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[crvptidgf]

i love this so much but their lack of communication is killing meeeee😭😭😭

play fake | part eight

series play fake — ( masterlist )

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

Laid out on the edge of a heavenly bed, a rustling stirs you awake.

You blink through the thinly-streamed sunlight casting into the room and adjust your vision, trying to decipher where you are.

Rafe stands in front of his closet, shirtless, searching through to find something to wear. When you lift your head off the pillow, groggy sounds escaping your lips, he turns his head. 

"Shit, did I wake you?" He asks, brows furrowed together.

"Are you going somewhere?" You respond, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. "Should I go home?"

Last night, after you accepted Rafe's invitation to stay over at Tannyhill, you didn't do anything other than shower, take a Plan B, and go to sleep. It was a long day and when Rafe shuffled into his sheets, you pulled yourself to the ledge of the mattress. It wasn't done out of separation, but because of an unusual habit you developed as the sole provider for your sisters. You always stay close enough to the edge that, if any problems arise in the middle of the night, you have the fastest exit.

Rafe shakes his head, rounding the bed to approach your side. He can't believe how pretty you are, even just waking up, fresh-faced with no makeup. His chest buzzes with an indescribable feeling.

"It's fine," he declares. "I'm about to head out to brunch with my dad. We have to talk through some things that happened last night."

You don't miss the grimace in his tone.

Frowning, you offer, "do you want me to come?"

Honestly, Rafe would love that. Having you by his side while he’s conversing with his father would ground him. Because he knows, if Ward Cameron sees him as incompetent and expandable, at least with you, he isn’t. 

"You have nothing to wear."

You glance down at your sleepwear, a borrowed shirt from Rafe's closet that cuts mid-thigh, and realize he's right. It wasn't like you packed an overnight bag and your only options are to reuse the gown from last night or your bartender work attire.

There is Sarah's closet but after Rafe's whole conflict with his sister returning, you'd rather not put it on the table.

"Right." You drawl, pressing your lips together while you consider alternatives. "You could drop me off at my house. I can change."

He shakes his head, concealing a rising smile at your determination to attend. "Not enough time."

"What time is it?"

"A quarter after eleven. I have to meet him there by noon."

He's right. The drive to The Cut is going to take most of that time.

"I'll be fine." Rafe declares. "I've handled him for the past twenty-three years. I can handle a few hours."

You nod, saying nothing. What could you say? You're taking Rafe's words at face value and if he believes he can go into this meeting without having another destructive conversation, then you can only believe him.

"I should go then." You throw the comforter off your body, the coldness of the morning breeze sends a shiver down your spine. Your legs drape off the ledge. "Since you won't be here."

"No." Rafe asserts suddenly, causing you to stop in your tracks. "I'll be back. Just hang out here."

He doesn't want you to leave. Whatever conversation he'll have with his father, it would either settle on a concession or a bad ending. Rafe already mentally prepared the layout of his day and he knows he'll need you after. To talk. To comfort. To be here with him.

"Alone?" You confirm, the idea is scandalous to your ears. "In your mansion? Aren't you afraid I'm going to steal something of yours?"

You're playing into Pogue stereotypes, testing if Rafe trusts you enough.

"You wouldn't." He shakes his head with confidence and you still don't have your answer.

“You don’t know that.” You challenge with a tease. “I saw some things downstairs I would like to take home. If I just swipe them when you leave…” Your voice trails off when Rafe settles in front of you, both arms pressed on either side of your hips and he levels down his face to be inches away from yours. 

"I could just buy them for you."

Your heart sputters. You stare back at him, admiring his freshly-clean look with a faint scent of aftershave. He looks handsome. His blue eyes set on you, captivating and waiting. For a brief moment, you could see yourself letting him in. 

You expel an awkward laugh. ‘Yeah, right,” you hit his shoulders, trying to create some distance between the two of you, but it doesn’t work. The touch only further the buzz within you, stirring something from the pit of your stomach. “Like I would let you.” 

"But you'd rather steal?"

You shrug, needing to look away, pretending to admire a thread you found on his sheets. "What did I tell you that day in Topper's house?"

He hazily recounts the details. The night when you came and propositioned him. Where he got into a fight with a stranger for harassing you. Where you patched him up.

"I only remember you on my lap."

You scoff, turning back to him. "Of course you would." 

You make a move to stand, but Rafe lays a hand on your hips, keeping you in place.

"What?" You ask breathlessly, despite the limited movement.

“You promised you were going to ride me.” He recalls lowly, pushing the fabric of his tee up your thighs and creating goosebumps in its wake. “You don’t have makeup on.”

Shaky breaths leave you, trying to remain in control. But you know you’re losing it with every light caress Rafe is giving you, igniting the heat between your legs. “Are you always this horny in the morning?”  

"Just for you, sweetheart."

Your mind is warping and you fumble for excuses.

"I have morning breath."

"We don't have to kiss."

"You have a meeting in less than an hour."

"We'll be quick."

With a huff, you retort. "Do you always have an answer for everything I say?"

He chuckles. "I know you now."

You're afraid he truly does.

Your lips part when his hand cups the underside of your jaw, tilting your gaze to meet his. His eyes scans over your features, reading how willing you are, and mumbles. "That's my girl."

Your skin buzzes with his praise, and Rafe goes to remove your shirt—his shirt that you’re wearing, the sight of which drives him insane—and exposing your bare tits and panties underneath. No matter how many times he sees you naked, it amazes him every time. That it’s him that gets to see you this way. That it’s him who gets to touch you. 

"Fuck." He whispers, sinking to his knees as his hands spread your legs apart. He wants nothing more than to sink in you, but he wants to please you first. Lowering, Rafe kisses the base of your knee to your inner thighs. "You're so fucking gorgeous."

It's things like this that make your head spin. Not the mind-blowing sex—no, that's a plus—but his words. The little acts. You don't know whether to trust them because mostly, he only utters them when you're intimate. You know how different it can be afterwards.

His fingers go under the band of your underwear and take them off with your assistance. 

"Such a pretty pussy." His thumb traces up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and causing you to buckle from his slow, teasing touch.

"Rafe." You warn. "The time."

He glances over his shoulders to the digital clock sitting on his dresser and turns back to you with a smirk. "How about you watch it and tell me how I'm doing?"

"You have a meeting soon."

"Baby, you really don't want to rush me." He declares, moving closer and pushing your legs onto his shoulders. His tongue lightly grazes your cunt, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip. "I wanna enjoy this."

Rafe flattens his tongue, performing languid strokes as your fingers threads through his hair. You arch into his face when he sucks on your clit, his fingers entering you in simultaneous thrusts. Your eyes flutter close from the sensation.

"You taste so good, baby, I could have you for breakfast every morning." He mumbles against your opening, the vibration of his rasps elevates the pleasure and aids you towards your climax.

When you come on his face, Rafe guides you through your release and when he pulls back, he checks the clock. "Not bad, huh?"

You shake your head softly, a dazed smile on your lips. "I bet I can do better."

"Yeah?"

You push yourself forward to remove his sweatpants, the outline of his bulge prominent, and while you tease him with light traces on his lower abdomen, the sound of a ringtone interrupts you.

Rafe moves over to the dresser where his phone sits and answers the call from his father. "Yeah?" He greets, listening to what Ward has to say. "You said twelve."

Another exchange is made before Rafe ends, and when he does, he rolls his eyes, agitation evident on his features. "I have to go. My dad is moving up the time."

You smother the aching disappointment and nod. "Okay," you say, picking up your panties from the floor and sliding them over your hips. You glance over to the door, contemplating your own exit. He notices. 

"I'll be back, alright?" Rafe reaffirms, coming over to plant a gentle kiss on your temple and your body leans into his touch. "Just stay."

While you wait for Rafe to explain, you take a tour around the estate. Midway through your exploration of family portraits and expensive winery around the kitchen, you receive a phone call from the babysitter. 

"Hello?" You answer, while the babysitter is scrambling to produce coherent words. "Wait, wait, slow down. What's going on?"

She doesn't explain much, informing you to get home immediately and hangs up. Your heart sputters by the sudden disconnect and you race to Rafe's bedroom to collect your things before ordering a rideshare. When you hop in, your leg restlessly taps on the floor of the car while you check the battery on your phone.

You're imagining the worst possible scenarios. Something happened to your sisters. They got injured. One of them is in the hospital. The other is missing. Or, somehow, the house caught on fire and now, you're homeless.

When you reached your destination, the car didn't halt to a full stop before you hopped out, running down the driveway to the familiar, unscathed house. That calms your mind for a moment.

Before you realize it's something much worse.

"Aaron." You murmur, shoulders tense as your eyes widen, recognizing the tall dark-haired man standing in front of your door, talking to the babysitter who's blocking the entryway. He turns his head at your arrival, eyes cascading down your body before meeting your gaze.

"Y'know, you've been a hard woman to find." He chuckles to himself, the sound making all the hair on your body stand up. Aaron pushes himself off the beam of your porch. "Where you been?"

Your heart is hammering in your chest. You glance over to the babysitter to signal her and she reenters the house and barricades the door. Inhaling a sharp breath, you try to calm yourself.

"What are you doing here?"

He tsk. "Wrong answer. I asked you first."

"I know I'm late—"

"I don't wanna hear excuses." He holds out his hand, flexing the various dark ink crawling up his forearms. "I just want an answer."

His voice is calm. Too calm. It's scaring you.

"I've been busy. Business been slow—"

"Is that not an excuse I'm hearing?" He says, stepping closer to you. You can see the outline of his gun tucked under the band of his pants and your breath shortens. "Where have you been?"

With your heartbeat in your throat, you don't know what answer you can give to satisfy him. So, you remain silent.

When Aaron realizes that, he tilts his gaze out into the driveway with a huff. "I heard you been running around with a Kook," he states, matter-of-fact, and you can smell the faint stench of nicotine wafting from his clothes. "Was that him?"

He's referring to your rideshare driver. You shake your head frantically. "No. But, I swear to you, I'll get you your money if I have more time."

He scoffs in disbelief, turning back and ignoring your pleas. His dark eyes find the pendant wrapped around your neck and he lets out a cold chuckle. "And he's been giving you some real nice gifts, too."

Fuck, this isn't a good look for you. Your panic is skyrocketing and you resist the strongest urge to hide the expensive jewelry behind your palm.

"Aaron." You begin again, your voice shifting to desperation. "I just need a little bit more time. This doesn't mean—"

He holds out another hand. "Look, I've been a nice guy. Wouldn't you say so?" He prompts, tilting his head, and when you don't answer, he adds. "I mean, what kind of person would lend you thirty grand? I consider that pretty generous, right?"

You swallow hard, your throat dry. "Right."

"And I've done nothin' yet to make you not trust me otherwise, right?"

You hesitate with a shaky breath, your knees buckling. "Right."

"So, all I'm asking is to return the gesture and give me back my money. I help you, you help me, that's how this relationship works, right?"

"Aaron, I—"

"If you interrupt me one more time, I'll cut out that fucking tongue."

You let out a small whimper, silencing yourself. Both hands tucked behind your back. He smiles at your submission, dark eyes gleaming in pride. "Good."

Aaron draws closer, stopping just in front of you. His grimy fingers trails down the length of your neck, following the chain of your necklace, before grabbing the pendant between his fingers and ripping it off. The clasp breaks and a gasp leaves your lips.

With his other hand, he seizes the back of your neck.

"Three days." He threatens, the grip piercing into your skin. "I'm givin' you three more days and if you can't pay me back by then, I won't be such a nice guy anymore."

He waves the dangling necklace in front of your face. "I'll keep this as collateral."

You're shaking under his touch and he notices, smiling crudely, before he does another sweep of your exposed body. "And y'know, there's other ways of paying me back."

Aaron finally releases you, and you stumble away from him with a few steps. The dark-haired man descends off your porch and disappears on his bike, leaving you trembling at the foot of your door.

You don't move for the next few minutes. Your mind is occupied with everything going on, that when you slip into your house, you run on autopilot.

You pay the babysitter, patting her back as a silent gratitude for her assistance and protection, and gather your sisters onto the couch, holding them close. Hugging them tight. Trying to use their heartbeats to calm yours.

The rest of the night is spent with them. They wanted to watch a movie and you pulled out an old disk of their favorite films. With that on, they quickly fall asleep on your shoulders and you carry them to their bedroom.

That's when the real work begins.

Spending the rest of your time on the kitchen island, devising a plan, you hear a knock at your door.

Afraid that the loan shark had returned to make a second visit, you hoped it would go away, only for the sound to grow more intense and adamant. Your fear spikes and you were afraid he was going to do something much worse if you didn't answer. When you approached the front door, you held your breath.

Only to find a blond.

"Where were you?" Rafe demands, his expression unreadable but his words are cold. It rubs you the wrong way, reminding you too closely of Aaron.

You can't handle it. You attempt to shut the door, only for Rafe to stick his foot between the crack and push back.

"What the fuck? What are you doing?" Rafe enters into your house, his eyes searching the place for anything out of the ordinary, anything you would hide from him, before his gaze lands on you.

You cross your arms protectively over your chest, thinking this is another one of his outbursts. "Rafe, I don't have time right now. Whatever you're pissed off about, you have to wait—"

"I came home and you were gone."

That quiets you.

"Your shit was gone. Even your mess from the bathroom was wiped clean." He recounts, struggling to conceal the vulnerability seeping through his words with each reveal. "You didn't even leave a note."

Your mind is muddled. You didn't realize it would affect him this much and something about the act endears you. You were so frantic, trying to figure out how to get home before your phone dies, that you forgot your own commitment to Rafe.

"Say something." He urges.

"What happened?" You ask softly, discovering your answer when his expression twists. Like he doesn't want to think about it. You don't want to think about your problems either. "I assumed you would go to a party."

You say that because, if Rafe didn't have you conveniently-located at his disposal, he would return to his own vices. It stings him that you still thought of him as his former image, but he couldn't completely fault you because he did—he went to one of the island's parties and came out still feeling empty.

Rafe's jaw locks as he stares at you, breathing heavily. Taking you in. How just the sight of you seems to soothe him. He doesn't know how to explain it, when the tides changed, but it did. The fact that he's here, in this rundown house in the middle of The Cut after a blowout with his father, all because he misses you says it all.

"I don't want to talk." He declares firmly, the resoluteness of his tone shocks you. "Not now. But I will, after, if that's what you want."

You draw your brows together. "What are you getting at, Rafe?"

Rafe swears under his breath. These words, these feelings are difficult to him. It's uncomfortable and unwanted and all it makes him want to do is resort back to his anger, something comfortable he can express himself in. But he can't. Not with you.

"I don't want that shit anymore. I just wanna fuck you."

Your lips part. "What?"

Unintentionally, the natural response came with a tone of hurt but you disguise it well. You recognize your own feelings in that precise moment. When you got into this relationship with Rafe, you knew nothing he does is out of the sincerity of his heart. It's a committed act. A performance of a perfect boyfriend.

Yet, it breaks your heart. How you manage to fall for him, despite knowing everything he does is fake. Even now, standing before you, he's admitting his clear intentions and you can't help but envision another meaning.

It can destroy you, this hope, only if you let it. You'd rather let the clear lines be drawn. If Rafe is telling you he wants to use you for sex, so be it. You won't ask for anything else.

When your silence becomes deafening, Rafe abandons his last shred of pride.

"Please."

You inhale sharply, evening your words. You can detach too. "Ask me."

His large hand tucks under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. "Can I use you?"

"Yes."

The confirmation was all he needed before his lips slams into yours. His hands lowers to capture your ass and as a signal, you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist. Rafe moves through the hallway and towards your bedroom, kick-opening the door, causing the doorknob to smash into your wall with a loud thump.

You pull back from the kiss. "Don't break my house."

"I'll pay for that."

Rafe drops you onto the bed and pulls off his shirt you took from Tannyhill. His movements are skilled and hurried, needing to see you, to taste you. He kisses down your neck, to the curve of your shoulders, before finding himself between the valley of your breasts. His mouth covers a nipple.

You tip your head back with a moan, reveling in the way his tongue twirls around the metal barbell, igniting your nerves. Rafe rocks against your spread legs and you feel his bulge teasing your core. "Rafe, please."

"What did I tell you about rushing me?" He murmurs against your skin. "I'm trying to enjoy this."

The challenge hangs in the air and when Rafe gives both of your tits equal attention, he pulls back to admire the sight of your hard nipples wet and glistening. Tilting his gaze up to you, he palms a breast in his hand.

"I'm going to be rough." He announces. "Tell me if it hurts."

Your heart swells from the gesture but you wish he would just do it without caution. It'll be easier to separate your feelings.

Leaning forward to capture a kiss, you breathe into his mouth. "You said use me, right? Then use me."

His eyes darken. "Don't say something you'll regret."

"Then make me regret it."

You're exactly what he needs.

Rafe wastes no more time and strips out of his clothes, his cock springing free from his boxer, all red and swollen. You can't help but feel a pang of pity, remembering how he had to leave this morning without release.

Reaching out to cup him, he snatches your wrists in one hand. "What do you think you're doing?"

You pout. "I'm helping you."

"Did I tell you to?" His words are commanding, shifting to a state that leaves no room for arguments. You swallow hard, feeling a thrill passing through you at his control. "Are you going to be a good girl tonight and do as you're told?" 

You nod.

"I need words, sweetheart."

"Yes." You say desperately and Rafe releases you.

Pushing you back against the mattress, he pulls you to the ledge and removes your shorts and panties. When you're open and dripping for him, he thrusts into you without warning.

"Shit," you let out a cry. Rafe pushes the back of your thighs into a bend, your kneecaps beside your ears, and this new position gives him access to enter deeper.

"Fuck, I needed this." He moans, burying in ecstasy at the way you wrap perfectly around him. "Why would I ever want to go to another fucking party when I can have this every night?"

You can't answer him, too lost in the initial pain that quickly fades into your credence of pleasure. Moans escape you, elevating in volume with each pump. You had to slap both your hands over your mouth to muffle your sounds from waking your sisters.

Rafe recognizes that immediately. That's the only reason he isn't ripping them off right now—to let him hear how he makes you feel, to listen to what he's owed—because he knows where your priorities lie.

"Please don't stop," you whimper through your fingers, which are slowly loosening as you feel the familiar tension tightening in your gut.

"Sweetheart, God can't even pull me away from this pussy right now." Rafe grunts. Your walls flutter around him. "You're about to come, aren't you?"

You nod desperately and Rafe fastens his rhythm, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as you race towards your orgasm with a loud, uninhibited moan that echoes through the room. He had to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.

Panting, you try to catch your breath but Rafe doesn't allow you to rest. Still hungry, still needing, he pulls out and flips you on your stomach, hauling your ass in the air.

Your legs burn from the way he folded you but you still get on your knees. Breathing heavily with your profile pressed against your sheets, you feel his hands flattening against the smooth curve of your cheeks, squeezing.

Rafe takes his time to admire you from behind. So willing, so wanting, he can see you dripping and making a mess on your covers. He chuckles. "Do you need me, baby?"

"I want you," you breathe, "inside, please."

"Inside where?" Rafe grips the base, tapping his tip on your wet folds. "Here?" He mocks, before shifting to the opening of your asshole. "Or here?"

Your breath hitches; the unfamiliar contact sends a shiver down your spine.

"Come on, sweetheart. I need an answer." Rafe taunts, rubbing his slick cock over your hole, anticipation pricking his skin as he sees you contract. "Would this be your first?"

You nod, too disoriented to form words.

He grins. "Are you going to let me fuck your asshole?"

The feeling of your slickness rubbing against your back entrance feels foreign but not unwelcome, sending hot desire to your core. While you struggle to produce an affirmative, Rafe leans forward to grab your throat, pulling you upright.

"Are you going to answer me, Pogue, or am I going to have to do it for you?"

You hate the term Pogue, especially when he uses it, but at this moment, with his hot breath fanning the crook of your neck, you're glad he is. It reminds you—to separate the sex and your heart.

"Whatever you want." You confess.

Rafe drops you back onto the mattress, spitting on your asshole and wets the area with the pad of his thumb. He didn't immediately enter, as you would have predicted, and instead pushed a thick digit through your hole.

You try to relax, shivering through unfamiliar contact.

"Oh, shit, you're so tight for me." He breathes out, sliding in two. "I know you're going to make me come in a second."

He thrusts in-and-out at a slow pace, prepping you, but the lack of friction is causing you to grow impatient and needy. All you want is him. 

"Do it. I'm ready."

Rafe laughs. Not listening. "But this isn't about you, is it?"

He tests you out for a couple more minutes, getting you comfortable and relaxed, and it lures you into a false sense of security. When you find yourself gathering your breath, it shifts into a sudden emptiness of his removal, and before you know it—he pushes the head of his cock in, surprising you with a scream. 

The pressure stings from the initial intrusion, and you wince, gripping onto the sheets and burying your face, but as Rafe gradually fills you, the pain fades into an unlikely pleasure, floating and amplified all over your body.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans. "Am I hurting you?"

You hesitate before nodding. "Yes..."

He stills. "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head. "No."

Something ignites deep and carnal within Rafe. The way your body tightens, your legs shaking, and the submission in your voice as he has his way with you. The fact that you want to continue, despite the hurt, because he wants it, drives him insane.

"You're being such a good girl tonight."

The compliment drives your enthusiasm and you wiggle your ass against his cock, feeling him twitch inside of you. It flips his control. Rafe quickly grabs your hips, holding you in place.

He grits out. "Don't do that."

"Why not?" You whine, wanting to feel him deeper, more full. "I'm only trying to help."

A laugh can't help but escape him. At how cockdrunk you are—it carves something in his chest. "God, you really are my personal slut. Doing anything to make me feel good, won't you?"

You don't answer, the call-out warming your cheeks at your own recognition. You said it once during sex, a tease on him, but now you can't help but see how true it is. Now, it feels like an attack on the independent facade you crafted as part of your character.

Rafe wants to hear you. He grips your hips harder, leaving bruises. "Say it."

You shake your head. You don't want him to know how much you're willing to give him. It's too vulnerable.

The lack of silence isn't enough for him.

Rafe rails into you, bottoming out, and you let out a cry at the intensity of his size, at the pressure buried in you, and the pain-pleasure that pulsates through your body. You understand it's your own punishment, but your teeth sinks into your bottom lip, refusing to budge.

He goes again. And again. To the point that he's rage-fucking you, abandoning all restraints and channeling his aggression from his brunch and your disobedience. He wants to know you'll be willing to sacrifice your pride as much as he sacrifices his and he's pissed that you aren't.

A tit-for-tat. 

One of your hands slips between your legs, rubbing your clit in simulation. The euphoria explodes all over, especially with how Rafe fills you from behind, and you moan wildly, causing him to discover the act and pin your wrists behind your back.

"No."

"Rafe." You beg, the ache between your legs is demanding and left without resolution. "Touch me."

He shakes his head with a tsk. "Bad girls don't deserve that."

You have a retort on your lips but it's forgotten the moment he thrusts into you, so deep, it hits a spot you didn't know existed and causes you to roll your eyes to the back of your head.

"Fuck, you're loud." He grumbles, grabbing your panties from the side and bundling them into a tight ball, shoving it into your mouth. You choke on surprise.

"Rafe–"

"Shut. Up." He warns viciously, knowing the increment level of noises you're producing is going to wake your siblings. Another reason why you won't let him in. "And just take it like a good slut."

Something about his command exhilarates you. Bounded and gagged, Rafe is fucking your ass, and all you can think about is you're letting him. You want this. Even with his harsh words.

You had to give him something.

"Like yours." You admit, the muffling of your panties works wonders at stifling your words.

Despite that, he heard it. Rafe pauses for a moment. You aren't giving him everything, but he hears it in the confession.

His command is low. "Say that again."

"I'm yours." You whimper, desperate and submissive. "Please make me come."

His chest warms and his smile is smug. Rafe slides his hand from your hips to your needy cunt, rubbing your swollen nub with tight circles, causing you to buckle and heightening your rising peak.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp with a sharp breath, "oh, god, oh, god."

When you come, your orgasm hits in waves—intense and demanding—ripping out of you despite the gag, and searing in such an elevated state that you slump back onto the bed. Rafe has to abandon everything to grab your middle, holding you up.

He continues to penetrate you from behind until he fills you up, his hot cum leaking out of you. When he pulls out, he takes his fingers and pushes it back in, causing you to contract with a low, lazy moan.

You're out of it. You thought it would be the end but Rafe's appetite is insatiable. He settles back against the headboard of your bed, breathing heavily with a sheen of sweat covering his taut chest, and beckons you.

"Rafe," you groan weakly. "What?"

"Come here."

Despite the throbbing in your muscles, you crawl to him. Settling next to his pelvis, you glance down at his softening cock. "Get me hard again."

Your eyes widen at the instruction. "Are you not tired?"

"Never of you."

You roll your eyes before your fingers gingerly wrap around his shaft, slowly rubbing him out, feeling it harden underneath your touch in a matter of seconds. You gleam in a bit of pride at your ability. You turn back to him, drawn out and exhausted. "Now, what?"

"Ride me."

"What?"

"Come on, sweetheart." He teases, grabbing your waist and moving you to mount over him. Your entrance hovers over his tip, sensitive—so, so sensitive—that you let out a small whine. "You have a promise to keep."

You try. Lowering yourself to let the head in, you immediately pull back, hissing from your overestimation with a fervent shake of your head.

"Rafe." You pant, eyes searching his face. "I can't. I–I think I'm done."

"I'm not." And with that, he thrusts upwards and into you. You collapse onto his cock, sinking down with a cry as tears prick your line of vision from the overwhelming ache of pleasure.

You still move against him, trying to produce some friction, despite your words. Rafe sees how you're working, trying to please him, that he pulls you down to capture your mouth in a tender kiss, drawing out your pain with some pleasantry.

His hand cups the side of your face and you melt into his touch, the act removes all your inhibitions. When he retreats, he whispers against your lips. "Last one, okay, baby? I know you can hold out for me a little longer."

Determination courses through you.

You, with tear-stained cheeks, nods. You straighten your posture, closing your eyes and will yourself through the pain, bouncing on his cock and ignoring the burning sensation in the back of your thighs.

Rafe watches your tits bounce and uses the opportunity to capture the bar lined between your nipples, twisting and pulling them to produce pleasure for you. The additive of his touch pushes your body into overdrive and you feel yourself growing closer once again.

"Please, please, please." You beg, to anyone, anything with a higher power, to guide you through this climax. It's the hardest to peak, and you try to quicken your pace, but your legs give out and you fall flat. Rafe, knowing the familiar twitch of your walls around him, begins to assist and thrusts into you.

"I'm close, baby," he grunts, pumping forward with enough force that pushes both of you through your orgasm and riding out your highs together. You clench so tightly around him, in the aftermath, that he can barely move. 

When you feel the familiar warm pool spilling inside of you, you let him empty it all out, and when you dismount, you fall into the space beside Rafe, leaking and complete fucked out.

Rafe knows your next move is to pull to the ledge, to separate some distance between the two of you, but he doesn't give you the chance before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. His breathing is heavy, his heart rate is fast, and he's worn out from the session.

You don't resist, letting yourself calm down with him. It isn't until he presses a soft kiss to the back of your shoulders and wipes away some of your tears that your stomach flips. "You okay?" He murmurs against your heated skin. 

You want to cry. Not from the sensation but because of how gentle he's treating you after; how it's messing with your feelings and making you think of things you shouldn't.

"I'm fine." You lie, putting your hand over his arms and peeling them off of your body before pulling to the ledge. It feels like a safety tactic nowadays.

Rafe takes it as some kind of rejection and when you move into a sitting position, back pressed against the headboard, you turn to him with a raised brow.

"Do you want to talk about it now?" You ask, doing something, anything to stop this feeling from building inside of your chest and giving you hope. You remind yourself of the transactions; the falsehood of it all.

He doesn't, especially with the distance, but he does it anyway, out of respect for your terms.

"My dad is giving away the case to Sarah."

Your lips part. "What?"

"The one with the marsh and hotel? Yeah."

You pause, taking a few seconds to gather your words. "And you're upset because it's unfair?"

He doesn't answer you immediately. He's not upset about the case itself, there's hundreds of other opportunities for him to handle business like that. Especially now knowing he could. It was the fact that it was our case, because you helped him figure it out. You were his partner.

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "I worked hard on it. She doesn't deserve all the credit."

You hum in understanding. "I'm sorry."

Rafe huffs. "I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity, it's compassion." You correct. "You're pissed and you're hurt by something your dad did to you. It's okay to feel that. I'm sorry you have to feel that."

Rafe says nothing, watching you.

His heart aches.

You’re so understanding. So perfect. He doesn’t know how to explain how every time he comes in with this need for you, for you to satisfy him physically, only to come out of it a different man. Someone better. Someone more in-tuned with himself. He never had someone like that in his life. 

He looks at you like you’re a dream but he’s afraid he isn’t yours. 

You decide to move the conversation elsewhere, not wanting to end the night in such a depressive state. "Are you staying the night?" 

“Are you kicking me out?” Rafe asks tightly. 

He wants to understand you, of where you’re ranking him at. He knows he’s going to absolutely lose it if he has to go back to Tannyhill tonight. 

"No." You declare, grabbing the comforter and throwing it over your body. You should really take a shower and clean up, but you're so exhausted right now, all you want is to go to sleep and figure it out tomorrow.

"Does that mean..." He trails off, wanting to hear you say it, wanting you to ask him.

You don't.

"Whatever you want, Rafe." You yawn, rubbing your eyes. "If you stay, you stay. If you leave, just make sure to lock the door behind you."

And with that, you fell asleep.

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[crvptidgf]

Could I please request a obsessed mattheo riddle husband x reader please?

i’ve posted it here tysm for requesting!!

[crvptidgf]

Obsessed

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘

obsessed husband!mattheo who never likes being away from you for too long, always getting anxious when you have to be apart from eachother

obsessed husband!mattheo who has your location at all times in order to calm his nerves. he likes knowing where you are and being able to come help you if needs be

obsessed husband!mattheo who is always asking if he can come hang out with you and your wife buddies even though you have repeatedly told him it’s a girl’s night only

obsessed husband!mattheo who’s favorite activity is sitting in, watching a movie, with you under him and his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. it feels like you two are the only people in the world and if he could have it that way he would

obsessed husband!mattheo who had to work on his possessive tendencies when you two got married because he was scared you would leave him. you know he means well but sometimes he takes it too far

obsessed husband!mattheo who will sit between your thighs for hours at a time if it means you get to feel good. he won’t get up until he’s sure you’re satisfied

obsessed husband!mattheo who always needs to be touching you or holding onto you. his favorite is your hand because he gets to play with the wedding band on your finger, knowing that you’re only his and he’s yours

obsessed husband!mattheo who will try not to freak out when you don’t text him throughout the day. he would do anything to make sure you’re safe and well

obsessed husband!mattheo who doesn’t care who it is, he’s fighting whoever dares lay a hand on his precious wife. even if it means taking a beating himself - if it’s for you, he’d do whatever it took

obsessed husband!mattheo who is always thinking of you. he buys you little souvenirs and gifts when he goes out or comes home from work. it can be anything from your favorite chocolates to a lingerie set that he thought you would look good in (but to him you look good in everything)

obsessed husband!mattheo who has already planned renewing your vows one day, hopefully with a mini you as the flower girl/boy

obsessed husband!mattheo who can’t wait to see you carrying your baby. he already knows what the nursery will look like, it’s only a matter of planning the when

obsessed husband!mattheo who finally feels at peace when your healthy child is born. he now knows peace, and knows that you will never leave him now that you have started your family together

[crvptidgf]

Hi! Can I be in the taglist for "Pogue Gone Rogue"? I love it so much! Thanks in advance ^^

ofc and omg thank you for your love on the fic!!! i really appreciate everybody’s interest in it because i’ve been wanting to write it for ages🤞🏻

[crvptidgf]

crying this is so tooth-rottingly sweet😭

♡ㅤׄㅤִㅤ ୨୧  rafe cameron & his sweetheart girlfriend ✧

ᝰ rafe didn’t realize just how badly he craved kind, gentle love until he met her. he assumed every relationship he’d be in would be dysfunctional but then this girl, who’s sunshine personified, comes into his life and he has never wanted someone more.

ᝰ he’s a nervous wreck the whole time he pursues her. she’s well aware of his bad reputation and the fact that she takes the time to get to know him with open arms instead of letting gossip influence her makes it all the more clear to him how sincere she is.

ᝰ just because she’s sweet doesn’t mean she takes his shit. rafe is a victim to his own temper at times and when he snaps at her, she calmly tells him to cool down and talk to her about what’s really bothering him. she doesn’t escalate arguments. she talks him down. and he loves her for it.

ᝰ rafe would die of embarrassment if anyone saw what he’s like with her. he loves when she plays with his hair and leaves kisses all over his face. his favorite place in the world is on top of her, his head on her chest, wondering how he got lucky enough to win the heart he hears beating.

ᝰ she’s his best friend and maybe his buddies would give him shit for that, but it’s true. because he has never known a bond like this. not only does he have fun with her, but he actually feels understood for once. eventually, she knows him better than he knows himself.

ᝰ rafe hates crying but he hates it the least when it’s with her. he’s used to being told to toughen up. but she doesn’t do anything of the sort. she holds him, consoles him, keeps her gaze off of him because she knows he hates being looked at when he’s in this state.

ᝰ she’s the first one to say the word love and rafe has never felt happier in his life. he has felt love for her for months, but knows he wouldn’t survive if she didn’t say it back. he kisses her hard, whispering that he loves her over and over, making up for every time he thought it but couldn’t say it.

ᝰ the feeling he gets from having somebody worry about him is unreal. he’s used to being neglected and ignored, but she shows her concern for him in countless ways. she’s always reminding him to drive his motorcycle carefully. he eventually tacks a photo of her on his dash as a reminder not to speed because he has a reason to live now.

ᝰ rafe isn’t surprised that his family adores her. his father mentions something in passing about her being a good apple. she even makes ward crack a smile with one of her jokes every so often. rafe doesn’t know how somebody could be so perfect. he’d love her even without the approval but he’s comforted by the fact that he doesn’t have to worry about it.

ᝰ she sees something in rafe that he doesn’t see in himself. he actually likes who he is around her. he’s still rough around the edges with others, but he’s his most authentic self with her. she’s on his mind all day and he misses her every minute they’re not together. he calls her his angel, because that’s truly what she is to him.

inspired by an ask from @putherup 💘

[crvptidgf]

thank you so much for 2k followers!! i love u all so much MWAH.

also is there anything specific you guys would like to see more of? (like more fics of certain characters). lmk :)

[crvptidgf]

hey, it is my second time asking for a request. But I was wondering if you could do a FLUFF Mattheo riddle X fem Ravenclaw reader? Where she has a fever and is crying from a horrible headache, he pampers her and carries her around with her arms around his beach and him holding her legs, cuddles, she calls him Teo for short, and the medicine she has to take tastes horrible? And he makes sure she takes a shower and takes the medicine? Sorry I know that it is long! But thanks for taking time to read and consider it! I love you videos and they always make me feel all warm inside. Again tysm!❤️ and if you don’t mind can you tag me in it if you do do one? Thanks!❤️

it won’t let me tag you but i’ve posted the fic!

thank you so much for requesting, and for your support on my writing! it really means a lot to me that people enjoy what i put out, and even more that you’re letting me know. i hope the fic lived up to your expectations 🫶🏻

[crvptidgf]

Playing Doctor

Mattheo Riddle x Ravenclaw!Reader

➸ summary: you fall ill and your boyfriend takes it upon himself to make sure you take care of yourself

➸ warnings/notes: mentions of getting sick, taking medication, fevers and feeling ill, poor eating, other than that it’s just fluff

word count: 684

————————

IN THE PAST five hours you have cried, thrown up, fallen asleep and woke up at least 3 times. And to top it all off, your fever has been steadily going up bit by bit.

You weren’t sure if there was a virus going around or if you just had extremely bad luck. The only thing you were grateful for was that you got to skip class. And for Mattheo.

He had not left your side the whole day. No matter how many times you warned him that he would get sick, he still opted to stay in your dorm instead of attending his lectures. He made sure to ask your friends for any notes you missed, knowing that you got stressed over falling behind.

There was no way your fellow Ravenclaw classmates would let you down in that department. They were masters at note-taking.

So with the worries of school out of your mind, you were able to some-what relax. However that didn’t last long. You shot up out of bed suddenly, your stomach lurching and your mouth salivating. You were going to throw up.

Mattheo barely had any time to ask if you were okay before you sprinted out of bed and into your ensuite. There wasn’t much to puke out considering you had barely eaten all day. Your boyfriend made his way to you. He held your hair up and helped you clean yourself up, rubbing your shoulders as you sobbed over the bathroom sink in pain.

“It’s okay,” he said while gently picking you up bridal style, “you’ll feel better soon I promise. You just need to get it all out.”

After setting you on the bed, he stalked over to the bedside table where he pulled out a box of antibiotics. You whined in protest.

“Teo, I can’t take those. They taste like shit and I’ll only get sick again.”

Sitting on the bed, he sighed. “I know, but you have to, sweetheart.”

He pet the hair away from your face, pushing the sweaty strands to rest behind your neck. You were getting frustrated now. Unfortunately though, in order to get better he would have to get you to take the medication. So he decided to come up with a solution.

“Tell you what,” Mattheo spoke as he set the pills down again. “If you try to eat a bit of the soup Luna brought, we can skip this round of medicine.”

It wasn’t a great idea to stray from the medical schedule, but he couldn’t think of another way. And anyhow, you hadn’t eaten all day. He would take the milestones as they came.

You rubbed your forehead, thinking about it. You finally gave in and nodded, immediately regretting it and wincing at the pain. In all honesty you knew you should’ve just taken the medicine. Every bite and swallow of the food made your stomach churn, and you had to take breaks in between to focus on keeping it all down.

Mattheo watched as you ate, smiling.

“Why are you smiling at my pain?” you croaked, lifting the spoon up to try get some more nourishment.

He only shrugged. His eyes were too fixated on your bowl of soup. What he failed to mention was that while he went to heat up the food, he slipped your antibiotics inside, hoping that the taste would be masked.

“Just thinking. I kind of like playing doctor for you.”

You smiled. The first smile you had managed in the past hour. Your boyfriend always did everything he could to make your life easier, and you were eternally grateful.

“Can we sleep now?”

Grabbing the bowl from you, he put it aside and scooted under your blankets. He had wanted you to sweat out the fever, so the layers were slightly hard to get under. It was worth it to make sure you wouldn’t get too cold.

With Mattheo’s arm around your shoulder and your head on his chest, you fell asleep quickly. This time you finally slept through the night.

And Mattheo was to thank for it all.

[crvptidgf]

you have no idea how much i love this. how soft rafe is for her??? oh he’s obsessed

boy, you got her — r. cameron

part 1. part 2. part 3. here's part 4 (or whatever part this is to you, depending on how much you've read). i just couldn't help myself :)

❝ it's true, swear, scouts honor you knew what you wanted and,  boy, you got her ❞

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

context: after a fallout at the boneyard with jj and kie, you agree to a date with rafe.

words: 1.9k+

warnings: jealous!jj, mean!jj (kind of), so so SO fluffy.

"look, i know it's kinda sudden, a'ight?" rafe glances over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. "and you don't have to answer right now. just think about it."

when you and jj broke up, the last thing you would've guessed to happen next was getting into a friends-with-benefits situation with rafe cameron. now, you were sitting in the passenger seat of his truck after he just defended you to your ex-boyfriend and asked you out on a date. 

was it too soon? probably. could you really see it working? maybe. did you want to go? yes—as crazy as that sounded.

you turn your head towards him and shake your head. "i don't have to think about it."

a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips, but he fights it, just in case you said no. "you don't?"

"let's do it."

"yeah?" a chuckle falls from his lips, his smile widening.

"yeah," you nod, as he pulls the car to a stop in front of your family's house on the cut. you lean in to place a kiss on his cheek, making them turn the lightest shade of crimson, before opening your door to hop out. "come pick me up at noon tomorrow."

—

"fuck, fuck, fuckkkkk!" you slam your closet door close, just as your older brother peeks in to see where all the commotion was coming from.

"the hell's the matter with you?" he eyes you carefully, leaning against the doorway, sipping on a can of soda.

you ignore him and begin pacing around the room, tossing clothes from your dresser onto the bed. "what the fuck am i suppose to wear?" you lay out one casual outfit—a crochet top and dark-washed shorts—and one fancier outfit—a short, white floral sundress with pink flowers.

"since when do you care what you wear?" your brother walks into your room and looks at the clothes laid out on your bed.

"since i'm going on a date," you say, nibbling on your thumb, as your eyes shifted back and forth between the two outfits.

"jj's taking you out?" he asks, looking at you clearly caught by surprise.

jj was never really the "date" type—not that you minded. while the two of you would spend time together all the time, you'd mostly do it with the rest of the pogues. either that, or you'd hang out in your room or the chateau.

"no," you shake your head. "we broke up."

"so who you goin' out with then?"

you pick up the dress from the bed, and hold it out in front of you, while turning to look into your full-length mirror. "...rafe cameron."

your brother almost chokes on his soda as he snaps his head towards you. "rafe cameron? you're goin' out with a kook?"

"is it really that much of a surprise?" you raise a brow and look at him through the mirror.

"nah," he shakes his head and shrugs. "just didn't think kook was your style."

"well i appreciate your insight, y/b/n, but it's time to go," you turn to shoo him out of the room and push him out your door.

"hey, could you—" before he could evene finish his sentence, you slam the door in his face and return to getting dressed.

while you didn't clear up with rafe exactly what this date would entail, you figured it’d be better to play it safe than be sorry—he was a kook, after all—so you took off your robe and slipped into your mini sundress, before sitting at your desk to crimp your hair and scatter little braids around your head and do your makeup.

after doing so, your phone dings with a text from him, as you slip on some flat sandals.

rafe: downstairs, your brother let me in.

giving yourself one more glance at the mirror to fix your necklaces, you run your hands through your hair and spray on some perfume, before scurrying out your bedroom door and down the hall to greet rafe sitting in the living room with your brother sitting across from him.

"so what are you intentions with my little sister?" your brother asks, just in time for you to intervene.

"oh my god, y/b/n," you say, as rafe stands to greet you. "hey."

you walk over to him and he squeezes you to his side. "hey, doll."

"where we headed?" you asked, noticing him in a salmon colored polo shirt—which somewhat matched the color of the flowers on your dress—and light grey shorts. 

"a little change of plans, actually," he tells you. "i gotta go to this brunch at a club cause my dad's getting some award. you don't mind, do you?"

"we can totally leave any time you want," he adds, when a look of apprehension crosses your face.

you slowly nod, your eyes meeting his. "okay."

"yeah?" a small smile forms on his lips when you agree.

"yeah, let's go," you nod again, before turning to pull him towards the door.

"don't bring her back too late!" your brother jokingly calls after the two of you, as you walk out the front door.

"you're not dad!" you yell back, closing the door behind you.

—

the minute you enter a banquet hall at the country club, decked out with several round tables and decorations, full of kooks dressed in designer sundresses and polos, it dawns on you just how different your worlds are.

rafe was the kook king. these fancy brunches were a part of his weekly routine, while the fanciest place you'd ever been was the diner your parents took you to on your trip to new york a month ago.

"you ok?" rafe's hand snakes around the small of your back and he he leans into you when he notices you glancing around, your fingers fiddling with each other. "hey," his finger comes under your chin to make you face him. "don't fret, a'ight? they'll love you."

they? who the fuck is they?

"top, kelce," rafe calls out to two of his friends, both of whom are dressed just like him, as he leads you to their table, which also sat two other girls—who you recognized to be rafe's sisters. "this is y/n."

"topper," the blond one holds out a hand to you, and the dark skinned one does too. "kelce."

"y/n," you shake both their hands, as rafe pulls out a chair for you to sit down. "it's nice to meet y'all."

"oh my god," the young girl seated next to sarah widens her eyes at you from across the table. "you're that girl rafe's been sneaking in and out of the house at night!"

"wheeze," sarah throws her a look, before smiling at you. "sorry about her, she has no filter. i'm sarah."

"yeah, i know," you nod at her. "kiara's talked about you."

"oh," the smile on her face drops a little. "you're friends with kie?"

"not anymore," you shake your head, and sarah's smile returns. "we were, but… she's showed her true colors." you reach for the glass of water in front of you and take a sip.

"tell me about it," sarah scoffs. "i had to learn that the hard way."

you continue making small talk with sarah, realizing she wasn't half the bitch kiara made her out to be, while rafe's hand rested on your thigh, as he talked to kelce and topper.

"drinks?" you hear a familiar drawl behind you, and find jj standing over you with a platter of mimosas, dressed like a waiter. "y/n?"

a smirk comes across rafe's lips as he turns his head, eyes shifting between the two of you. "hey, man. just one for my girl."

jj's clicks his tongue, as rafe smiles at you and gives your thigh a squeeze, but does his job, and leans down to hold the platter out to you.

"thanks," you avoid eye contact with him as you grab a drink from the platter, and are thankful when sarah calls on him from across the table.

"i'll take one too," she says and jj rounds the table to allow her to grab a drink, his disappointed eyes meeting yours.

a part of you felt bad—it had only been about a month—but then again, he moved on while you two were still together. so was there really a reason for you to feel guilty? you were just doing what he did—but better. at least you waited until the relationship ended.

"i'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick," you whisper to rafe, who gave you a small nod.

"why?" he asked, concern falling over his features. "you okay?"

"yeah," you assure him. "i just gotta pee. i'll be back."

—

by the time you got back from the bathroom, applause was erupting around the room, as rafe, sarah, and wheezie joined their dad on stage with their stepmom.

a smile came across your face as his eyes met yours from across the room and you leaned an elbow on the counter of the bar beside you.

"can't believe you stooped this low," jj comes up beside you, placing the platter down on the bar and downing one of the drinks himself.

"no," you turn your head to look at him and shake your head when rafe becomes occupied taking pictures with his family. "we're not doing this here."

you head out of the room, and he follows. "why? scared your new kook friends are gonna realize you're not one of them? i mean, seriously, y/n— how far are you willing to take this? just to-"

you snap your head towards him. "just to what, jj?"

"to spite me," he says. "i mean, have you looked in the mirror lately?" he motions a hand at your dress. "you're dressed like them, you're eating with brunch with them, you're with him—this isn't you!"

"no," you hold a finger up to him. "i am exactly who i've always been. you just don't know how i look when i'm not in love with you."

a scoff leaves his mouth. "so much for i love you, huh?"

was he for real?

you narrow your eyes and shook your head. "no, you don't get to use that against me. i did love you, j. you were the one who screwed shit up the second you decided to sleep with kie. you are not turning this on me."

"oh my god, would you get over it?" he asked, clearly frustrated. "you slept with rafe cameron, y/n! we're even."

"even?" you spat. "after you betrayed me? broke my trust? my heart? oh, you have no idea just how even it's about to be."

"the hell's going on out here?" rafe joins you and jj outside the banquet hall, immediately coming to your side, a hand on your lower back. "is he bothering you?"

"no," you shake your head. "jj's shift just ended. he was about to go."

rafe shifts his eyes between the two of you, you and jj's eyes focused on each other.

your ex-boyfriend scoffs and shakes his head, but walks away, taking rafe by surprise.

"you wanna tell me what that was all about?" he looks at you, after watching jj leave. 

"nothing to tell," you shrug with a smile, tilting your head up at him. "you wanna head back inside?"

"you wanna stay?"

"yeah," you nod, snaking your arm around his back. "i do."

i love soft rafe almost as much as i love canon rafe tbh.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[crvptidgf]

i’m OBSESSED this was so cute

You want dean AND rafe requests? Well, how about this; Imagine having a sleepover with Sarah and watching Spn, and while she's crushing on Sam, you don't shy away from talking about how Dean is the better option and Rafe hears you going on and on about it, and because your relationship is still pretty much on the down low (yk, because he's your bffs brother), he's forced to keep his jealousy in. Only letting out pouty huffs and passive/mumbled comments of how he was the better option.

older brothers // r.c

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

wc: 1.4k

warnings: slight cursing, implied public smut but nothing explicit, kinda got a little off topic but i think its kinda cute idk

Thank you and enjoy <3

_______________________________

“I don’t know. I have a thing for older brothers, Sarah. You know this,” you say, holding back a smirk as you look at her older brother. Rafe glanced up from his phone to gauge Sarah’s reaction. She remains unaware of the confession you had indirectly made.

Thank god, Rafe thinks. He couldn’t risk Sarah knowing the very real truth behind your statement. The two of you had been dating for two months now, unbeknownst to Sarah. You had begged Rafe to keep your relationship private, in fear of hurting Sarah. She had been your best friend since the second grade. It made you feel like shit keeping such a secret from her. But Rafe agreed, and you couldn’t lose either one of them.

Rafe plops down on the chair closest to your end of the couch. He subtly pushes his chair a bit closer to you. You exchange small smiles, and Rafe winks at you quickly. He decides to busy himself with his phone, still listening to your conversation with his sister.

“Oh, please! Dean is horrible! Sam is so obviously the better choice,” Sarah argues. You scoff.

“No chance! Dean is way better! He gave up his entire life to take care of Sam! His entire motivation for everything he does is to protect Sam! You don’t think he’d put the same effort into a relationship with someone he cares about? Not to mention he’s so much hotter than Sam,” you exclaim, ignoring the fact that Rafe is right beside you.

“I don’t think either one of them are that great,” Rafe mumbles under his breath, only loud enough for you to hear. You let out a quiet laugh and rolled your eyes.

Sarah glares at you playfully, “I wouldn’t know he’s had one semi stable relationship that we’ve seen, and that didn’t end on the best note,” Sarah says referencing the Lisa plot line.

“Plus, Sam has great hair,” Sarah adds quickly. You stare at her in shock for a few seconds.

“Sarah, every time Sam looks at a girl, she bursts into flames. Dean’s clearly the better lover in this situation. He never leaves the bar alone, and he never leaves his lover unsatisfied,’’ you joke about Dean’s habits in the earlier seasons.

You can see Rafe’s head snap to look at you after you finish speaking. The jealousy in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“I cannot believe you just said that!” Sarah looks at you in disbelief, letting out a quick laugh. You laugh with her before continuing to gush about the onscreen brothers. You can see Rafe pouting out of the corner of your eye. You turn your attention back to the screen.

You watch as Demon Dean stalks through the bunker looking for Sam.

“Holy shit, he’s so hot. And the red lights are definitely helping,” You exclaim. You had tried to hold back your comment. Honestly. But the way he holds the hammer and the cinematography with the emergency lighting was just too much.

“I look hot in red LEDs too,” Rafe grumbles quietly. Your eyes shoot to his as you blush faintly. His eyes are partially covered by his floppy hair, but you can still see the disdain in them. He looks miserable with his cheek pressed into fist, his elbow digging into the arm of his chair.

“What’s your problem?” Sarah asks, finally acknowledging Rafe. He raises his head to look at her, his eyes widening slightly.

“I can’t hear what you’re saying, but I can hear you grumbling and brooding over there,” Sarah continues. She copies her brother’s previous position and lets out a string of overdramatic huffs and groans.

“Just annoyed, Sarah. Thank you,” Rafe glares at his little sister. You hold back a small laugh at the two bickering.

Rafe notices and sends you a glare. You notice the switch go off in his head. This is real jealousy now. You hadn’t meant to make Rafe jealous for real. Honestly, you didn’t think a fictional character could cause him such anger.

When the next episode ends, Rafe abruptly leaves the room. You wait a few minutes before telling Sarah you’re going to use the bathroom. She whines about having to pause the show.

“Just fill me in,” you mumble as you exit the room to find Rafe. You watch Sarah to make sure she doesn’t see you heading upstairs rather than to the bathroom down the hall.

You quickly make your way to Rafe’s bedroom, the door slightly ajar. You push it open to find Rafe sulking on his bed. You hold back a small laugh when you notice the pout on his face.

“Rafe, what’s wrong?” You question as you plop onto his bed beside him. He’s laying on his back with his head resting against his pillows. You take this opportunity to climb into his lap. You straddle his waist momentarily before lowering your upper body flat against him. Your hands are folded against his chest, chin resting against them.

Rafe ignores you, so you take this moment to press a small kiss to his pout. You continue placing quick kisses to Rafe’s lips until he finally breaks out into a smile and kisses you back.

“Do you like Dean more than me?” Rafe asks you abruptly. The room is quiet for a few seconds before the two of you start bursting out laughing.

“Sweetheart, I like Dean, but I love you. You have no reason to be so jealous over a fictional character,” You giggled as you explained. Rafe laughed as well and pressed a sweet to your forehead.

“Hey, what did you tell Sarah?” Rafe asked after a couple minutes. Your eyes grew wide as you shot up from your position on Rafe.

“Oh, shit,” You gasped, turning to the door. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed.

“Yeah. Oh, shit,” Sarah said from her spot in the doorway. The three of you stared at each other in silence for a short moment.

Sarah’s arms were crossed over her chest, and her face held a deep scowl. She was the first to speak up.

“I can’t believe you ditched me for my jealous brother,” Sarah groaned. You furrowed your brows.

“How did you know-“ You started to ask.

Sarah scoffed, “I have a thing for older brothers.” She was mocking you about your earlier comment. “Plus, you’re over all the time. Even when I’m not home. Also, me and John B caught you guys that one time,” Sarah spoke nonchalantly. Your eyes widened more in horror.

“Not the beach,” You begged to some higher power that it wasn’t the beach day. You and Rafe had gotten a little carried away in his car one day. Not long after the two of you had exited the car, Sarah and John B showed up. You thought you were in the clear but apparently not.

“Unfortunately, it was the beach,” Sarah shuddered at the memory. She had her suspicions before then, but that day had confirmed it for her.

Embarrassed, you had plopped back down onto Rafe’s bed. You buried yourself into his side, trying to hide. His body shook with laughter, and you smacked him. Sarah laughed at your reaction.

“Sarah, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hide it from you, but I didn’t know how you’d react,” you explained. Sarah shrugged it off.

“He’s been way nicer to me and Wheeze lately, so I guess it’s fine,” she huffed playfully. You smiled and stood up to hug her. Rafe groaned as you left his side, causing Sarah to stick her tongue out at him.

“Wait, does this mean we can’t drool over Sam and Dean anymore?” Sarah whined. It had been her favorite hobby lately, watching Supernatural with you.

“Oh, absolutely not! I’m actually having withdrawals from my favorite boyfriend right now,” You spoke seriously. You grabbed Sarah’s arm and started dragging her back downstairs to finish your marathon.

“What?” Rafe exclaimed, jumping up from his bed.

“I’m just kidding!” You yelled over your shoulder, halfway down the stairs.

“I’m not kidding,” you whispered to Sarah.

“I heard that!” Rafe yelled from the top of the stairs. You and Sarah laughed at his feigned anguish before plopping back onto the couches and continuing your show.

[crvptidgf]

this should be illegal

HELLO???😭😭😭

[crvptidgf]

i feel like these just keep getting better and better

𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪. rafe cameron + his afrolatina! gf 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

— based on this ask right here ✧

[crvptidgf]

Pogue Gone Rogue • pt. II

Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader

➸ summary: following a nasty divorce with Big John, your mother moved you to Figure 8, separating you from your step-brother and his group of misfits. 5 years later you’ve integrated into the kook life, but what happens when your estranged brother tries to bring you back to the pogue ways?

➸ warnings/notes: best friend’s brother trope, rafe isn’t crazy in this (sort of), heavy daddy issues from both reader and rafe, secret relationship, some strays from canon, eventual smut (18+)

word count: 2.6k

previous part

————————

IT TOOK YOU a while to clean yourself when you got home that night. The salt from the seawater stuck to your hair and you had to hop in the shower to rinse yourself off.

You couldn’t believe that your dad has been missing for several months and you were just finding out about it now.

Did your mom know? Did Ward? You knew they had been friends at some point - maybe that’s why he was so adamant on you having a key to the house. Were you really the last one to be told out about this?

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you decided to go to bed and deal with the rest tomorrow.

The next day was eerily quiet. Sarah wasn’t in bed next to you like she usually was, and the house seemed empty from what you could tell. You figured she went to see Topper after what happened last night.

Picking your phone up from your nightstand, you ventured downstairs to get breakfast.

“Morning sunshine,” came Rafe’s voice from the kitchen. You thought to you were home alone, but the fact that you weren’t brought a sense of comfort. In all honesty you didn’t want to be alone right now.

Plopping down onto the stool at the island, you rubbed at your temple. Today felt strange for many reasons.

“Where is everyone?”

Rafe poured a cup of coffee for himself before grabbing another mug and doing the same to that one.

“Wheezie is at school, Ward and Rose went off to some meeting and Sarah-“ Rafe stopped to slide the drink to you, “is God knows where.”

You nodded. As you said before, she was most likely at Topper’s. Ward always had meetings early in the mornings, and Rose would join just to chat with the housewives and influence their opinions and ideas. That was something that you learned from Rafe - if the housewives could vouch for Cameron Development to their husbands then it was all the better for the company.

The coffee was bitter and strong, just how Rafe liked it. You winced at the taste and set the cup back down.

“What did you say to Topper last night?” you asked. He looked pretty angry when you saw him on the beach, remembering how he was hoisting your friend’s boyfriend up by the shirt.

Rafe shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that he won’t do it again.”

Another beat of silence fell between you two.

It was Rafe’s turn to ask a question. “What did John B say to you?”

You were expecting him to ask you about it, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise. Sarah was the only one who really knew about your family before you moved to Figure 8 - the only one who knew how much of a sensitive topic it was for you.

A humorless laugh left your lips as you responded. “My dad has disappeared and as always, I’m the last to find out.”

He didn’t know it, but you were referring to the divorce. When your parents split everybody knew it was happening before you did. You only realized when your mom began to pack her bags to leave. She gave you a kiss on the cheek and a quick goodbye before leaving. You were 14.

“Disappeared?” Rafe asked cautiously.

“Yep. Gone, missing, whatever you wanna call it.”

Sad was not a word you would use to describe what you were feeling. Especially not when you remember how he spoke to you when your mom left you in his care while she figured herself out back on Figure 8. She wanted to stabilize her career before moving you in with her, and Big John took all his anger with her out on you.

So, sad was not what you were, but seeing the look Rafe gave you reminded you that maybe you should be.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m fine. I’m honestly just pissed.”

With an understanding nod, he left the room to let you cook yourself some food. You didn’t know it but he was already imagining how he’d rip into your brother the next time he saw him.

SARAH DIDN’T GET back home until way later that day. You and Rafe didn’t discuss what happened at the party since the morning - especially avoiding the weird moment that you two had.

He usually liked to stay out of Pogue business. Even though the fight happened at a Kook party and Topper initiated it, he still found himself not caring too much about it.

“What’s gotten into you?” you asked Sarah as you scrolled through your phone on her bed.

For the past few minutes she had been trying to convince you to text your brother, but to no avail. You had no idea why she was suddenly vouching so hard for him considering she was the one who was against John B working on her dad’s boat.

“You went from calling him every name under the sun to wanting me to talk to him?”

Sarah shrugged, her eyes cast down to her fingernails. You wondered what happened at Topper’s to make her act like such a devil’s advocate. John B wasn’t there for you when it mattered - Sarah was. And she knew that, so where did the sudden change of heart come from?

It felt like each day only caused more and more questions to form as Sarah adamantly tried to get you to hear your brother's side of the story.

Tonight she was out again. She was acting weird but you chalked it up to her having a strain on the relationship with Topper ever since the beach. Maybe she felt bad for John B. Her boyfriend did almost drown the guy. Hopefully she was at his house talking it out now so that she could go back to normal.

That was not the case, however.

You were walking outside to grab Sarah’s bike, hoping to go for a ride to clear your head. Instead you saw Topper and Rafe in the driveway. While you didn’t catch all of what was happening, you heard an angry tone.

“What, are you spying on her?” spat Rafe.

Forgetting about your relaxing bike ride you walked up further to see what was happening. “Topper?” you asked, confused on why he was here and not with Sarah. “Where’s Sarah?”

Topper glanced at you before turning to get back in the car. “That’s what I’m tryna figure out.” And with that, he was gone.

“Fucking prick,” Rafe cursed as he rubbed his hand over his face. Rafe and Topper never really got along but you felt like the comment came out of nowhere. Deciding that you didn’t care enough to ask, you returned to your mission of getting the bike.

What you did care about was Sarah’s whereabouts. If her boyfriend didn’t know where she was then who did? She didn’t even tell you - her best friend.

“If you’re looking for the bike, Sarah took it.”

You stopped in your tracks. So she went somewhere far enough that she needed to cycle. Where could she have possibly gone? Everything was so confusing right now.

A sigh escaped your lips.

“Come swim with me?” you asked silently.

Rafe pretended to think about it, but ultimately he followed you into the house to walk into the backyard. It was warm and the summer sun was setting, the pink and orange hues reflecting on the pool water.

This wasn’t the first time you swam here but after the night at the beach with Rafe, you felt slightly unconscious under his gaze. The act of getting undressed in front of him held a new meaning now.

“Don’t be so tense. I’m not gonna pounce on you,” Rafe joked when he sensed your hesitation to take your shirt off.

He began to dip into the water. It took everything in him to not look behind and watch you pull the cloth from your body. Not even a moment later you joined him, the water rippling as you settled next to him.

You tilted your head up to watch the sunset. “She didn’t tell me where she went,” you mumbled.

Water dripped from Rafe’s hand as he ran it through his hair. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he said. “But I know that she always does this shit.”

Their sibling rivalry was something you didn’t understand too much. From Sarah’s perspective Rafe was impulsive and hotheaded, his constant overprotective nature being something she hated. That was why she was the favorite according to her.

“Yeah, but not like this. You know she told me I should call John B?” you scoffed as you sifted your hands through the blue-toned liquid.

“I don’t know why that’s bad, besides the fact that it’s John B.”

Slapping his shoulder playfully, you left his side to stroke across the pool to the other side. Rafe followed.

If you weren’t so frustrated you probably wouldn’t have even considered telling him. Or if Sarah was here to complain to. “My step-dad wasn’t the best. John B was always the favorite since I wasn’t technically his ‘real’ kid. And I just-“ you scratched at your forehead, feeling awkward even voicing this out loud to Rafe. “He’s just never stood up for me. That’s all I’ll say.”

Rafe hummed.

“So he’s the golden child? I know what that’s like.” He said it with such disdain in his voice that you opted against asking him to elaborate.

“Yeah, I guess. Maybe I should just give him a chance. I got a new number so I can’t exactly call him but I might go down to the Chateau tomorrow,” you were mostly thinking out-loud to yourself, not even paying any attention to Rafe beside you.

“On your own?” Rafe almost laughed. “Forget it. I’ll drive you.”

You were about to object before you realized that you kind of liked the idea of someone being there with you. It made the thought of dealing with your ex friends a little less daunting. But you liked fucking with the guy. So, instead of agreeing you decided to tease him.

“We’ll see.”

Rafe’s eyebrow inched upwards. “I wasn’t asking. I’m coming.” He was now swimming closer to you, his face flushed and wet.

“You think I’m gonna let those grubby Pogues get their hands on you? Or what happens if JJ pulls out his gun again?”

Your heart beat a little faster upon noticing how Rafe was advancing towards you. Without even noticing you were slowly walking backwards. “And what are you gonna do if he does?” you asked sarcastically. Realistically nobody would stand a chance against JJ with a firearm, not even Rafe.

“I’ll show him my gun,” he muttered, his head tilted down to look at your shorter stature. Well, everybody was short to him.

Eventually your back came into contact with the wall of the pool. If it came as no surprise that Maybank had a weapon, it definitely wasn’t a shock that Rafe did too. It was Rafe - you’d be concerned if he didn’t.

“Wow,” you mused jokingly, “my knight in shining armor.”

Rafe placed his hand on the edge of the wall behind you, his signature smirk playing on his features. “You don’t need one. Your crazy ass ran towards an attempted homicide situation,” he said while leaning down to reach your eye level. “Y’know most people would run the other way, princess.”

You knew he was only trying to rile you up and make you feel stupid. “I’m not most people.”

His eyes softened. “You really aren’t,” he added sincerely.

Rafe was almost chest to chest with you. It was like you could feel like the heart beats against his ribcage with his proximity. Any small movement would cause you to press up against him, and you fought with everything in you to not do it.

His face was still parallel to yours, his breath fanning across your face. The subtle smell of tobacco could be smelled and, normally you would hate it, but on Rafe it was intoxicating.

Eyes flitting to your lips, he quickly caught himself and looked back up at you.

“Tell me not to,” he said suddenly.

Rafe always thought you were pretty. Even through his weird fixation on your past as a Pogue, he felt a pull to you, one that he had never had with anyone before. He liked your playful relationship, and the fact that you never treated him as less than Sarah like everybody else did. You saw him for who he was on the outside and not for what he did in the past.

Despite his dad warning Rafe to stay away from you, and his understanding that you were John B’s sister, he could never tear his eyes away from.

He shuddered when he felt you grab his hand, dragging it to lay on your waist. “You know I won’t,” you whispered.

Rafe thought he was dreaming. Someone so perfect and kind like you deserved better than him. But he was too selfish to worry about that right now. All he wanted - all he needed was to feel your lips. If he didn’t he might as well have just passed out right then and there.

In a moment of weakness and lack of logic, he dipped down and captured you in a kiss.

If you weren’t leaning against a surface you probably would’ve fell backwards with the force that you were met with. Was he really this excited to kiss you?

“Always thought you were just a flirt,” you said against his lips, your hands roaming up his biceps to grab at any piece of skin that you could.

Your leg was hoisted up around his hip as he pushed you harder against the wall, his lips continuing to meet yours with such an intense fury that you were genuinely astonished. “Only with you,” Rafe said breathlessly.

A satisfied hum left your mouth as you felt a pair of lips begin to trail downwards. Every single centimeter of skin was being licked, bitten, sucked, kissed - you name it. Rafe was making up for lost time with how he ventured across your neck and chest, having no remorse in leaving marks behind.

“Rafe,” you groaned. “How am I gonna cover those up?”

“I don’t care, but if you keep saying my name like that you’re gonna have a lot more to hide.”

He knew it shouldn’t have felt so right. But it did; and it scared the hell out of him. You on the other hand were trying to ignore the fact that Sarah would have a field day chewing Rafe out about this.

Shit. Sarah.

You ran your hands through Rafe’s hair, slightly tugging. “Rafe,” you called, trying to get him out of his daze.

Suddenly you felt cold at the absence of him. Yet the sight that you were met with when he picked his head up was worth it. His lips were pink and swollen, and his hair was messy from your fingers carding through it. He was quite the vision.

In between pants, you tried to get out the words. “We should-“

You quickly stopped upon hearing two hushed whispers in the distance. It sounded like a female voice, one you recognized quite well. Rafe stepped away from you. Trying to keep quiet, you both looked around for any sign of who it could be - but when the front door opened and you looked through the house to see, you almost gasped.

There, stood in the lightly illuminated hallway was Sarah, your brother’s hand in hers as she seemingly shushed him. She looked around before dragging him deeper into the house.

What the fuck was John B doing here?

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

[crvptidgf]

.ೃ࿐ gilbert blythe*ೃ༄

*+:｡.｡ 𓆩♡𓆪 indicates explicit content

- - - 𓆩✩𓆪 - - -

✧ 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 || one-shot

[crvptidgf]

A Night To Remember

Gilbert Blythe x Reader

➸ summary: as the daughter of a renowned lawyer in Avonlea, you are invited to this season's debutante ball. little do you know, you're about to meet the man who will steal your heart

➸ warnings/notes: probably some historical inaccuracy, stereotypes of the role of men and women (it’s the 19th century, c’mon), strays from canon, all characters are over the age of 18

A/N: can you tell i've been watching bridgerton?

word count: 1.9k

————————

YOU WERE NEVER one for rumors. Ever since you left school and were given the opportunity to study at a university you had decided to stay far away from that type of lifestyle. You saw how gossip ruined many girls and destroyed several friendships - and you refused to fall into that trap.

Not to mention the fact that your family was well respected by the ton, and their youngest eligible daughter parading around with false stories would not bode well.

So, when whispers of a supposed ‘debutante ball’ were circling around the girl's dormitories, you paid them no mind. Certain families had a guarantee to be invited to one of these events, while others had to work their own way in. If there was to be a ball you would've already known by now.

Arriving back to your chambers, you were happy to see that your roommate was still in her classes. She was a nice girl, but too chatty for your liking.

You were so occupied by your thoughts that you almost missed the pristine envelope that sat at the foot of your bed, the purple wax shining in the sunlight. It was your father's emblem. Either somebody died or you were about to get some amazing news. Grabbing your letter opener, you sat on the soft sheets as you analyzed the contents of the page. It read:

To my dearest,

As you may now know, this season's Debutante Ball is to be set in the Halloway Estate come dawn tomorrow night. Your father and I decided it best to wait as we know you wish to complete your studies, but as the time is nearing quite quickly we had no other choice but to exempt you from classes for the time being. The carriage will await you at noon.

With warmest regards, your loving mama.

Groaning, you crumpled the paper in your hands and threw it onto your pillow. You were never interested in the social aspect of high society. Important dinners, town fairs, and theatre visits were a common occurrence in your childhood. All of which greatly impeded your learning, and you hated it.

Ultimately you knew you had no choice. Deciding to make the best of it, you began to collect your things. There was never a point in arguing with your parents, especially since they had already sent someone to come get you.

You just hoped the ball would pass quickly.

YOUR PREVIOUS WISHFUL thinking unfortunately did not work out. After being pampered for what felt like hours, and revised on proper etiquette and rules, you already wanted to go back home.

The frilly dress you wore was beautiful, but uncomfortable. Your maids made sure no lace was loose and that all the fine whale bone in your corset was tucked perfectly against your torso. It was a physical embodiment of your imprisonment in this little social charade your parents wanted you to play.

Introductions went by as quickly as they came, and your parents accompanied you side by side as you trailed down the grand staircase.

While every other girl was back on campus studying for exams, you were here frollocking about. How would dancing and mingling help your education? You pushed back a sigh and twisted the edge of the ring on your finger. It was a purity ring that was handed down to you by your mother, something she had held in her family for generations.

“Now, now, dearest,” said your mama as she interlinked her arm with yours. “No need to fret. You remember your dancing lessons?”

You simply nodded. With your curls bouncing around and your perfect dress feathering across the floor you felt like a porcelain doll. It was like you had been dressed up solely for the purpose of being looked at. Which, in fairness, was quite the case.

Throughout the night various men came to ask for permission to dance. Some were accepted, and some declined, much to your pleasure.

Eventually your father ventured off somewhere to talk business and your mother was caught up in conversation with an old friend. It was the perfect opportunity to sneak out for some fresh air. Picking up the hem of your dress you jogged as quick as your heeled sandals would let you.

Cold air hit your face as you were met with the evening sky. You leaned against the marble rail of the balcony, reveling in how nice the breeze felt. It was getting much too stuffy inside. You finally let out the sigh you had been holding in all night.

“The stars are beautiful tonight don’t you think?” said a voice.

Slightly jumping, you turned around to see who it was. There in the pale moonlight stood the most handsome man you had ever seen. Many gentlemen greeted you tonight, but this one had something different about him. Perhaps it was the gentle way he carried himself, his hands tucked behind his back politely - or maybe it was his brown orbs that seemed to pull you in with every second that passed.

“My apologies. I wasn’t aware that anyone was here,” you replied, moving away from the balcony to return inside.

As much as you would’ve wanted to continue the conversation with the attractive man, an unchaperoned lady at night was a guaranteed scandal.

“No need. I was only here for a breath of fresh air.”

He looked at the glass door, eyeing the people in the ballroom. “I could leave if you wish,” he offered.

Shaking your head you continued to make your way back to your parents. Yet when you looked back at him, something in you begged you to stay. Maybe it was just the way your heart soared at the sound of his smooth voice.

You moved away from the door.

“What brings you out here?” you asked as you twiddled with your ring again. It was a nervous habit that you had developed while at school and your mother absolutely hated it.

The man, however, noticed and made a mental note of it in his head. He found it rather cute.

“This sort of thing isn’t really my forté,” the man confessed.

A smile found its way onto your face. The first one you’ve had all night. “Well, Mr…” you paused, looking at him.

“Blythe. Gilbert Blythe.”

“Well, Mr. Gilbert Blythe. As it so happens, it isn’t mine either.”

You both floated back to the edge of the terrace. It overlooked a huge garden that spanned a few acres. While it was gorgeous, it all felt too grand. A small patch of grass with some flowers was infinitely more charming than this overgrown imitation of a forest.

“And what is your forté, Miss -“

“Y/N,” you replied quickly.

Gilbert repeated the name, as if he was getting a feel for it on his tongue. It was quite the lovely name.

The black suit he wore fit him perfectly. His straight-set shoulders were donned with a fine material, his tie sitting delicately against his chest. Whoever he was, he definitely had money. Even the way he styled his hair seemed so prim and proper.

“I’m more of an academic,” you admitted. Most men didn’t like hearing of their bachelorette’s life goals. Many actually preferred that they stayed out of school.

Gilbert hummed, his gaze settling up at the heavens. “We have quite a lot in common then, Miss Y/N.”

You would’ve expected the interaction to be awkward. Instead, you found yourself enjoying the comfortable silence that fell between the two of you. Soon you would have to return to the ball. For now you decided to make the most of it before you had to vacate.

“And what is it that you do, Mr. Blythe?”

Gilbert smiled, his eyes squinting. How he wasn’t already spoken for, you had no idea. “Please, just Gilbert. Mr. Blythe ages me.”

“I’m a doctor,” he finished after a moment.

A doctor. Usually medical practitioners were old and reserved. Well, at least the ones you had been to. You never thought they could be so… easy on the eyes.

You hummed in response. “Are you in university, just Gilbert?”

Another smile. Dimples graced his cheeks perfectly and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve reached over to smooth them out. “I am. And you?”

The wind picked up slightly, ruffling your hair. “I am. I’m studying law - I hope to take over my father’s business one day.”

You knew you were sharing too much. It was just too easy with Gilbert, he had a certain relaxing aura about him. Your parents would love him too. The thought made you giddy.

With his eyebrows raised, he turned to you. “A lawyer, huh?”

Nodding, you let your eyes meet his. In the quiet of the night, you realized that brown was quickly becoming your favorite color. Brown like his eyes, or like the chocolate locks that sat so prettily atop his head.

“You must be a very smart woman to get into law school.”

“And you must be a very smart man to get into medical school,” you mocked back. He merely shook his head in response, letting his lips form into yet another breathtaking grin.

“I'm compelled to ask. Why are you outside and not in there dancing? Any gentleman would be lucky to have such a graceful, intelligent woman on his arm.”

The comment made you blush and you turned your head away from him. After this brief interaction you realized that the only man you wished to dance with tonight was Gilbert. Nobody else could stand a chance anymore - not that they ever did.

In a rush of confidence you replied. “Perhaps I don’t have the right men asking me.”

With a grin on his face, Gilbert held out his palm. His hands looked so inviting. You wondered how they would feel against your own, smaller hands.

“Well then, may I have this dance?”

Placing your fingers against his, you let the warmth spread across your body. He felt more perfect than you could’ve imagined. You let him lead you back to the ballroom, the shiny ground causing your shoes to clack against it. This was perhaps the first and only dance that you would actually enjoy at this event.

Gilbert’s hands felt light and pleasant on your waist. And there was something so tender about the way he spun you around.

He was like no other man you had ever danced with.

His feet were perfectly in sync with yours as he lead you across the floor. Warm eyes were concentrated on your face, never once leaving your penetrating stare. It felt more intimate than anything you had experienced to date. Your hands cupped his own as he sped the dance up, his twirls and dips causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

That night you felt like a princess in his arms.

When the music died down, he hesitantly dropped the grip on your waist. Lifting up your ringed hand to his lips, he placed a feather-like kiss onto it, honey colored orbs fixated on you.

“I hope we can do this again, Miss Y/N.”

Your skin buzzed in the absence of his touch, and you felt the area where he had left his mark. A kiss so gentle that you would dream about it for many nights to come.

You only hoped your father was in contact with somebody who knew Gilbert Blythe - because after tonight, you weren’t so sure you could see any man the same ever again.

[crvptidgf]

"he can do no wrong" well actually i think he did a lot of wrong things, and that's specifically what attracted me to him in the first place

[crvptidgf]

Do you still write for gilbert?

(Anne with a e)

there hasn’t really been much demand for it in a while so i stopped. although if anyone was interested i could definitely start up again!

so to answer your question: i will if people request it.