie. His hands pause, hesitating to fully draw away from you. You can see it in his eyes when he makes the decision, his hands moving to the joint of your neck, his thumbs gently tracing the line of your jaw. 

“This okay?” He asks in a voice close to a whisper. You nod gently, eyes not daring to leave his. He can feel your pulse pick up, feels the way you harshly swallow and the pink start to brush across your cheeks. He grins as he starts to lean in and your breath stutters. He stops a breath away from your barely parted lips, so close that as he moves his mouth to speak, you can feel the shadow of his lips grace yours.

“This?” he asks again in the same whisper, this one mixed with a slight tease. He might as well have shouted it as all you can see, feel, smell is him. Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.

Instead of answering him, you tilt your face up and stretch up onto your toes, capturing his lips with your own in a gentle kiss. You place your hands on his waist for balance and you can feel his moment of shock, before his grip on your face fastens and he draws you in closer. Your hands press firmly into his stomach grappling for the solidity to remind you that this is real, this is really happening. You let your fingers slide up his abs, feeling them clench at your touch, exploring up his chest and over his shoulders as he pulls you closer until your chests are pressed together, his lips never parting from yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, not letting him stray as the kiss deepens and his hands fist the material of your hoodie at your waist – at his hoodie, bunching it up until his hand lands on your bare waist. You pull apart slowly, taking a moment to breathe as he rests his forehead on yours. His hands clench on your waist as your eyes flutter open and he murmurs out softly.

“Fuck.”

[caprisunzz]

ditched & devoted- when did you get hot?

summary: shopping for a midsummers dress is looking a bit different this year but playing dress up with Wheezie may have been just the pick-me-up you needed - her hot brother may just be an added bonus

pairing: best friend's brother rafe x fem!reader

previous part next part

words: 2.7k

The sun hadn’t long risen when you woke up on the following Wednesday. The air was just heating up as the Carolina sun reached its peak, throwing out gold and orange rays against the clear blue sky - it was going to be a hot one. A perfect day for shopping on the mainland especially as your usual boutique loved to blast the AC. 

You got ready as usual, adding enough make up to feel prettier while trying on clothes but not enough that you left remnants of your face on them. You threw on a summer dress, something breezy but still up to par for the high-end boutiques you’d be scouring later. You decided to skip breakfast as you could treat yourself and Wheezie to something when you were out, might as well make a whole day of it. You knew dressing up wasn’t Wheezie’s idea of fun so anything you could do to make it a bit better for her, you would. 

It was just past 10am when you got into your little silver convertible to make the short trek to Tanneyhill. You sped past familiar houses of friends, having made this journey enough times you could probably do it blindfolded and definitely could do it blind drunk (as proven on multiple occasions). Your hair flew across your face, the downside of having the roof down but you refused to have it up in summer, needing to make the most of the sun before a storm inevitably rolled in. When you pulled up, you noticed that Ward and Rose’s cars were already gone, likely at work or even more likely at the country club. Pushing your sunglasses up into your hair, you gave the front door a light knock before letting yourself in, old habits did die hard after all, the foyer was empty- the downstairs seemingly vacant of any Cameron life. 

“Wheezieee.” You sing up from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ll be five minutes.” You could hear her frantically yell back from her room.

You hum to yourself in reply, laughing slightly as you think you hear her trip, knowing you won’t see her for at least another ten. Taking your time, you slowly wander into the kitchen sitting down on one of the bar stools by the island, making yourself comfortable as you pull out your phone when the door to the backyard opens behind you.

You swivel to see Rafe coming in, clearly having just finished his morning swim and distracted as he doesn’t notice you right away, too preoccupied towelling off his short hair. The moment he walks in your eyes follow the water droplets running down his tanned, toned torso, thankful for his distracted state so he doesn’t see you eyeing his arms as they flex with the movement of the towel. It hits you suddenly – since when was Sarah’s brother hot?

You’re pulled from your thoughts when Rafe pulls the towel from his head and drapes it over his shoulder. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees you sat in his kitchen, perched daintily on a bar stool in yet another sundress that drapes across your thighs like it was sewn around you. He recovers quickly, blinking away his initial surprise as you smile sweetly at him.

“Hey...” He greets you, his confusion seeping into his tone as he makes his way further into his kitchen.

“Hey, taking Wheezie dress shopping.” You reply answering his unasked question.

“Right.” He nods recalling the dinner from last week. He reaches the fridge and grabs waters for both of you, sliding yours across the island. “You always dress up this much for shopping?”

“Got to look pretty otherwise all the clothes will look ugly - it’s science Rafe.” You playfully advise with a grin as you accept the bottle.

“You always look pretty.” He drawls, leaning his elbows on the island making himself closer to your eyelevel with a smirk pulling at his mouth. You feel your cheeks heat up at not just his words but also his stare, you watch his eyes drift lower following the pink flush traveling across your face. You drop your chin for a moment to recollect before meeting his eyes again, his smirk just that much deeper.

“I’m not buying your suit too, no matter how many compliments you give me.” You tease, leaning closer to him yourself.

“You’re not even the one buying.” He reminds you.

“You’re right.” You hum. “I’ll get you a Rolex in commiseration. All on daddy’s card.” You wickedly grin as he cringes, wincing away from you and standing tall.

“Don’t ever call Ward daddy - ever again.” He asserts with a grimace pulling a loud laugh from you, he quickly joins you as you nearly slide off of your stool.

“What’s so funny?” Wheezie asks, announcing her entrance making you both pause as the young teen eyes you both suspiciously.

“Your brother’s balding.” You faux gasp as you hop down from your seat and make your way over to Wheezie, closely missing Rafe’s towel as he swings it out to hit you. “And so young too, what shame. Let’s go Wheez.” You quickly link your arm through the teen’s, as you start to see movement from Rafe in your periphery, dragging her out of the house as she giggles alongside you.

The entire drive to the ferry consists of you singing along loudly to your girl pop playlist and Wheezie pretending she’s not enjoying it. The starting notes of a particularly risqué Sabrina Carpenter song filters through your speakers, you squeal attempting to quickly skip it but Wheezie catches your wrist before you can and shouts the lyrics at the top of her lungs making you both erupt into giggles for the rest of the drive.

Once on the ferry you both settle comfortably into a booth, happy to sit with the silence but also occasionally pointing out the different people scattered across the deck; guessing their jobs, their relationships with each other, why they’re not working on a Wednesday. On the mainland, you take Wheezie to your favourite little café buying both of you some breakfast and then an iced coffee for the road that you both leisurely sip as you window shop. Wheezie drags you into random game stores you both excitedly enter the book store before swiftly going into your separate sections – her the comic books and you the new fiction releases. Finally, you have to drag her, with only minimal resistance into the dress boutiques. Your first stop is one you thought she would like, aimed more for young teens but by the bland look on her face she was not feeling the dresses covered in butterflies and glitter. Your second stop was a new attempt to lift her spirits, a store mostly focused on elderly women and you both tried on some ridiculous dresses that looked more like table doilies than clothing and ended at your mid shins. Que the movie montage of you both trying on the ugliest dresses you could find and proceeding to cackle at each other. Afterwards you strolled into the main event, your favourite store, Wheezie’s eyes light up in wonder as she takes in the elegant patterns and sheer amount of colour littering the rails. You’re greeted by one of the workers, their eyes warm with recognition as you all get to work to find the perfect dress.

You all focus on Wheezie first, pulling different dresses from the racks for her to try while she mostly stares in overwhelmed wonder. You direct her to the dressing rooms to start trying some on, just so she can see what styles, colours, patterns she likes. She’s on her fifth dress and you can hear her mumbled complaint thorough the dressing room door before she quietens.

“Wheez, you okay?” You tentatively ask. Silence and Wheezie do not often go hand in hand.

“Yeah.” She quietly replies, so quiet you only just about catch it over the sound of the door unlocking. Wheezie gingerly steps out, not quite making eye contact with you as she stands in front of the mirror in the waiting area. She eyes herself wearily but with a small smile starting to lift at her mouth as she turns gently, letting the skirt of the dress swish lightly at her legs. The dress is deep green with splashes of red, pink and blue making up an abstract floral pattern. It is high at her neck and flows down beautifully with a diagonal hem that goes from her knees to the floor – youthful and playful enough for her age but also showing off that she’s growing, she’s not baby Louisa anymore.

“You look beautiful, Wheezie.”

“Really?” She tests, finally looking you in the eye.

“Really. This one is perfect – do you like it?” You question, wanting to make sure she’s getting it for her – not because you like it, or if Rose and Ward would approve.

“Yeah, I think… I really like it. I feel- pretty.” She decides, giving herself an assured nod as she looks at herself in the mirror.

“Because you are – you always are.” She blushes at you compliment but rolls her eyes all the same.

“Yeah whatever.” She dismisses as she quickly retreats back into the changing room. You breathe out a laugh to yourself as you make your way back to the shop floor – time to find your dress.

Once Wheezie comes back out, dress safely waiting for her behind the counter, she seems to have much more fun picking out dresses for you to try on; some outrageous that your mother would disown you for, others looking more like bridal gowns but you try them on for her-sake, letting her laugh at you or you laugh at her as her jaw drops. You try on a blue, floor length dress that is simple but elegant, one that she picked out, and as she sees you step out she lets out a small squeal.

“That one – you have to pick that one!” She excitedly exclaims, a beaming smile on her face.

“You think?” You ask as you eye yourself in the mirror, turning to see how the dress moves, how your body looks in the different angles and – you look good! Not just good but captivating, the dress accentuating your best features, the colour making your eyes pop and tan glow.

“I think you’re right. Look at you being a stylist, better watch out or I’ll tell Rose you actually enjoyed yourself.” You tease as you walk back to change.

“You wouldn’t dare!” She gasps, playing along. She watches you walk back into the changing room with a knowing look in her eyes. “Rafe is going to lose his mind.” She mumbles to herself.

You finally make it back to Tanneyhill and as you pull up Wheezie is rattling off question after question on how she should do her hair, what colour shoes should she wear, does she need to wear jewellery? Amusement swirls in your eyes as you gently calm her and follow her up to her room so you can help raid her wardrobe.

When Rafe arrives home after his meetings, he smiles as he sees your Porsche parked back along the drive. He waltzes in, drops his keys with a clank by the door but stops as silence welcomes him, seeing no sign of you. He starts up the stairs to his room, ready to wash the humid air from the day off, when he hears the soft tones of your voice floating out of Wheezie’s room, her door slightly ajar. It brings him back to all the times he would come home from school, work, a party to hear you and Sarah laughing and whispering secrets – your melodic laugh and gentle tone more of a soundtrack to his life than he realised until it stopped. 

He peaks through the small gap in the doorway to see his little sister sat in front of her vanity, you stood behind her curling her hair and pinning each section perfectly in place. He watches Wheezie talk enthusiastically about any and all thoughts that come to mind but your eyes are intently focused on her hair, flickering to her in the mirror occasionally with a kind smile, nodding along to whatever she’s saying. Rafe can’t contain the small lift of his mouth as he turns away to leave you guys alone, going back to his room.

“Ta-da.” You say as you step away from the younger girl’s hair, Wheezie stops mid-sentence to take in your masterpiece of an up-do, the girl's curly hair pinned up with small sections gracefully flowing out of it, and the front pieces perfectly framing her face.

“Woah. I am so not going to be able to do this.” She exhales turning her head side to side.

“I’ll take a photo – I’m sure Sarah or Rose can help you.” You assure, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“She’d have to be here to help.” Wheezie scoffs with a small pout.

“You can always call me and I’ll help too.” You advise her gently, not wanting to ruin her good mood.

“Thanks, Y/n. I actually did have fun today.” She bashfully smiles as she turns in her seat to face you.

“I knew it!” You jab pulling the girl into a hug as she whines. “I should get going, but I had fun with you too Wheez.” You add.

You’re down the stairs before you hear a deep voice call your name and you turn to see Rafe coming down the stairs.

“Hey, I didn’t hear you come home.” You greet him, taking a few steps back to the stairs to meet him halfway.

“You guys were busy, didn’t want to interrupt.” He waves off. “Have fun?”

“Yeah, it was really nice.” You beam. “Oh wait.” You pause to rummage through your purse before pulling out Ward’s card. “Here.” You pass it over to Rafe, he takes it before dropping it onto the side table next to him. You roll your eyes at his carelessness. “Well, I could have done that.” He shoots you a smirk in reply.

“So, you going to let me see your dress?” He drawls, his usual boyish air on at full force.

“You want to see my dress?” You blandly ask, knowing he’s never been one to care about that sort of thing.

“Well, you in it, yeah.” He corrects as his smile turns into a roguish smirk.

“Down boy, just have to wait like the rest.” You tease, turning away from him and his flirting- he can’t see that he’s made you blush twice in one day, his ego doesn’t need the inflation. 

“Alright, alright.” He settles, drawing your attention back to him. “What are you er- what are you doing on Saturday?” He questions casually.

“Nothing, why?”

“Thinking of taking the Druthers out, would be nice to have company.” He trails off, looking to you. Rafe subtly brushes his hands against the fabric of his shorts, before pushing them into his pockets.

“Yeah, sounds good, who else is- “ 

“No one. Thought this could just be you and me.” He states simply like he hasn’t sent your mind reeling. Sure, you’ve known the Cameron’s your whole life but the number of times you’ve hung out with just Rafe could be counted in single digits and even fewer were planned. But now that you’re thinking about it, you’re struggling to remember why – why haven’t you spent more time with just Rafe? You’ve always gotten along, he’s always been easy to talk to, someone you’ve divulged your secrets and feelings to without a second thought. You feel yourself nodding before you can think about it.

“Yeah, yeah. That would be fun.” You smile gently, feeling yourself already getting excited.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at your dock.” He grins, letting ghis hands fall back to his sides as he lets out a relieved breath.

“My dad’s having it extended so it’s out of commission. I can just meet you here.” You advise, stepping backwards towards the door again but this time not taking your eyes off of Rafe.

“Cool - it's a date.”

[caprisunzz]

ditched & devoted- ghosted

summary: your lifelong best friend has been ghosting you but it's not a clean break when your families are just as close - family dinners with the Cameron's just got a lot more boring so I guess its time for the eldest to step up his game.

pairing: best friend's brother rafe x fem!reader

next part

words: 1.5k

It started just a week before summer break, Sarah and Topper called off their whatever-ship and the friend group got a bit awkward and disjointed. You stayed by Sarah’s side telling her she could do better- because I mean come on it's Topper, he’s a good time at boat parties and bonfires but he’s not Sarah Cameron. You thought she was just a bit upset, always on her phone while you were hanging out because she was trying to distract herself. But then that was weird because she stopped answering your texts and facetimes, so then maybe she was trying to have an online detox, stop herself from looking at Topper’s endless gym selfies and golf shots. Surely, she wasn’t just ghosting you.

Sarah had been your best friend for years, not just years, but since before you could remember. The l/n’s and Cameron’s were names linked in every kook and pogues mind as business partners, friends, basically family. Your dad was the first kook to believe in Ward and invest in Cameron Development and so, an empire was born.

Sarah was basically your sister, your bedrooms were interchangeable, sharing closets as easily as gum. Sure, you had times where there were lulls; like when new boyfriends appeared or when Sarah first befriended Kiara in 9th grade, the texts would lower to a couple a week. But you would always quickly return to normal, the boyfriends would eventually disappoint and for a short while your duo became a trio, Kiara bending that unbreakable bond to include one more. And when that friendship burnt out and a fierce hatred took its place, you stuck by Sarah’s side because that’s what best friends did, and Kiara hated you just as much for simply existing in Sarah’s orbit.

But this time felt different. It was summer- yours and Sarah’s time to thrive, yet it’s been radio silent. No texts, no late night facetimes, or sneaking out on the Druthers to get tipsy with nothing but each other and the sun. It’s not like you didn’t have other friends, you did and you’d been making the most of your summer break, but over 2 weeks without even speaking to your best friend felt plain wrong. And you knew it wasn’t just you, no one else in your group had heard from her either. You would have put out an amber alert if not for the small glimpses - her car driving off in the rear-view, the Druthers sailing in an opposite direction, her laugh floating away in the wind. 

And that’s when the rumours started. Sarah Cameron spotted off with the pogues. Possibly even dating the pogue president himself, John B Routledge. And then you caught glimpses of her on smaller boats, closer to a canoe than a yacht. But still you tried to reach out; sent out texts that went unanswered, calls that went to voicemail. All of which only making you feel more like the annoying, clingy girlfriend that couldn’t catch a hint, so you decided to go on with your summer without her - for the first time ever. 

However, that is easier said than done when your families are so closely intertwined. Over the last 2 weeks you had gone to more family dinners with the Cameron’s than Sarah herself, and it turns out that these dinners where actually pretty dull without your best friend to sneak sips of wine with and roll your eyes at the drone of endless business talk. 

You were sat in the Cameron’s backyard, again, your families spattered around the patio dining table, lit only by the fading sun and the faintest glimmer of the outside fairy lights starting to turn on. Ward and your dad sat at either end, rattling off costs, margins and profits from their latest deals, while Rose and your mother nodded along while also attempting to plan their next charity fundraiser. Wheezie and your little brother, Miles, were talking about some youtuber they’re newly obsessed with, whispering over their phones. Which left you with the eldest Cameron, Rafe. He sat opposite you in his chair, trying not to slouch, but as the dinner drawled on you watched his shoulders sink lower and you could tell he was having just about as much fun as you were, except he had to at least be pretending to listen to the shop talk, nodding along whenever Ward caught his eye. You knock your foot into his under the table, making his eyes dart to yours.

“I’m surprised you’re here, Kelce said he was having the guys round tonight.” You start, taking a small sip from your glass.

“Nah, wasn’t feeling it.” Rafe shrugs, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

“Rafe Cameron turning down a beer, someone should alert the media.” You dramatically gasp, amusement swirling in your eyes as Rafe rolls his.

“Ha ha.” Rafe sarcastically drawls, “I was told it was important for business that I show up.” He murmurs causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. “Yeah, that was my reaction too.” You let out a small giggle at that, and a smile kinked at Rafe’s mouth before he could contain it.

“y/n would love to help with that, wouldn’t you sweetie?” Your mother's voice drags you out of your bubble, the lingering silence causing you to clear your throat.

“Um, help with what?” You ask with an internal wince.

“Wheezie still needs a dress for midsummers and I just don’t have time. I don’t want to leave it to the last minute in case it needs tailoring. Your mom said you could take her with you when you get yours.” Rose explains with a hopeful smile. Relief fills your system – shopping with Wheezie is a piece of cake and since the dress shopping plans you had with Sarah are highly unlikely to happen.

“Oh of course – I’d love that.” You smile turning to Wheezie to see her mirroring your grin.

“You are a lifesaver y/n.” Rose sighs, sitting back in her chair with a glass of wine.

“Make sure you take my card, y/n. Get your dress on it too as a thank you.” Ward adds warmly, nodding to you.

“You really don’t have to.” You try to interject but Ward simply ignores you, already pulling out his wallet and passing his card over to you. “Well, if you insist.” You relent, shooting Wheezie a teasing wink. “So what do you think Wheez, Chanel for midsummers?”

“Y/n.” Your dad warns from the other end of the table, making you shrink slightly as you hold up your hands in surrender.

“Kidding.” You murmur with a sip of your drink, catching Rafe’s eye again as he sends you a smirk.

After everyone's finished their meals, it was you and Rafe on duty to clear the table, you let out a sigh of relief as you step foot into the cool air of the kitchen, the humid Carolina evening making your skin glow and hair stick to the back of your neck.

“Why do they always make us eat outside? I’m going to have a million bug bites.” You huff as you drop the plates off by the sink, gathering your hair into a ponytail in your hand, drawing it away from your sticky skin. You let your head fall forward slightly and eyes close as the cool AC air soothes your sun-warmed skin. 

“He spent the winter redoing the patio, got to show it off.” Rafe drawls as he follows you in. He stops a few steps behind you, taking a moment to eye your already tanned skin, his eyes wander over your body perfectly wrapped in the pale sundress, down your legs to the glimmer of an anklet dangling down to your heeled sandals. His reverie is broken as you let your blown out hair fall back down your back and hop up onto the counter. Rafe clears his throat, attempting to break the spell you seemed to cast over him, but as he passes you he gets hit by the soft cloud of warm amber and coconut. He drops his plates into the sink and haphazardly runs the tap while his eyes crawl back to you, as you seem lost in a daze worlds away from here, your eyes focused on the front door.

“She’s not coming, hasn’t been home in a few days.” Rafe advises, watching your eyes flutter back into focus.

“Yeah, I guessed.” You murmur back, straightening out the skirt of your dress to keep your hands busy.

“She still not talking to you?” Rafe asks with less teasing in his tone than you expected. Your eyes move over to him, eyeing him carefully.

“How did you know?”

“You wouldn’t hang around Topper this much if you had a choice.” He jokes, his usual smirk gracing his features. Your foot darts out pushing him back playfully.

“I have a choice.” You protest, Rafe shoots you a disbelieving look in return. “The other one is just being by myself and that’s depressing.” You continue, pulling a laugh from his chest that brings a smile to your face. You both settle into a comfortable silence as you swing your legs back and forth, not wanting to go back outside, and Rafe turns off the tap.

“She’ll come back around. There’s no way she’s ditching you for some pogues.” Rafe scoffs as he turns to you fully, his arms brushing your knees.

“Seems like she already has.”

[caprisunzz]

don’t you

steve harrington x gn!reader • established relationship

♫ don’t you (forget about me) - simple minds ♫

masterlist ♡

the chime of the entry bell welcomes you into the familiar family video store. it’s become a ritual to walk to family video after your shift at the nearby convenience store every friday evening. you walk straight to the front desk, past one lingering customer, and slap the polished wood. “the service in this place is terrible!” you exclaim with faux annoyance, turning the attention of robin away from a computer screen.

“yeah, yeah. what do you want?” robin’s plain tone alerts the only other customer at the side of the counter, causing his eyebrows to raise. the customer returns to talking to steve, but steve’s gaze lingers on you. he smiles briefly, winks, and continues to help the customer.

you pull a package of skittles from your pocket. “for you.” you bow your head playfully. part of your tradition is to bring robin skittles from the convenience store (which wasn’t initially the plan, but robin was persistent).

robin takes the package and opens it, eating several skittles without a concern for the two customers in the store watching. “the sugar will get me through this closing shift, it’s been so boring.” robin leans against the counter, suddenly knitting her eyebrows together and lowering her volume. “how are you feeling?”

you lay your elbows on the counter, chin resting in one of your hands. both you and max are targeted by vecna, only finding out a few days prior. the kids watch over max, but you convinced the group to let you work a few shifts, as you’d be surrounded by other people and you wanted to keep some aspects of your life somewhat normal. steve and robin were just next door. “i’m doing alright,” you answer, and you flash a small smile to ease robin’s concern. robin silently offers you a skittle, which you accept.

the customers leave the store together with one vhs tape hand-in-hand, causing the chime of the door to ring. now that the store is empty (though, that wouldn’t have stopped him anyway), steve comes around the counter and wraps his arms around your waist from behind, kissing your cheek. robin fake gags (though a small smile spreads at the glee on your face) and returns to a computer while periodically eating skittles. you turn in steve’s arms to face him, your arms lazily around his neck, and he presses a small kiss on your lips. “how was work?”

you shrug. “same old store. i only dealt with one creepy old guy today,” you exclaim, faux excitement dripping.

steve rolls his eyes. “you can always come work here. if there was a guy bothering you, i’d be here.” you push his shoulder before steve glances at the time. “it was a slow day, but i have something to finish in the back. would you pick out a movie? i’ve already bought the popcorn.”

you nod, a wide grin spreading at the freedom of choice steve’s given you. “i have clothes at your house, right?” steve would normally drive you home after your friday movie night, but with recent events and his parents out of town (again), you feel safer staying with him.

“even if you don’t, you can borrow something.” steve suddenly leans in, whispering, “how are you feeling?”

you place a hand on his cheek, trying to reassure him. “stop worrying baby, i’m doing okay. no headaches today, no clock chimes.” you lean in to kiss him. “i’ll tell you the second something feels off, i promise.”

steve thinks for a moment, eyes flitting around your face before nodding and squeezing your arms. “i’ll be back in a few.” steve goes behind the counter once more, opening the door to the back. “pick something good!”

you walk towards the familiar section of popular movies, the display nearest the window. sunlight beams through and lights the tapes naturally. you pick two tapes from the display as you walk along the window, looking for something to catch your eye. as the display ends, a figure suddenly appears around the corner. “shit!” you yell, jumping back. the figure stops moving, it was steve standing several feet away from you with his hands up. “steve! you scared me,” you walk closer to him, clutching the tapes to your chest as he apologizes. “that didn’t take very long. you could’ve helped me pick out a movie.”

steve brushes your comment off. “it was something small, what did you pick out?” he drapes his arm across your shoulders with his hand on your left arm facing away from the window.

you proudly hold out the tapes in front of both of you. “it’s between the breakfast club and back to the future, but i’m leaning towards the breakfast club! thoughts?”

steve huffs. “are there any other choices? i feel like we only watch these movies.”

your eyebrows furrow. “you picked out the movie the last few weeks, and we haven’t watched the breakfast club in so long! it’s so good, stevie, and it was our first date!”

sighing, steve mutters, “alright, whatever.”

you try to fully face him, but his arm holds onto your shoulder. “why are you being like this? you asked me to pick out the movie tonight.”

“so i’m not allowed to have any say in anything?” steve’s tone raises, slowly creeping to the point of yelling. “you’re so controlling, always calling the shots. i don’t need another parent.”

“what the hell is wrong with you? you’re acting like a child,” you match his tone and try to back away from him. however, steve’s grip on your shoulder tightens, fingernails beginning to dig through your sleeve. “steve, you’re hurting me.” the tapes slip through your grasp, clattering to the floor, and you grab the hand on your shoulder. looking back at steve, your stomach drops. his face is spread into a wide smile. the lighting from the window dims, clouds rolling in the sky which cast dancing grey and red shadows. you look to the front desk, but robin isn’t there. the large monitors are smashed or missing, and the polished wood is dirty and stained. the store is completely devoid of life.

panic seeps in your veins, adrenaline rushing through you. you were only ever warned about the upside down, never actually venturing into it. steve never wanted to drag you into this part of his hawkins life, but somehow, you ended up here anyway. you body moves before you can think, elbowing “steve” in the throat with your right arm. his grip falters just enough for you to finally back away. you push open the doors, and sprint through the black and red darkness. you look back at the family video only to see a creature stalking forward. the creature you presume to be vecna, the one that max has witnessed. the one hunting you.

with the minimal light that the upside down hawkins provides, you try your best to navigate through the rubble in the streets, past the crumbling buildings that only mirror the joy of the town. black vines slither and invade upturned, decomposing cars, some attempting to catch your feet. with every panicked breath you take, foreign particles and dust enter your burning lungs.

when your legs can’t take you further and your lungs are on fire, you hide behind a chunk of rubble that formerly belonged to a building. you lean the back of your head on the stone, evening your breaths and listening for following footsteps. however, your racing heartbeat blocks out any trace of you being followed. you open your eyes only to see an ominous red cloud in front of you. peeking behind the rubble, vecna approaches, leaving you to run into the cloud.

this new landscape doesn’t resemble hawkins. instead, structures float in a red sky, towers of vines keeping the theme of red-and-black. a clock chimes, and now you’re trapped in vecna’s mindscape.

“you’re not supposed to be here.” vecna’s voice booms as he joins you. “there is nowhere else to run, my dear.” vecna’s hand raises, causing a tower of vines to come apart, launching straight for your limbs. “no one to save you.” the vines pull you into a tower, and you see two mangled corpses in the same position. you try to squirm, but your attempts only amuse vecna. “you will be my third, then maxine my fourth. a true poem.” a large hand enhanced with long claws lifts in front of your face, power emanating from his scarred and burned flesh. it feels as if he's draining you of life, forcefully pulling at your body with just his mind. the pounding of your head and rushing filling your ears are interrupted by a distant but familiar guitar introduction. it sounds like it’s coming from miles away, yet you still hear it.

won't you come see about me?

i'll be alone, dancing, you know it, baby

steve throws his despised scoops ahoy hat on the breakroom table, striding towards you confidently. he wraps an arm around your waist, leading you to the mall theater. “you didn’t have to leave your shift, you’ll get in trouble. we could’ve just rescheduled.”

steve shakes his head, reaching into the pocket of his tacky shorts to pay for the tickets. “i’ll take any punishment, it’s worth it.” you smile, looking down to hide your flushed face from steve. it was only your first date, but you already felt enamored. you sit next to steve, waiting for the breakfast club to start playing.

tell me your troubles and doubts

giving me everything inside and out

you visited scoops ahoy too often, always just to see steve. you joined in with robin messing with your boyfriend in the breakroom, which you were definitely not supposed to be in. when the familiar song would play on the radio, you would sing along and dance playfully, steve joining you. robin would join occasionally if she was in a good mood.

steve would play the song in his car, annoying the kids while you and him bob your head and sing along. they would groan at any physical interaction between the two of you, but you couldn’t care less. steve insisted that this was the tax for being their driver.

love's strange, so real in the dark

think of the tender things that we were working on

you’re stargazing with steve, sitting next to him on the hood of his car. you’re alone in the middle of a meadow that steve drove into, him insisting that it would be romantic. your song plays softly in the background from his car stereo.

you look at him. he’s illuminated by the starlight, hair styled and a wide smile on his face. his eyes glitter with the reflections of stars. you suddenly feel warm with affection, with love. you reach out, intertwining your hand with his and he looks at you. you squeeze his hand, gaining confidence. “i love you.”

the smile on his face will forever stay with you. it was bright, pure joy radiating from him. a light laugh escaped, he embraced you, kissed your head, and told you he loved you to the moon and back.

slow change may pull us apart

when the light gets into your heart, baby

tears spill from your hazy eyes, lining your cheeks. “i’m not ready to die,” you wheeze. with all your remaining strength, you reach past vecna’s clawed hand and scratch at his fleshy head until his hold on your falters, allowing you to fall to the ground. flesh residue is stuck under your fingernails.

you run. the only instinct you have is to run. a circle of light calls to you from a distance, the music emanating from the vision. you float just above the floor of family video, next to the display of movies. vhs tapes scatter the floor, steve stands in the midst of them, switching between calling up to you and screaming in another direction, all while holding onto your legs.

adrenaline rushes through you as you run towards the light. vecna attempts to throw rubble and broken items around you, but you keep your eye on the circle of light. you run towards the store, towards the music, towards steve.

don’t you forget about me.

you gasp, gravity claiming your body once again. you never hit the floor, but are caught by steve. he collapses to the floor, clutching you to his chest. his hand is in your hair and his face in the crook of your neck. his nametag on his vest digs into you, but you don’t care. you wrap yourself around him, embracing the comfort.

your breathing is unsteady and rapid, lungs still burning. you feel steve’s tears on your neck as he lets himself cry into you. “i thought you were gone.” you kiss his head and breathe him in, a mixture of his cologne and hair products.

the front doors of the store slam shut and another pair of arms wraps around you and steve. “you were in the air!” robin isn’t crying, but deeply panicked. you can tell she had been scrambling by her disheveled uniform and hair.

you lift your head to look at them, steve meeting your gaze but still clutching you. “i’m so sorry,” your voice is hoarse, as if you were screaming. “i thought i was getting better.” you notice that the song is still playing, but muffled. “how did..?” steve’s car is pulled as close to the front door as possible without breaking anything, the car door swung open and stereo blasting “don’t you (forget about me).”

“nancy and i figured out that music helps.”

“we didn’t know if it would work, but we had to try. i had the tape for your song in my car, so i drove as close as possible and robin held open the front door to let the music in.”

“you guys should definitely buy a walkman.” you laugh lightly, bringing a smile to steve’s face.

“that will be our first stop.”

you and steve leave together after saying goodbye to robin, ensuring that you will be with steve and have a walkman ready. you sit in the passenger seat of steve’s car, “don’t you” playing on loop. steve has one hand on the wheel and his other intertwined with yours. with your gaze stuck watching the familiar town, not the hauntingly decrepit version, breathing steadily and listening to the song. the breakfast club sits in a bag along with a brand new walkman and cassette tape.

steve squeezes your hand, making you look at him. “what happened?” he asks gently. his eyes stick to the road, but his eyebrows are furrowed.

“i was just in the store picking out a movie, and you appeared. but it wasn’t you, you kept saying i was too controlling and you were clutching my shoulder,” your right hand ghosts over your shoulder. there’s no physical pain or bruising, but a lingering phantom stays with you in the form of the memory. steve’s eyes flit to you, concerned but stays silent, allowing you to continue your recollection. “i knew it wasn’t you, so i ran. vecna was there, he took the form of you. he chased me through the upside down hawkins. i thought i was going to die until i heard the song.” you squeeze steve’s hand and wipe your tears with your sleeve. “memories flooded me. i thought of our first date, listening to the song together, stargazing. i didn’t want to die, so i ran into the light, to you.”

“shit, sweetheart. we tried robin’s idea as soon as she said it. she was screaming for me, she’s the one who found you frozen. your eyes were rolled back and you were unresponsive to robin shaking you.” steve pulls into his driveway, leaving the car and quickly opening the passenger door to help you out. he grabs the bag from your feet. “i should’ve stayed with you. i knew that you were targeted, but i left you alone.”

“steve, this is in no way your fault. i’m okay, see?” you pull his free hand to your chest, above your heartbeat. steve’s head drops to look at the concrete driveway, but you lift his chin up and kiss him lightly. “let’s go inside and watch the movie. i believe i was promised popcorn.”

steve laughs for the first time in hours, holding your hand with the bag on his arm. he unlocks the front door, leading you in before locking it behind him. he drops the bag on the kitchen counter, pulling you in tightly. “i love you so much,” steve whispers and kisses your head.

“and i love you.”

[caprisunzz]

Bunny (P16)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: Well well well- guess whose back. Thought I'd do a little surprise drop just for the plot BAHAHAH. Lets see, more drama obviously cause our girl cant catch a break, more domestic bunny and rafe and a little special feature for our girl Naomi cause I've missed her. I love Sarah Cameron. As the end of the series draws nearer I lowkey feel kinda emotional, I feel like nothings ever gonna beat rafe and bunny for me. 1 more chapter after this to go my loves x

warnings: allusions to sex, angst, violence (yelling/arguing) (jj pmo), mentions of past abuse (bruises ect), soft!rafe and Soft!bunny (they're so domestic)

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11) (P12) (P13) (P14) (P15) (P16)

The soft hum of tires against the road was the only sound cutting through the silence inside the twinkie. Sarah sat up front, leaning her elbow against the open window as her fingers tapped against her thigh. Her eyes flicked between the side mirror and John B’s profile. The brunette boy’s hands were tight on the steering wheel very much mirroring the tense mood in the backseat. Pope sat beside JJ, who was slumped against the wall of the van, head resting back, his phone clutched in his hand like it was the only thing keeping him anchored. JJ’s eyes were trained on the screen, scrolling through the messages he’d sent Y/N-  all left on read.

“I’m sorry I should’ve said something”

“I should’ve stopped him”

“I was just in shock”

“Come home”

“You're still my sister no matter what”

“I love you”

He blinked hard, jaw tightening as he shoved the heel of his palm against his eye, like he could push down the sting building behind it. “C’mon, man,” Pope said quietly, nudging him with his shoulder. 

“You’ve been moping for two days straight.”

“I’m not moping,” JJ muttered.

“You’re definitely moping” 

Sarah piped up from the front seat, not turning around. “You haven’t said a word since we left the Chateau.” “I just…” JJ sighed finally shifting upright, placing his hands into the floor of the van and pushing himself up slightly,

“I don’t get how she could cut us off like this.”

“She’s not thinking like that,” Pope said gently. “She just needs time. After everything with your dad and Rafe-”

“-don’t say his name” 

JJ snapped, a little too quickly. His voice cracked with it and he clenched his jaw and turned his face back toward the window. Pope leaned forward a bit, trying to bridge the gap. 

“Look, we’re gonna grab Sarah’s stuff, then we’ll look for her. Maybe she just… needed space? That doesn’t mean she’s gone forever dude.”

JJ didn’t respond, just glanced back down at his phone, the screen dark now.

No new notifications

No answer from her

The Twinkie came to a slow stop outside the metal gates, the loud rattle of the van’s engine stark against the immaculate house before them. Inside the van, Kiara leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the grand front entrance.

“You still got the key?” 

She asked, glancing at Sarah. The blonde girl pulled her tote bag into her lap and rummaged through it, the jingle of metal briefly filling the space before she held up a single key. 

“Yeah I do.”

“What if he’s changed the locks?”

Cleo raised a brow from the back, arms crossed. Sarah let out an unimpressed scoff, already opening her door. 

“I’d like to think he’s not that petty.”

From the driver’s seat, John B snorted. “Yeah right, you’ve clearly never met him”

Sarah shot him a dry stare as she swung her legs out the door and hopped out. The rest of the group followed- door creaking, feet hitting the pavement, the usual shuffling of trainers on the floor. Once she was facing the tall front gate Sarah paused, then turned, arms folded tight across her chest, scanning the group all lined up behind her.

“You’re all coming?!”

The rest of them exchanged a look, a quick unspoken conversation bouncing between the Pogues like a game of mental ping-pong. Then John B stepped forward with a shrug.

“Uh… yeah?”

Kiara raised a brow, “What, you thought we were gonna just sit in the van like unpaid Uber drivers... ?”

Sarah stood at the tall black gate, her fingers punching in the familiar code on the silver keypad. A faint beep… then a soft click. The gate creaked open slowly, and she gave it a push, slipping through the gap as the others quietly followed behind her one by one. JJ paused just before crossing the threshold, glancing up at the looming house beyond the hedges. He swallowed hard, thumb still brushing the corner of his phone screen inside his pocket.

The six of them walked in a tight, quiet cluster up the long cobblestone driveway. The sound of gravel crunching under their shoes was the only thing breaking the silence. Sarah looked over her shoulder, voice low but firm.

“Okay, just- keep quiet. I don’t know if he’s home.”

Pope turned back slightly toward JJ, who was trailing behind the group, his gaze flicking up toward the house’s tall windows. “You good?” Pope murmured but JJ didn’t answer at first.

It was his fault that all of this had happened. 

His fault Y/N had gone radio silent and disappeared without a word. 

His fault she was even in this mess to begin with.

JJ could feel it- this sharp, burning fury crawling up the back of his throat and settling heavy in his chest just at the thought of him. He swallowed it down, his jaw tight and his fingers twitching with the urge to hit something. 

Anything. 

Him.

His hand clenched briefly, then he gave Pope a stiff nod before looking back to Sarah who was already climbing the few steps to the grand double doors, her fingers gripping the key. She turned back to them one more time.

“Last chance to turn around.”

Cleo gave her a look, “We already broke in- might as well finish the job.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning light crept slowly across the living room, golden rays spilling in through the sheer curtains. It stretched across the floorboards and kissed the edge of the couch before it climbed its way up and reached them tangled together in their sleep. Y/N was still curled on Rafe’s chest, her cheek pressed to his bare skin- the slow rise and fall of his breathing lulling her deeper into rest. The blanket they’d pulled over themselves sometime in the night had slipped down to their waists leaving their upper bodies exposed to the warmth of the sun. His hand, large and steady, remained protectively across her back, holding her to him even in sleep.

However their soft morning stillness was soon broken.

Rafe stirred first his brow furrowing as a sound reached him through the haze of sleep; the faint, unmistakable rattle of a door handle being twisted repeatedly, followed by the subtle click of a lock. His eyes snapped open fully now and he sat up slowly, his hand still staying firm against Y/N’s back to support her where she lay curled against him. For a second, he held his breath and listened.

Another click.

Then the quiet creak of the front door swinging open.

Y/N shifted against him at the sudden movement, her lashes fluttering before her voice mumbled groggy with sleep, 

“What’s going on…?”

“I don’t know, I-” Rafe’s voice was still thick with sleep but before he could finish muffled voices echoed from the front of the house, indistinct at first but quickly growing clearer.

“Just shut up guys, c’mon”

“Ow! John B- that’s my foot!” 

“Why are you literally standing on my ass then Kie?”

Y/N went rigid on his chest as she sat up and turned her wide, panicked eyes toward Rafe. All the colour drained from her face. Her voice came out in a frantic whisper, 

“What are they doing here?!”

Rafe was already sitting up, scanning the room with quick eyes the sleepy fog gone in an instant.

“C’mon” 

He hissed under his breath. Y/N sat up fast, clutching the blanket to her chest as her heart thundered in her ribcage. They scrambled, hands, fabric and limbs moving in frantic coordination. She chucked his sweatpants at him as he stood, pulling them on in one rough motion, still shirtless. She whisper-yelled, glancing around in panic.

“Where the fuck did you throw my clothes?!” 

“I don’t know- Jesus, I wasn’t exactly thinking about where I tossed them at the time!” 

Rafe whispered back, eyes sweeping the room. She let out a sharp breath, the blanket still wrapped tight around her like a towel, standing barefoot in the middle of the sudden chaos that their peaceful morning had escalated to. Her bra was nowhere in sight. Her jeans- gone.

And her panties?

She spotted them thrown over the lampshade by the couch. 

Of course

Rafe was halfway across the room, crouched behind the coffee table when the sound of footsteps grew louder before coming to a sudden stop and when Y/N whipped around to look in the direction of the sound,

Sarah was standing there having stopped dead in her tracks.

Her eyes landed on Y/N, wrapped in nothing but a blanket and then flicked to Rafe, shirtless and breathless. Her mouth dropped open.

“Oh my god.”

The room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. Y/N’s eyes went wide as Sarah blinked unmoving, once then twice like her brain was rebooting. They were all just standing there- frozen in a silence so thick it was becoming suffocating. Y/N’s fingers clenched tighter around the blanket at her chest and Rafe’s shoulders were tense, his jaw locked. Sarah looked like she’d just walked into an alternate universe, eyes flicking between the two of them, lips parted like she didn’t know what to say first. Rafe’s sharp voice broke the silence, 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I- I was just-”

Sarah’s lips moved but no more sound came out. She blinked again as she took a breath to speak but then a voice cut through the tension, whisper echoing in from the hallway with a clueless lilt.

“Hey Sarah, where’d you go…?”

Y/N froze.

No

No no no—

Her heart stopped cold.

She didn’t even have time to react before JJ rounded the corner. His steps slowed the second he saw them, his sister and Rafe; half-dressed, clothes scattered on the floor, the blanket wrapped around her, Rafe shirtless, her bra- right fucking there- thrown over the back of the couch. JJ’s entire body stiffened as his eyes locked on her, then Rafe, then down to the floor and back up again and then his face twisted.

“What the fuck.”

“Jay—” Y/N stepped forward instinctively, her voice breathless as she reached a hand out. 

“It’s not what it looks like-”

“-not what it looks like?” he scoffed.

“Are you serious right now?”

His voice cracked around the edges, a mix of rage and betrayal bleeding through every syllable that left his mouth. His chest rose and fell in quick, angry breaths as he stared at his sister- the one who’d ghosted him for two days, ignored his texts and had his heart breaking- and now had Rafe fucking Cameron standing next to her. “You disappeared,” he spat. 

“You don’t answer me and this is why?”

“JJ-” Rafe warned, stepping forward slightly but JJ’s glare whipped to him like fire catching gasoline.

“Don’t fucking talk to me.”

“Stop it, okay?” 

Y/N suddenly snapped, stepping into the wide space between them before JJ could say anything more. Her voice trembled slightly but there was still sternness in her tone,

“You have no idea what’s going on.”

JJ let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head like she was actually insane. He spoke out, arms outstretched mockingly to gesture between Y/N and the boy standing next to her, his voice dripping in sarcasm. 

“Oh I’m pretty sure I know exactly what’s going on” 

“Excuse me?”

Y/N’s jaw clenched but JJ didn’t seem to hesitate or hold back. He was too angry, too heartbroken, certainly too blindsided by his fury to bite his tongue.

“Looks like what Dad said was right.”

The words hit her like a slap and her breath caught in her throat, the blanket still clutched in her fingers, but looser now. Her lips parted, but she didn’t say anything because she knew exactly what JJ meant. Those words- those vile, disgusting things her father screamed at her before he kicked her out- they were still fresh in her mind, still echoing in her skull on loop. And now JJ, her own brother, was throwing them in her face too? Her chest tightened and the burn started behind her eyes before she could stop it. There was a sudden sound of shuffling growing louder in the hallway, before the rest of the Pogues walked in, their eyes landing on the scene in front of them. Pope slowed confused, and Cleo and Kiara’s brows furrowed. But John B took one look at Y/N’s tear-filled eyes and JJ practically vibrating with rage a few feet opposite her and he muttered under his breath quietly but unmistakably clear-

“Oh shit.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened when he saw her. Y/N’s eyes were glassy, her hand trembling slightly where it clutched the blanket against her chest and her shoulders had drawn in, like she was trying to make herself smaller. She wasn't going to be treated like this, not in front of him under his roof. “Alright,” Rafe muttered stepping forward slowly and dangerously calm, 

“You need to leave.”

“Get the fuck outta my face” 

JJ spat his eyes snapped to Rafe, shoving him back with both hands. Rafe stumbled a step, but the fury that flashed in his eyes was immediate. John B’s voice cut in, trying to de-escalate the sudden storm that had erupted in the room, 

“Okay man, I think we should-”

“No!” JJ barked spinning toward him. 

“NO! I’m not fucking leaving, alright?!”

Then he turned back on his heel to Y/N, stepping toward her with betrayal bleeding out of every pore. He jabbed his finger in her direction angrily,

“I can’t fucking believe you would do this to me! Seriously?! After everything that we’ve- he’s tormented us for years, and now you’re here- what- sucking his dick?!”

Y/N shook her head in disbelief backing away a step, her bare feet quiet against the hardwood. She felt like the wind had been punched out of her lungs. “Hey!” Rafe shouted, stepping between them like a shield. 

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

And then- he shoved JJ, hard. The blonde Pogue stumbled back, his chest still heaving. It looked like he was ready to throw a punch back in the Kook’s direction but then Y/N’s voice cracked through the standoff, pleading and desperate.

“JJ that’s not what this is, I swear- just listen to me please”

Her voice was breaking now, tears slipping down her cheeks despite her best effort to swallow them down. Her eyes bounced between the two boys, panic setting in as it all spiraled out of control. John B took JJ by the arm, yanking him back before anything worse could happen.

“Just chill out.” 

He muttered harshly under his breath, glancing toward the others. Pope was already stepping in too, grabbing JJ’s other side with a firm hand. 

“C’mon calm down.”

But Rafe wasn’t paying attention to them, instead his body was angled blocking Y/N from JJ’s view. His hand gently found her back, trying to ground her as she appeared visibly shook, her breaths short and quick. Sarah stood frozen near the doorway, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, this was her fault. She brought them here. She didn’t even think about the possibility of her being here. JJ shrugged both boys off with a rough jerk of his shoulders and suddenly, his voice cracked through the air again like a whip, 

“You’re not a Maybank, you know that?”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, her voice small and cracking, “what… what are you talking about?”

“A Maybank would never betray their own blood” 

JJ’s eyes were glossy now too and Y/N flinched like he’d hit her. Her lips parted trembling, her whole body shivering despite the blanket still clutched around her. 

“Jay I love you, you're still my broth-” 

Her voice broke as small sobs bubbled out of her chest now, no longer hidden. Her throat felt raw. Rafe turned instantly, cupping her cheek and whispering urgently shielding her from the looks of the rest of them.

 “Hey, hey- shh- it’s okay, it’s okay” 

In the back Kiara was already pushing past Pope and John B, her palm landing square on JJ’s chest with force. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she hissed. “That’s your sister— what the hell are you doing?!” JJ’s jaw was clenched, fists balled at his sides, his eyes bore into Y/N, who was curled slightly into Rafe now, like she was a stranger.

"Guess selling yourself came easier than telling me the truth"

Y/N let out the softest, broken gasp- a wounded sound that barely passed her lips. Rafe stiffened, his entire body went rigid, jaw clenched and he turned on his heel so fast it startled even Cleo.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!” 

Rafe’s voice boomed through the room like thunder. 

“NOW!”

JJ didn’t flinch, he didn’t move either but John B and Pope didn’t wait. They grabbed him- each taking one arm- dragging him back toward the hall as he thrashed back against them, with gritted teeth and burning eyes.

“Let me go- fuck- LET GO OF ME-”

They’d already pulled him out, and his shouting faded into muffled echoes down the corridor. The front door slammed and silence followed. Y/N was shaking in Rafe’s arms, hands fisted in the material of the blanket around her. He just held her tighter, his hand cradling the back of her head, the other rubbing soothing circles down her spine. Behind them, Sarah stood still, guilt choking her. “Rafe,” she said quietly, voice breaking. 

“I didn’t know. I swear- I didn’t know this was going to happen. I didn’t even know she was here- I’m sorry, I-”

Rafe sighed, long and slow, his hand never leaving Y/N’s back. He glanced over his shoulder tired, 

“Sarah… just go.”

Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat, gave one last look at Y/N crumpled against him, then turned and walked out without another word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe’s bedroom was dim and quiet, except for the low hum of the fan overhead and the occasional rustle of sheets as Y/N shifted beneath them. She laid on the large queen-size mattress, an oversized t-shirt of his covering her frame. The door creaked open gently and Rafe stepped in, balancing a mug firmly in his hand. He murmured, setting it down on the bedside table with a soft clink.

“Brought you something,” 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head, then he sank onto the bed beside her, laying on his side to face her, his head resting in the palm of his hand, elbow propped up on the cushions. Y/N blinked at him through her lashes before turning to properly look at him, her voice still somewhat hoarse but nevertheless teasing. 

“I didn’t know Rafe Cameron knew how to make tea.”

“Yeah well, I’d learn how to make that weird green drink you like if you wanted.”

Her brow lifted as he gave her a smile.

“Matcha?”

“That thing.” 

He nodded like it was some foreign concept, not that he drank anything outside of black coffee. Her smile cracked through her exhaustion and Rafe watched her carefully for a second before brushing a hand against her arm, fingers sliding up and down the exposed skin, soft to the touch.

“You okay?”

She hesitated, her lips parting as if the answer was trying to form, but never quite managed to get out. “Yeah, I guess I just…” Finally, she let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how I expected him to find out but… that wasn’t it.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

Rafe’s expression dimmed and he kissed his teeth before letting out a deep breath himself. She shook her head immediately, voice gentle.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Well…. I sorta think it is.”

Y/N shuffled herself closer towards him, propping her own elbow against the pillow, letting her rest her head on her hand. Her eyes met his and she tilted her head a little before humming as though deep in though, 

“Hmmm… that’s a little awkward then”

That pulled a soft laugh out of him, “Yeah, just a bit.”

They laid there like that for a beat before slowly, like he couldn't help himself, he pushed forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. His hand came up to cradle her cheek, thumb brushing over the skin just beneath her eye. When he pulled back, his eyes flickered down to the fading bruise along her cheekbone,

"It looks better."

She nodded slowly, lips pressing together, “Mmhmm.” But her eyes were distant, like her mind was still somewhere back in that living room. Rafe stayed close, his hand still holding her face like he was anchoring her to the present. His thumb gently traced over the curve of her jaw.

"You can talk to me" 

He said after a moment. She didn’t respond right away. Just leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as her fingers curled lightly in the fabric of his t-shirt. Then she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper, "He looked at me like I was a stranger." Rafe’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t say anything. Just let her speak, his thumb brushing slowly across her cheek. "It’s not even what he said. Not really. It’s just-" her throat tightened, 

"He meant it."

Silence settled again, thick and aching. Rafe shifted slightly closer, pressing a kiss to her temple as he let out a small sigh,

"He was hurt and angry- not that I'm defending him- but people say dumb shit when they’re angry"

"I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me."

Rafe was quiet, watching the girl as she sat up and brought her hand up to run over the arch of her brow. He sat up on the bed himself, back comfortably against the headboard as he spoke out,

"Then he’s not who you thought he was."

"He’s my baby Rafe."

Her voice was soft and breaking as she spoke, eyes glassed over again as she pulled her knees up, looping her arms around them. "I brought him up. Ever since he was a little blonde-haired toddler. I’ve looked after him, protected him- God, I used to wipe his nose and teach him how to tie his laces. I just..." She dropped her head into her palm, elbow resting against her knee her voice nearly a whisper now,

"I just want my baby back."

Rafe didn’t say anything right away. He just reached over and rested a hand on her back, rubbing slow, steady circles like he was trying to ease an invisible ache he couldn’t fix. "He’s still your baby" he murmured eventually.

"Give him time, he’ll come around."

Her eyes lifted, full of doubt, "And if he doesn’t?" 

"You still have me."

He added the words gently, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he glanced at her. She couldn’t help it, a tiny smile bloomed on her lips too, and she nudged her shoulder into his, their arms brushing. "Well gee," she murmured, tilting her head toward him, 

"Isn’t that an upgrade."

Rafe huffed out a low laugh, his eyebrows raising, "Damn right it is," he shot back with a smirk. 

"I make you tea"

"Oh yeah, the bare minimum. You’re really setting the bar high Rafe."

Rafe smirked, then without a word, slipped his arm around her waist and gently tugged her down with him until she was lying flat against his chest. She let out a soft surprised laugh, the breath leaving her lungs as she landed against him. He looked down at her and pressed a slow, tender kiss to her lips. 

"Only the best for my girl" 

He murmured against her mouth and she giggled softly, her fingers curling in the fabric of his t-shirt. It felt safe, easy even, but then his tone shifted, not necessarily heavy but more serious. "Speaking of that..." Her smile faltered just a little as she pulled back enough to look up at him, brow furrowing slightly.

"What...?"

He paused just for a beat  and she felt the subtle tension in his chest beneath her. "Since you're living with me now..." He trailed off again and she stayed quiet, giving him the space to speak.

"...I need you to do something for me."

She blinked her voice gentle, "Anything you want."

His jaw flexed once, he looked like he was chewing on it,  the words, the timing, the fear of saying the wrong thing to her and fucking it all up again. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and said it voice low but steady:

"I want you to stop working at the strip club."

For a second, she didn't respond. Her brows knit tighter together as she lifted herself a little more, bracing a hand on the bed beside him.

"What...?"

It wasn’t angry. Just quiet and confused. Like it didn’t compute in her mind. She blinked, eyes searching his face like she hadn’t quite heard him right. “Rafe, I—” But he was already shaking his head,

“I know. I know you don’t wanna depend on me.”

He paused, “and I respect that.” His eyes held hers as he continued, “So you can work at the country club. Hell- pick up something else, I’ll help you look. But just…” he swallowed, voice thickening slightly. 

“Please. No more dancing.” 

She sat up fully, still facing him, legs folded under herself now as she looked at him with something close to disbelief. Not irritation, just shock and surprise.

“Are you being serious...?” 

Her voice cracked a little at the end. It wasn’t judgmental, not even hesitant- just stunned. Rafe sat up too, shifting so they were eye to eye. “Yeah.” His voice didn’t waver,

“Let me take care of you.”

Her breath caught as he continued,  “You don’t have to work yourself to the bone just to survive anymore, not with me.” His hand moved to hers, threading his fingers gently with hers like he was afraid she’d pull away.

“I know you’re strong and you’ve always figured it out yourself but…” 

She didn’t say anything right away. Just looked down at their hands, her thumb brushing across his knuckles and then, quietly, almost like a whisper:

“Okay.”

She leaned forward slowly, 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

A soft smile tugged at her lips and he let out a quiet breath of relief then leaned in, pressing a warm lingering kiss to her lips, his thumb brushing her jaw. When he pulled back, a small smirk replaced the softness. “But… those cute little sets you’ve got-” His voice dropped an octave, playful now.

“You’ll still wear them for me, right?”

She let out an incredulous laugh, shoving him back against the mattress with both hands on his chest.

“You’re gross Cameron.”

He threw his hands up like he was surrendering, innocent of all charges that she was throwing at him, “What? I’m asking a reasonable question…” She bit back a grin as she swung her leg over his lap, settling comfortably against his thighs before leaning down, “Sure,” she murmured against his lips, kissing him again,

“The little sets are only for you now...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N sat tucked into the corner of a cozy little coffee shop, her fingers curled around a warm latte, although it remained untouched as her eyes kept drifting to the table across from her. A young couple sat there, blissfully unaware of anything but their baby. The mom had the little girl perched on her hip, bouncing her gently while the father reached out, making silly faces. The toddler giggled, tiny hands opening and closing as she made eager little grabby hands toward her dad’s face, like she couldn’t get enough of him. Her childish laughter rose above the soft clinking of dishes and quiet conversation around the cafe, a pure sound that made something ache in Y/N’s chest. She blinked, dragging her eyes back to the steam curling up from her drink just in time to hear a voice behind her:

“Well, well, well… look what the cat dragged in.”

Y/N turned, already smiling before she even saw her. Naomi’s arms were crossed, one hip popped out slightly, oversized sunglasses perched on her head and her long acrylics drumming against her bicep. She looked dead serious, her expression tight.

But then she cracked.

“You bitch.” 

She broke into a grin striding forward, Y/N stood up and was immediately wrapped in a tight, vanilla-scented hug. Naomi squeezed her like she meant it, “Hey, ‘Omi,” Y/N mumbled into her shoulder, suddenly breathless from how much she'd missed her. The girl pulled back, holding her at arm’s length.

“I was this close to filing a missing persons case. You had me picturing you dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve just… I’ve been busy.”

Y/N laughed and Naomi raised a brow, sliding into the seat across from her.

“Busy, huh?”

She looked Y/N up and down now, really taking her in; the clean hair, the soft looking oversized sweater, the lack of her brows drawn down in worry like they usually were and she narrowed her eyes slightly, legs crossing at the knee as she folded her arms 

“This better not be 'cause of your little boy toy.”

Y/N went quiet, lips twitching like she was trying not to smile but the attempt didn’t last long. A grin cracked through. Naomi pointed at her triumphantly with a finger, “I knew it. I knewww it.” She tossed her braided hair over her shoulder pridefully,

“I had a feeling, you know, and my feelings are never wrong.”

Y/N laughed under her breath, rubbing a hand over her cheek, the bruise having faded- which she was grateful for as she knew Naomi would be asking questions otherwise.

“Are you mad at me?”

Naomi didn’t answer at first. She reached across the table, slid Y/N’s untouched latte toward herself, and took a slow unbothered sip like it belonged to her. She placed the cup down onto the small plate with a clink and then she looked to her,

“Mad? Why would I be mad at you Bunny?”

“I don’t know… 'cause I just like disappeared without a word?”

Naomi clicked her tongue with a small shake of her head in agreement, “Okay, yeah. I was mad. A little mad.” She held up two fingers, like an inch apart to try to reflect the annoyance she had at the girl, but she quickly waved her hand in Y/N’s direction as she continued, “But I’m not gonna hold it against you girl and besides you’ve seen me mad.” Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line, amused, before speaking out,  

“I’ve seen you drag a man across a bar floor in six-inch heels.”

Naomi sat back, “Mmhmm, so trust me… if I was mad at you, you’d know.”

She picked up the cup again, her fingers wrapping around the warmth of it, took another sip, and gave a little satisfied nod. “Sorry, this is really good.” Y/N watched her, the corners of her eyes crinkling just slightly, that familiar heat blooming behind her ribs. She didn’t realise how much she’d missed this, missed Naomi, until this moment. The way she could cut through all the noise in her head without even trying. Naomi caught her looking and tilted her head.

“Are you gonna drink this or…?”

Y/N shook her head, “It’s all yours.”

Naomi grinned and pulled the cup closer, “Thanks, honey.” She leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, “Sooo…” she started her eyes gleaming like she was bracing for a juicy confession, 

“Did you call me here cause you wanna know the club gossip or-”

“As tempting as that is, no. That’s not why I called you.”

Naomi tilted her head, her earrings catching the light as she gave her a mock squint. “It’s just cause you missed me, right?” Y/N gave her a look and said,

“Mmhmm. Yep. You got me there.”

That earned a full laugh from both of them, loud enough that the couple at the next table gave them a quick glance. A beat passed between them and Naomi took another sip, then glanced down at the cup before saying, “Well... I’ve missed you.” She didn’t say it like a joke, didn’t throw it out there for laughs or deflection. Just said it, quietly like it had been sitting on her chest since the last time they saw each other. Her gaze dropped to the coffee, swirling the liquid around slowly before speaking again.

“You know I don’t do emotions n’shit but... I’ve missed you.”

Y/N felt her throat catch for a second, her fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table. Her voice was gentler when she finally spoke.

“I’ve missed you too.”

Their eyes met again, and for a moment, there was nothing between them; no neon lights, no heavy music, no mirrors or backstage chaos. Just two girls with a quiet understanding of each other. Naomi gave a soft little sniff, then she straightened up, “Okay, enough of the sappy shit.” Her voice returned to its usual sharpness, but the warmth behind her eyes didn’t fade.

“So what’s up? You coming back and wanna know what time slots are free this week?” 

Y/N gave a soft breath of a laugh, but it was tight around the edges. Her gaze dropped to the table, her fingers beginning to tap out a slow rhythm against the wood grain.

“Yeah, um… it’s actually the opposite of that.”

A pause settled between them, heavy and still and then Naomi’s brows lifted slightly.

“... you’re leaving?”

Y/N didn’t speak at first. She just looked at her and then gave a quiet nod. Naomi leaned back slowly in her chair, jaw shifting like she was working through something. Her lips parted, like she might say something but then closed again.  “Damn.” She tilted her head.

“So boy toy is your sugar daddy now, huh?”

“He’s not my sugar daddy.”

Y/N let out a breath of laughter and rolled her eyes, running a fingertip over the arch of her brow. Naomi narrowed her eyes like a lawyer catching someone in a lie mid case.

“Uh-huh. Does he drive a Range Rover?”

Y/N hesitated a second too long.

“…yes?”

That broke whatever tension was left, both of them bursting into giggles once more, Naomi nearly knocking her elbow on the table as she leaned forward and Y/N hiding her face behind her hands to calm herself down, both their stomachs starting to cramp from the laughter.

“That’s what I thought. Sugar. Daddy.”

“Stop you’re embarrassing me” Y/N laughed, kicking lightly at the girl's ankle under the table. 

“He’s just… good to me. That’s all.”

Naomi tilted her head, gaze softening again- less teasing now like she knew the moment deserved more than just jokes. “Good,” she said, her voice quieter. 

“You deserve better than the club anyway.”

Y/N looked at her, throat suddenly tight, the lump forming so fast it startled her. She swallowed it down with a soft breath, eyes lingering on Naomi’s face. “So do you.” Naomi just shook her head with a slow smile tugging at her lips knowingly. “That place is my home,” she murmured. 

“And you know it.”

Y/N nodded, the motion small but full of understanding. She looked at the girl across from her; sharp-eyed, loud-mouthed, ride-or-die attitude. The one who did her lip liner for her backstage when her hands were shaking, who taught her how to count her cash fast and stand her ground even faster. “Well,” she said, her voice softer now, 

“I’m glad that it managed to lure me in.”

“And why’s that exactly?”

“Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you.”

Y/N gave her a small, watery smile and Naomi groaned and tipped her head back dramatically.

“God, don’t be nice to me right now. I’ll cry all over my fake Gucci.”

Y/N laughed through her sniffle and reached across the table, fingers slipping into Naomi’s, palms pressed warm together on the wood of the table top. The girl didn’t pull away, just looked down at their hands, then up at Y/N. Her voice was softer than Y/N had ever heard it.

“I’m proud of you.”

Y/N smiled, a little tremble in it as she tried, really hard, to keep it together. 

“I love you Omi.”

Naomi batted her lashes, her lips quirking upwards, “I know. I’m very lovable.”

Time passed faster than the girls expected as they sat at the table, one latte having turned to three and before they knew it the sky had started to bleed into an orange hue. Naomi let out a long breath, giving Y/N’s hand one last squeeze before letting go, she spoke out her voice light but eyes serious.

“You better come visit”

“Duh- you won’t be able to get rid of me that easily.”

They both stood, half-laughing, half-lingering, until Naomi finally pulled her into a tight hug, not one of their usual playful ones, but something full and real and grounding. The bell jingled above them as they pushed the door open, the cool breeze brushing against their skin. “Get outta here Bunny,” she spoke waving her hand at Y/N dismissively, 

“Go live your domestic dream.”

“Oh shut up” Y/N said, laughing.

“I’m serious!” Naomi added, “and you tell little mr ‘trust fund’ that if he breaks your heart, I’m showing up with my six-inch heels.”

“He won’t.” Y/N’s voice was soft but certain and Naomi looked at her, then nodded. 

“Yeah. I don’t think he will either.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The late afternoon sun poured in through the wide windows of the country club, casting golden light across the polished marble floor. Outside, golfers milled about on the manicured green, their drinks in hand and voices drifting in through the open terrace doors. Inside, it was still pleasant, the weather having gotten warmer as the month progressed. It was quiet, the lull between lunch and dinner when the bar only saw the occasional regulars. Y/N stood behind it, restocking glasses with practiced ease. The air was soft with the scent of freshly cut lemon slices and citrus gin, the low murmur of conversation from a few older members huddled at a corner table the only background noise. She didn’t hear footsteps, but she felt it shift in the atmosphere when someone’s eyes were fixed on you. She straightened, turned toward the presence with a polite smile already in place. “What can I get you?” And then she saw who it was.

“…Oh.” 

Her smile faltered just slightly. 

“Hi- What can I get you?”

Sarah Cameron stood on the other side of the bar, hair pulled back into a loose pony tail, eyes steady on hers. There was no malice in them, just… something unreadable. For a moment Y/N wondered how Sarah had even managed to get in, she was pretty sure Rafe was the only Cameron with a membership.

“Can we talk?” 

Sarah asked plainly, albeit a quiet sense of nervousness could be heard, and Y/N glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at the mostly empty bar. Only three patrons sat at the far end, half-watching the golf tournament on the mounted TV. “Well,” she said, brushing her hands on a bar towel, 

“I’m kind of on the clock right now… but we can talk here.”

“Here’s fine.”

Y/N nodded once as she reached behind her and poured a glass of water, sliding it across the counter toward Sarah like a peace offering. Y/N reached for a dry towel, wiping it across a damp glass with smooth motion. It gave her something to do with her hands, something to focus on while Sarah settled into the stool opposite her. There was a pause, not awkward but thick with whatever Sarah had come here to say. Finally, the blonde girl across the counter spoke. “I, um…” Sarah cleared her throat, resting her elbows on the bar. 

“I’m sorry. For showing up at the house like that. I wasn’t trying to… interrupt anything.”

Y/N gave a small dry laugh, her eyes still focused on the glass in her hands, “You didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Still,” Sarah pressed gently, “I wasn’t trying to catch you off guard. I didn’t know you and my brother were… you know.”

That made Y/N pause for a second, the rhythm of her hands slowing just slightly. “Yeah uh” she murmured, setting the glass down. 

“It’s… recent.”

Sarah nodded, then twisted her fingers together on the bartop.

“I just— I didn’t mean to cause a thing with you and JJ. I didn’t know about any of that, I swear, and after the fight that night, I just kept thinking, like… if I hadn’t come by, maybe things wouldn’t’ve blown up like they did-”

“-Sarah.”

Y/N finally looked up, her face softening and she shook her head once, firmly.

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment and the hum of the golf announcer on the TV drifted lazily in the background. Y/N busied her hands again, reaching for another glass, wiping it clean. Her voice was gentler now when she spoke again.

“Things were already tense with JJ… you just happened to walk in at the wrong time.”

Sarah’s brow furrowed slightly, guilt still resting behind her eyes, but she nodded slowly.

“I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it on purpose. I really didn’t know.”

Y/N gave her a faint, appreciative smile, “I know you didn’t.”

The quiet settled between them again like an unsure fog. Sarah fidgeted with the edge of a paper napkin from the counter, folding and unfolding it absently. Y/N had gone back to cleaning glasses, her movements smooth but just a touch too focused  like she was trying not to feel the heat of Sarah’s gaze as she suddenly spoke,

"Y/N, my brother... he’s not exactly the type to-"

Y/N let out a short breath and cut in, her voice firm but not harsh, "Look, Sarah. If you're here to lecture me about Rafe, I really—" her eyes flicked up, guarded now, 

"I really don't need that. Okay?"

Sarah opened her mouth like she was going to protest, but Y/N kept going.

"I get it. He’s your brother and you’ve seen him at his worst, but so have I.”

She stopped wiping the glass, placed it carefully on the drying mat, and rested both hands on the edge of the bar. Sarah hesitated, then leaned in just slightly, voice quieter now but still threaded with concern.

"I'm sorry but- it's Rafe. I've known him my whole life and he’s never been the type to help people, not unless there’s something in it for him. I’m just worried that maybe he sees you’re in a rough position and he’s just..." she trailed off not finishing the sentence and Y/N blinked slowly at her, jaw tightening. Then she shook her head. "Stop..." she exhaled, eyes flicking downward. 

"Stop"

Her voice cracked just slightly as she pushed the towel aside and her shoulders dropped a little. “No one has helped me the past few months the way he has. No one.” Her eyes draw away from the counter to meet Sarah’s,  

“He’s been there for me in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine. I wouldn’t even be able to tell you because you wouldn’t believe me.”

Sarah’s expression softened at that and she watched her quietly for a beat, lips parted like she might speak. Then her voice came quieter than before,

“Yes I would...”

Y/N looked at Sarah for a long moment. And all she could see was a girl who was open, understanding. Someone who wanted to know the truth rather than take it away and further spin it into a web of lies. She let out a breath less defensive this time, “I finish my shift at seven today,” she murmured, glancing out the window where the afternoon sun was beginning to lower. 

“Meet me outside by the staff car park and I’ll tell you everything.”

Sarah gave a small nod and Y/N turned, picked up the next glass. 

The cool evening air wrapped around them as they stood outside the club, the faint hum of the island's nightlife carrying in the background. Y/N leaned against the brick wall, the weight of the conversation she was having heavy on her shoulders. Sarah stood beside her, silent, but there was an understanding in her posture now. She was quiet- the whole time. She didn't interrupt once, just listened, waiting for Y/N to speak, to unload everything she had been holding in. 

Y/N took a long drag of her cigarette, the smoke curling into the air as she exhaled slowly. She raised her hand and offered it to Sarah, who smiled politely and shook her head. They stood silent for a moment, the quiet between them thick like the smoke rising from Y/N’s lips, but somehow it was comfortable. “No one knows this,” Y/N continued, her voice barely a whisper now. 

“No one but me and Rafe… and now you.” 

Sarah’s face softened with understanding, her eyes filled with empathy after having listened to Y/N, like a priest at confession. She exhaled slowly her words quiet, 

“JJ is pretty mad at you,” Sarah said her voice careful but not accusatory, “I don’t think he understands why you’d—” 

“-that’s not my problem anymore.” 

Y/N cut her off, her tone sharper than she meant. She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face in frustration before pursing her lips and shaking her head softly, speaking out, 

“You heard what he said… ‘I’m not a Maybank.’ ” 

She repeated the words, as if to remind herself just how much they stung. Sarah looked at her for a long moment, “It’s not that simple, Y/N. He’s hurting. JJ cares about you- more than he lets on. And he doesn’t know how to deal with this. I know it’s not easy, but I think you two need to talk.” 

Y/N shook her head again, almost to herself this time. “I don’t know if I can. It’s not about JJ anymore. I can’t keep trying to fix things with him. I've been doing that for too long- I’ve always made sure he’s happy Sarah, but now… I think I should focus on what’s best for me.” 

Sarah gave a small understanding nod, her eyes flickering down to the cigarette in Y/N’s hand, the older girl noticed, causing her to hold it up to her. Sarah took it, lifting it to her lips and taking a slow pull. The smoke lifting above the two of them like a small cloud.

“I get it. But I think you owe it to yourself to have that conversation with him to tell him what's really going on.” 

Y/N exhaled slowly, sliding down the wall so she was crouching by the floor, tapping the cigarette ash onto the paving on the floor. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that, but deep down, she knew it was something that needed to happen. 

She owed it to herself 

And to JJ

The quiet between them stretched on, thick with unspoken thoughts and emotions. The last of the cigarette smoke curled up into the night air, disappearing into the sky as if it was never even there. Y/N stared at the glowing ember on the floor beside her, the weight of everything she had just said settling deep inside her.

"I... I love your brother Sarah." 

The words hung in the air as she suddenly spoke out, her voice trembling slightly, as if confessing it out loud to someone else except for him made it more real. Y/N didn’t look up. She couldn’t. Her eyes were fixed somewhere near the dark patch of pavement between her shoes, her heart thrumming beneath her ribs. Sarah’s expression softened, her eyes widening a little in surprise. She had never imagined hearing those words come from Y/N’s lips- not because she didn’t believe it but because she never thought anyone would be brave enough to admit that about him.

Her brother?

Sarah was silent as if trying to find the right words, but Y/N was too focused on the quiet to look at her. It wasn’t until Sarah’s voice broke the stillness that Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting Sarah’s. “I think he loves you too,” Sarah said, 

 “From what I can tell... I think he loves you a lot.”

Y/N finally looked up at that and Sarah pushed off from where she’d been leaning and crouched down besides her, her back against the same wall now, their shoulders a few inches apart. She rested her arms over her bent knees, then looked sideways at Y/N who gave her a small, tired smile and Sarah, after a beat, said gently but plainly,

“But... I know JJ loves you too.”

Y/N’s smile faded, and she stared ahead for a beat, her throat tightening as she let out a breath through her nose. Sarah didn’t say anything after that, almost as though afraid she’d pushed too hard. The older girl whispered, her voice so quiet it was almost lost to in the cool breeze of the evening,

"I don't know if I'm allowed to love them both"

“I think that’s for you to decide…”

taglist: @xoxosblogsblog @moonywhisp3rs @i-love-gvf @my-name-is-baby@ltristessedureratoujours @stoned-writer @mariamadison6-blog@rafesgurl@rafecameronswhoore @lovelytoomusic @mysticbby2009 @vanessa-rafesgirl@silkenthusiasts @partygirl14 @amterasuu @xoxo-ada @icaqttt@ivysprophecy @mauvesmax @larema121 @ggraycelynn @emeloyy @pluviophilis@slut-4-gojo @willowpains @wtfisastiles @rafecqmeronslove @pleasstory@lolasangelz @beau-dabomb @psychocitylights @constantsadness @rhianthebest@emmiesummers @sfotiegiuls @ggraycelynn @larema121 @emeloyy @pluviophilis@urgoldens @insominagirlss @urfavoritebrunette007 @mauvesmax @miniiminie@kythefangirl25 @niyalovests @scream4mami @aizawawify @prettybabyyyy@barbiefan14 @keennerdslover @rafeysslut @rafeysworldim19@jennieonline@hannieskzzz@sugak00kie03@gabrielaperez11@simonejacpbsen @bambigirl10 @prettycoochieee

[caprisunzz]

Bunny (P15)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: only took me half a year to post x

warnings: SMUT!!!, angst, alcohol, mentions of drugs, heavy violence, mentions of past abuse (bruises ect), soft!rafe and Soft!bunny (they're so domestic)

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11) (P12) (P13) (P14) (P15) (P16)

The sunlight was soft when it filtered through the curtains of Rafe’s room, casting pale light over the walls and bed. Y/N stirred, her lashes fluttering open as her eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar light. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. The sheets beneath her were expensive and smooth, not like the ones at home, or now what used to be home. Then her gaze drifted, and she saw him.

Rafe

Lying on his side, one arm slung carelessly over his torso, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His face, usually set in a smirk or a tense scowl, was soft in sleep, he looked peaceful.

Vulnerable even.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

She stayed still just watching him, too afraid to move in fear of waking him. There was something painfully human about the way his lips were parted slightly in slumber. She remembered the way she’d slipped into his bed hours ago; quiet, hesitant and desperate for comfort. How she’d whispered “I love you too” to his sleeping back with her heart thudding so loud in her ears she was sure it would wake him up.

But he hadn’t stirred.

Now in the light of day, the weight of everything settled heavy on her chest. Her body ached from the bruises, from exhaustion but there was another ache too... a quieter one.

She shouldn’t be here.

He’d broken his promise. He'd told the one person she'd asked him not to her deepest most sacred secret and yet he came when she called.

Held her.

Helped her.

And even now dead asleep by her side he was giving her the only peace she’d known in days. She needed to breathe. To think. To be away from him for just a little while but even the idea of leaving the warmth of this bed sent a cold pang through her chest. Carefully, Y/N slipped back from him and rolled onto her side. The mattress dipped slightly as she moved but Rafe didn’t wake. She paused, watching him once more, her eyes lingering on the way the sunlight kissed his cheekbone, then she pushed the covers back and stood. Her bare feet hit the hardwood floor with a soft tap. She moved gently, trying not to make a sound as she crossed the room. Her hand brushed the doorframe on her way out. The hall was quiet the echoes of her footsteps felt loud in the silence, she padded down the stairs slowly, one hand trailing the banister.

In the kitchen, the early light spilled across the counters. She moved toward the sink, resting her hands on either side of it, gripping the edge like it might keep her steady. She didn’t cry- she’d done enough of that. But her chest rose and fell with a sharpness that lingered because here she was, in Rafe Cameron’s kitchen, in one of his T-shirts, with his scent still clinging to her skin and his care hanging in the air like smoke she couldn’t get rid of.

She didn’t know what to do.

So she did the one thing she did know how to do... provide.

Her hands moved on instinct, like her body remembered before her mind caught up. She opened the cabinets trying to figure out where things are, she found a boxed pancake mix shoved near the back of the top shelf and stood on her tip-toes to grab it. Then the fridge creaked open, humming low as she grabbed eggs, milk, and a pack of bacon. It was strange, how easily she fell into the rhythm of it. She cracked eggs into a glass bowl, the sound splitting the otherwise silent house. Her fingers whisked the yolks into a golden puddles and the sizzle of bacon followed not long after, curling in the pan as the smell filled the air.

She didn’t know why she was doing it.

Maybe it was habit?

Maybe it was all these years of survival. She flipped a pancake onto the griddle, her movements automatic now, and for a moment her mind drifted, pulling her back. Y/N smiled faintly, a tired little tug at the corner of her mouth as she stood over the stove, flipping another pancake. The bacon crackled beside her and the smell made her chest ache in a bittersweet way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N, what’s that smell?”

A groggy voice called from the hallway of the home, the sound of feet padding against the floorboards following swiftly after. “Bacon,” she called back without looking up, standing on her tiptoes to reach the back burner.

“Don’t touch it!”

JJ, barefoot and messy-haired, shuffled into the kitchen like a zombie. He was still in the oversized T-shirt he wore to bed, the neckline too loose meaning on elf his shoulders was on the edge of slipping out, he rubbed one eye with the back of his hand. “Don’t touch what?” he asked, already grabbing a slice of bacon straight from the paper towel it was placed on.

“JJ!” she shrieked, swatting at him with the spatula. “You’re gonna burn your mouth are you crazy!”

“Worth it,” he mumbled between chews, grinning widely. She rolled her eyes a she shoves the last few rashers of bacon on to the pan looking over her shoulder to him, “Go do the pancakes if you wanna eat so bad.”

“Yes chef.”

He saluted lazily as he spoke. Of course, giving JJ pancake duty had been a mistake. The first one came out raw in the middle, gooey and sticky as he slapped it enthusiastically onto the plate. The second one, burnt to a crisp so badly it resembled charcoal.

The third?

Somehow both...?

By the time she turned around, the kitchen smelled like smoke, and he was fanning the pan with a paper plate.

“Seriously Jay?” she deadpanned trying to suppress a giggle as she snatched the spatula from his hand.

“Eh- I’m more of a bacon guy anyway”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe blinked against the sunlight filtering through the curtains, his brows furrowed in confusion as the scent of bacon reached him. It threaded through the halls, faint but enough to coax him from the comfort of his sheets. He sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair and for a second his mind wandered to a dream he'd had- Y/N showing up at his door in the middle of the night, slipping into bed behind him, her arm wrapped around his waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. He raised his hand rubbing his eyes and blinking to focus his vision, then he looked over at the other side of the bed.

The sheets were slightly rumpled.

He got up.

The wood floor was cool under his bare feet as he walked toward the stairs. He didn’t rush but he didn’t even realise he was holding his breath until he reached the landing and heard the soft clatter of a pan being set in the sink.

And then he saw her.

Her back was facing towards him and she was standing at the stove in one of his T-shirts. She was plating breakfast like it was something she’d done a hundred times before; stack of golden pancakes was already layered onto two plates alongside scrambled eggs and crispy bacon. She moved carefully like she was still trying not to wake the house.

For a moment Rafe just stood there.

There was something about her face- calm and focused, her mouth pressed into a neutral line even though he knew her whole world had crumbled just hours ago. The night before was still etched into the bruises on her arms. He watched the curve of her cheek as she reached for a spatula, the small crease between her brows as she concentrated on stacking the pancakes just right. Her movements were so thoughtful. She looked like a woman trying to hold herself together with butter and the smell of bacon.

She turned, pan in one hand, and as she moved to the sink she froze mid-step eyes landing on him standing there, watching her. Her eyes widened, but only for a second. Then she looked down, fumbling slightly as she set the pan in the sink, her voice coming quiet and a little uneven, “...Oh. I, uh—” she cleared her throat and her eyes flicked to his for the briefest second before darting away again,

“I made you breakfast.”

Rafe just stood there, throat tight for another second before stepping further into the kitchen, barefoot on the tile, the morning light brushing across his shoulders. He moved slowly, like if he made a wrong move she might bolt, disappear all over again. His voice was soft when he spoke, a quiet rasp still dusted with sleep.

“Shouldn’t I be the one making you breakfast?”

She didn’t turn right away. Just stood there at the sink, fingers pressing into the edge of the counter like she needed something to ground her.

“I mean-” he added gently, “cause you're my guest and all...”

She exhaled a shaky little breath, then turned to glance over her shoulder. Her eyes flicked to his long enough for him to see the way her walls were trying to stay up. “Well,” she said, voice light but brittle,

“I didn’t know how else to thank you.”

Rafe’s brow softened as the words slipped past her lips,

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

She looked down at the plates then, the golden pancakes stacked perfectly, eggs fluffed just right, bacon crisped at the edges. It wasn’t as fancy as she first thought it was when she was making it, so undeniably a sense of doubt started to creep into the corner of her mind- did he think this was dumb? Did she make a mistake cooking all this in the first pla-

He reached out and took the plate she’d made for him.

“Thanks,” he said simply, “It looks great.”

The two of them sat at the kitchen island, forks clinking gently against ceramic plates. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable but at the same time it felt like they were both walking barefoot across something fragile. Y/N cut into her pancake slowly, eyes flicking down then across at Rafe for a moment before lowering again. Rafe took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. He glanced at her just once, then leaned back slightly in his chair.

“This is good”

He hummed mouth half-full. She didn’t lift her head, just gave a small nod, nudging a piece of bacon into the yolk of her egg before mumbling,

“You’ve got good produce.”

That made him let out a short laugh- dry and a little surprised. His fork scraped against the plate as he looked at her.

“Right- It’s the produce.”

“Hey, I’m being serious.”

She looked up then almost frowning. His grin deepened just slightly as he leaned his elbow on the counter, watching her with quiet amusement.

“Sure thing”

He replied, still warm and teasing. She didn’t smile, not really, but there was a subtle softening at the edge of her mouth. Just a flicker, but he noticed. The way she kept her movements controlled, like she was trying to convince herself she was okay or at least that she could pass for it. He saw through it but he didn’t push Instead, he played along and let her have this one bit of normal. Because if sitting here eating pancakes and talking about produce helped her feel even a little bit safe, then he’d keep pretending. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just nodded slowly as she ate. Then she cleared her throat and dropped her gaze to her plate.

“I used to make breakfast for JJ,” she said after a pause, thumb brushing a syrup trail from the side of her plate. “Back when we were kids...”

Rafe stayed quiet, listening to her speak.

“He would always sleeping in late… but I’d still get up early, I don’t even know why. Habit, I guess.” She shrugged a little, then chuckled. “Used to put him on pancake duty sometimes just to make him help. But he’d burn every single one, every time. Like charcoal... and the fat ass would still eat them.”

Rafe smiled, soft and genuine.

“He used to steal all the bacon before I even finished cooking. I’d turn around and half the plate would be gone, and he’d be pretending to look innocent with bacon grease on his face.”

She went quiet for a second, staring down at the food on her plate. The memory had started sweet but the weight of the present hung heavy in the space between now and then. JJ wasn't stealing bacon anymore… he could barely look at her. Her throat tightened, and she looked away like she was suddenly embarrassed for sharing.

For letting him in.

His fork scraped softly across the plate as he reached for a piece of bacon and leaned back slightly on the stool, watching her without making it obvious. Rafe swirled a piece of egg around the plate, not really eating, more just pushing it around. His voice cut through the gentle clinking of cutlery, soft and unexpected.

“My mom used to make breakfast like this.”

She looked up, blinking. He wasn’t looking at her just sort of staring past her shoulder, through the window behind her into the gardens of the house. Then he shifted slightly looking away, fingers brushing the rim of his coffee mug.

“I used to eat breakfast with her in the mornings,” he murmured, “before school back when… she was still around.”

A quiet smile played at the edge of his mouth and Y/N’s gaze flicked to him, listening.

“She made these ‘healthy’ pancakes,” he continued, a small smile barely touching the edge of his mouth as he raised one hand making a little quotation mark. “She’d mash up whatever fruit was going soft. I never really liked fruit but I used to steal Sarah’s off her plate when she was little. Not even quiet about it and she’d be screaming that I took the best one even though they were all the same.”

That made Y/N huff gently through her nose in amusement.

“I used to lie and say it wasn’t me.” Rafe finally looked over at her, “My mom always knew it was me, every time” he said. “But she never got mad- she’d just… cut another pancake and slide it onto Sarah’s plate like it was nothing.”

His voice had gone distant, as if he could still see it. Like it lived in a corner of his mind he didn’t open very often. His eyes drew away from her as he glanced back down at his plate.

“I think she liked that we were all at the table. Together.”

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. He took a bite, chewing slowly and the girl opposite him mirrored the action as they ate in silence once more. From everything she’d ever overheard, his mom was one of those subjects people tiptoed around. Yet here he was retelling a part of his past which sounds like it happened yesterday instead of years ago. The scraping of the utensils on the porcelain plates came to a stop as the round dishes now lay empty from both sides. Rafe’s eyes flicked back to Y/N steadily but much softer than before. Like something unspoken had eased between them.

“I haven’t thought about that in a while,” he admitted, his thumb dragging along the edge of his napkin before he rubbed it against his jaw.

“I actually haven’t eaten a meal with someone like this in a long time…”

He glanced down again, folding his napkin in half, then setting his fork and knife neatly beside his empty plate. His coffee cup was almost drained, the last sip resting cool at the bottom and he picked it up looking down into the cup and then set it down again, almost like he didn’t want the moment to end.

“So… thank you,” he said quietly, the words sincere.

“This was nice.”

Y/N studied him, something loosening in her chest. She could see it clearly now- how genuine he was being. She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re welcome.”

Rafe shifted a little, leaned back on the seat. His hand dragged up over his buzzcut, fingers raking through the short strands in an almost nervous motion.

“You know, I uh… I think we could do this more often.”

“…What do you mean?”

She blinked, her hand frozen halfway to her coffee cup and he looked at her now more intentionally.

“Well,” he said, almost like he had to ease himself into it too, “if you stay here- we could do this every morning.”

Her fingers lowered her mug to the counter without taking a sip the ceramic clink loud in the silence. Her brows knit slightly, lips parting just enough to let the question slip through.

“Stay here?”

Rafe’s gaze held hers for a beat before he shook his head a little, as if sorting his own words out before he said them. As though debating if he should push the subject further.

“I don’t know if you remember, but when I came to pick you up yesterday you said—”

“-I said I had nowhere to go.”

She finished for him, the words tumbling out before his could, a small frown drawing her brows down. He paused, a little surprised at her firmness or maybe because she remembered it too.

“Yeah,” he said, “That’s what you said.”

There was a moment where the air seemed to shift so he continued speaking, slower this time,

“So… you can live here. For as long as you like.”

Y/N stared at him. Not in disbelief- though there was some of that circling her thoughts- but more in stunned silence, like her mind needed a minute to catch up with what her ears had just heard.

Live here?

She hadn’t expected that. 

Not from him. 

Not after what she’d said to him.

And yet his voice wasn’t teasing. His posture wasn’t guarded and she could tell he wasn’t saying it to manipulate her or trap her- because she’s seen that side of him before. He was just offering. Her eyes dropped for a second to her hands wrapped around her mug and she could feel her pulse in her fingertips. When she looked up again, Rafe was still watching her; evidently waiting. Her eyes lifted slowly, hesitant.

“I… I can’t.”

Rafe shifted slightly in his seat, setting his coffee down and leaning forward his forearms resting loosely on the kitchen island.

“Why not?”

“Because—”

Her voice faltered, her lips parting before pressing back together in a tight line. She dropped her gaze to the napkin next to her fingers and she began folding the edge over and over, like the motion might give her something to hold on to. Rafe just watched her patiently and after a moment, he tried again. “C’mon Y/N,” he said, his tone a little less sure.

“Why not?”

She swallowed hard, the napkin now twisted tight in her hands. “I just—” she said, shaking her head, more at herself than at him.

“I can’t, Rafe.”

He leaned back slightly, one hand curling over the back of his neck, rubbing it as though trying to ease something out of his spine. She exhaled hard through her nose, eyes still fixed on the napkin in her hands.

“I shouldn’t even be here right now.”

Rafe tilted his head at that, studying her moving so that his elbow braced against the counter.

“Where else would you be?”

She opened her mouth but nothing came out because the truth was- she didn’t know. She didn’t have a single answer to give. Her whole life, there had always been a place to fall back to, even if it wasn’t much of a home. At least it was a roof over her head and a door that locked. Even if the walls were thin and her father only let her stay because her money kept the lights on and the fridge full.

But now?

Now she had nothing.

No keys.

No door.

No place where she felt wanted.

And Rafe knew it.

His finger tapped against the cool marble of the counter then it stopped- he placed his palm down onto the stone, resting his weight onto his hands. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now,” he said, voice low. “You can just be here for as long as you want. No expectations or anything, no pressure just—” He paused, his jaw tightening as he scrubbed a hand across it trying to ease the tension.

“Just stay Y/N.”

Her fingers stilled on the napkin, pressing flat against the tissue as she slowly lifted her gaze. He wasn’t making some vague offer or dangling the idea out of guilt or pity. He was offering her space like he actually wanted her here.

It scared her.

But it also settled something deep in her chest.

“Just for a little while”

She said quietly and Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave hers as she spoke. He nodded once, the corner of his mouth twitching- not quite a smile, but close.

“Yeah- just for a little while.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft light of the morning filtered in through the guest room window, Y/N stood barefoot in the ensuite bathroom the counter cold beneath her fingertips as she braced herself in front of the mirror. She hadn’t brought anything with her when she left; no bag, no change of clothes, just her car keys, phone and whatever dignity she could scrape together after being thrown out like she was nothing. Now standing in front of a mirror that wasn’t hers in a house that wasn’t hers, she tugged on yesterday’s clothes- her work uniform crumpled from the night before. She exhaled through her nose, steadying her breath as she looked towards the mirror and tilted her chin just slightly.

There it was.

The edge of her jaw, yellow and purple and beginning to darken. The shape of her father’s hand still blooming across her skin like a quiet threat. Her eyes narrowed on it, shoulders tight as a he reached up and brushed a fingertip over the bruise featherlight, and still winced at the dull throbbing ache beneath it.

“Shit”

She murmured under her breath. She pulled her hand away and gripped the edge of the sink again, trying to push down the heat rising behind her eyes, she didn’t have time for this. She turned her head looking through the door toward the bedroom wall, catching the clock, Thirty minutes. That’s all she had before her shift started which meant thirty minutes to pull herself together, thirty minutes to figure out how to cover up the ugly bruise rising like a storm on her face. Y/N grabbed her cracked phone off the bed and scooped her shoes up in one hand, barely paying attention as she padded quietly down the stairs. The house was still warm with the scent of lingering coffee. She didn’t hear anyone… maybe Rafe had gone back to sleep.

She sat down on the bottom step, ducking her head as she slipped her shoes on. The fabric of her white polo was wrinkled and slightly smudged from when she'd been shoved hard onto the floor. The scuffs on her knees were visible and as she leant over to tie her laces she tried not to think about how raw the skin on her palms still felt. A voice called from behind her.

"Where are you going?"

She flinched just slightly, then turned her head.

Rafe was walking toward her from the hallway, brows drawn low in confusion. He leaned his shoulder against the opposite wall, arms folded across his chest as he looked her over- his gaze pausing at her crumpled uniform, then at her cheek which was not properly illuminated by the light spilling in through the windows by the front door. She looked back down quickly, pulling her second shoe tighter.

"I'm going to work," she muttered.

"Seriously?"

"Yes seriously, Rafe," she snapped, standing up quickly and brushing her hands over her polo crossing her arms now mirroring his stance.

"I have to go to work or I’ll get fired. I’ve already taken shifts off."

He stayed quiet for a second, then he let out a breath his voice low but sharp,

"You’re going to work in this… state?"

She frowned, eyebrows pulling together. "This state?" Her voice was flat, defensive. "What’s that supposed to mean?" He pushed off the wall stepping closer, "Jesus, Y/N.” Then, he gestured toward her-

“You’ve been beat black and blue. What do you mean, 'this state'? You’ve got a bruise on your cheek, both your knees are scuffed up — I mean, look at your palms." His voice softened a little there, but it didn’t lose its urgency. "They’re still raw." He shook his head.

"Why the hell are you going to work?"

Y/N sighed, a slow, deep breath that left her shoulders sagging just slightly. Not because she was backing down but because she knew he was speaking the truth. She sank back down onto the stairs with a quiet exhale, fingers knotting together in her lap.

“I can’t lose my job too.”

Rafe stood across from her arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. He looked down at her for a beat, and then said firmly,

“You’re not gonna lose your job for taking a day off.”

She let out a dry laugh, one without any humor. “You don’t get it.”

“I’m trying to—”

“No, you don’t understand Rafe.” She snapped, sharper now, lifting her head to meet his eyes. She cut herself off, jaw clenched as she searched for the right words.

“You’ve never had a shitty fucking manager who waits for you to mess up so they can make an example out of you,” she muttered, bitterly. “Never had coworkers who wouldn’t lift a finger to back you up because all they care about is their own paycheck. You’ve never had to beg to stay on the schedule, never had to swallow your pride just to keep the lights on. You’re your own boss- you don’t answer to anyone.”

Her words hung in the air and for once Rafe didn’t argue. His arms slowly dropped to his sides, and he nodded, he looked like he wanted to reach for her- but he didn’t. “You’re right…” he said finally, voice low.

“I don’t understand.”

There was no anger in it. Just honesty. And something else, too- frustration, maybe? Not at her, but at himself, at the fact that no matter how much he wanted to help he couldn’t change the life she came from.

Couldn’t erase it.

But then, he slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone, already unlocking it. Y/N furrowed her brows.

“What are you doing?”

Rafe didn’t look up as he swiped across his screen. “Just making a call.”

“A call to who?” she asked, suspicion curling around her words.

He glanced at her, tone casual. “To get you a day off.”

“Rafe they’re not gonna give me a day off just because you ask nicely. That’s not how it works.”

Y/N let out a humourless laugh and he stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to face her fully,

“I don’t understand- I probably never will.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden softness in his tone as he continued, “I am my own boss. I don’t answer to anyone- people answer to me so I might as well use that to make it easier for you.”

Her mouth parted slightly, the words caught somewhere between her chest and throat. Then, without another word, Rafe turned and started walking up the stairs, the phone already pressed to his ear. She heard his voice trailing through the open space, professional, as he disappeared down the hall toward the office. Y/N stayed where she was, shoes still half-laced, watching as he stepped into the room and pulled the door nearly shut behind him. She stared for a beat longer, then lowered her gaze, biting the inside of her cheek.

Part of her wanted to fight him on it.

The stubborn part.

The one that said she had to earn everything, prove she could handle it by herself. But the other part- the aching, tired, scuffed-up part- just wants to sit there in the quiet house, trying not to cry at the fact that someone was finally showing up for her. She pushed herself up from the bottom step, her muscles aching in quiet protest as she made her way upstairs. She padded softly down the hall, her footsteps barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. The office door was cracked just slightly open, and she paused there, resting her hands on the doorframe for balance, her fingers curling gently around the edge. Rafe stood near the window, his back to her, phone still to his ear.

“Yeah, that’s great. Pleasure speaking to you… what was your name again? Martin? Yeah... thanks so much have a good one.”

She watched as he slid the phone into his back pocket, shoulders rolling slightly as he turned around. His eyes lifting and landing on her. She was leaning there, half in the room, half still out in the hallway. Her eyes were watching him with that same mixture of stubbornness and something softer underneath.

Curiosity.

He turned towards her looking down to where she stood by the doorframe, before tipping his head towards the guest room.

“Go get changed”

She furrowed her brows. “…Why?”

“Because you’ve got the day off,” he said easily. “So go have a shower. Get changed. Sleep, if you want.” She blinked up at him before a small smile teased its way onto her lips.

“Have a shower… do I stink or something?”

“Didn’t say that.”

Rafe huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head as he bit back a smile. She looked at him as her eyes squinted a little in confusion,

“How… how did you even do that?”

He shrugged, arms folding across his chest like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“I’m Rafe Cameron.”

“Oh God.”

She rolled her eyes, but it was playful. He grinned, just a little and then she looked up at him again, and this time her voice was quieter.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, shaking his head but she nodded slowly,

“Yeah I do Rafe.”

The way she said his name, like it meant something more than it used to, made something flicker behind his eyes. He didn’t say anything right away, just looked at her for a moment longer before stepping out of the office. “Go,” he said again, gently this time. But as she started to shift her weight off the doorframe, he added,

“I gotta head out for a few hours. Need to deal with something.”

“Are you sure you want me here? I can go—”

“Y/N”

He cut in, with a dry sort of tone, brows raised slightly like he couldn’t believe she even asked. She blinked, mouth shutting. “Right,” she murmured, ducking her head.

“Stupid question.”

“If you want to get changed, use my stuff… you know where my room is.”

Her eyes flicked up to his face at that just for a beat and then dropped again just as quick. She didn’t say anything, didn’t have to. The implication hung in the air thick like smoke: he knew. He knew she’d been in his bed last night, curled up by his side like she belonged there, like she had nowhere else to go and nothing left to lose. Then his voice cut through it.

“You good…?”

She cleared her throat, eyes still cast down. “Yeah- yeah. I’m good.”

He lingered a second longer, like he wasn’t quite sure whether to believe her then he just gave a small nod, turned and started down the hall. She stood there in the doorway for a long moment after he was gone, her fingers slowly loosening their grip on the wood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She lay back against the comforter her damp hair leaving little imprints on the pillowcase, the towel wrapped snug around her body the only thing keeping her warm. Sunlight drifted in through the sheer curtains casting soft lines across the guest bed but her mind felt far from calm. Her fingers curled over the edge of her towel as she stared up at the ceiling. Rafe had been gone maybe an hour, maybe two. She wasn’t sure. The minutes bled together when she wasn’t doing anything.

All she could think about was him.

How he’d stood there this morning his arms crossed but voice steady, doing everything he could to help her without pushing too hard. How he’d made that call like it was nothing. How he hadn’t even flinched when she snapped back at him but he just… took it. Even after what she said to him, after he’d told her he loved her and she couldn’t even look at him properly.

“Don’t say shit like that.”

“I don’t want to talk to you, okay?” 

“Stop.”

“I can’t do this with you, Rafe. I just can’t.”

“Just let me go home.”

Her stomach turned.

Why the hell was he being so good to her?

She’d left him in that parking lot. Walked away like he hadn’t just stood there with his heart in his hands... like she hadn’t felt it too. And now- now she was here in his house, sleeping in his bed, borrowing his clothes, letting him take care of her like she hadn’t made him feel like a fucking idiot for caring. She shifted slightly, one arm coming up to rest across her forehead.

He should be pissed at her.

Or cold towards her

Or done with her

Instead, he was so gentle with her, like she hadn’t tried to shut the door in his face and maybe that was what made her chest ache the most. Not the bruise swelling on her cheek or the scabbing on her palms but the fact that Rafe Cameron still wanted her around, even when she was at her worst. Even when she didn’t feel worth anything. She exhaled through her nose her eyes fluttering shut.

She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve this version of him but a part of her, the one that has been bruised long before last night, kept wondering if she’d ever feel safe trusting someone like this again.

Still, she was here.

The vibration startled her, her phone buzzing against the wood of the bedside drawer breaking the silence. Y/N blinked slowly, pulling herself out of the spiral in her head as she reached over and tugged the towel tighter around her chest.

Sof : hey where are you? :(

Sof : is everything okay???

She stared at the screen for a beat, teeth sinking into her lower lip. Jesus, what was she even supposed to say? Her thumbs hovered then slowly she started typing.

Y/N : yeah just dealing with some shit rn

Sof : what’s going on?

Y/N : my dad kicked me out yesterday

The reply was almost instant.

Sof : what?

Sof : he kicked you out what do you mean

Y/N : he found out.

The typing bubble from Sofia appeared, then disappeared. Finally her reply slid onto the screen.

Sof : the pregnancy?

Y/N : no

Y/N : about the strip club

Sof : Jesus

Sof : I’m so sorry my love

Y/N : don’t be it’s not your fault.

Sof : why didn’t you call me?

Y/N sighed softly resting her head against the headboard as her thumbs began moving against the screen again.

Y/N : it was really late sof and ik you had a morning shift today

Sof : are you hurt?

Sof : is that why you’re not in?

Y/N : something like that

Sof : do you need me to come help you

Y/N : no no don’t do that I’m fine.

There was a legnthy pause between their messages. Then the phone buzzed once more and a message that made her heart skip appeared on the small glowing screen.

Sof : if he’s kicked you out where are you right now?

Y/N stared at the screen

Shit

She could already hear Sofia’s voice in her head- the hesitation, the concern, because Sofia knew everything and she also knew that Rafe Cameron was the last person Y/N said she’d ever want to lean on again. The girl dragged her bottom lip between her teeth and stared down at the blinking cursor in her message box.

Y/N : I’m safe I promise.

But she didn’t press send just yet because safe in this case didn’t mean simple. So Y/N took a breath, eyes lingering on the last message and she deleted it before she started typing again.

Y/N : I’m safe I promise.

Y/N : I’m staying with a friend.

Sofia : right

Sof : and that is?

Her heart thudded a little harder in her chest and she hesitated as she chewed at the inside of her cheek then typed:

Y/N : you don’t know him

Sof : cut the bs Y/N

Sof : where are you

Y/N : I’m staying with Rafe.

The screen stayed still.

No typing bubble.

No message.

Y/N sat up a little her grip tightening slightly around the towel wrapped around her. Her phone remained still in her hand the seconds stretching.

Then—

Sof : Cameron

Y/N : yeah

She could feel it- the way Sofia was probably sitting there, trying to come up with something that wasn’t just “what the fuck”-

Sof : What the fuck

Spoke too soon

Sof : I'm sorry what

Sof : are you being serious with me

Y/N : yes

Sof : what the hell what are you doing at his place Y/N

Sof : does he even know about what’s going on or…?

Y/N exhaled fingers moving quickly now;

Y/N : I called him last night after it happened

Y/N : I panicked Sof I didn’t know who to call

Sof : he picked up?

Y/N : yeah he did

Y/N : he came to pick me up and brought me back here

Y/N : he’s even offered me a place to stay

This time Sofia took a minute to responce,

Sof : wow

Sof : is he being genuine?

Y/N stared at the question for a moment.

Y/N : I think so

She could picture Sofia on the other end of the phone sitting in the tiny country club break room, probably hunched over her phone with her brows furrowed, biting at her cuticles- even though Y/N always tried to break her outof the habbit.

Sof : Y/N you told me yesterday you wanted nothing to do with him...

Y/N : I know Sof I’ve thought about it

Sof : have you now

Y/N : Jesus Sof I don't know what to do

Y/N : I know I was mad at him I was so fucking mad at him and upset and dissapointed but now I just dont know he's been so good to me

Y/N : so good

Y/N : and as much as I want to stay mad at him I can't beacause I think I'm in love with him

Sof : you love him?

Y/N : Yeah

Y/N : well

Y/N : I don’t know

Y/N : I’ve never felt like this before and I know he’s an been an asshole but I just don’t know anymore.

Sof : He picked you up in the middle of the night after you said you never wanted to see him again and now he's letting you stay with him

Sof : You really think he’d do all that if he didn’t care?

Sof : You know guys like him don’t just do stuff like that for anyone

Y/N : I know

Y/N stared at the screen.

Sof : If I had to take a guess

Sof : I’d say he loves you too

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The black Range Rover cut hard into the dirt driveway outside Barry’s trailer, tires kicking up dust as Rafe slammed the door shut behind him. His eyes were sharp as he strode toward the trailer where Barry was crouched by his dirt bike, tools scattered around him. Barry looked up, a slow smirk forming as he let out a low whistle as he drawled out, wiping grease off his hands.

“Who’s got your panties in a twist cuz?”

“What do you know about Luke Maybank?”

Rafe didn’t waste time as he spoke back only for Barry to shrug without looking up, a careless expression on his face, “Shi’ man. All I know is he likes his ambien- dat’s 'bout it.”

“I need his address.”

He scoffed running a hand over his buzz cut clearly not satisfied with the answer he got and Barry chuckled shaking his head.

“You think I’m sum secretary or somethin’? Don’t know where he lives.”

The frustration hit Rafe hard, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like his teeth might grind together and shatter. Suddenly, he spun around abruptly, slamming his palm down on the white plastic table outside the trailer. The table vibrated sharply; a few empty beer bottles teetering and crashing to the ground. Rafe muttered through gritted teeth, the anger heavy in his voice.

“Fuck”

Barry stood straight now brushing his hands on a grease stained rag before tossing it carelessly onto the dirt bike. He cocked his head, eyes narrowing.

“Can you not trash my crib man?”

He said a clear note of warning under the teasing. Rafe didn’t answer right away his shoulders tense, fists still clenched at his sides. The he spun back around, the dead, dusted grass crunching under his shoes as he locked eyes on Barry and gestured a hand toward him.

“Call him- tell him you got a fresh stash.”

Barry blinked and leat back against his rusted trailer with a slow, disbelieving shake of his head. “Why the fuck would I do that?” Rafe took a couple of heavy steps forward the dry grass snapping underfoot.

“Cause I told you to?”

“What, you my boss now Rafe?”

Barry smirked, folding his arms and rocking on his heels. He let out a low, amused chuckle whilst running a hand over his hair pausing momentarily before his grin grew wider, eyes peering up with a sharp edge.

“This about your little bitch at the strip club, ain’t it?”

Rafe’s teeth ground together audibly as the words passed Barry’s lips and he caught the change in tension and let out a slow, knowing laugh.

“Shi’ man… you attached or what?”

Without warning Rafe lunged forward, grabbing Barry roughly by the red cotton of his top and yanking him close. The coarse fabric crumpled under his fingers as his voice dropped to a low growl, deadly serious.

“You’re gonna do it right fucking now, d’you hear me? You’re gonna call that piece of shit and tell him to come over here. Is that fucking clear?”

“ight, ight country club. I’ll do it- tranquillo.”

Barry’s hands shot up palms wide in surrender although still slightly amused by the ordeal as Rafe shoved him back hard enough to make him stumble slightly. He pulled out his cracked phone thumb already scrolling through his contacts as the acrid sun beat down on the two of them, his thumbs lazy typing out a message before pressing send. Then he leans back against the trailer, arms crossed as he shifts his weight. “So am I right... or what?” he says eyes looking Rafe up and down.

“What was her name again- Bunny right?”

Rafe lets out a dry chuckle rolling his eyes, “Y/N,” he replies. Barry shakes his head, clapping his hands together with a satisfied smirk.

“Well I ain’t wrong then am I?”

The tension in Rafe’s jaw relaxes just a bit and Barry gestures toward one of the beaten-up plastic chairs beside the trailer. He drops into it with a scrape of plastic on gravel, patting the empty chair across from him, “sit,” he says nodding. Rafe exhales slowly the tightness in his chest easing as he strides over and lowers himself into the chair. He runs a hand over his jaw, eyes flickering back to Barry as he leans forward, elbows on his knees,

“Why you so worked up man? You don’t lose your shit like this anymore.”

Rafe clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms for a moment before he looks up his voice rough. “He beat her up.” Barry blinks, momentarily serious. “Damn.” He shakes his head,

“...didn’t know your ‘little bunny’ had it that bad.”

Rafe exhales rubbing the back of his neck as he looks ahead of them, the tall trees swaying slightly in the afternoon breeze. The dirt crunches under Barry’s boots as he stands up,

“So what’s the play now? You gonna put that piece of shit in his place?”

“Yeah”

Rafe’s jaw tightens his eyes hard as flint and Barry watches as the kook pushed himself off the plastic chair, fingers tightening around his signet ring, the battered symbol of everything his fucked-up family’s ever stood for.

“He’s gonna fuckin' wish he’d never laid his hands on her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dirt bike rattles to a stop in front of Barry’s trailer, kicking up a loose spray of gravel around it. Luke cuts the engine muttering a curse as he steadies himself; he’s clearly a little buzzed, one foot dragging as he dismounts the bike. Sweat clings to the collar of his shirt, his hair damp and his skin flushed. Barry doesn’t even glance up at first still crouched by the bike he’s been tuning, wiping his oil-slick fingers on a rag. “Maybank” Barry calls finally standing and stretching with a slight crack of his spine.

“I got your shit.”

Luke stumbles forward with a nod, already pulling crumpled bills from his front pocket. “Yeah- yeah great,” he mutters, squinting down as he tries to count them, licking his thumb with a hiccup of his drunken breath.

“How much again?”

Barry doesn’t answer, just stands there watching him, the stillness between them starting to stretch too long. Luke finally looks up. “What?” he mumbles irritably.

“Why’d you call me? You said you had a fresh stash right?”

Barry jerks his chin toward the busted lawn chair a few feet away. “Take a seat. Let’s talk.” Luke narrows his eyes,

“I’m good-”

“-sit down man.”

Barry’s voice sharpens and the man blinks at the tone- stiffer than he’s used to from the dealer. After a moment of hesitation he mutters something under his breath and sinks into the chair, the cracked plastic groaning under his weight. He leans back trying to look casual but there’s a crease forming between his brows now. Barry walks over to the dented metal cooler near the steps of his trailer and pops the lid, pulling out a beer he cracks it open with a hiss before taking a long, deliberate swig. He leans one shoulder against the nearby railing, watching Luke over the rim of the can.

Barry moves from the railing and drops lazily into the second chair not too far from Luke and stretches his legs out in front of him, beer bottle resting on his thigh, eyes not leaving the older man across from him. Luke shifts, sensing something’s off so he clears his throat and tries to play it casual.

“What do you uh- want Barry?”

Barry leans forward slightly, “Y’know… you been a customer a long time now.”

Luke bobs his head tapping his fingers anxiously on his thigh, “Yeah, yeah... I'm loyal.”

Barry looks like he’s about to say something else his mouth opening to speak but Luke cuts in sitting up a bit in his chair now, voice a little too eager.

“So since I’ve been loyal… think I could get somethin’ a little stronger tonight?”

“You want a bump?”

Barry snorts amused, head tilting to the side. Luke’s already reaching for his pocket, pulling out a crumple of bills and laying them down on the plastic table between them. He smooths them out quick and clumsy and then leans back expectantly. Barry just stares at the money.

Doesn’t reach for it.

Doesn’t even blink.

Then he laughs, right in Luke’s face.

“You think that’s enough?”

He asks, still chuckling. Luke shifts again licking his lips. “No, no—I know it’s not. I just… I’m a little tight right now, but I’ll get it to you. I swear.” Barry swirls the bottle in his hand, watching the foam rise to the neck before letting it settle.

“You ain’t got no money?”

“I do,” Luke insists, his voice pitching slightly.

“My daughter- she’ll give me some.”

Barry raises an eyebrow his gaze sharpening at the mention of the girl. “Your daughter huh?” Luke nods, a little too fast. “Yeah, I’ll find her. She- she’s probably at a friend’s or some shit like that...”

“You don’t know where she is?” Barry leans back the beer bottle resting against his bottom lip now, his expression unreadable as he watches the man. Luke’s lips part momentarily in a pause before words tumble past his lips again,

“No- I mean, yeah, I do. She ain’t home cause-”

“-Cause you kicked her out.”

The voice is ice-cold cutting across the humid, sticky air like a blade. Luke freezes mid-sentence, his eyes snapping to the side. Rafe stands at the bottom of the trailer steps, his arms crossed tight over his chest, biceps flexed under the sleeves of his t-shirt and his jaw sharp with tension. Luke’s face pales, blood draining from it like someone pulled a plug at the bottom of a bathtub.

“What the hell’s this?”

He mutters sitting forward his unease evidently rising. Barry, still in his chair, takes another lazy sip of beer like it’s just another evening on the Cut. Rafe doesn’t move, but his voice is low and controlled when he speaks again.

“Go on- Finish your sentence.”

Luke’s already rising from the chair, a confused scowl warping his face. “The fuck are you—”

But he doesn’t get to finish because Rafe’s on him in an instant, stepping forward and shoving both palms hard against his chest, slamming him back down into the seat with a crack of strain from the old plastic legs. The chair groans under the force, dirt crunching beneath it as it drags slightly from the impact. “Finish your sentence,” Rafe growls his voice a low snarl.

“Where’s your daughter huh?”

Luke shoves at his hands, trying to push himself up again. “I kicked her out,” he snaps back defiantly, his breath hot with stale beer. Rafe’s jaw flexes his lips curling into a humorless scoff. He paces back a step nodding like he needed to hear it said out loud. “Yeah, you did,” he says,

“You fucking kicked her out after you beat her black and blue.”

Luke's eyes narrow and his head swivels to Barry now, desperate, eyes darting. “What is this?” Barry shrugs, finally setting the empty beer bottle down on the table with a dull clink. He raises both palms, expression almost amused.

“Just here for the show.”

Luke’s barely processed what Barry's said when Rafe’s hand fists the front of his t-shirt and yanks him up out of the chair with one swift jerk. “Get the fuck up,” Rafe snaps, shoving him roughly out from behind the table. The plastic chair scrapes and topples with a clatter as Luke stumbles forward, catching himself on unsteady feet. The dirt kicks up around them, warm air thick with tension and dust. Luke turns back toward Rafe, fists half-raised, teeth gritted.

“You think you’re tough? Just cause she let you play hero for a night?”

Luke lets out this smug little scoff his head tilting as he sizes Rafe up like he’s suddenly got the upper hand, “Where’d you meet her?” His tone drips sarcasm, teeth flashing behind that alcohol-slicked grin. “High-end kook like you- look at the fuckin’ watch on your wrist.” His eyes flick down to the glinting Rolex hugging Rafe’s wrist, catching the sun.

“Yeah... you met her at that club didn’t you?”

Rafe doesn’t move but his jaw locks tight enough to snap bone. Luke only grins wider at Rafe's lack of response, emboldened by the silence. He steps closer his breath thick.

“What, you stuff a couple bills in her panties and now she’s lettin’ you fuck her huh?”

The next words are spit with venom, ugly and sharp.

“Cause she’s a slut-”

CRACK

Rafe’s fist connects with Luke’s jaw before the last word even finishes leaving his mouth. A sickening crunch fills the air as Luke’s head snaps to teh side and his body stumbles with it, knees buckling under the impact. Blood spatters from his lip instantly blooming red across his teeth and he drops with a thud. Rafe stands over him his chest heaving, fist still curled and twitching at his side. His knuckles are split blood already rising causing a red hue to spread across his skin. “I dare you to call her that again,” he spits out barely restrained.

“Fucking dare you.”

Luke groans as he pushes himself up, boots scraping through the dirt. He spits a thick string of blood from his mouth, the red splattering across the dry ground with a smack. Wiping the back of his hand across his split lip as he stares Rafe down, rage simmering just beneath the surface.

“She’s a slut”

He snarls, the word hurled like a weapon sharp and hateful.nRafe doesn’t blink his chest rising and falling and his neck taut. Luke smirks, that same cruel gleam in his eye.

“And you’re a dumbass for believing whatever little fantasy she’s feeding you.”

Rafe lunges.

The tension snaps as he crashes into Luke, fists flying. The force drives Luke back into the table with a loud bang, the plastic legs groaning before one buckles, sending it toppling sideways. Beer bottles roll into the dirt the glass clinking and cracking. However, Luke doesn’t stay down this time. He shoves Rafe off with a grunt his fist swinging up hard, landing a solid shot to Rafe’s ribs. A grunt tears from Rafe’s throat but he barely stumbles, surging back. He grabs Luke by the collar and slams him into the side of the trailer with a metallic clang, the whole structure rattling. Dust clouds the air and Luke grits out a laugh, even as blood runs from his nose. 

“You fighting for some pussy?”

Rafe snarls, slamming Luke into the trailer wall again, the sound echoes through the yard. The older man barely has time to suck in a breath before Rafe’s fist crashes into his face again.

Once

Twice

Bone meets flesh with sick, brutal cracks. Luke crumples to the ground with a grunt, hitting the dirt hard. A cloud of dust kicks up around him, clinging to the blood smeared across his face but Rafe isn’t done.

Not even close

He drops down on top of him, knee pressing into Luke’s gut to pin him whilst one hand fists the front of his shirt as the other keeps swinging. Each hit is heavier than the last even though his knuckles are already split, blood spattering across Luke’s cheek, temple and the dirt below them. Luke’s arms flail weakly trying to cover his face but Rafe swats them aside like nothing. The sound of impact is wet and horrible, flesh on flesh, Luke’s nose is broken blood now pouring out freely soaking into his collar.

Barry stand and lets out a low whistle watching for a second before he moves. “Hey!” he finally shouts out, voice sharp and cutting as he moves forward.

“Enough”

But Rafe doesn’t stop, his shoulders are heaving and his body curled over like an animal, fist raised again.

“Rafe- Rafe! That’s enough, man!”

No response.

Rafe’s pupils are blown, teeth gritted, his fist hovers in the air, trembling. Barry steps closer, hands raised but firm.

“You’re gonna kill him.”

Rafe still doesn’t move.

“You kill him out here,” Barry says quieter now, but dead serious, “and you’re gonna fuck it up.”

There’s blood smeared down Rafe’s arm, dripping from the tips of his fingers. Luke’s barely conscious now his face a mangled mess of red and swelling. He lets out a low, wet groan but still Rafe’s fist doesn’t drop. His eyes flicker- still brutal- but something about what's been said finally cuts through the haze. His hand falls but not in a punch, instead limp at his side. He staggers back a little, breathing hard, staring down at what he’s done. His own chest rising and falling like he’s just run for miles. Barry exhales, stepping between them now, hand on Rafe’s shoulder.

“That’s enough man. You made your point.”

Rafe doesn’t stay backed off for long though.

His breath still ragged and his chest is heaving, he steps forward again rage still simmering under his skin and he leans down and grabs the front of Luke’s blood-soaked t-shirt, jerking him up off the dirt with one brutal yank. Luke lets out a pained groan, his head lolling to the side eyes dazed, blood running down from his nose and lip. His hands scrabble weakly at Rafe’s wrist. Rafe yanks him closer their faces inches apart his voice low,

“If you ever fucking touch her again... I’ll kill you.”

His knuckles go white from the pressure as he jerks Luke even closer nearly nose to nose. Luke’s trembling hand pushes faintly against Rafe’s forearm, a useless attempt to create space but Rafe doesn’t budge. His teeth are clenched so tightly the muscle in his jaw twitches uncomfortably as he spits out,

“I’ll fucking kill you - do you understand me?”

Luke wheezes, a grunt of pain caught in his throat- Rafe lets go, shoving him back down with a vicious force and Luke hits the dirt hard, coughing as dust kicks up around his body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The kitchen at Tannyhill was warm and the air was thick with the scent of roasted garlic and rosemary. Potatoes were crisping in the oven, their edges bubbling in a thin coat of butter and something rich simmered on the stove, a blend of slow-cooked vegetables and herbs filling the space with a mouthwatering aroma. Y/N stood at the counter, dish towel slung over her shoulder, she was almost done, potatoes ready to be turned and veggies needing one last stir. The front door opening then closing echoed in the walls of the house. She froze. Her hand hovered over the tray and her eyes cut towards the hall.

“…Rafe?”

Silence.

Her heart climbed a little higher in her chest.

What if—

“Yeah- it’s me.”

His voice- unmistakable- rang out and relief spilled out of her lungs all at once. She turned back to the tray, nudging the potatoes back into place with the spatula before plating them up. She wiped her palms on the kitchen towel, then reached for the spoon, giving the vegetables a slow, steady stir as her nerves settled. She the oven door open, a soft whoosh of heat rushing out and bent carefully, lifting out the roasted chicken, skin golden and crisped to perfection. Placing it gently onto a serving plate she then carried it over to the kitchen island. Behind her, she heard footsteps across the wood floor.

Rafe appeared in the doorway, drying his hands on a towel he’d clearly snagged from the bathroom. His sleeves were pushed up, knuckles still red and swollen. His eyes swept over the spread on the table before settling on her. He asked with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth,

“What’s this?”

“I made you dinner…”

She said, not quite looking at him as she checked the vegetables one last time. Rafe let out a quiet huff shaking his head.

“I told you to rest.”

“I did rest,” she replied lightly, glancing over her shoulder with a small teasing smile.

“But then I got bored.”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound deep and warm. “You’re unreal,” he muttered as he stepped over to the cabinets, pulling down two plates and grabbing cutlery. “Come sit,” she said,

“It’s pretty much ready.”

“Did you even sit down?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes I did,”

She insisted with a playful bite to her voice, watching him now as he moved around the kitchen, that ease which once used to be between them coming back like muscle memory. He turned to look at her then, closer now, and the playful air dimmed just slightly as his eyes dropped to the bruise blooming on her cheek. Without a word he lifted his hand his fingers brushing lightly along the edge of the fading mark. The color was ugly- yellowing, tinged with green and purple- but healing.

“How’s your cheek?”

He asked quietly, his hand hovering, not quite ready to pull away. She gave a small shrug at his question.

“It’s okay... could be worse.”

Rafe let out a hum at that, not agreement but in not comfort either. It was low and heavy, edged with something like dissatisfaction. Anger still smoldering under the surface of his skin. His thumb lingered just a second longer before he finally lowered his hand, jaw tight as he looked at her. She met his gaze then she blinked it away.“C’mon,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder.

“Sit down. Food’s gonna get cold.”

Rafe nodded, settling opposite her at the kitchen island and he glanced over the food laid out in front of him; roasted chicken, golden potatoes, vegetables glistening in olive oil and herbs. It looked like something out of one of those fancy food magazines. He exhaled a low breath, eyes still moving across the spread.

“… how long have you been here?”

“Not that long,” she said, brushing it off with a shrug, already reaching for the serving spoon. “Here.” She started plating food for him, giving him the best cut of chicken without even thinking twice about it. The way she moved, confident and familiar, it twisted something in his chest. He watched her plate up his food like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And for a second…his mind drifted.

To this.

To every night being like this. Her in the kitchen, his clothes over her frame, the smell of dinner filling the air. Him walking through the door to her, not some silent, cold and empty house. He imagined reaching for a beer from the fridge while she set the table, her rolling her eyes when he tried to sneak a bite before dinner. Her laughing at him… him kissing her forehead… maybe her hand resting on her rounded belly-

His thoughts twitched

"You’re a dumbass for believing whatever little fantasy she’s feeding you."

The words came back to him like static in his skull. Luke's voice, slimy and cruel, but still sharp enough to pierce straight through him. The truth of it tasted sour in his mouth because maybe he was a dumbass. Maybe this; this dinner, this warmth, this imagined life with her- it was all just some fantasy.

A lie he’d dressed up with hope.

She’d told him herself, hadn’t she?

“I can’t do this with you, Rafe.”

Right there in the parking lot, her voice shaking as she said it. He blinked hard, the heat from the food in front of him suddenly doing nothing to warm the cold pit in his stomach. His jaw clenched, breath caught shallow in his throat as she turned and handed him a fork with a soft, distracted smile.

“Thanks”

The rhythmic scrape of forks against ceramic was the only real sound between them for a while. Y/N let out a soft hum as she reached for her glass of water, the condensation cooling her fingers. After a sip, she glanced at him her voice light but laced with uncertainty.

“Is it okay…?”

Rafe didn’t answer right away, finishing his bite and swallowing as he nodded, licking a bit of sauce off his thumb. “S’more than okay,” he said,

“Where’d you learn to cook like this?”

“I worked as kitchen staff in the country club for a bit… learnt a thing or two”

“Yeah no shit… I can't remember the last time I had a home-cooked dinner like this...”

A small smile tugged at her lips and she looked down at her plate, shifting the chicken around absently with her fork, her stomach feeling warm not just from the food she’d consumed but from the knowledge he was enjoying it- that he was satisfied. But before she could relish in the feeling longer her appetite was suddenly curling away from her.

She had to tell him.

She could feel it pressing at her chest, that need to speak, to get it out of her before it dissolved into fear again.

He had to know how she really felt.

He had to.

Her eyes lifted, ready to finally say something- but then her words caught in her throat as her brows furrowed.

“What happened to your hands…?”

Her gaze had landed on his knuckles- raw, red and already blooming with deep bruises. The skin was split on one, crusted with dried blood. The smile faded from her lips as she set her fork down, the soft clink echoing sharper than expected. “Rafe,” she said again this time lower.

“What did you do?”

He didn’t answer right away, just reached for his glass, like he could find something at the bottom of it to help him lie. Rafe let out a sigh, set the glass down with a dull thud. “Nothing,” he said quickly. Too quickly. A shrug followed, like he was trying to brush it off before he repeated himself,

“Nothing.”

Y/N set her cutlery down, the clink sharp in the now tense space between them.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Her brows were pinched, eyes sharp as they searched his face. She knew him, knew when he was bluffing. He held her gaze for a second, jaw tight.

“S’not something you need to worry about.”

“I am worrying about it just answer my questi-”

“It’s nothing to do with you. Let it go”

Before he could say anything else, she pushed herself back from the kitchen island, the legs of her stool scraping against the floor.

“Y/N- wait. Where are you going?”

She was already walking toward the double doors at the front of the house, her bare feet silent against the tile. Her chest was tight with that mix of concern and dread she couldn’t quite name.

“Hey- hey-”

Rafe stepped forward, catching her wrist, turning her around. She pulled it back instantly. His shoulders dropped, “Just—wait,” he breathed.

“I’ll explain.”

She stood her ground, arms crossing over her chest like an armour. Rafe’s hand moved to his face dragging down the length of it like it hurt to even begin to explain. He swept a hand over his buzzed hair, then rested it on the back of his neck. “Can you…” He sighed,

“Can you just come sit down… -please?”

She hesitated for a second, heart in her throat, then gave the smallest nod and followed him back to the kitchen island. The chair scraped softly as she slid back into it and her eyes didn’t leave him. Not once. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap beneath the counter where he wouldn’t notice. Rafe stayed standing for a moment, pacing slightly, like he didn’t know where to begin. Then he dropped into the seat beside her with a heavy exhale. His voice was low,

“I saw your dad.”

The words hit her like a slap. Her entire body stilled, her breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat. She stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted but no sound came. When she finally managed it, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“…what?”

He looked at her, regret flashing across his face, but he didn’t take it back. “I saw him,” he said again, “tonight.” She shook her head slowly like she was trying to rewind time, like maybe she’d misheard him. Her voice broke off before the sentence could form.

“Why—why would you…?”

“Because he put his hands on you and no one gets to do that.”

Her lips pressed into a tight line. She blinked quickly, trying to process it all at once, but it was like the air had thickened around her and it made her throat burn. An odd feeling curled in her stomach- hard to name. At first, she thought it might’ve been anger or maybe dread. Creeping in like it always did when her father was brought up but as she sat there, staring at Rafe, something shifted.

It wasn’t anger.

It wasn’t even sadness.

It was something… unfamiliar.

It was the first time anyone had ever stood up to him for her.

Not just talked back, not just muttered under their breath about how he was a piece of shit when he wasn’t around but really stood up- to his face.

For her.

And it did something to her. Broke something open maybe. This quiet, aching part of her that has lived so long in fear that she forgot what it felt like to be protected, to feel worth protecting. Her eyes burned, and she blinked a few times to fight it off, jaw tightening slightly. She looked at Rafe again; his busted knuckles, his face drawn tight with nerves, with guilt but not regret.

Rafe watched her quietly. She hadn’t said a word since he told her just sat there, eyes wide and a little glassy, like her mind had drifted somewhere else. He shifted on his feet, uneasy.

“Are you… angry at me?”

Her eyes snapped up to his, and she shook her head fast, the word cracking in her throat.

“No- no. I’m not angry at you. Why would I be?”

He nodded slowly, lips pressing into a thin line but something in him still didn’t settle. He pushed himself up from the chair he’d sat in momentarily and stepped towards her. She looked up at him as he came to stand in front of her. Her eyes caught the bruising on his knuckles again, but this time, she didn’t ask. Her breath just stilled in her chest. Rafe’s hand lifted, careful and slow, his fingers brushed over her cheek once more, the pad of his thumb soft against the bruise blooming along her skin. The touch made her eyes flutter for a second. “I promise,” he murmured, voice low and sure.

“He’ll never lay his hands on you again.”

She looked up at him slowly, voice barely a whisper.

“Why did you do it?”

Rafe doesn’t answer right away, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he breathes out slowly, eyes fixed on her face.

“Because no one else was going to.”

His voice is quiet but firm, like the words have lived in his chest for too long. She gazes up at him, stunned by the rawness in his tone, still trying to process the way her stomach twists, not in anger but something else entirely. And then, before he can stop himself he speaks out

“Because I care about you.”

The words tumble out, unpolished and exposed and he flinches like maybe he didn’t mean to say them aloud. Yet he doesn’t take them back, only watches her anticipating her response. Her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek, brow pulling ever so slightly.

“You’re not supposed to...”

His head dips slightly, a scoff of disbelief escaping as he rubs a hand over his chin.

“I can’t help myself Y/N.”

His eyes meet hers again, desperation now barely hidden behind his voice.

“I know what you said to me, okay? I know you don’t want this, that you think this thing between us is too fucked up or too complicated, but I-” He swallows,

“I can’t ignore it- I tried.”

He exhales roughly.

“When I think about you going back to him, to that house, and I think about the way you looked last night-”his voice falters for a second, almost breaking.

“I can’t pretend I don’t feel something. Not when it’s this strong.”

She bites her lip, the pressure of it grounding her, holding back everything she’s been too scared to say. But it doesn’t matter even if she were to bite her lip raw, the truth is clawing its way out of her chest, demanding to be heard. Her voice comes quieter than before, nearly a whisper.

“I came into your room last night.”

The words settle between them and Rafe doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink at first. Then his brows pull together, a subtle shift in his expression.

“I know…” he says, “I noticed the sheets this morning.”

There’s no accusation in his tone, more like something that feels a lot like hope. She nods, a small, almost nervous motion. Her fingers twist together in her lap. “I—” She hesitates, breath catching.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Rafe says nothing. Just watches her, eyes scanning her face like he’s trying to memorize every detail. Like he’s trying to figure out what exactly she’s trying to tell him as her eyes are glassy and her voice barely holding together.

“I couldn’t close my eyes all night but after ten minutes with you I fell asleep because I didn’t feel so- alone. When I’m with you I don’t feel alone...”

And there it is, the truth, trembling and delicate in the space between them. Rafe’s chest rises with a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His hand rests flat on the edge of the kitchen island, fingers lightly curled, like he’s anchoring himself there, like if he moves even a little the whole moment might shatter.

And her eyes drop to it.

Her breath hitches as her hand slowly lifts from her lap, fingers trembling faintly as she reaches out- barely brushing her fingertips against his. A ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to make his hand twitch beneath hers, his fingers turning instinctively to meet the contact. She keeps her gaze down. Her voice comes soft, almost like she’s afraid to speak too loudly and ruin it.

“I don’t know how to stop thinking about you.”

He doesn’t move.

“No matter what I’m doing, my mind just… finds its way back to you.”

She swallows, her fingers pressing a little firmer into his now, her thumb grazing over one of his bruised knuckles.

“And it scares me... because I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone.”

The silence thickens, but not in a bad way. She lifts her gaze finally, looking up at him through lashes damp with emotion.

“I don’t know when it started. I just know I can’t function without you anymore. And I know that I told you I couldn’t do this- but I didn’t mean it. I was scared. I still am. But not of you.” Her voice breaks, but she keeps going, the words tumbling out, ragged and honest.

“I’m scared of how much I feel for you but I’m more scared of pretending it’s not real.”

Her hand is fully wrapped around his now, and Rafe hasn’t said a word. He’s just looking at her like she hung the stars, like this is the first time in his life someone has ever said they need him and meant it. Finally, he lets out barely a whisper,

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“That you feel something for me.”

“I feel everything for you Rafe.”

She rises slowly from the stool, the scrape of wood against tile quiet beneath the heaviness in the room. Now, standing in front of him, she’s close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his skin, close enough to see the way his chest rises and falls a little unevenly. Rafe’s eyes flicker, from her eyes to her lips and back again. Her hand is still on his, their fingers tangled now and her other hand lifts gently, brushing against his arm. He doesn’t speak, he can’t seem to find the voice in his throat to say anything. So she does, her voice quiet but steady.

“I love you Rafe.”

The words feel too big for the air between them and his eyes close for just a beat like the words hit something deep in him he wasn’t ready for but needed all the same. When they open again, they’re glassy but locked on hers.

“Say it again.”

She steps even closer, her breath brushing his chin now.

“I love you.”

And that’s all it takes, he leans down slowly, giving her the chance to move away, but she doesn’t. Her hand slides up, fingers curling around the nape of his neck, and his free hand lifts to her waist. Their lips meet in a kiss that’s soft at first, like both of them are scared they’ll wake up and this will all disappear. But it deepens with every second- slow and aching and full of everything they’ve been too scared to say, everything that’s been building in the silence. When they finally part, just barely, their foreheads rest together, both of them breathless. Rafe’s voice is a whisper,

"You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he murmurs, his forehead still pressed to hers, his breath brushing over her skin. Then right before he leans down again he adds,

“Not with me.”

He catches her lips in another kiss, this one deeper, and she nods into him, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting softly against his as her hand curls around the back of his neck and her other drifts to his jaw, like she needs every part of him under her touch. Their bodies stay close, pressed together, and before she realises he’s moving them- walking them slowly through the kitchen his lips never leaving hers. He speaks between kisses, voice low and earnest against her mouth.

“Gonna give you everything you’ve ever wanted…”

She follows his lead, the heat of his hands anchoring her, the soft rhythm of their mouths like a slow dance. Her thumb brushes under his ear as he mutters again, lips ghosting over hers,

“Nothings gonna hurt you baby.”

Then her skin hits the cool edge of the leather couch behind her knees and he gently guides her down onto it. She sinks into the cushions, pulling him down with her, her hands still holding onto him like she can’t bear to let go. He settles over her his body not a heavy weight but rather wrapping around her like a shield, warm and safe. Between soft, slow kisses, he whispers the words that unravel something deep inside her,

“I love you.”

Not rushed this time. Not desperate. Just sure, the kind of love that’s been living in his chest far longer than he’s been willing to admit. Her breath catches, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes as her lips brush his one more time, and this time there’s no fear in her. The only sound shared between them is the soft rhythm of their breaths and the tender press of their lips.

His hand is cradling her jaw, his thumb brushing beneath her cheekbone with infinite care and then slowly it drifts downward. He kisses her again, a little slower this time, as his fingers slip beneath the hem of her T-shirt. She breathes out just barely against his mouth, not out of surprise but at the warmth of his hand resting against the bare skin of her waist.

His touch is featherlight and he doesn’t rush it. His thumb makes slow, smoothing circles over her skin, like he’s memorizing the shape of her; every curve, every shiver, every quiet breath she gives him.

She melts into him with a sigh, her fingers curling a little tighter into the material the back of his shirt. Her heart is racing- not from nerves, but from the way he’s touching her like she’s something sacred. He pulls back just a little to look at her, eyes dark and soft all at once.

“You okay?”

He asks and she nods, her breath shaky. “I’m okay,” she says, lips brushing his.

“I’m more than okay.”

Her hands move to his chest now, her fingertips skimming over the fabric of his shirt like she wants to feel the beat of his heart beneath it. And when he leans down to kiss her again, his thumb still tracing slow circles into her side, she arches just slightly into his touch- wanting to be closer.

Needing it.

The couch creaks beneath them as they shift, bodies fitting together like pieces meant to find one another. 

Her fingers, once gently clutching the collar of his shirt, start to slide down skimming over the front of his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating hard beneath the fabric. The heat between them has shifted now, not frantic but more heady. She tugs lightly at the hem of his shirt, her breath still mingling with his, lips barely an inch apart.

"Take it off"

She whispers, the words a soft request against his mouth and his eyes open to meet hers.

"You sure?"

He murmurs, voice rough his forehead brushing gently against hers again and she nods, eyes never leaving his.

"I want you to… I want this. With you."

He leans back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind them without looking. Her breath hitches but it's not his shirtless form that leaves her breathless but the dark bruise blooming across his ribcage, purpling the skin in angry shades. Her breath hitches and without thinking her hand lifts, fingertips ghosting carefully over the mark.

“Jesus Rafe…”

He glances down like he forgot it was there then shrugs slightly brushing it off with a quiet,

“It’s nothing...”

But she doesn’t pull her hand away, her palm settles gently against his bruised side grounding both of them and she looks up at him- her gaze soft and almost- guilty. “No,” she whispers, shaking her head slightly.

“It’s not nothing.”

Rafe watches her, his chest rising and falling slowly with her touch and he reaches out placing his palm over her hand which rests upon the bruise, slowly dragging it up to rest it over his pounding heartbeat murmuring out to her,

“I’d do it a million times again if it means you’re safe.”

And something in her cracks open. Her brows pull together, eyes glassy as she leans in to kiss him again- deeper- like she’s trying to pour every unspoken thing into that moment. He’s reaching for her again his hands finding her sides, skin against skin, and his touch feels like warmth and safety and everything she didn’t know she was craving. Her fingers trail down his chest to reach for the hem of her own top, pulling it over her head and dropping it by the edge of the couch, her palms flattening against his bare chest as she arches into him just a little and she's whispering to him,

“Take it off”

Her hands lead his up her body, finding the strap of her bra where it rests along her shoulder. She glances up at him and he nods like he’s honoured she asked. He shifts gently, easing his weight off of her just enough to slip his hand behind her back, fingers carefully finding the clasp. It takes him a second for the tension to loosen, the band loosening around her ribs. She lets out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, and as he pulls the straps down her arms, her eyes never leave his face. He doesn’t look away, not even for a second. Once her bra comes off he lets his eyes trace every inch of her like the sight of her has left him stunned.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long...”

A soft breath catches in her throat at his confession and her fingers find his face again, stroking gently along his jaw as his face dips down again his lips leaving a soft trail of kisses down her neck, scattering them across her skin like a bed of wildflowers in a field. 

Her breath hitched and her hand slipped up to the back of his head as he kissed down her sternum- carefully worshiping the valley between her breast before he paused, eyes flickering up to look at her in quiet questioning. She released her tender bottom lip which was caught between her teeth nodding slightly. Before she could say anything else a soft hum passed her lips as his own closed around her breast, tongue gliding over her peaked nipple carefully waiting for her reaction. Her thighs widened slightly letting his body slot into place comfortably between her legs. His mouth worked against her, tongue languidly dragging across the sensitive skin whilst his other hand reached up, rolling her sensitive bud between his fingers causing her to let out a soft breathy call of his name. His hand trailed down the soft line of her body, fingertips pausing right at the waistband of the sweatpants she’d borrowed from him and his fingers toy with the hem, not pushing forward, just resting there. He lifted his gaze from her body back to her face, searching.

“We don’t have to do this today”

He said his voice low and sincere and she blinked at him before a teasing smile curved at the corner of her lips.

“I thought you said you’ve been waiting for this hmm?”

He let out an amused huff shaking his head,

“You make me sound like a perv.”

She laughed, a melodic sound that slipped into his chest and settled near his heart. “You kinda are,” she teased gently, running a hand over his hair. He sobered slightly, brushing a piece of hair out of her face before murmuring,

“I don’t want it to seem like I’m taking advantage of you.”

Her smile softened, and she reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. “You’re not,” she said honestly.

“I want to do this with you Rafe.”

He stared at her, thumb brushing along her knuckles as though still trying to convince himself this was real.

“Are you sure-”

“-take my pants off before I change my mind.”

She cut him off with a dramatic sigh, hand coming up to hold his face firmly. He groaned through a grin, shaking his head at her sass as he leaned down to kiss her again, amused as he murmured against her lips,

“Alright smart mouth”

His hand slipped back down, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband this time and her breath caught in anticipation. He began to ease the fabric down she lifted her hips to help him slip the sweat pants off, leaving her legs bares, causing the cool air of the house to raise goosebumps across her skin. Then came his touch as he ran his palms down the outside of her thighs, like he was trying to warm her back up and he leaned in, brushing a kiss just below her navel.

Then another, a little lower.

And another.

Trailing down her skin in a path of heat, his lips moved slowly, like he was memorising her. She exhaled shakily, watching him through heavy eyes as his kisses traveled further down her stomach, past her hips, down the inside of her thigh- each one soft and lingering, almost worshipful.

Like he was praying with his mouth.

Like she was something holy.

His lips hovered over the soft skin of her inner thigh, and he looked up at her through thick lashes as his hands came up to lift her thighs, placing them over his shoulders. Instinctively her hand came to his hair her fingers slipping over the short, bristly strands. His hands slid up her legs and came to a stop at her hips, thumbs rubbing small circles onto her skin right above the band of her black panties.

"Was sort of hoping you'd be wearing those pink ones.. you know the ones that say-"

"-Bunny?"

She cuts him off as a smile breaks on to his face telling her all she needed to know. She let out a small humorous hum before speaking out,

"I'm sure that can be arranged..."

"Hmmm- I'd like that"

His murmured back, his head leaning down and she gasped as his breath ghosted over her covered pussy, her body suddenly feeling hotter, the ache between her legs impossible to ignore. He looked up at her then, his eyes darker than before.

"Tell me what you need Bunny"

He spoke his voice low. Y/N's breath hitched as she shook her head, trying to maintain some semblance of control. She hated herself for giving into him so easily, she'd always told herself if this ever were to happen she'd be the one in-control, she'd be the one placing the cards on the table. But she can't seem to find the strength to stop him, his touch is like a drug and she's not ready to deal with the withdrawals.

"I..."

Rafe merely smirked as he looked up to her, his pupils blown wide as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to her covered mound.

"Gotta speak up baby"

Her mouth parted, trembling at his movements and she couldn't help but let out a pitiful whimper at his actions.

"Use your words"

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down her legs, throwing them somewhere across the room as he pushed her back against the couch; resting her thighs over his shoulders once more as he settled between her legs, his hand coming up to spread her folds, already damp with her arousal.

"I want you to touch me"

She breathed out as he looked up to her, his hands slowly running up and down her thighs, causing the heat between her thighs to become unbearable.

"Where d'you want me to touch you?"

He breathed out, his breath ghosting over her pussy making her hips buck into his face, to which his hand came down to her lower stomach, pressing her back down into the leather of the couch, his bicep flexing at the motion.

"Right here?"

"Rafe- plea-"

She started but was cut off when his mouth pressed against her, tongue delving between her folds with a hunger that made her cry out. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, stifling her moan as she writhed beneath him. "Don't," he spoke out, one of his hands letting go of her thigh to pull her hand away from her face, intertwining their fingers,

"I wanna hear you."

She couldn't help but let a soft moan pass through her lips causing Rafe to groan against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. He licked and sucked, his tongue swirling around her clit with a skill that had her seeing stars."Rafe..." she whimpered, her hips bucking against his face, her hand in his hair pulling him closer.

"Fuck- just like that... please. Please don't stop"

He obliged, doubling his efforts as he brought his hand which was resting on her thigh down to her sopping wet hole which was desperately clenching around nothing. Sucking her clit back between his lips his middle finger came out, slowly circling her entrance before pushing in with ease, her pussy pulling him in with no resistance. A loud whine spilled from her lips and Y/N let her head drop back against the back of the couch, eyes fluttering shut as her heels dug into his back, her hips lifting to meet his mouth. She could feel the pleasure building inside her, coiling tighter and tighter with each stroke of his tongue.

Rafe pulled back, fingers still languidly moving against as her eyes shoot open looking down to him. He's grinning up at her his chin glistening with her arousal. She whimpered at the sight of him her body shivering with need as she stared down at him with hazy, lust-filled eyes.

"That feel good baby?"

He murmured, his voice low and seductive. It wasn't a question but rather a statement, one that sent shivers down her spine. She blinked trying to process his words through the fog of desire clouding her mind as his fingers still worked in and out of her, curling slightly causing her to swallow harshly.

"Yes- yes-"

She whined out her voice breathy and needy.

"This what you wanted? My mouth against this pretty pussy..."

Rafe trailed his tongue up the thigh, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. She moaned, her hips bucking against his face as she sought more friction, more pleasure. "Yes-" she gasped, her hand which wasn't gripping the edge of the couch flying to the back of his head, eagerly pushing his back towards her pussy.

"Yes! Oh shit I- please Rafe"

He hummed the sound low in his throat as he pressed a kiss to her throbbing clit, his tongue delving between her folds with a hunger that stole her breath. She groaned out, her head tilting forwards to watch him indulge in her- her mouth falling open slightly as she rocked against his face. He licked and sucked, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs as he held her in place. "Fuck," she whimpered, her body trembling on the edge of ecstasy.

"Don't stop oh- please don't stop."

He didn't, why would he when she was a such a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. Her body tensed, her thighs trembling around his head as she chased the euphoric feeling. She whimpered, her voice high and desperate.

"I'm gonna cum- I'm gonna fucking cum"

He grunted against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body which sent her over the edge. Her body trembled, thighs clamping around his head and her walls tightening around his fingers. Rafe's hips ground against the couch slightly to try ease the throbbing feeling in his briefs at the sound of her cries of pleasure as he continued to work her through her orgasm.

"That's it sweet girl"

He murmured out comfortingly and she could've sworn her vision blurred as the words left his mouth. When she finally came down she was panting, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Rafe pulled himself away from her slightly, sitting back on his heels. His fingers, which were soaked in her release, lifted up to his mouth, his tongue gliding over them, cleaning them free of her arousal. Y/N blinked up at him her body still trembling with aftershocks and she couldn't help but feel the heat rising in between her legs again at the lewd sight of him in front of her.

Rafe merely smirked his hand sliding up to cup her cheek, pulling her closer to him. Y/N leaned forward, pressing her lips to Rafe's in a kiss. He groaned against her mouth, his hand sliding up to rest on her hip as he deepened the kiss. She could taste herself on him, and some sick part of her couldn't help the twist in the pit of her stomach that she got to have him like this. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entry, and she granted it without hesitation. Their tongues tangled, a sloppy, wet kiss that left no doubt about what they both wanted.

Rafe’s hand moved as the other remained cupping her face, sliding down to grip her hip as he ground himself against her, his hardness pressing insistently into her through his jeans and she gasped into the kiss, the feeling of the rough denim against her making her shudder, her nails digging into his shoulders. His lips moulded with hers like he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t breathe unless he had her right there.

“I need you.” He mumbled against her, “You don’t get it Y/N…” His breath hitched as his hand slipped to her spine, pulling her up against him.

“Fuck- I need you so bad it hurts.”

She pulled back slightly, her breath coming hot and heavy, her eyes searching his. She whispered her voice steady despite the burning heat building up inside her,

“I’m right here”

Without breaking their gaze, she reached down her fingers brushing against the buckle of his belt. Her movements were almost hurried, driven by a need that mirrored Rafe's. She undid the belt the, her hands trembling slightly as the sound of the metal clinking accompanied the sound of their heavy breaths in the silent room. She wanted to squeeze her thighs together to relieve the ache between them but his presence between them stopped her from doing so. His hand came down to help her pushed his jeans down along with his briefs, letting his cock stand tall against his lower stomach, his tip already glistening in his pre-cum.

"Look at what you do to me- can't even fucking think straight with you around me."

His eyes darkened, his pupils dilating as he stared at her, his desire laid bare. Her hand wrapped around him, her fingers closing around his hard length and she felt him shudder at her touch. She began to pump him slowly, her grip firm but gentle, her thumb brushing over his sensitive head. Rafe’s eyes fluttered closed, his head dropping to rest in the crook of her neck. A heavy groan escaped him, his breath hot against her skin as he exhaled through his nose. He mutters, his voice thick with need.

“You’ve ruined me... fuck- you've ruined me for anyone else.”

His voice is rough and hoarse, his gaze locked on her hand moving over his cock and as his hips jerk in her grip. Her other hand slid up his chest tracing the contours of his muscles, her touch light and teasing. She leaned in her lips brushing against his ear before placing a soft kiss right below it, “Good,” she murmured her mouth brushing the edge of his jaw now,

“Because I don’t want you touching anyone else.”

Her words are almost sultry and his eyes roll slightly at the sound of her voice and before he could respond she shifted her weight, pushing him back against the sofa. Rafe’s flutter open at the sudden movement, a mix of surprise and arousal flashing across his face as he felt her straddling him, her legs bracketing his hips. He opened his mouth to speak but her lips crashed against his, tongues tangling hungrily as if they were trying to consume each other. Y/N's hands comes up from where they rest steadily on his shoulder to grip his face, mumbling out raggedly,

"Open your mouth"

He silently complies and she leans into him, wantonly taking his tongue into her mouth, her grip firm on his face as her cheeks hollow slightly as she sucks. Rafe let out what sounded like a low growl from his throat, his hands sliding down her back, his touch hungry as his fingers grip her ass before moving to run up and down her waist, pulling her closer. She ground down against him, her hips moving urgently, the friction electric, her core aching with need as she felt his hardness beneath her.

Y/N pulled away, pupils blown wide as her hand came up to wipe her fingers against the smudge of drool which collected by the corner of her lips. Rafe's hand moved to grab her wrist, guiding her spit slickened fingers to his mouth, his tongue swirling around her digits. As he slipped them out his mouth he brought her hand down, wrapping it around his heavy cock once more.

"You gonna give me what I want now hmmm... ?"

He breathed out against her neck, his nose running along her skin before his lips pressed against her, sucking hungrily, promising to leave a mark behind.

"Gonna be a good girl and fuck me Bunny?"

He cooed and Y/N couldn't help but shiver as she nodded to him, raising herself on her knees as Rafe shuffled beneath her, his hand wrapped around himself, slowly guiding his tip between her wet folds. A soft moan passed her lips as he bumped into her clit and her hands came out to steady herself on his shoulders. As he teased her weeping hole her mouth fell open,

"Rafe-"

"I know baby"

She couldn't hold back the loud moan which escaped her lips as she eased herself down onto him, her eyes fluttering shut at the stretch of him. She bottomed out against him, her own arousal dripping down onto his thighs.

"Fuccckk"

Rafe groaned out roughly, head tipping back against the couch momentarily as his hands griped onto her hips harshly to steady himself. "Fuck-", he choked out,

"So fuckin' tight"

He'd thought about this moments for months, every night when he couldn't sleep and his hand would slip under the covers it was her he would think of. And now that she was finally here, in front of him, so hot and wet against him- he had to squeeze his eyes shut and ground himself or else it would be over far too quickly.

As his eyes opened they found Y/N's as she leaned back and began to move, her hips raising slightly before dropping back down onto him. Her hands slid down to rest on his chest as she rocked her hips against him in a rhythm that was addictive.

“Fuck, you feel so good” 

He groaned, his voice thick with desire as his lips trailed down her neck. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples sending shivers of pleasure through her body. Y/N moaned, her head falling back as she arched into his touch, her hips continuing to move in a rhythm that was starting to become desperate. She groaned out as she leaned down, her lips hovering over his. 

“Tell me how good I feel”

“You feel so fucking good baby” 

Rafe’s eyes locked onto hers as he spoke, his hands gripping her ass a little tighter. 

“Like you were made for me.”

Y/N whined as she leaned into him, her lips brushing his once more, her body pressing down onto him with increasing urgency. The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing accompanied by the wet slapping of skin against skin and their tangled moans.

"So fucking perfect for me"

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed at his words, her head tilting back as she surrendered to the sensations flooding her senses. Her breasts rose and fell with each movement, nipples brushing against his chest with each rock of her hips- causing her to slip her bottom lip between her teeth biting down at the feeling. "Harder," Rafe spoke out, his voice a command laced with pure and utter desperation,

"Take me harder baby"

She didn't need to be told twice as her hips carnally snapped against his, her moans becoming unrestraint as she chased after that pleasurable peak building within her. Rafe's hands dragging over her skin as he met her thrusts, his hips bucking upwards and his hand slipping down to rub tight circles on her pulsing clit. He couldn't help himself as he looked down, watching his cock disappear in and out of her, a white ring of her arousal forming at the base of him causing him to feel completely intoxicated. Y/N's nails frantically dug into his shoulders- sure to leave marks that would serve as a reminder tomorrow.

As her cries of Rafe's name became whiner he could tell she was close to the edge of ecstasy, the pace of her rhythmic bouncing in his lap stuttering, which caused his hands to move to her hips, his grip firm as he took control. 

“I’ve got you” 

He hummed into her ear, his voice steady and reassuring. His hand pressed into the soft flesh of her hips, guiding her movements as he set a rhythm to help ease that tense coil within her which was ready to snap. Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, her body trembling as she rested her hands around the back of his neck. “Oh fuck- Rafe!” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as her climax approached. 

“Don’t stop-”

He didn’t, his hands moved with purpose, dragging her up and down his cock his own body tensing with anticipation. “Come for me,” he grunted out, his lips pressing against her neck, his breath hot against her skin. 

“Let go baby I've got you.”

Y/N’s body slumped into him as her orgasm ripped through her, her forehead falling to rest against Rafe's as her walls clenched around him. He followed moments later, his hips jerking sporadically upward as he thrusted into her, shaking groans of her name passing his parted lips. Their breaths were ragged as they clung to each other, drowning in the pleasure of what had been building for months.

As their breathing slowed down Rafe shifted carefully beneath her, one arm cradling her back as he reclined guiding them both down until he was lying fully against the couch cushions and she was against his chest, her cheek finding its place right over his heart. One of his hands stayed on her bare back, the other reaching lazily toward the end of the couch, fingers snagging the blanket tossed over the armrest behind his head.

With a quiet tug he draped it over them, wrapping their tangled bodies in the soft warmth. The fabric brushed against her shoulders, and she instinctively tucked herself closer. Rafe tilted his head slightly his eyes heavy as he looked down at her his fingers tracing lazy, soothing lines up and down her spine.

“You cold?”

He asked his voice a quiet rasp. Y/N blinked slowly her lashes brushing against his skin as she shifted just enough to murmur,

“No… you’re warm.”

A soft sound left him- something between a hum and a chuckle- and his lips tugged upward in a quiet smile. His hand stilled for a moment, resting flat against her back like he couldn’t bear to not be touching her. “So…” Y/N murmured her voice barely louder than the soft rustle of the blanket shifting with them. Her fingers traced idle shapes along the skin of his chest,

“Does this make me your girl now?”

Rafe’s lips quirked upward in amusement but his answer came without hesitation,

“You were my girl long before this.”

She lifted her head just enough to look at him, searching his face for any sign of teasing- but all she saw was truth. His eyes held no doubt, only certainty and that made her chest swell. Without saying anything else she leaned in and pressed a slow tender kiss to his lips, one that lingered a little longer than necessary. Then she sank back down against him, settling into the now familiar warmth of his chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath her ear became like a lullaby to her, eyes fluttering shut with every pass of his hand down her spine and every steady beat in her ear. Her breathing deepened and Rafe just watched her.

“I love you”

He whispered, lips brushing softly over the crown of her head as he spoke. Y/N smiled sleepily, her fingers still making slow, lazy patterns on his chest even as her body melted deeper into rest.

“I love you too Rafe”

And with her nestled against him safe and warm in his arms, Rafe closed his eyes too- vowing to himself he’d never let her go again.

taglist: @xoxosblogsblog @moonywhisp3rs @i-love-gvf @my-name-is-baby@ltristessedureratoujours @stoned-writer @mariamadison6-blog@rafesgurl@rafecameronswhoore @lovelytoomusic @mysticbby2009 @vanessa-rafesgirl@silkenthusiasts @partygirl14 @amterasuu @xoxo-ada @icaqttt@ivysprophecy @mauvesmax @larema121 @ggraycelynn @emeloyy @pluviophilis@slut-4-gojo @willowpains @wtfisastiles @rafecqmeronslove @pleasstory@lolasangelz @beau-dabomb @psychocitylights @constantsadness @rhianthebest@emmiesummers @sfotiegiuls @ggraycelynn @larema121 @emeloyy @pluviophilis@urgoldens @insominagirlss @urfavoritebrunette007 @mauvesmax @miniiminie@kythefangirl25 @niyalovests @scream4mami @aizawawify @prettybabyyyy@barbiefan14 @keennerdslover @rafeysslut @rafeysworldim19@jennieonline@hannieskzzz@sugak00kie03@gabrielaperez11@simonejacpbsen @bambigirl10 @prettycoochieee

[caprisunzz]

hi! i have a req… no pressure at all!!! there’s prob smth like this out there but rafe comes inside at tannyhill from like the boat or something with his shirt off n sarah n her friends are there n they’re saying how hot rafe is n trying to get his attention sarah’s like he’d never even look at you guys bc he’s so in love w reader n then reader like comes in n they see what she means

Hii! Of course, I enjoyed writing this!

It was too hot to do anything except exist.

The sun was baking the backyard into a slow roast, the kind that made people melt into their swimsuits and forget how to function. Sarah had one leg tossed off her lounge chair, lazily fanning herself with the corner of a magazine she hadn’t actually read. Beside her, Tasha, Lila, and Brielle were stretched out like lizards on warm stone — slick with sunscreen, sunglasses in place, loud enough to scare off birds.

The boys — Rafe, Topper, and Kelce — were across the lawn by the pool, all shirtless and way too smug about it. There was a football involved, and a Bluetooth speaker playing something bass-heavy that sounded like summer and bad decisions.

Rafe tossed the ball effortlessly to Topper and then flexed when he caught it. Not like a joke flex. A real one. Like he was aware of his muscles and had a good relationship with mirrors.

Tasha let out a low whistle.

“Okay, I’m sorry, but your brother is hot,” she said, lips parted like she was genuinely in awe.

Sarah didn’t even blink. “Don’t.”

Brielle leaned forward, popping her gum obnoxiously. “No, no — like, actually. I’m sitting here trying not to stare and failing miserably.”

Lila let out a dramatic sigh. “He looks like he’s carved out of marble and parental neglect.”

Sarah rolled her eyes so hard it gave her a headache. “You guys are not serious.”

Tasha turned to her with a grin. “Babe, be honest. If he wasn’t your brother, you’d be all over that.”

“What the hell? If he wasn’t my brother,” Sarah muttered, “I’d probably still think he was a red flag in human form.”

“Red flag, sure,” Lila said, “but a sexy one.”

“You all need serious therapy,” Sarah said. “Immediate, intensive therapy.”

Brielle wasn’t listening. She pulled her sunglasses down just enough to make eyes across the yard. “Do you think he’s single?”

Sarah turned her head slowly. “He has a girlfriend.”

Lila raised an eyebrow. “Is she here?”

“No.”

Tasha smirked. “Then it’s not that serious.”

Sarah sat up on her elbows, suddenly alert. “No. No. Don’t be those girls.”

Brielle was already applying gloss. “What girls?”

“The ones who throw themselves at someone’s boyfriend just because they’re bored and tan.”

“We’re not throwing,” Lila said. “Just… tossing options into the universe.”

“I swear you guys are getting more annoying with the second,” Sarah groaned.

Tasha cupped her hands around her mouth and called out, loud enough to be heard over the speaker.

“Rafe!”

Across the yard, Rafe paused, the football tucked under his arm. He looked over, confused. “Yeah?”

“I think I got sunscreen in my eye,” Tasha said sweetly. “Can you come help?”

Kelce nearly dropped the football. “Yo.”

Topper started laughing. “What is happening right now?”

Sarah slapped a hand over her face. “I’m not here. This isn’t real.”

Rafe raised both eyebrows, glancing at his friends like he wasn’t sure if this was a prank. “Uh… I think you’re supposed to rinse it? With water?”

Tasha stood up, bikini top catching the light just right. “I don’t think I can walk to the hose.”

“Oh my God,” Sarah hissed under her breath.

Rafe just stood there, blinking. “...okay?”

Brielle joined in, waving. “She’s kidding! We’re just hanging out. You guys look hot.”

Lila giggled like she was in a teen rom-com. “Literally and figuratively.”

Sarah nearly choked. “Lila.”

Topper clapped Rafe on the back. “Dude, three girl want you and you didn’t even do anything.”

Rafe looked increasingly weirded out. “Okay…”

“Come over!” Tasha called. “Just for a second!”

Sarah finally sat up straight, pulling off her sunglasses. “Okay, enough.”

All three girls looked at her innocently.

“Seriously?” Sarah said, voice dry. “This is what we’re doing now?”

“What?” Brielle blinked. “We’re just being friendly.”

“No. You’re flirting with my brother. Loudly and Aggressively.”

Tasha shrugged. “Can you blame us?”

Sarah shot her a look. “Yes. I absolutely can.”

Lila pulled her hair over one shoulder. “Look, you don’t have to be defensive just ’cause he’s objectively attractive.”

“He’s also objectively taken,” Sarah snapped. “And not interested. I promise.”

Brielle smirked. “You sure about that?”

Sarah tilted her head. “Do you want to test that theory and get your ego crushed in front of all of us?”

That made them pause. Briefly.

Across the lawn, Rafe was now actively avoiding eye contact and very clearly pretending to listen to Topper, who was rambling about something meaningless just to give him an out.

“I’m trying to save you from humiliating yourselves,” Sarah said, reaching for her water bottle. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I mean,” Lila said slowly, “technically nothing wrong with looking.”

Sarah gave her a flat look. “Lila, if someone was staring at your brother like he was a walking thirst trap and shouting his name while he was trying to chill, would you be chill about it?”

“My brother’s twenty-two and looks like a thumb.”

“Well, imagine if he didn’t,” Sarah said. “And then imagine how I feel.”

Tasha sat down with a dramatic huff. “Fine. Buzzkill.”

Brielle pouted. “I was just bored.”

Sarah sipped her water. “Go bother Topper, then. He’s shirtless and dumb as a rock. You’ll be entertained for hours.”

Topper heard that and raised both arms like he was flattered. “I am available.”

Kelce made a show of flexing. “Me too. In case anyone’s curious.”

“Absolutely not,” Sarah said, deadpan.

Lila reached for the chips. “Okay, but real talk — what’s Rafe’s girlfriend like? Is she the clingy type or like… cool?”

“She’s normal,” Sarah said. “And not here for whatever this is.”

Tasha grinned. “So you’re saying we still have time.”

Sarah shook her head slowly. “I hope you get ghosted for the rest of the year.”

Across the yard, Rafe finally tossed the football to Kelce and muttered something to Topper, before heading toward the house with zero acknowledgment of the girls on the lounge chairs.

“I think we broke him,” Brielle said, watching him go.

“Good,” Sarah muttered. “Maybe now you’ll all shut up.”

They didn’t. But at least they waited until Rafe was out of earshot.

The heat was already clinging to your skin by the time you pulled into the driveway, your windows halfway down and music low.

You didn’t bother turning off the engine right away — just tossed your bag over your shoulder, slid on your sunglasses, and grabbed the iced coffee sweating in your cupholder.

The Cameron house always sounded like summer from three houses away — bass from some speaker, boys yelling about football, girls laughing too loudly.

You swung open the gate and stepped into the sunlight like it owed you something.

“Hi Sarah,” you called casually.

Four heads turned from the lounge chairs. Three of them were not thrilled to see you.

Sarah’s face immediately lit up. “Hey! You’re here.”

You smiled at her, offered a friendly wave to the rest. “Hi, Brielle. Tasha. Lila.”

There was a pause — brief, sharp-edged, and full of girl-coded silence.

Then: Tasha gave you a tight smile, immediately readjusting her bikini top. Brielle nodded like she was doing you a favor. Lila muttered something that sounded vaguely like “cute sunglasses,” but she said it like it wasn’t.

You took a sip of your drink and didn’t bother replying.

Before Sarah could say anything else, there was a familiar sound behind you — the unmistakable slap of feet on pavement and then:

“Hey.”

You turned, already smiling. Rafe had crossed half the yard in maybe ten seconds flat. His swim trunks were low on his hips, but his eyes didn’t leave you once.

He leaned down, pressing a hand to your waist and a kiss to your cheek.

“Didn’t know you were coming.”

“Wanted to surprise you,” you murmured. “You busy?”

He glanced over his shoulder at Topper and Kelce, who were now openly watching like it was reality TV.

“Nah, not anymore,” he said, already reaching for the drink in your hand and taking a sip like it belonged to him.

“I have errands,” you said, arching a brow. “Mall, probably. You in?”

“I’m in.”

“You’re so sweaty.”

“I’ll go change.”

Behind you, the girls were dead silent.

Sarah leaned back on her elbows and smirked.

Rafe turned back to the guys. “I’ll be back later.”

Topper looked like he wanted to say something smart but thought better of it. Kelce just nodded, jaw tight.

You could feel the weight of their stares on your back as you both disappeared inside.

And you didn’t mind one bit.

[caprisunzz]

This Thing We've Started (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader)

Summary: After losing your job and getting caught in a messy on-again/off-again situationship with your ex, your sister Natasha offers to let you stay with her, hoping the distance will help you move on for good. And it does - especially when you meet a charismatic stranger at a bar who’s supposed to be a simple fling. No strings attached. But things get complicated when you run into him again… and find out your sister knows him, too. With that revelation, you swear to stay away - determined not to get dragged into another mess of your own making. But that was easier said than done.

Words: 13.3

Warnings: nsfw, afab!reader, protected and unprotected sex, talks of birth control, p in v, oral f!receiving, fingering, slight praise kink, dirty talk, phone sex, slight erotic choking, creampie, talks of toxic/emotionally abusive/manipulative relationship, swearing, some physical violence, some threats

Other tags: no use of y/n, sibling dynamics, implied older sister!natasha trace but not specified, talking about the story of how phoenix got her callsign, hangmans dirty mouth, slowburn-ish, lots of dialogue (sorry not sorry), secret softie!jake, not really proofread.

a/n: this was the only thing on my mind for like a full week and I'm glad it's finally done and out of my head even though i'm not 100% sure i love the ending lol Comments, likes and reblogs are super greatly appreciated :)

Your sister was supposed to be home a while ago. Instead, only a text came through. 

something came up at work. will be a late one…

sorry :(

Huffing, you threw your phone to the side. 

It wasn’t her fault and you knew that. But Natasha had promised to show you around North Island today and you were looking forward to it. She had picked you up late last night from the airport and barely had time to talk. You hadn’t seen her in a while and phone calls and texts just weren’t the same as hanging out in person.

After losing your job, Nat had offered to let you stay with her for a while, just until you got back on your feet. And also to get you away from your shitty ex Dylan - who’s not really your ex, but definitely should be. It was a messy situation between you two. You had broken up, but somehow he had this strange hold over you that kept you coming back to him. It wasn’t even that you still had feelings for him. You were so over him and his bullshit, but just couldn’t get away. The last resort - distance. Physical distance. And blocking him everywhere. 

You took a week to mull Natasha’s offer over and a few more days to get things in order, booking a flight, packing the necessities and not looking back. 

Just sitting in her apartment now, felt strange. Familiar in a way that you could recognize it as your sister’s - the books, the pictures and pots of plants crammed in every corner and on every surface - but unfamiliar in the simple ways. You didn’t know which drawer held the cutlery or which cupboards kept glasses and plates. You couldn’t even figure out how to turn on the goddamn shower in your en-suite bathroom, having to use the one in hers that was easier to figure out instead. It didn’t feel like home yet. Weren’t sure it ever would or if you’d even stay long enough to get to that point.

Instead of sitting around, you decided to go for a walk down to the beach, to soak up some sun, maybe dip your toes into the sea. It was only May but an unusually sunny day, so you threw on a little flowy dress, leaving your legs bare in case you wanted to wade into the water. 

The walk there was a bit longer than expected. You hadn’t looked it up beforehand, just knew the general direction, but the view at the beach made it all worth it once you got there. The golden sun, the breaking waves, the scent of saltwater in the air. You walked along the water for a while - dipped your toes in once but then decided it was too cold - until you found a spot that invited you to sit down and relax for a while. The sun was setting by then and with it came a noticeable chill. You knew, you should probably get home soon, but you were absolutely parched from the walk and the sun and figured you’d grab a quick drink first.

A quick google told you there was a bar by the beach further back from where you came. You must’ve walked straight past it on your way here but not paid noticed it.

About ten minutes later, you spotted it. The Hard Deck. 

It had a warm, relaxing atmosphere, classic rock softly playing from a jukebox in the background. People were laughing, playing pool and darts - busy, but not overly so. 

Walking up to the bar, you ordered a beer, sat down and glanced around the room before absently scrolling through your phone.

You didn’t look up again until someone spoke.

“Hey there.”

Raising your head, you were met with the green eyes and a dazzling smile, belonging to a ridiculously good-looking guy. He leaned up against the bar, relaxed. 

“Hi,” was all you managed, caught off guard and a little intimidated by his looks. You gave him a quick - hopefully subtle - once over. He wore a plain white t-shirt, jeans and… cowboy boots. An odd choice, maybe, but somehow he made it work. 

“Mind if I sit?” He pointed to the empty seat beside you. 

“No, go for it,” you found your voice again, more confident now, even gave him a small smile. 

“I’m Jake.” He held out his hand and you shook it, giving your name in return. Jake held on to your hand a beat too long, his fingers slightly dragging over yours before he let go.

He was hitting on you, that much was clear. And while you came to stay with Natasha to get away from guys - or at least one specific guy - you decided it wouldn’t hurt to flirt back just a little. 

“I’ve never seen you around here before,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if he knew everyone who frequented this bar, but there was a question buried beneath. A small smirk still on his face as he took you in. 

“Just here visiting.” It wasn’t a lie. You were technically visiting, just for an undetermined amount of time and also sort of moving in with your sister. It was simply easier than to explain the whole ordeal with your ex and your job. 

Jake was undoubtedly military. You’d been to enough of Nat’s graduations and promotions to recognize the type. You could tell by the clean shave and in regs haircut, the way he held himself and that cocky attitude. It all gave him away. 

But then again, the entirety of North Island was basically one big Naval base. Running into military men was inevitable.

“Yet you’re here alone.” Again, a statement meant to be a question.

“My sister was busy.” You smiled and took the last sip from your glass, draining it. 

Placing the it back down on the bar, you were about to get up, start your way back home.

“Can I get you another one?” Jake asked before you could. There was something in his eyes that screamed trouble and that alone should’ve been your sign to decline and leave. However, you didn’t. You stayed. And said yes.

You kept on chatting easily, him asking you questions about yourself and where you were from, but barely revealing anything about himself. Those two beers helped loosening your tongue, making the words come out easier. Maybe it was the drinks, but something about Jake was so irresistible and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. He was charming, confident and cocky, teetering on the edge between infuriating and entertaining. And that slight southern drawl almost made him sound like a gentleman. 

As you kept looking at him, you decided he was exactly what you needed to jumpstart that new chapter of your life. A distraction. Someone to wipe away the traces of your ex-boyfriend off your body. Replace his touch with someone else’s. 

You decided to ask the question you knew would get you what you wanted. 

“So… what does one do for fun around here?” You leaned in closer, voice lower, and looking up at him through your lashes. For a split second he looked surprised, before a wolfish grin spread across his face. 

It all happened very quickly after that. 

Somehow you found yourself in a backroom of the bar, not really sure you were supposed to be there. But it didn’t really matter. Jake’s lips were on yours, hard and hungry. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he pushed you up against the wall. Kissing down your neck, fingers slipping under the dress strap and dragging it off your shoulder, exposing more of your breasts. You held on to his strong arms, his shirt, ran your fingers through his hair - whatever you could reach. 

Soft moans escaped your lips as arousal built in your body. His cock pressed hard against your belly and even through his jeans, he felt huge. 

You needed him. Now. 

Hands finding the buckle of his belt, undoing it quickly before moving to work on the button and fly. And when you pushed your hands down his boxers to grip his length, both of you moaned. He was big, just as you suspected, and you knew he would feel good inside of you. 

Stroking him for a few seconds, then pulling him out. 

“You got a condom?” you asked, breath shaky, biting your lip as you shamelessly ogled his cock. It was perfect. The girth, the length, that perfect pink color that got deeper at the tip. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jake replied, digging in his pockets until he found one. As he tore the wrapper and rolled it on, you quickly shimmied out of your panties and stepped out of them, leaving them discarded on the floor. 

Once finished he reached his right hand between your legs, fingers sliding through the folds of your pussy with ease, gathering up some of the wetness there. A shiver ran through you.

“Fuck, you’re wet.” 

He smirked and then used that same hand to spread your juices over his condom-wrapped cock. You leaned back against the wall, Jake hitched up one of your legs and hooked it around his waist, fingers digging into your thigh as he stepped in closer.

You felt the head of his cock nudging at your center, sliding through the folds once - twice - and then slowly pushing in. 

“God, you’re so tight.” His forehead rested against yours, looking down to where he disappeared inside of you, breath mingling with yours. 

He took his time. More time than you probably had being in the backroom of this bar, but it was necessary with his size. You held on to his shoulders, strong and steady, until he bottomed out. 

A moan shuddered out of you. His lips found yours again, kissing you deeply as he pulled out in a slow drag - then pushed back in. Faster now, harder, and that slight sting of the stretch disappeared, morphing into absolute pleasure. 

You couldn’t help the moans and whimpers that escaped you every time he pushed inside. 

“Shhh, quiet, baby,” he whispered against your lips, his other hand wrapping around your throat. Not squeezing, just settling there, warm and possessive. 

“Unless you want the whole bar to hear how good I’m fucking you.” You could just hear that grin as he spoke.

You bit your bottom lip in response, trying to keep quiet. 

Jake kept moving inside you and it felt incredible, but you needed more to reach your peak. 

Sneaking one hand between your bodies, you started rubbing circles on your clit. 

“That’s it. Touch yourself. Make yourself come on my cock.” His words sounded so deliciously filthy, pushing you closer to the edge.

You knew it wouldn’t take long, but it still surprised you how quickly you were about to come. Only a few more of his deep thrusts, hitting all the right spots inside of you and you fell apart. Your walls clenched around his cock with every wave of release. One final thrust, and he came too, stilling inside. 

His forehead rested against yours as you both caught your breath. Hearts beating fast and heavy. 

Leaning down again, he kissed you. Slower, deeper, languidly. 

Jake eventually pulled out, probably more out of necessity than really wanting to and discarded the condom somewhere as you brushed down your sundress again. He bent down to pick up something, probably the wrapper of the condom and shoved it into his pocket and then grabbing your hand to lead you out of the room. 

Together you walked out to the front, night air cool on your flushed and sweaty skin. He dropped your hand and instead grabbed your face in both of his hands, pulling you into another sweet kiss. 

“You need a ride home?” He offered and it was a nice gesture, but you wanted to walk back home. Cool down a little before being back in Nat’s apartment. 

“I don’t take rides from strangers.” You replied, half-joking. 

“Oh, but I think you just did.” Jake was quick with it and it made you laugh. He laughed too, and it was a warm, comforting sound.

“Can I at least get your number?” He asked and you thought about it for a moment. 

“I don’t think so.” You stepped back as you said it, his hands sliding from your face, a soft smile on your lips to soften the blow. This night was perfect. Uncomplicated and exactly what you needed. 

Swapping numbers would only complicate things and potentially ruin what would be a perfect memory. 

You expected him to push back, ask why. But instead he just nodded, smiled and said: 

“Alright, have a good night, then.” 

You really appreciated it, more than he could probably know.

“Good night,” you whispered, before returning around and starting the walk back to Natasha’s apartment. 

Halfway home you realized you left your panties at the bar. The cool night air drifting under your short dress reminding you of the wetness still lingering there, exposed. It was definitely too late to go back for them so you cut your losses. 

Opening the front door, you snuck inside, not expecting to see Natasha sitting there on the couch. 

A single brow arched as she looked at you in silence. 

"You're home!" You said, happy to see her. You thought she'd either still be at work or already in bed. 

"So are you," she replied in that perfect blend of amusement and scolding only a sibling could master.

"Uh yeah… I was down at the beach." You weren’t ready to tell her everything, at least not yet. Wanting to hold on to it a little longer and bask in the warmth of it. 

"And then?" She knew there was more, could read you like a book. 

"And then... I went to a bar..." you knew you were screwed. 

"Uh-huh..." she wanted you to keep talking.

"And then I met this guy… and we may or may not have fucked in the backroom," you spoke fast, trailing off at the end, hoping she didn’t quite catch it. 

"You did what?!" She looked at you, eyes wide, incredulously. 

"Okay listen, I didn't plan it and it just happened but it was incredible!" You then just went for it, telling her all about it.

"God, his dick was amazing." You sighed wistfully. 

“Long. Thick. Hitting spots I didn’t even know I had.”

Natasha laughed at that, hard, head thrown back. You joined her in it, laughing together for a while until tears blurred your vision. It reminded you of the time you told her about losing your virginity and the absolute disaster it had been - but when you laughed together, it didn’t seem quite so bad.

"Gonna see him again then?" She asked, still with a smirk.

"Nope! Didn't get his number. He asked but I declined.” You shrugged. 

“I just wanna keep it as it is. No strings attached, uncomplicated."  You explained and she nodded.

“Honestly though, it was the best sex I think I've ever had. Makes me wonder why I even bothered with Dylan... I always had to fake it with him. Otherwise he'd get insecure, upset - and tell me it was my fault I couldn't orgasm." 

"Damn, seems like I might actually have to thank that guy for making you see the light," she joked but you knew, a part of her was relieved and happy you were getting over your ex. Which is exactly what she wanted when she asked you to stay with her. 

She probably didn't expect it to be in the form of a bar hookup, but beggars couldn't be choosers. 

“We should go out and have a few drinks next weekend - celebrate your newfound freedom,” Nat suggested and you eagerly agreed. 

The weekend rolled around and you spent Saturday in various spots around North Island - breakfast at a cute cafe, lunch at the beach and dinner at home before you got ready to go out. And everywhere you went, you secretly hoped to run into Jake again. Thinking about your encounter - and him - most nights when you were alone in bed at night.

Natasha wanted to bring you to her favorite bar - the one her team always hung out at - and you were excited to see her usual stomping grounds. 

Driving down, the streets started to look familiar and as she pulled into the parking lot, you realized it was that bar. The one from a week ago. The one whose backroom you shouldn’t be so intimately familiar with. 

And also the very same bar that probably still held your panties in a lost and found box somewhere. 

"This is the bar I went to," you told Nat and you didn't have to elaborate, she knew exactly what you meant.

“Oh! Maybe your mystery man is also gonna be here again,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.  "But at least try and make it home this time before ripping each others clothes off." 

"Ha ha.” You fake laughed. Trying to hide the fact that you had been thinking about him an indecent amount. "I told you I don't want anything more from him."

Then you thought for a second.

"Okay, maybe one more time wouldn't hurt, but definitely nothing more than that!”

“If you say so.” She shrugged you off with a side-eye as she parked the car.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t scanning the crowd for a blonde head of hair and dazzling smile the second you stepped inside. You got a drink at the bar - the first sip of alcohol soothing your nerves a little - turning to look around more from a different vantage point.

And then… there he was. 

Jake.

You grabbed Nats arm, stopping her in her tracks.

"That's him!" You said under your breath, frozen to the spot. Somehow you hadn't expected to see him again and it caught you off guard. 

"Which one?" She whispered back, trying to scour the crowd for the mystery man with the perfect cock you had told her about. 

"That one standing by the pool table!"

Finger pointing subtly at the tall blonde who was talking to someone else.

She looked at you incredulous. ”Wait… Hangman?!"

“No, no, no!” You - of course - had heard stories of Hangman. But the guy you slept with couldn’t be him. 

"The one on the right!" You corrected.

"Yes, Hangman!"

A beat. Silence. 

Realization dawned on you

"No...". 

"Yes..." Natasha replied, with an exhausted sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

"But... he said his name was Jake!” Trying to make sense of it, even though you knew it was hopeless.

"Well Hangman is obviously not his real name!” 

You both went quiet, sitting with the weight of that realization.

Hangman. The cocky fighter pilot from Natasha’s team who knew exactly how to push everyone’s buttons, riling them up and smirking his way through it.

“Jesus, I can't believe you slept with him!” She whisper-yelled, gearing back up again and smacking your arm.

"Ouch!" You rubbed where she had hit.

"Why did you have to tell me about his dick? God, I need to get very, very drunk and kill off all the brain cells that remember what you told me about him.” Natasha genuinely looked like she was going to be sick.

"How was I supposed to know it was him?!” You tried shifting the blame.  “You always made him sound like the devil incarnate and that night... he definitely was not." Or maybe he was, the way he made you feel like pure sin and ecstasy.

"You should've just... known! Felt it, I don't know."

It was your turn to sigh now. In truth, you had felt something, but it had nothing to do with his identity - and a lot more with an orgasm. 

"Next time I'm gonna need pictures of all the people I'm not supposed to sleep with." You deadpanned.

"Next time, just don't sleep with people you barely know!” 

She got you there.

“Don’t slut shame me,” you said, half-joking. Nat just rolled her eyes.

In that moment you felt eyes boring into you, still frozen at the bar. 

His gaze landed on Natasha first, giving her a familiar, easy smile and then they shifted to you. For a split second it faltered. Recognition setting in as he put two and two together.

His smile returned, teeth on full display as he started walking over. Like a predator stalking its prey, poised to pounce.

His smirk only widened as he closed the distance.

Flashbacks of last night invading your mind, making your heart race. 

Natasha was the first one to speak up.

"Don't even fucking look at me right now, Hangman,” she said before walking away, holding up a warning finger to Jake, before storming off to the other side of the bar, shaking her head.

Jake turned his attention back to you, that smile still curling at the corners of his lips.

“Phoenix is your-“ He started, using Natasha’s callsign.  

“My sister,” you confirmed, finishing his sentence. “Yes.”

“And she…?” He trailed off, as if unsure what to say next.

“Yup. She knows.” You nodded, biting your lip, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish. 

He nodded slowly in return, taking it all in. 

“Well, she seemed thrilled.” He was clearly being sarcastic, but it earned a huff from you. 

“I might’ve described your cock to her. In vivid detail,” you admitted. That made him laugh. 

“All good, I hope?” Jake wanted to know, but you didn’t bother replying, your eyes probably said it all. So you just laughed. 

“I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he said, his gaze roaming your body, softening slightly when it landed on your face. 

“Me neither.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Part of you was thrilled to see him again, the other part heard alarm bells ring, loud and clear. 

And that tingling feeling low in your belly that almost felt like butterflies? That needed smothering immediately.

On one hand, you wanted a repeat of last week, throw caution to the wind and indulge in him, have fun. On the other hand… you knew it’d get complicated. Especially now that you knew he worked with Natasha and that as long as you were around her, he’d be around, too. 

You took a small sip from your drink, eyes never leaving his. The kind of eye contact some might even call glorified eye-fucking. That’s when he stepped closer, invading your space. His cologne hit you, waking a memory, pulling you right back into that backroom. 

He was tall and so close, you had to tilt your head further to look at him. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he said, face suddenly more serious. Voice dropping lower, quieter. The noise around you seemingly drowned out by his sheer presence and Jake being the only thing you could focus on. 

You nodded, swallowing hard. Agreeing before your brain could even weigh in. 

“Let me take you out,” he said, surprising you. You expected him to offer you another romp, but not an actual date.

“I can’t…” Those two words even shocked yourself a little, because you desperately wanted to say yes.

“Because of Phoenix?” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked again - clearly finding the situation amusing.

“It’s not just that,” you said.

“Bad break up?” 

Your whole face dropped. You couldn’t believe the way he just hit the nail squarely on the head. How on earth could he have possibly known that?

“Something like that,” you admitted quietly, shrugging lightly.

He leaned in, close enough that his chest brushed against you, reaching for something, grabbing a pen and napkin from behind the bar.

Quickly, he scribbled a few numbers down before sliding it closer to you.

“If you ever wanna talk. Not talk,” he smirked. “Or if you just want your panties back.”

You looked down on the napkin at a row of numbers that was clearly his phone number and then his words hit you. A blush spread across your face. Remembering when he had picked something up after you were done fucking against the wall, having believed it to be the condom wrapper, but it must’ve been your panties. 

He gave you a wink, another one of his smirks and walked off before you could say anything else. 

You found Natasha in the corner and slid onto a chair beside her. 

“Jake is holding my panties hostage,” you told her, that napkin with his number tightly clenched in your fist, hiding it from Nat. 

“I did not need to know that a guy on my team is a panty-stealing pervert,” she said flatly.

“But truly, I am not even surprised.” Her tone was bleak like she had accepted the fact that she’d be learning more about Hangman than she ever wanted. 

You sat in silence with Natasha for a while, drinking. Your eyes kept drifting across the bar and occasionally landing on Jake, even though you tried really hard not to look at him. But the few times he caught you staring, he gave you a knowing smirk, making your heart race. The napkin with his number burning a hole in the pocket you had shoved it in. 

"Okay," Nat sat up straighter in her seat. 

"All those guys over there—" she pointed to a group near Jake, then to a few more in a different corner playing darts. “—are on my team. Therefore I would greatly recommend, suggest and deeply appreciate if you didn't sleep with any more of them." 

You laughed. 

"Noted." You nodded.

Not a problem. 

Because the number of the only one who caught your attention was already in your pocket. 

More drinks were poured. 

At some point Nat introduced you to some of the others, still glaring daggers at Hangman though and very obviously avoiding bringing you anywhere near him. 

You and Jake were like two planets moving in each other’s orbit. Gravity keeping you tethered. He shifted a few feet to the right - so did you. 

Always keeping your distance, but never not aware of where he was. 

You ended up chatting with Rooster (which, you assumed, wasn’t his real name either) for quite a while. He and Natasha were quite close and you could see why - there was just something so effortlessly likable about him. He was funny, friendly and tried to integrate you into the group so you wouldn’t feel left out. 

“I just gotta ask,” Rooster said, lowering his voice conspiratorially - words slightly slurred.

“Is it true?”

You had a feeling you knew what he meant, but played dumb. Forcing him to say it out loud. If he wanted to get drunk and ask embarrassing questions, then he needs to have the balls to ask them outright. 

“Is what true?”

“You know…” He looked at you, then at Jake who was standing somewhere to your right, then back at you. You didn’t say anything but you couldn’t quite fight the smile creeping onto your lips.

“You and Hangman? The whole squad is talking about it,” he whispered, like it was some big, terrible secret that should never be said out loud. 

Your eyes flicked to Jake, who seemed to be following your conversation with Rooster with great interest, even though he tried not show it. 

“It’s true,” you confirmed, lips pressed together, nodding. 

“How?” He kept asking. 

“You know, when a boy and a girl really like each other-“ you were about to mess with him, but he cut you off.

“No, obviously I get that part, but just… I don’t know, he’s just… Hangman.” 

“And I didn’t know that.” You explained. “I just thought he was hot. Confident. Weirdly charming in that cocky way. Everything that my ex wasn’t.” 

You shrugged like it was the simplest thing on earth. And honestly, you couldn’t understand why Rooster didn’t get it.

The rest of the night went pretty smoothly, all things considered. You left the car behind and walked home, sobering both you and Nat up, while talking about everything and nothing. 

Once you were back at the apartment, ready for bed, you pulled that napkin from your pocket again. 

You made sure the door was shut, somehow nervous to get caught by your sister with Jake’s number, as you saved it in your phone. You could’ve thrown it away. But instead you slipped it into your nightstand. Not really sure why. It just felt right.

Staring at the new contact, simply labeled Jake, you contemplated texting him. 

Hovering your finger over it multiple times,. Again. And again. Then you finally just went for it.

I hope my panties safe while you’re holding them hostage. 

You reread the sentence a dozen times. Rewrote it. Scrapped it. Wrote it again. And then hit send.

Immediately you flipped your phone over, not wanting to see if its been delivered, if he’s read it or even typing already. 

You were just about to crawl under the covers when your phone vibrated. Just once. 

Waiting a full minute, you picked it up, not wanting to seem too eager. Not even to yourself.

Of course. They’re my most treasured item. 

He didn’t even ask who it was. Didn’t need to. Unless, of course, he had a secret stash of women’s underwear at home.

You thought for a second, then typed out your reply. 

Hope you’re not using them for any funny business. 

The three typing dots appeared instantly. 

Can’t promise that…

You let out a quiet laugh, but at the same time, you thighs shifted. Pressing together, trying to soothe the slow ache building there.

A mental picture invading your mind. Of Jake with his cock in one hand and your panties in the other. Wondering if he would use them to jerk off, rubbing them over his cock or hold them up to his face, inhaling the scent of your pussy soaked into the cotton.

Maybe you should keep them then, you sent back.

Suddenly the idea didn’t seem too bad. 

I’m willing to trade. 

Jake was baiting you, it was obvious. But you bit. 

For what?

He took longer to reply this time. 

A date. 

You sighed. Of course he would ask again. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to, it was simply for the fact that it felt wrong. Even just texting him felt like going behind your sister’s back.

Told you I can’t do that. 

Then I’ll just have to hold on to them a little longer, he answered.

You didn’t text back. Partly because you didn’t know what else to say, but mostly because you were conflicted. So turned on it almost hurt - and aching in a way you didn’t want to name.

This was exactly what you didn’t want. Complications. Feelings. 

And whatever this was turning into felt a lot like both. 

You knew, if you were smart, you’d cut this off right here, right now. Forget the backroom and his smirk. Forget all of him and delete his number. 

But you didn’t. 

You just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

Instead, you went to sleep. Horny. Frustrated. And aching with something deeper. 

Two weeks passed, which you spent focused on yourself, banishing any and all thoughts of certain off-limits aviators. Instead you were sending out job applications for back home but also around town - just trying to land something that would keep your head above water for a while.

Of course, Natasha didn't need you to pay rent but you also didn't want to be a complete freeloader and live off of her and your savings. 

During that time you also eyed your phone an awful lot, fingers twitching to text Jake, but every time you stopped yourself. Did it help with those pesky, budding, lingering feelings? Absolutely not. 

So it surprised you when your phone got a text on Friday afternoon.

You should come with Phoenix to the bonfire tonight.

He didn't ask, but it also wasn't an order. But there was a hidden plea in that invitation.

An I want you to come to the bonfire tonight or a please come to the bonfire.

In truth, you hadn’t known it was happening, Nat not having mentioned it, but she's been busy with work too. 

You didn't know how to bring it up to her without revealing that you've been texting with Jake. 

So when she came home from work that evening you subtly asked:

"Any plans tonight?"

She put down her bag and took off her boots.

"Uh, actually there's a bonfire down at the beach by the hard deck tonight. We should go, they're usually pretty fun." 

You tried to hide your excitement.

"Oh, cool yeah! That does sound fun."

You were surprised when she offered up the invitation so easily. It seems two weeks without any reminders of your sexual exploits with Jake have put her mind at ease and calmed her down. 

And now that you had the confirmation that you were going, you secretly sent Jake a text back. 

We'll be there.

You had a quick dinner with your sister and got ready after. You opted for a short skirt (for no particular reason) and a pretty low cut top (also for no particular reason). The fact that Jake would be there absolutely not being a deciding factor in what you wore. At least that's what you told yourself. 

You got there just as the sun was starting to set and the fire was already burning. People crowded around it, many of Nat's squad but also lots of other people. It didn't take long for you to spot Jake. Beer bottle in hand, wearing a pair of shorts and being completely shirtless - illuminated by the setting sun, making his skin look golden, accentuating every line of his abs. He looked like a fucking Greek god. 

Your mouth almost started to water. 

You and Nat made a round. Saying hi to Rooster who handed you beers and talking to some others, introducing you to new people. You and your sister took a few pictures together, smiling into the camera with the sunset in the background.

She even introduced you to Maverick, her team leader, and Penny who owns the bar. You really hoped she was oblivious to what you had done in her backroom or the blush dusting your cheeks as she was talking to you.

The sun had almost set and you and Jake seemed to fall into the same dance as before. Avoiding each other with practiced ease. 

You looked over at him at one point in the evening and saw he had his phone in his hand. Not two seconds later yours buzzed. 

Brows furrowed you pulled it out and saw the text was from Jake. 

Nice skirt. 

You glanced back at him and saw his eyes trail the entirety of your body before he started typing again.

If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask. 

Who says I wore it for you? You grinned down at your phone.

Either way… you got it, he quickly replied. And it’s making me think some very indecent things. 

You bit your lip and chanced another look at him as his eyes flicked up at you before he started typing against.

Reminds me of how pretty you looked in your dress that first night.  And even prettier with it bunched up around your waist when I was fucking you. 

Your smile dropped as arousal started building maddeningly fast, tugging low in your belly. You quickly looked around, checking to see if anyone noticed anything and angling your phone slightly away from Natasha standing next to you. But she seemed blissfully ignorant to what was going on and continued talking to some guy whose name you've already forgotten again. 

Careful..., you only answered, heart pounding. You were playing a dangerous game. 

Or what?

Jake was calling your bluff. He knew he had you hooked and all he had to do was reel you in. 

Another glance over at him told you everything you needed to know. Even from a distance you could see his eyes had darkened as he took you in. 

"Who are you texting?" Natasha ripped you out of the moment and you quickly put your phone away. 

"No one." You lied, badly. 

She eyed you intently, but dropped it. 

The night went on and there was a new electricity in the air. You had been aware of his presence and had felt his looks on you before, but it was dialed up to a new level now. 

As the bonfire died down and people started leaving, you decided to help with the clean up. It would help keep you distracted from Jake and it also felt like atonement for the sex in Penny's bar, at least a tiny bit.

Grabbing an empty crate and you started collecting empty glass bottles before carrying them inside to where Penny had shown you. 

You were on your second round, placing the crate down in the back of the bar, the glass bottles rattling loudly, when you turned around and bumped into someone. 

Instinctively you knew who it was - could feel it in the press of his body against yours, the smell of his cologne and the steadying hands on your hips.

Jake.

You looked up at him. 

At some point in the night he had put on a shirt, but it was so tight, you could still see every groove of his hard muscles.

"Were you following me?" You breathed out quietly.

"Maybe." He shrugged, a slight curve of a smile on his lips. "Had to get you alone somehow."

"To do what?" You asked, barely above a whisper.

"What I've been wanting to do all night." He whispered back, eyes dark and hungry.

Jake’s hands that had been resting on your hips started slowly sliding down and to your front, until they reached the hem of your short skirt. 

His fingertips grazing the skin of your bare thigh and running underneath it.

You tried to hide the breath hitching in your throat, but Jake noticed. 

Of course he noticed. 

His fingers pushed up higher under your skirt until they found the seam of your underwear in the crease of your thigh.

"I bet you're wet already," he muttered as he leaned down an inch, towering over you.

You shook your head, denying it even though you knew it was futile. 

One of his fingers pushed underneath the fabric, pulling it aside just enough to run a probing finger through your folds. Proven right by the wetness he found there.

A dark, knowing smile spread on his lips.

"Liar."

He leaned in closer, lips only mere inches away from yours when suddenly you heard footsteps approaching, followed by someone calling your name. Natasha. 

Jake and you seemed to realize it at the same time and jumped apart, quickly righting your skirt and trying to get your breathing back under control when she rounded the corner. 

She saw you first - then Jake. 

"Jesus Christ," she sighed exasperatedly. 

"Jake was just -" you said.

"I was only-" Jake started talking at the same time, both trying to pretend like nothing was happening and it was pure coincidence you were both back here alone. 

"Do you think I'm dumb?" She asked, cutting you both off, anger lacing her voice.

"Did you really think I didn't notice you texting and eye-fucking each other all night?" It was a rhetorical question and you remained silent. You couldn't even really look at her, feeling ashamed in a way. 

“You and I will talk after," she looked at you before turning to Jake. 

"And you..." she took a deep breath, trying to control herself as she stepped closer to him

"I swear to god, Hangman, if you're just fucking around with my sister and hurt her, I will cut off your dick and balls and feed ‘em to you." She underlined her words by stabbing him in his chest with her finger. She was furious, you could tell.

In her mind, it was probably one thing to sleep with you once when he didn't know who you were. But now - flirting, texting and continuing whatever this was behind her back... that's where she drew the line.

"She doesn't fucking deserve that.” Her voice got low, threatening, and Jake had the good sense to look scared. 

He held up his hands, not fighting it, just taking what she had to dish out.

"Got it." He said, jaw clenching.

Nat glared at him a little longer before backing away. 

"Let's go," she turned back to you, already walking out. 

You muttered a quick sorry to Jake before following her, head bowed.

Natasha kept walking - home - you realized and you stayed a few steps behind, waiting for her to talk first. But when she didn't, you knew you had to say something. 

"I'm sorry," you said and your sister stopped in her tracks. 

"I'm sorry for... sneaking around with him." You sighed. 

"I swear I tried to stay away."

Finally she turned around and looked at you. 

"Listen, Hangman is part of my squad and I trust him with my life, but I don't trust him not to break your heart," she said.

"I've known him for years now and I know he loves a challenge. The thrill of the chase. Winning. And I'm not saying that it's impossible he might feel more, I just want you to be careful." Her eyes softened and her shoulders sagged slightly. The fight leaving her body. 

"You finally got over and away from Dylan. You're doing better, and I don't want you to stumble into something else that might break you again."

You knew she was right and she had every reason to be upset. And you couldn't even blame her because you weren't even sure Jake wanted more than just sex. Yes, he had asked you out on a date - twice - but was it just a means to an end? Wine and dine you to get you into bed again?

You took her words to heart. Kept thinking about them the entire walk home and even after as you went to bed. Nat was a good judge of character, always had been, proven in the fact she hated your ex Dylan, even if she couldn’t put her finger on it at first. 

So maybe you should listen to her, when she told you that Jake’s motivation might not be any deeper feelings he might harbor for you, but simply the excitement of something forbidden. 

It didn’t even make you feel better when you woke up to a text from him he had sent last night after you’d gone to sleep. 

Everything alright between you and Phoenix?

You saw everything through a different lens now - couldn’t help but wonder if he asked because he was genuinely worried or just to check if he was going to be in more trouble with your sister.

For a minute, you genuinely considered not even texting back, but the thought it if made you feel bad. Instead you did something else. You pressed the call button, pressing the phone to your ear.

It was still early in the morning, but you hoped he was awake already. 

The phone rang for a while and you almost suspected he wasn’t going to pick up, until he did. 

Silence and shuffling on the other end of the line.

“Hello?” Jake’s voice came down the phone, deeper and a little rough. 

“Hey… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” you replied, suddenly feeling shy. This felt a lot more personal than texting. 

“No it’s okay. Is everything alright?” He sounded a little clearer, shaking off the tiredness. 

“Yeah, Nat and I had a talk last night,” you began explaining. “She’s just worried about me, you know.”

“I know, I get that.”

“It’s just after that whole thing with my ex…” Your voice trailed off. 

You’d never really spoken to him about it, except for the one time he correctly guessed that you’d been through a bad break up and you more or less confirmed it.

And maybe it was time to come clean. Actually talk about things - reveal your back story so he could understand - putting the ball back in his court that way. He could decide if he was still interested afterwards.

“You can tell me about it,” he said as if he knew what had been on your mind.

You took a deep breath.

“Dylan and I were in a weird, toxic and messy relationship for almost three years and in those three years, we broke up like five times.” you laughed a little at how absurd it sounded now.

“At first it was great, we were in love. Happy. But only a few months in, we started fighting. A lot. Mostly because he was jealous and insecure - accused me of cheating if I even so much as looked at another man.”

“Sounds like a great guy,” Jake spoke up, sarcasm dripping from his words with a bitter note. 

“Yeah… we broke up for the first time shortly after our first anniversary. I’d had enough of the incessant fighting. I knew it was bad then, but I still gave him another chance when he came crawling back the next day, a huge bouquet of red roses in his arms, promising he would change.” You let the words linger for a moment. 

“Fun fact: I hate red roses,” you said with a soft laugh and Jake scoffed. 

“But it was this big romantic gesture, so I ignored it. After all I knew he meant well. Even though it was glaringly obvious he didn’t know me at all. 

“Let me guess, things didn’t change?” he asked correctly. 

“No, they didn’t. They maybe even got worse. The cycle continued - Explosive fights, break ups, big gestures and begging for forgiveness.

“And I forgave him. Every time.”

For some reason, you started feeling tears prickle at your eyes. Laying out the full story made you feel exposed, embarrassed and even ashamed, but you kept going even with your voice shaky. 

And Jake just listened. 

“I honestly don’t even know why… I guess it still felt like love, every time he came back. Like I was worth fighting for. He still made me feel wanted. And there was also a dependability in that whole spiel, which turned into something familiar and almost comfortable in its discomfort.”

You blinked away some of the tears, wiping the one that fell off your cheek. 

“But you wanna know the best part?” You asked. 

“It get’s better?” Jake sounded skeptical. 

“In those three years, he’s never made me come. Not even once.”

You could practically hear Jake’s jaw drop. 

“You’re kidding,” he said. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

He sounded like he genuinely didn’t believe something like this could be possible. It made you laugh, even with the tears in your eyes.

“Nope, I wish I was. He blamed me. Said something must be wrong with my body and he would get angry because of it. Eventually I just started faking it, trying to appease his small ego to avoid more fights.” 

“I’m sorry. For all of it,” Jake said quietly and you could hear he actually meant it. 

“Thanks.” You wiped away a few more tears, then took a deep breath before continuing. 

“But to top it all off, I lost my job and when I told Natasha about it, she offered to let me stay with her for a while. And I saw my chance to finally escape. I didn’t even say goodbye or tell him, I just left and blocked him everywhere, because I was scared that if I saw him, I’d give in again.

“So I came here and on my first night, I met you.” You finished the story, letting it come full circle. 

You were still nervous what he would do - now that he knew the whole story - but you felt almost relieved it was out of your hands. At peace.

“Thank you for telling me. For trusting me,” Jake said sincerely. 

“It makes sense now, why Phoenix is so protective over you.”

There was a heavy silence hanging between you now, tension thick, neither of you quite knowing what to say next. The quiet didn’t feel awkward, though, it was almost comforting. 

Something about Jake’s presence - even over the phone - felt so steady. Solid. 

“And if you’re wondering now,” you were the first to speak again. 

“I didn’t fake it with you.”

It was meant jokingly, to lighten the mood, but it came out a little huskier than intended. 

Jake chuckled on the other end of the line. 

“Oh, I know.” His voice was darker now as he spoke, but still a little smug.

“Unlike your loser-ex, I can actually tell when a woman is enjoying herself and when she’s coming.”

“Is that so?” You asked, trying not to give away that his words were already affecting you, suddenly glad he couldn’t see you. 

“I could see it in the way your skin flushed. Could feel your nails digging into my shoulder and your pussy clenching around my cock. You also made that sweet little sound, trying to be quiet and hold back a moan… you can’t fake that.” 

His words sent a shiver down your spine where it pooled into that dull ache at your core. 

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” you admitted quietly.

It was an almost involuntary action, but your free hand moved down your body and between your legs, slowly stroking over your clothed pussy.

“I've been replaying that moment in my head so many times. You looked so beautiful, absolutely perfect," Jake kept talking. And by now you had pushed your hand underneath the fabric of your underwear, craving more friction. Your fingers slid along the slit, landing on your clit - a moan slipping past your lips. 

"Fuck," Jake said, voice rough. "Are you-" he stopped himself, as if unsure whether he should even ask. You let out another quiet moan, almost goading him to do it. 

"Are you touching yourself right now?"

Your first instinct was still to lie and deny, embarrassed that just his voice could get you so turned on, but then again, you wanted him to know exactly that. 

"Yeah," you said, nodding even though he couldn't see it. 

You circled your clit, fingers gliding over it easily with the slickness there. 

"You like listening to me talk about how beautiful you looked taking my cock and how good it felt? And that I've been thinking about it every night since?"

Again you whimpered a quiet affirmation. 

"I could feel how wet you were and I've been imagining how it would feel like without the condom."

You started rubbing your clit harder as your desire built with every word Jake spoke. 

"Tell me how you're touching yourself. Are you rubbing your clit or are you fucking yourself with your fingers?" he asked and you could hear his breath coming a little faster, words more clipped. 

"Clit," you only ground out, unable to say much more as you chased your high. 

"Is it 'cause you know it won't feel as good as having me inside of you?"

You moaned in confirmation, but it wasn't enough for him. 

"Use your words, baby. I need to hear you say it."

You fought your way through the haze occupying your mind.

"Yes... felt so good."

"Good girl," he hummed in approval.  

"I bet you look real pretty right now, too."

Words should not have this much power, but coming from Jake's filthy mouth? Calling you a good girl? It had you nearly coming on the spot. 

"Jake, I-" you sighed between rapid breaths and with a pounding heart.

"I'm gonna come."

"Come for me, baby. I wanna hear it." 

And that's what pushed you over the edge, your orgasm releasing, pussy clenching around nothing as you kept rubbing your clit.

"Oh, Jake, fuck," falling from your lips as you came. 

You could also hear a moan on the other end of the line coming from Jake once the blood stopped rushing in your ears. After that it was quiet, only heavy breathing on both ends. 

Jake was the first one to break the silence.

"I think I could listen to you moan my name for the rest of my life." The absolute sincerity made you laugh, though you didn't dare linger on the implication behind his words.

"I can't remember the last time I had phone sex." You said instead, a breathless laugh escaping with it.

"Yeah, me neither. At least while not on deployment." 

Comfortable silence stretched on.

"Thanks, Jake - for listening." You said.

"To you coming? Any day, baby." He laughed and you knew he meant it as a joke. 

"But no, seriously... thank you for sharing your story with me. It means a lot." 

You could tell he was being earnest, all traces of sarcasm gone. 

Still a question was lingering - a what now? hanging over the conversation like a storm cloud. Looming. You kept talking a little longer. Jake asking you stuff about yourself and you needling him in return, wanting to know more about him, falling into easy conversation.

After a while you heard dishes clanking in the kitchen, a telltale sign that Natasha was awake and making breakfast. 

"I think I should go - Nat's awake," you said, not really wanting the call to end.

"Yeah, alright..." he replied, before adding, "are you coming to the Deck tonight?"

You weren't sure of Natasha's plans, but you decided you were going to go.

"Yeah." Past the point of playing it cool, you eagerly agreed. 

"Good." You could hear the grin in his voice.

"I'll see you there," you said.

You hung up the phone and stayed in bed for a moment longer, enjoying the last traces of your post-orgasmic bliss, before getting up and joining your sister in the kitchen. 

"Good morning," you greeted her.

"Morning." Nat was cracking some eggs in bowl, scrambling them when she glanced up.

"Were you talking on the phone?" She asked - must’ve heard you when she walked past your room to get to the kitchen. You hoped she didn't hear the tail end of that conversation, though.

“Yeah, with uhh… Jake." You needed to be honest with her. Sneaking around obviously didn't go well, so you might as well come clean. 

"Oh," she sounded surprised, but you couldn’t tell if it was at your confession or the fact it was Jake.

"I told him about Dylan." You let the words hang in the air, letting her decide what to make of it. 

“I know, you don’t approve…” you said as Natasha stayed silent. “But you can’t protect me from other men forever.” 

“It’s not about approval.” She sighed, about to say something more but you cut her off.

“He makes me feel alive again after I spent the last three years with my head underwater. Now I can finally breathe. And if that’s all he is and this is going to be - then I’m fine with that. With him it’s… easy and fun. Everything with Dylan was always so difficult.” You explained and something on her face made it look like she started to understand. Her eyes softened as she took you in. 

“I mean it obviously also doesn’t hurt that he’s hot as hell and pretty to look at.” You added with a smirk and that got her to laugh.

It took some convincing to get Natasha to come along to the Hard Deck, her telling you it might be weird between her and Jake now and she didn’t want to ‘disturb your night’. That was exactly why she had to go - so it wouldn’t get weirder. But it warmed your heart that she seemed to be starting to accept whatever it was you and Jake had.

Jake was waiting outside the bar, which was surprising, but definitely not unwelcome. 

You couldn’t hold back your smile as you walked up to him. For the first time approaching him directly, the gravity pulling you towards him instead of pushing you away along his line of orbit. 

It was that magnetism that went beyond just sex or physical attraction - it ran deeper - and you could no longer deny it.

He was grinning, a newfound softness in it. 

And God - you wanted to kiss him. Get on your tiptoes, wrap your arms around him and just kiss him. But you couldn’t do that. Not yet, at least - and not in front of your sister. 

You didn’t even trust yourself to hug him, scared any full-body contact would drive you mad with want.

“Hi,” you whispered as you looked up at him.

“Hey,” he smiled down at you, eyes flicking to Natasha behind you. 

He gently touched your hip, gave it a little squeeze before he stepped around you and directly in front of your sister. 

“Peace offering.” He held up a knotted plastic bag towards her, filled with… something. You had no idea what it was - hadn’t even noticed he was holding it. But by the annoyed smile on Nat’s face you could tell that she did. 

She kept him waiting, not immediately reaching for the mystery bag. When she finally did, Jake looked genuinely relieved. 

“I’ll give you guys a minute,” you said, slipping into the bar, greeting Penny as you passed, though you kept an eye on them through the windows. They talked and you wished you could hear what it was. Natasha laughed - a good sign. And then they hugged. Tension, you hadn’t even realized you were holding, slid off your body. You had worried, your presence - your thing with Jake - had damaged their relationship, something vital for their work. So it eased something deep in you to see it was at least on the mend, if not yet fully repaired. 

When they came back inside, Jake made a beeline for you and your sister drifted towards a group of others. 

“What on earth did you give her?” You asked with a curious grin. 

“Bag of ash,” he stated matter-of-factly as if it were the most normal thing to gift someone. 

“What?” You blinked at him, brows furrowing. 

“For her plants.” He shrugged. “That’s how she got her callsign. Because she’s always digging through the leftover ash after every bonfire, taking some home to use in the soil of her plants. And one particular time, the wind caught her off guard and she got absolutely covered in it. Looked like a phoenix rising from the ashes - hence, the name.”

You couldn’t believe you didn’t know that story - had never even bothered to ask how she got the name. 

“Huh, I always thought it was just a badass name,” you laughed. 

Jake knowing your sister so well made you realize how much of a family they really were - the whole squad was. And also how close you’d come to fracturing something important by not keeping it in your pants.

It wasn’t just Jake who needed to apologize. You’d have to apologize to her, too. 

“So now that I’m back in your sister’s good graces…” He smirked. 

“Will you let me take you out on a date?” 

You bit your lip, trying to contain your smile but failing spectacularly. 

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Good.” Jake leaned in closer. “And maybe I’ll take you home after… see how many times I can make you finish before you tap out.” His voice took on a sinful note, eyes darkening, as he said it, tightening that coil of desire in your belly. 

Your gaze flicking to his lips. 

“Am I interrupting something?” 

A voice suddenly spoke next to you. You knew that voice. 

“You are.” Jake didn’t take his eyes off you, but the annoyance was clear in his reply. 

You didn’t need to look up - knew exactly who it was - but you did anyway. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, rage simmering underneath. Eyes wide as you were staring at him. 

Dylan. 

Your reaction made Jake look up as well and his eyes narrowed as realization set in. 

“Isn’t it obvious? I came here for you.” Dylan had the audacity to sound amused. 

This couldn’t be happening. After everything. After you finally got away and things were turning out to be good - he showed up again.

Your heart was pounding, but not in the exciting way like when Jake looked at you. This was the opposite. 

“Dylan, is it?” Jake spoke up for you, guessing correctly who he was. 

“It’s none of your business,” Dylan replied, but he was solely focused on you, not even sparing Jake a glance. 

“Oh, I think it is.” Jake stepped closer to him, rising to his full height, back ramrod straight and chin high. But you put a hand up to his chest, stopping him. 

This was something you had to try and resolve yourself. 

“I don’t want you here, Dylan,” you told him, trying to keep your voice firm but you couldn’t help the slight waver in it. 

“Come on, don’t say that. I’ve missed you. I got on the first flight when I saw the picture your sister posted.” He came closer - just an inch - but you noticed. 

Hearing I’ve missed you and knowing that he’d flown out to find you would’ve cracked your resolve before.

But things were different now. 

You were different.

“I’m done with you. For good.”

“Why? Because of him? Is that it?” Dylan got a little louder and it drew eyes from people around you.

“He has nothing to do with it.”

“You’ve barely been here a month and you’re already fucking someone else. He’s probably just using you. Just a warm place to put his dick. Because he’ll never love you like I do - no one can - and we both know that.”

You felt Jake tense next to you, his fists clenched, but you still had your hand on him, making him stand down. 

“You’re nothing without me. That’s why you always come back, because you need me. I know you do.” Dylan closed the gap and reached to put his hands on your face. You tried to back away but were met with the bar behind you. That’s when you let Jake step in. 

He slid in front of you smoothly and pushed Dylan back a few staggering steps.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” His voice was low, threatening. 

“Or what?” Dylan asked through gritted teeth.

You saw the way Jake’s body tightened, ready to throw the first punch if needed. 

The bar had gone quiet. All eyes on the three of you and whatever was about to unfold. 

Movement caught your eye and you saw Natasha make her way towards you through the crowd.

“Hey Dylan!” She yelled as she closed in. He reluctantly turned away from Jake and towards your sister. 

He opened his mouth to say something when Natasha raised her fist and punched him square in the face. He didn’t even have time to react - just dropped to the ground, blood spurting from his nose. The whole crowd gasped, some cheered and you stood frozen. 

“God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” She said as she shook out her hand. 

“Jesus, Nat,” you breathed, still in shock. She gave you a crooked smile and a light shrug. 

She turned to Jake. “Take her home. I got this.”

He nodded, grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the bar towards his car. 

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you said as Jake led you into his apartment after a quiet car ride. 

You couldn’t believe that Dylan had actually shown up here and that Natasha had punched him.

Jake had decided to take you to his place because he wasn’t sure if Dylan knew where your sister’s apartment was - or if he might try to show up there. 

You plopped down on the couch in his living room, Jake sitting down next to you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, worried, reaching for one of your hands that was still trembling slightly and squeezing it. 

You took a deep steadying breath. 

“Yeah. I think I am.”

“That guy really is one manipulative asshole.” he said and you nodded in agreement. 

“He is. Thank you for letting me handle it and not stepping in right away. I needed that.”

That moment - standing you ground and ending it with Dylan - was the final part of a chapter you’d needed to finish for far too long.

“You handled it really well.”

He gave your hand another squeeze. 

“Thanks,” you smiled, turning his hand over and lacing his fingers with yours. 

There was one positive thing that came from it: you were finally well and truly over Dylan - and free from whatever hold he’d had on you.

You took a moment to look around the room. It was definitely a man’s apartment - dark monochrome colors, very tidy - but there were traces of Jake scattered throughout. 

Military patches and plaques hanging on the walls as well as propped up on shelves. A pair of longhorns mounted above the TV and cowboy boots by the door. 

It was so him - and you loved it - enjoyed getting to know more about him and his life. 

You turned back to him, finding he was already watching you.

His thumb rubbed slow circles into the back of your hand, his gaze dark and piercing. 

Electricity humming between your bodies and the tension was thick. 

“I know you said you want to take me on a date first…” you said quietly, trailing off. 

“Fuck the date,” he muttered, then surged forward, crashing his lips onto yours in a kiss you’d been waiting for for weeks. 

His hands found the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him, almost desperate. 

You opened your mouth and he wasted no time in sliding his tongue inside, claiming it. 

Claiming you. 

He kissed you hungrily, deeply and you felt a familiar ache start to build inside you. 

Grabbing onto his shoulders, you moved into his lap, straddling him and pressing your body closer against him, needing to feel all of him. 

His hands slid around your body, one up and between your shoulder blades, the other down to palm the curve of your ass. 

If kissing him at the bar was amazing - this was ecstasy. After weeks of build up and sexual tension it all finally came to a head. 

You raked your nails through his hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on whatever was long enough to grab and started moving your hips back and forth. 

Center dragging over his growing bulge, a moan slipped into his mouth at the contact. 

Hips bucking up in response, while his hand on your ass pulled your further down against him for more friction. 

His hands wandered under you shirt, pushing it up as he went, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over your head, then diving right back in to explore. It felt like he was trying to memorize every inch of your body by touch alone. 

And you loved the way they felt, warm and heavy - slightly calloused - but it only added another layer to the sensation.

Jake reached around to unhook your bra and you shrugged it off quickly. Leaving you topless in front of him. Palms immediately found your breasts, squeezing them roughly. Pinching the nipples into stiff peaks. 

You kept grinding down on him and if he let you - you could probably come from that alone. But Jake had other plans. He held you tight and flipped you around so your back was against the couch and he was above you between your open legs, moving your body with ease. Sitting up, he pulled his shirt over his head and while you loved seeing him like that, you whined at the loss of pressure, grabbing at him to pull him back down. 

He let out a little chuckle at that, clearly enjoying how desperate you were for him as you pulled his lips back onto yours. Your legs fell open further, giving him more space to get closer.

But it wasn’t enough, needed more, the ache between your legs growing exponentially.

You slid your hands between your bodies, unfastening the button and zipper of his pants with ease, then tried to shove them down his hips.

“Someone’s eager,” he teasingly whispered against your lips. 

“Please, Jake,” you whined - needing his cock, his hands, something. 

He sat up, hungry eyes tracing the lines of your body, then started working on your pants, tugging them down together with your underwear. You lifted your hips to make it easier until you were completely naked on the couch in front of him. 

Legs still spread indecently, everything on full display. Jake ran his hands up your thighs, fingers twitching, digging into your soft skin and making you spread your legs even more. 

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, eyes flicking from your face down to your glistening center. 

The way he looked right now - shirtless and pants undone, hair messy and his eyes dark - made you take in a shuddering breath.

You started squirming under his gaze, feeling exposed but also so needy. 

His right hand crept to the top of your thigh, thumb running along your slit, pressing down to glide easily between your folds until he reached your clit. 

The sudden contact made you twitch, your hips angling towards him as you bit back a moan.

“Always so wet for me.” His gaze was fixed to your pussy, watching his thumb rub around your clit, occasionally dipping back down to gather up more of your slickness.

Your hands were fisting the fabric of the couch, digging your nails into it.

“Please,” you tried again, almost begging, ripping him out of his trance.

He looked back up and licked his lips with a small smirk. “I got you.”

Jake moved - his face so close to your wet pussy now you could feel his breath against it - his broad shoulders wedged between your knees, demanding space.

His middle and index finger replaced his thumb, but he kept on rubbing your clit - until they drifted lower, teasingly circling your entrance, threatening to push in before pulling back. 

You looked down at him, his green eyes staring back - then his fingers entered you, one swift push in. 

Eyes fluttering shut, you threw your head back. A moan spilling from your lips at finally feeling him inside you again. His fingers fit perfectly, just a slight stretch as he started pumping them in and out, curling them up as he did. 

And because it wasn’t enough, his mouth then found your clit - latching on to it - sucking and flicking at it with his tongue. 

Your fingers gripped his hair, pushing his face deeper into your pussy as your back arched off the couch. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered breathlessly. The onslaught of his tongue and his fingers was everything - too much and not enough - as the coil deep inside of you tightened. 

His left arm hooked under your leg, hand landing on your belly to keep you in place and hold you still as he continued his ministrations. 

Jake sped up slightly and your orgasm built relentlessly. More and more until it couldn’t any more and you came. Hips bucking, moaning his name through strangled sobs of pleasure. 

His fingers slowed to a stop, but he didn’t pull out just yet. He looked up at you, lips and chin glistening with your juices, giving you a wicked smirk as you tried to catch your breath. 

“That was…” you panted, but were lost for words. 

“I’m not done yet,” he said and your eyes widened. “I think you need to come again.”

“I- I don’t… think I can,” you stammered, excited but also intimidated by the idea. 

“We’ll see,” he smirked before he dove back in.

Your clit was hypersensitive and you jerked away, but he held you right where he needed you. 

No partner - especially not Dylan - had tried to make you come more than once. If they even cared about you coming at all.

The feeling of overstimulation slowly faded and turned back into pleasure. It seemed like your body was primed and ready to go from your first release, because the second one approached much faster. So fast, you hardly believe it was happening. 

It only took him pushing a third finger inside you to make you fall over the edge again, clenching around his digits as the waves of your orgasm crashed through you. 

Your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst right out of your chest. 

This time Jake pulled his fingers out of you after slowing down to a stop and came up to hover above you. 

“I knew you could do it.” He looked smug - but rightly so. 

You laughed breathlessly. He leaned down, but not to kiss you, instead he wrapped his arms under and around your body and before you could react, he’d lifted you and tossed you over his shoulder. A yelp escaped you as you dangled upside down. 

“Jake!” you shrieked, half laughing, half scandalized. 

“I’m taking you to bed,” he said and gave your bare ass a playful slap.

You were still giggling when he dropped you on the bed, bouncing on the mattress. You watched as he got rid of the rest of his clothes, marveling at his naked body and his perfect cock - making your pussy clench around nothing in anticipation of him. 

He joined you back on the bed and you immediately went back to kissing, still eager for more, but a little slower this time, some of the desperation and need having dissipated with your previous orgasms. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

You took his cock in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft, and he groaned at the contact - at the feel of your hand stroking his velvet-soft and rock-hard length.

You gave him a few slow pumps, sliding your thumb over tip and feeling a drop of precum gathered there. 

You rolled Jake over so you were on top of him, straddling him once more, still kissing. Your center awfully close to his cock which seemed to be twitching in response. 

Jake moved, his hand reaching for something in his nightstand and you looked up to see him pull out a condom from the drawer. 

He looked at you and you shook your head, his brows raising. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. You started kissing him again. 

“Yes… want to feel you,” you muttered against his lips, “and I’m on the pill.”

“Fuck, okay. You don’t have to tell me twice.” You watched him toss the condom to the side with theatrical flair and his kisses turned more heated. Biting your bottom lip, tangling his tongue with yours. He grabbed your hips, guiding you until the head of his cock was nudging at your entrance.

You were so wet still that it would be no problem for him to slide inside with ease.

You sat up, bracing your hands on his chest and slowly sank down on him - feeling every inch - as his girth stretched you in a way that even three of his fingers hadn’t prepared you for.

Once fully seated inside, Jake let out a moan.

“Feels even better than I imagined.”

You let out a sigh, the feeling of being so filled was absolute bliss, even better than the first time.

After a few more seconds, you started to move, fucking yourself on his cock. 

Careful at first, then picking up speed, feeling him deep inside you every time you sank back down on him completely. Heat building in your body with each time. 

He was still gripping your hips tightly, letting you go at your own pace, but you could feel his restraint falter in the way his hips jerked up to meet yours. 

“Look so pretty riding me,” he said, his breathing slightly labored, looking at you intently.

His hand moved, thumb finding your clit again and rubbing it in messy circles. That, together with the way he filled you so perfectly, made another orgasm approach.

You weren’t sure you still had it in you, but the idea of coming with his cock buried deep inside was too enticing not to try

“I can feel you clenching around me already.” He began thrusting up shallowly, helping you ride hime while - his thumb never leaving your clit.

“Are you gonna come all over my cock, too?” he asked, his words had you nod and moan in return. 

The coil kept tightening and at some point you let him take over. Thrusting into you fully now, harder and even deeper. You were close, but couldn’t quite get there yet and Jake seemed to realize that. He pulled your body down on him and flipped you over so he was hovering above you, staying inside the entire time. 

This new angle allowing him to go even deeper and let him do all the work, so you could relax your body and focus more on your release. 

His fingers found your clit again as he built you back up to that edge, coil of pleasure so tight it was going to snap any second. Then his other hand wrapped around your throat and applied the lightest of pressure to the sides, and that’s when it happened. You clenched around him, back arching and moaning. Pleasure overwhelmed you completely and the noises that came from deep within you were genuine sobs. That incredible orgasmic feeling, coupled with the overwhelming, almost painful sensation of having been pushed over the edge multiple times.

Jake’s thrusts became faster in turn, more irregular, and you knew he was close too. But you’d let him fuck you in whatever way he needed to come, especially after giving you three incredible orgasms. 

After one final, deep thrust, he stilled. A strangled groan falling from his lips as he dropped his head to your shoulder. 

You let your fingertips lazily trace across his back as you both caught your breaths again, his body heavy atop yours. You felt absolutely spent and you weren’t sure you could ever get up out of this bed again. 

“I thought the sex we had at the bar was incredible…” you swallowed, still somewhat out of breath. “But this right here, might’ve been life changing.”

He laughed. And it was that deep, warm laugh that rumbled in his chest and gave you a strange sense of comfort. 

“Better get used to it.”

Jake dragged himself off of you eventually and cleaned you both up before he laid back down in bed next to you. You were turned towards each other, his fingers tracing patterns on your hip and lower back. 

“So what did you say to Nat earlier?” you asked him, curious.

“I told her the truth,” he simply said. 

“Which is?”

“That I have no intention of hurting you or breaking your heart.” A beat.  

“‘Cause I like you. A lot.” He confessed.

You smiled at him. 

“Good. Because I also like you a lot,” you whispered back. 

“She did also threaten to cut off my balls again, but that’s completely beside the point.” He waved it off with his hand.

“I didn’t expect anything less,” you laughed. Jake had a special talent for lightening the mood and taking the tension out of heavy moments.  

You leaned in to kiss him again and he pulled your body closer against his. 

“I still expect you to take me out on a date, though.” You grinned. "And I want my panties back."

He didn't reply, just smirked against your lips as he kissed you deeply.

You might not be one-hundred percent certain what this thing you’ve started was, but you definitely liked where it was going. And that was enough for now.

Tags: @trelaney

[caprisunzz]

hii love!

i hope you are doing well,

i don’t know if you are doing blurbs right now but, since i’ve seen a few people send links of how they think josie would react when rafe comes home from work. i was wondering if you’d be willing to write something with that?

if you cant, that’s totally fine <3

hi honey!! thanks for the sweet message. for you, anything. i hope you're well also ! so much love + hope you enjoy ! (sorry it's a lil short)

Rafe shuts off his truck in the driveway and throws his head back against the seat, sucking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly. The way you taught him to breathe when he needs to calm down.

Secretly, Rafe Cameron feels selfish sometimes. Not often, because his dad brain is on most of the time, and he keeps himself in check. However, there are some days that it switches off. These days just so happen to coincide with his worst days at work. Coming home to take care of others after nine grueling hours isn't always the most appealing to him.

Which is how he finds himself sitting in his truck instead of on his couch with his wife and two kids, listening to a preschool story or his Josie's jagged syllables.

His phone goes off, dragging him out of his head and into the screen. A text from you, which he opens immediately.

Hi, handsome. Saved you some dinner. Stop working so hard. Come home and love on me. I'll even run you a bath and let you use my nice candles.

I love you.

He smiles when the second message comes through. Taking another deep breath, he climbs out of the car and walks up the driveway, silently telling himself that all he has to do is see you. See him. See her. He'll feel better.

Walking in the door, it's as if relief floods his entire body. He can smell the remnants of your cooking and hear Josie's giggle in the living room, along with the sound of Connor's bare feet on the wood.

"Baby?" he calls gently, approaching the living room.

You grin when you lay eyes on your tired husband, holding up Josie so she can see him, too.

"Look," you say to her, "Look who it is."

"Da-da!" she giggles, already reaching for him, "Da-da, come."

Rafe laughs and drops his things where he stands, nodding his head as he takes in this moment. They make everything better, he swears.

You let Josie down and Rafe watches as she takes several unsteady steps over to him, giggling uncontrollably when he scoops her up and presses kiss after kiss to her cheek.

"Hi, princess," he whispers, "How are you?"

"Hi, da-da," she grins, grabbing at his chain underneath his button-up.

"Hi, baby girl," he replies.

Suddenly, it's as if no client had demanded their entire project be re-done. It's as if no employee had pissed him off, or his idea got shut down in a meeting.

It's just his girls and his boy, all in one room, in their home, together. That's all Rafe Cameron will ever need.

[caprisunzz]

what about one of them being anxious? maybe not even for any reason, like having anxiety chills really bad one day and they aren't sure why.

CUTE i changed it a teensy bit and hope that i did it justice for you. thank you for the inspo <333

Every morning, Rafe is awake before you. Every morning, he goes out on a run and then comes home and makes you coffee before ultimately getting you up. Every morning, he debates falling back into bed and keeping you there, ready to ignore the responsibilities of the day.

Which is why Rafe Cameron can't figure out what's different about today. Sure, Josie has a little cough. Yes, there's a big business deal going down next week. However, Rafe knows those are things he can handle, and he'll even make them look easy as he does it.

You crawl out of bed and find Rafe in the kitchen, doing his best to open the bag of resealable coffee grounds. He groans lowly when he can't get it, then smacks his hand on the counter out of frustration.

"Morning," you yawn as you enter.

"Hey," he answers quietly, continuing his attempt at the bag, "Coffee will be ready in a few."

You're used to it always being done, always waiting on you. But, you don't dare say a word. Instead, you grab two mugs from the counter and then step over to him, eyeing the bag in his hands.

"Can I help you with that?"

He shakes his head, "It's fine."

"Rafe."

He can't resist you and you know it. He sighs and sets the bag down on the counter, then turns to face you. Immediately, you register the burnt out look in his eye, the flexing of his hand, and the ticks in his jaw.

"Sorry," he mumbles, "Maybe you should make it this morning."

You step forward and cup his cheek, pulling him down so he's looking directly at you.

"I don't care about the coffee. I care about you, baby. What's going on?"

He shrugs, but the way he avoids your eyes tells you that something is there. He brings both of his hands up to your waist and grips you tight, even pulling you closer to him.

"I'm just a little on edge," he confesses, "It's nothing I can't handle, and I honestly don't know why it's happening."

You nod patiently, "Just an off day?"

"Yeah, think so," he replies.

You nod once more, then shove yourself against his chest. He smiles when he feels you so closer, your heartbeat against his chest and his against your temple. You listen to it while you scratch up and down his back, ignoring the sweat from his run.

"Can we sit down for a few minutes?"

He nods and allows you to lead him over to the couch. He sits first, then pulls you down onto his lap. You straddle him and lock your arms around his neck, then start pressing kisses into his cheeks. His hands run the length of your thighs, which brings a smile out of you. If you know Rafe Cameron, you know that his love language is physical touch. You plan on playing into that with him in this moment and all of the rest to come.

"I'll be okay, sweetheart," he lectures you, "Don't waste your morning sitting here. I'm good."

You kiss his chin, then his lips, then his nose. He breathes you in regardless of his words, and you know he loves it.

"It's not a waste. I love being with you, you know that," you say sweetly.

"But, your coffee."

"I can make my own coffee," you reply.

"Shouldn't have to," he mumbles, "I love taking care of you."

"Well, now it's my turn to take care of you," you grin, loving the way his lips tip up, "I'll come by the office and we can have lunch together. You can call me after your three o'clock meeting, and when we both get home from work, we can cuddle on the couch. The kids are going to Kelce and Maddie's for a playdate, anyway."

"That wasn't on the calendar," he raises a brow, but you shrug him off.

"I forgot to add it."

A lie, and you know he knows it, because you never forget to add things to the calendar. Still, the smile that graces his features lights you up inside, and when he nods his head, you feel victorious.

"Thanks, baby," he whispers, "I appreciate that."

You smile, then kiss him one more time.

"Seriously," you murmur, "Is there anything I can do to make it better?"

Shyly, he shrugs, "You have, already. Maybe we could start putting this on the calendar."

You smile, scooting impossibly closer on his lap before scratching his scalp and playing with his hair, forcing his eyes closed under your touch.

"We can do that," you reply, "Every morning, if you want."

He grins, letting his hands wander down your back and to your ass, which he grabs happily.

"Yeah, I think that would really help me out."

[caprisunzz]

Rafe’s reaction to her getting a tattoo and not telling him and he just randomly finds it like “I don’t think this was there before”

umm? i love this? like of course she knows he'll see it but she likes the idea of him just stumbling upon it

it would go a little something like this (im gonna add a cut here)

A few drinks at the Club had gotten Rafe right where you wanted him; slightly tipsy and unable to keep his hands off of you. You laid back in his bed and let him work, listening to the low, content groans coming from the back of his throat and beading into your neck, where his lips currently sit.

He tucks his hands underneath your shirt, touching your warm skin and loving the feeling of it on his own. He pulls the shirt up over your head, throwing it to some random spot in his room before he quickly gets back to work.

Down the valley of your breasts and then along your stomach, he leaves little kisses and moans every time you scratch his scalp. He moves his lips along the right side of your ribcage, then shifts over to the left. You swallow, treading lightly and wondering if he's going to open his eyes and see it, or if he'll just keep going.

Of course, Rafe has a radar for when your head's somewhere else. He stops and looks up at you, watching as you bite your lip.

"You with me?" he asks, lips puffy and pink from all the kissing he'd been doing.

"Mhm," you hum, nodding.

"Just relax, sweetheart. I've got you."

You nod your head, watching him give you a small smile before he shifts his gaze back down to your body. He freezes when he sees it, grabbing ahold of your body and shifting you over so he can get a better look at the two butterflies that sit beautifully on your ribs, right underneath your bra.

"Wha-" he starts, then stops, swallowing, "Um, baby, what is this? When did you... do this?"

"What?" you play dumb, biting the inside of your cheek to hide your smile.

"I don't think this was there before," he replies sarcastically, gently running the pad of his finger over the fresh tattoo.

"Oh, that," you tease, "D'you like it?"

He scoffs, "Do I like it?"

He speaks as if you'd just asked him the dumbest question you possibly could. He leans down and gently presses his lips over the spot, admiring it once more before he moves over to kiss your lips.

"Yeah, baby, I like it. Sexy as hell."

[caprisunzz]

After rafe and y/n got into a fight when he was stressed at work do they handle things different now?

what a lovely question and this is rough rough rough writing but here we go:

The text from Ward still sits open on your phone as you hand Connor off to Sarah to watch while you go collect Rafe from work – a text that told you he’s stressed and in need of his wife. You know, as you drive, that Rafe knows nothing of this message and would never have allowed his father to send it out. Initially, you think about just telling him you came to surprise him, but the absence of a two year-old would immediately tell him that’s not true.

Ward gives you a wave and a grateful smile as you pass his office and head into Rafe’s, peaking your head in only for a moment to say, “I’ve got him.”

Rafe’s office door is closed, and the grunt that comes after you knock tells you he’s not in his normal mood. Pulling it open, you find him sitting in front of endless open files, scattered pieces of paper, and his laptop screen lighting up the majority of the room. You furrow your eyebrows and flip on his light switch – which he would argue there’s no need for, he could tell it was you just by your silhouette in the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, rising from his chair to greet you despite the distraction.

“Just checking on you,” you reply, walking over to him.

Rafe looks past you and, when no two year-old who runs too fast everywhere and carries the same blue dog around trails in, his eyebrow raises in disbelief.

“Don’t you normally have a two foot tall version of me behind you?” he questions you.

With a smile, your hands make their way around him and he pulls you close.

“Okay, so I was a little concerned about you.”

Rafe’s expression hardens a bit, his jaw clenching as he tries to figure out why that would be when he tries to be so good at concealing his work stress.

“I didn’t miss a text, did I? I normally pay attention–”

“Rafe,” you stop him from trying to fish his phone out from underneath all the papers, “Relax. You didn’t miss anything.”

“Then, how did you–”

“Your dad,” you tell him, “He said you were worked up.”

Rafe sighs and runs a hand through his hair, then takes a step back and sits down. You stand there, the feeling of his hands still ghosting over your hips haunting you in the best way.

“I’m fine,” he insists.

You nod and step forward, knowing he won’t object when you place yourself in his lap. One of his hands wraps around your body, the other meeting the skin on your thighs, exposed due to the shorts you have on. With the way his hand gently rubs up and down your legs, you know he’s not.

“Okay,” you let him win, “I’ll be here when you’re not, though. You know that?”

He presses a firm kiss to your temple, as if trying to convince you through his actions.

“I know that, baby,” he whispers.

Your fingers stroke through his hair, watching as his eyes drift back to his work. When his gaze doesn’t come back up to you, you start to squirm to leave him to do his thing.

“I’ll just–”

“No,” he says, latching onto you and cementing you to his lap, “Stay. Can you?”

You smile and place yourself back to your original position, then press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Of course,” you nod.

He gives you a grateful smile, then scoots his chair back to his desk. The hand he placed around your body had found its way under your shirt, stroking the skin on your back so lightly.

After a few minutes of quiet, you combing through his hair with your fingers and him rubbing your back, he looks up from his laptop and over at you.

“Can I tell you somethin’, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

He smiles, “I wasn’t okay.”

When your smile drops, you move to speak, but he shakes his head. You feel him tighten his grip around you, only pulling you closer to him.

“I am now.”

[caprisunzz]

Omg could you write maybe josie crying and Connor going in to comfort her

omg yes you just know little man is up and running with every peep

The beginning of Josie's cries wake Rafe before you, and when you turn in bed, he's already standing. You exhale and groan while Rafe rubs the sleep from his eyes, desperate for some relief.

"I'll get her, baby," he says, his voice deep and raspy, "Go back to sleep."

"You got up last time," you protest, already moving to stand.

"That's only fair, considering you pushed her out of you," he remarks.

You just shake your head and walk over to him, watching as he picks up the sweater you discarded earlier and wraps it around you once you get close enough.

"We'll both go," you declare.

He nods and kisses your cheek quickly, then turns and leads you out of your bedroom. When you both reach Josie's bedroom, you watch as Rafe tenses when he notices her door is open wider than he left it when he got up an hour ago to tend to her. He inches toward the door, one hand out in front of him and the other reaching for you, and peaks his head in.

His shoulders drop once he sees his three year-old son standing by Josie's crib, and all at once, Rafe turns and ushers you back to the doorway.

"Don't cry, Josie," Connor says to her, "I'm sure Mama or Daddy are coming. Hey, maybe they'll let me sleep in there with you. Would you like that? I have a bunch of stuffed animals. We can share."

You pout up at Rafe when he looks down at you, beaming at how sweet his kid is. Out of habit, Rafe's arms make their way around you and pull you close.

"Do you want some ice cream?" Connor continues, "Mama always lets me have ice cream when I cry. I'll ask her for you."

"Always?" Rafe questions you with a smirk and a raised brow, "I thought you were so worried about his sugar intake."

"Yeah," you mumble, "But he looks so cute with chocolate dripping down his face."

Rafe chuckles quietly, then nods his head toward the door, "Come on."

Connor turns when he hears the two of you enter, and he runs straight to you. Instinctively, you bend down and reach for him, letting him grab ahold of your hand while Rafe picks up Josie.

"She's cryin' again, Mama," he says, "Can I sleep in there with her?"

You try to hold down your emotions, instead offering him a kind smile and a brush through his hair.

"She has to learn to sleep on her own, buddy," you say.

He nods, "Okay. Did I do this, too?"

"Yes," you say, giving him another smile.

"I probably wanted ice cream," he says, a mischievous smile lining his lips.

"You probably did," you agree, "But it's the middle of the night. You should be asleep. Want me to tuck you back in?"

He nods again, "Yeah."

You glance at Rafe, silently communicating with him that you're going. He just nods, continuing bouncing Josie and calming her down with his little whispers. Connor tugs on your hand and leads you out of the room while you look back and steal one final glance at Rafe, watching him smile.

[caprisunzz]

Literally whenever you have time or whenever you’re bored can you write some more clingy Connor wanting his mom? I love this concept so much.

oh yes :) they make me happy :)

Summer Saturdays have become clockwork in the Cameron household. Kelce and Maddie make their appearance around lunchtime and immediately, Kelce, Rafe and Connor rush outside to run around and play. You and Maddie typically stay in with Noah and Josie and catch up, but will sometimes go out and watch the boys play football.

One Saturday in July, the boys spend more time than usual outside. You and Maddie move yourselves (and the babies) into the kitchen to start working on a meal, and you pour out wine for the two of you as you work.

But you hear him before you see him. The familiar sound of Connor's cries as Rafe carries him to the back door, which you find yourself standing before in an instant.

Rafe gives you a silent apology when you meet his eye, but you're too worried about why he's crying to look at him for too long.

"Baby, what happened to you?" you ask him softly.

He doesn't reply, just lets out another sob and immediately latches to you, locking his hands around your neck. You grab onto him and hold him close, stroking through his hair with one hand to comfort him.

"Careful, sweetheart, his knee-"

"What happened to his knee?" you ask Rafe.

"He fell and scraped it. He's bleeding, but he'll live. Right, bub?"

Connor doesn't reply to his dad, he just shifts in closer to you. His tears hit the skin on your chest, and your heart practically breaks in half.

"Connor," you say gently, "Can I see you, please?"

He sniffles against you and pulls back, his glossy, dough eyes meeting yours. His nose is red and running, the rims around his eyes are puffy, and his eyelashes are soaked. Before you can help it, you lean forward and press a kiss to his mouth, wanting to see him smile even a bit.

"Hurts, Mama," he whines.

"I'm so sorry. Do you want me to make it better, or do you just want hugs right now?"

He stares at you for a moment as he considers, his lips drawing into a pout. Your hand meets his back, stroking up and down.

"Make it better," he murmurs, "Then hugs."

"Okay," you give him a smile, and when his lips tip up, you feel victorious.

Connor's head returns to your chest and you look to Rafe, who is still standing in front of you, worried about Connor. When he meets your eyes, you can tell he feels guilty.

"Can you get me the kit, please?" you ask, then tug him closer, "He's okay."

"I know, I just-" Rafe stops, sighs, then nods, "I'll get the kit."

You nod and release him, letting him walk away. You take Connor into the kitchen and place him down on the counter, pulling back to get a look at his knee for the first time.

It's scraped up for sure, but it's nothing Neosporin and a band-aid can't fix. Connor frowns when he sees the injury, and your mind scrambles to come up with a way to make him feel better.

"You know," you begin, "Daddy got scraped up when he was a kid, too."

"He did?" Connor asks, tearing his eyes away from his knee and up to you.

"Mhm," you confirm, "A lot."

"Is that why he's strong?"

You smile, "Yeah. That's why."

Rafe returns with the first-aid kit (that Rose had doctored up and added a million things to), then sets it down in front of you. You search through it, finding what you need, while Connor's glance moves to Rafe.

Josie starts fussing, but Kelce jumps into action before either of you can.

"I've got her, Y/N," he says quietly as he passes.

"Thanks, Kelce," you reply, giving him a smile.

"Daddy," Connor says, "You got hurt a lot when you were like me?"

Rafe nods, "Oh, yeah. Uncle Scott and I were always getting into trouble."

"Uncle Scott's strong, too, Mama?" Connor asks.

"Very," you nod, "You'll have to ask him about his wrist."

Your eyes flicker up to Rafe and you give him a teasing smirk, watching as he tries to suppress a smile.

"Ouch," Rafe mutters to you, making you laugh.

You put the band-aid on carefully, then pull back and give Connor a smile. He's stopped crying and Rafe wiped his nose while you worked, so he looks better than he did when he came in the house.

"All better," you tell him, tapping his nose with your pointer finger.

He swats you away but a giggle comes out of him, which is all you wanted. When his eyes meet yours again, you know what he needs before he even says it.

"Hugs now?" he asks.

"Yes, handsome."

You pick him back up from the counter and let him wrap himself around you, moving to kiss the top of his head once he's settled. Rafe pats Connor's back, and you give him one more look.

"He's okay," you repeat quietly to Rafe.

"I threw the ball too far," Rafe confesses, "He was trying to catch it and he tripped."

You use your free hand to reach up and cup Rafe's cheek, stroking his skin with your thumb. He shifts his head after a moment to kiss your palm.

"These things happen. Everything's okay," you murmur, then turn, "Right, Connor? Tell Daddy you're okay."

"I'm okay," he says into your skin.

Rafe lets out a breath at that, "Okay."

You smile, pulling both of them closer to you, somehow.

"Okay."

[caprisunzz]

Connor seems like a very big mammas boy to me which is so adorable. Would you be willing to do a small blurb on how he feels when his mom is away for the weekend and he’s feeling a little anxious and sad about it and how rafe deals with baby tearing up for his mom?

ahhh yes he is & you know i had to write this. my heart got all big when i read this. i hope you enjoy it (takes place a few weeks before y/n finds out she's pregnant again)

Rafe and Connor had watched as you hopped in Maddie's car and drove off; ready to spend a girl's weekend away. You and Rafe had both realized this morning that you'd never left them alone for more than a day, and he wasn't quite sure how this was going to go. You had assured him he would be fine (and made him promise not to just heat up pizza rolls in the microwave for meals), to which he rolled his eyes and told you to have fun.

Their first full day together, Connor and Rafe spend their time throwing football in the backyard, watching TV, and making pasta together for dinner. After Connor goes to sleep, Rafe cleans up the house and then heads to bed, trying his best to ignore the empty space where you should be.

He's not surprised at all when he wakes in the morning and finds Connor sleeping soundly on your side of the bed. Rafe scrolls through his phone, firing off a text to you about how yesterday went and how much he misses you already. When Connor wakes, his eyes are wide and glossy, and when Rafe looks over, he bites down on his bottom lip.

"How many days 'til she's back?" Connor asks.

"Tomorrow night, bub," Rafe replies.

"So, not today?"

"Not today," Rafe confirms, then scoots closer, "You okay?"

"I miss Mama," he whines, his eyes filling fast with tears, "Why can't she come back today?"

Rafe leans over and picks Connor up, placing him in his lap and holding him tight. Connor clings to him, grasping his shirt in his hand and sniffling as he lets a tear or two escape.

"Want to hear a secret?" Rafe questions him, rubbing his hand up and down Connor's back.

"Yeah."

"I miss her, too," Rafe confesses.

His son's eyes travel up to meet his, assessing the seriousness of his father. Rafe just shrugs, telling him it's true, and watches as Connor processes.

"You do?"

"I do," Rafe confirms, "I miss her every time I'm not with her. The same way I miss you when I'm not with you."

Connor nods, "So, it's okay to miss her?"

"Absolutely. I used to miss Mommy all the time before we were married."

Connor's eyebrows furrow, but Rafe feels like he can inhale again because the tears have stopped.

"Why?" he asks.

"Well," Rafe sighs, smiling to himself when Connor gets comfortable laying on his chest, "One time, when we were younger, Mommy went to California with Uncle Scott and grandma and grandpa. I missed her so much while she was gone. It was for two weeks, too."

"Two weeks!" Connor exclaims, "Bet you got a lot of kisses when she got home."

Rafe smiles sadly to himself, remembering the first time he saw you at a Thursday dinner after your trip. You'd tanned, and you smiled more, but as for him, barely even one word.

"Yeah," he lies, "But it was a tough trip."

"Why didn't you tell her to come home?"

Rafe continues stroking up and down Connor's back, taking a moment to think before he answers.

"Because I love her," he decides, "And I knew she was having fun, and I wanted that for her. So, I got through it. It was hard, but the smile on her face when she got home told me she enjoyed herself."

Connor exhales against Rafe's chest, "Well, I love Mama, so I hope she has fun now."

Rafe smiles, "You're a good man. What do you say we go get Mom flowers and make her favorite meal for when she comes home?"

Connor nods and visibly relaxes under Rafe's arm.

"Sounds good, Daddy."