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ghostofwriting · 7 days ago

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Amazing as always. I read the ending in the voice hahaha

Love Island: Episode 9 - Imperfect for You

pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: cuss words, sexual innuendos

words: 5.7k

series masterlist

The moon hangs heavy over the villa, draping the yard in a silver glow that feels too quiet, too still, compared to the muffled laughter and clinking glasses drifting up from downstairs. Y/N doesn’t move. Her hand rests on the door handle like letting go of it would make everything real.

“I…I didn’t think you’d actually come.” He says, voice low, caught somewhere between relief and disbelief. She swallows, eyes flicking away.

“Me neither.”

A silence sits between them for a beat too long. Then he gestures softly toward the couch. No pressure, just hope. She walks in slowly, almost cautiously, smoothing the fabric of her jeans as she sits down beside him, though not too close. Her body is angled slightly away.

“You wanted to talk.” She says, staring down at her hands. “So…talk.”

He hesitates, his breath shaky.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Maybe the part where you lied to me?” She glances up at him, sharp now. He nods, as if the hit is deserved.

“Right. Fair.” There’s another pause, heavier this time and when he speaks again, his voice trembles just enough to show the crack beneath it. “I didn’t tell you about my last relationship because…I thought if you knew, you’d look at me the way I look at myself. And I already hate myself enough for what I did. I’ve gone to therapy, I had multiple conversations, apologies that probably didn’t fix anything but I still said them. I mean…I even apologized to her mom. I’m not proud of who I was. But I’ve tried to change. I have changed.”

She doesn’t answer right away. She just stares at him like she’s searching for the lie in his eyes.

“You could’ve told me.” She finally says, her voice sharp with emotion. “Maybe we could’ve saved ourselves from all of this.”

“I know.” He replies, voice raw. “I was a coward. And the other night, I was a massive dick to you. You were trying to help and I blew up. That’s on me. Every second of it.”

He leans forward slightly, eyes locking on hers with a sincerity he rarely lets show.

“I like you, Y/N. So much it scares the hell out of me. And I will fix this. I’ll fix all of it. If you let me.”

Her gaze doesn’t waver.

“How do I know this isn’t just love-bombing?” She asks quietly. “How do I know you’re not just saying all the right things because you think that’s what I need to hear?”

His face falls and for a moment, he just stares at her, unsure if he should be hurt or if he deserves it.

“Y/N-” “No.” Her voice cuts through his like a knife.

“I can’t sit here and listen to the same lines I’ve heard a hundred times. ‘I’ve changed.’ ‘It won’t happen again.’ Spare me.”

His jaw tightens. The words sting more than he expects.

“I’m not like him!” The words come out louder than he means and her face shifts, just slightly, but enough.

“Him?” Her voice is smaller now. Unsure. He runs a hand over his face, like he’s trying to wipe the moment away.

“Kelce told me. About your ex.” He says it carefully, almost like he doesn’t want to say it at all. “What he did.”

Her body tenses. She looks away, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on nothing.

“That’s not your business.”

“It is.” He softens. “Because it’s still in the room with us. Even when you pretend it’s not.”

“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me right now.” She exhales loudly.

“I’m not. But you call me out for not being honest with you and I get that. I do. But you haven’t been either.”

“You didn’t ask.” She snaps. The words are quick, like armor.

“I didn’t want to push.” He pauses. “But I’m not gonna pretend like it doesn’t matter. You were hurt. And whether you like it or not, that matters to me.”

She stands abruptly and for a second, he thinks she’s going to walk out. But he reaches out, catching her hand. Not to stop her, just to hold something steady.

“I’m not like him.” He says again, quieter this time. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what happened to you. For how it’s still with you. And I’m sorry if I brought even an ounce of that back. You didn’t deserve that. Not then. Not now.”

She doesn’t speak. Her breath trembles and when her eyes meet his, there’s a storm building behind them.

“I’m not asking you to forget it.” He adds. “And I’m not asking you to forgive me. But I know what we have, whatever it is, it’s real. I feel it. I know it.”

He lets go of her hand.

“If even a part of you feels it too…just give me a chance. One more. I’ll spend every day showing you, proving to you that I’m not him.”

She stares at him, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“I’m not going to apologize for not telling you.” She says quietly. Rafe nods without hesitation.

“You don’t have to. I get it. You didn’t owe me an explanation. That’s fair.”

“But I am sorry…for pressuring you to open up.” She glances down, her voice softer. He shakes his head.

“You don’t need to apologize for that either. This was gonna be a thing sooner or later. I’m just glad it happened now, early enough that I might still have a shot at earning your trust back.” He exclaims. She nods slowly, but her expression stays guarded.

“It’s going to take more than this conversation.”

He nods right back.

“I know. I’ll do whatever it takes. You want me to beg? I’ll beg.” He suggests and her mouth lifts into a smirk.

“A little groveling wouldn’t hurt.”

Without missing a beat, Rafe slides off the couch onto his knees, taking her arms gently.

“Y/N-” “Oh my god, get up!” She says, half-laughing as she pulls him back up. He grins, now standing in front of her, his eyes flicking between hers and her lips. She mirrors the movement without meaning to.

“I’m gonna need time.” She says quietly. “To move past this. To trust you again.”

A beat.

“Though…a kiss like the one downstairs might help.”

He smirks and steps in, hands landing softly on her waist.

“Yeah?” He murmurs. “You mean the ‘10 out of 10’ kiss?”

She groans, pulling back and rolling her eyes. Rafe laughs and tugs her back toward him.

“You’re insufferable.” She mutters.

“You’re gonna have to deal with it, sweetheart.”

Her heart flutters at the pet name, but she tries to play it off. He keeps going, eyes glinting.

“And let’s be real, I’m gonna remind you about that kiss for a long time. Didn’t you call it-what was it? ‘The most amazing kiss of your life’?”

“I never said that.” She insists, shaking her head.

“That’s what I recall.” He teases.

“Are you trying to gaslight me right now? I never said that.”

“No?” He leans in with a smirk. “Hmm. Must’ve been the wind.”

She laughs despite herself, fingers weaving behind his neck.

“This is so wrong.” She murmurs. His brows furrow in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just…kind of toxic, isn’t it? We barely talk things through and then end up right back to our usual horny selves. Like, nothing happened.” She replies.

“Wait, are you horny right now?” He asks with faux innocence.

“Rafe!” She gasps, laughing as she swats his chest. “I’m being serious.”

“Okay, okay. I get what you’re saying.” He pauses, then shrugs. “But why is it wrong? We’re figuring it out. Following our hearts…or whatever Taylor Swift lyric fits here.” He tries not to sound as corny and she snorts.

“She hasn't said anything like that. Just...I don’t want to get into stupid fights with you just to end up making out a few minutes later.”

“So…we are going to make out?” He asks, one hand coming up to cup her cheek.

“Oh my god, do you hear anything I’m saying that isn’t about kissing?” She stares up at him in disbelief.

“I do. I swear I do. But you’re just really pretty. It's distracting.”

She blushes and hits his chest again, though this time she leans in.

“I hate you.” She mumbles.

“No, you don’t.” He whispers, smiling as their foreheads meet. “Can I?”

She nods just as he closes the distance. Soft, slow, but with purpose. His mouth finds hers without hesitation and this kiss is different. It’s full of emotion, but also something darker, possessive, desperate, aching.

It’s gentler than before, but hot enough to make her forget everything else. Forget the kiss with Ryan. The one she shamefully leaned into. The one that had rage flashing behind Rafe’s eyes and a muscle ticking in his jaw.

Now, his hands grip her waist tighter, pulling her against him like he needs her there. Like she’s the only thing grounding him. She gasps softly into his mouth and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

His voice drops an octave, low and raspy against her lips. “So…are you getting turned on?” He asks and she giggles, breathless, eyes flicking up to his with flushed cheeks.

“Honestly? Shut up.”

But her mouth crashes back into his before the last word even finishes. This kiss is hotter. Hungrier. His hands slide down her back, then lower, cupping her ass and pulling her harder against him. She moans softly and he groans into her mouth like it’s driving him insane.

When they finally come up for air, her fingers are tangled in the chain around his neck, her thoughts spinning.

“You good?” He murmurs, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear with a tenderness that almost undoes her.

‘Yeah.” She nods. “Because we’re gonna be fine.” She exclaims. His lips twitch into a smile before he leans in and presses a soft, final kiss to her lips.

“We should…probably head downstairs.” He says, though he doesn’t move an inch. She turns toward the door, but Rafe stays put, exhaling hard through his nose.

“Just…give me a second.” He mutters, nodding down toward his pants, where the fabric is visibly strained. “He needs to chill.”

“I’m sorry.” She chokes on a laugh, hand flying to her mouth. “He?”

Rafe looks away, clearly flustered, trying to will his body into cooperation.

“George.”He mutters, with that smug little grin.

“George?” She raises her brows.

“You know…curious George.” He explains, scratching the back of his neck and she chuckles again.

“Oh, I’m absolutely telling the girls.”

“No. Y/N, wait-”

But she’s already slipped through the door, laughter trailing behind her.

“Fuck me.” He groans, chasing after her, catching up just before she reaches the stairs.

“Please, sweetheart.” He says, voice dropping into that low, sweet tone that usually makes her knees weak. She smirks over her shoulder.

“You said you’d make it up to me any way I wanted.” She recalls, with wide eyes and pink swollen lips.

“Fine.” He exhales, jaw tense “Go. Just…I seriously need a minute.”

She kisses his cheek, laughing softly.

“I said go.” He calls after her with a grin, adjusting himself with a wince.

“Sorry!” She shouts from halfway down the stairs. “Sorry George!”

His laugh follows her, thick with amusement and frustration.

The night winds down as the girls gather upstairs in the makeup room, wiping off their glam and slipping into cozy pajamas. Laughter bubbles up as they rehash the challenge.

“Maddy, you got the best one!” Alyssa teases, referring to Kelce’s win. The girls laugh as Maddy pulls on one of his hoodies.

“Guess I’m lucky.” She says with a shrug and a small smile.

“Anything exciting happen tonight?” Cleo asks, dragging a makeup wipe across her face. Sarah lifts a brow at Y/N, who meets her gaze for a second. Y/N gives a subtle shake of her head before turning back to the group.

“Y/N…” Kiara says, looking at her. “You and Ryan were talking before the challenge, right?”

Y/N exhales quietly, grateful they hadn’t caught the moment between her and Rafe. No one’s brought it up, yet.

“Yeah.” She gulps. “He pulled me for a quick chat. He was really sweet, honestly.”

“How are you feeling about him?” Cleo asks, eyes curious. “I mean…you did give him a ten.”

Y/N lets out a small laugh.

“Okay, to be fair, I didn’t even know that was him when I rated him. But yeah, I told him I want to get to know him. And the kiss didn’t hurt, that’s for sure.”

“What about Rafe?” Abigail chimes in, focused on braiding her hair. Y/N’s smile fades a bit. She glances at Sarah before answering.

“It’s still… complicated.” She replies, her voice softer now. The room quiets for a moment.

“Take your time with it.” Maddy offers gently.

“Honestly, Ryan’s a way better option anyway.” Kiara adds, applying lip balm with a casual shrug.

Y/N doesn’t say anything. She just sits at her vanity, staring at her reflection in the mirror, silently nodding as the buzz of conversation moves on around her.

Downstairs, the boys are in full post-challenge mode. Shirts coming off and banter flying.

“So…Ryan.” Topper says, tossing his button-up aside as he eyes him with a pointed look. “Enjoy tonight’s challenge?”

“Didn’t we all?” Ryan replies with a light scoff, earning a few nods and chuckles from the others.

Topper glances over his shoulder toward Rafe, who’s folding clothes in silence, clearly uninterested in the conversation.

“Just asking.” Topper continues, tone more loaded now. “You did get a solid ‘10’ out there.”

That grabs Rafe’s attention. He shuts the closet door a little harder than necessary and makes his way back to his bed without a word.

“It was…nice.” Ryan admits, a small grin creeping in as he thinks back to the kiss.

“The kiss or the rating?” JJ asks, half-curious, half-confused.

“Uh, both, I guess.” Ryan scratches the back of his neck and grabs a t-shirt to throw on. Topper leans back, watching Rafe again.

“She’s a pretty little thing, huh, Ryan?”

Rafe shakes his head subtly, trying to signal Topper to drop it.

“Yeah, for sure.” Ryan replies casually. Rafe picks up his phone, suddenly very interested in whatever’s on the screen.

“Would you pick her in a recoupling?” Topper pushes, eyes flicking between Ryan and Rafe.

Just as Ryan’s about to answer, the bedroom door swings open. Laughter fills the room.

“I’m serious, Sar!” Y/N’s voice rings out as she enters, wearing Rafe’s hoodie which is oversized on her, paired with boxer shorts. He looks up instantly, a smile breaking across his face.

She walks toward their bed, resting her water bottle on the nightstand as he lifts the blanket for her. The other girls start settling in and the tension in the room visibly eases.

“Neighbor.” Ryan says with a nod toward her as he slides into the bed next to hers.

Y/N nods back politely, adjusting herself under the covers. Rafe watches their exchange carefully. His hand slips beneath the blanket, resting gently on her thigh, giving it a light squeeze.

“I love that hoodie on you.” He murmurs, voice low so only she can hear. She glances over at him, smirking.

“Looks better on me, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, definitely.” He grins, eyes tracing her face as she snuggles into the fabric.

“It still smells like you.” She mumbles, nose wrinkling playfully.

“Is that a good thing?” He teases, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“God, no.” She groans jokingly.

“Oh, really?” He says with mock offense before suddenly launching into a tickle attack, his hands finding her waist. Her laughter breaks through the quiet hum of the room.

“Stop!” She gasps between giggles, trying to wriggle away.

When he finally pulls back, triumphant, she collapses against her pillow, breathless and glowing. Her eyes flicker to his lips for just a second before darting away nervously, checking to make sure no one else noticed.

Right then, the bedroom lights shut off.

“Good night.” She whispers, turning over.

Rafe hesitates, watching her. To him, it almost feels like things are falling back into place. Gently, he wraps an arm around her waist.

“Is…is this okay?” He asks, his voice soft.

She nods slowly, pressing back into him as he spoons her. His hand stays steady on her waist, his breath warm against the back of her neck.

And for now, that’s enough.

Morning sunlight creeps into the villa as the bedroom lights flicker on. Groans echo around the room as the islanders slowly stir to life.

Y/N pulls the duvet over her face, resisting the day with every fiber of her being. Rafe stretches beside her, arm brushing hers before he leans back against the headboard.

Suddenly, a burst of energy enters the scene. Sarah, wide awake and grinning, launches herself from her bed straight onto Y/N.

“Oh my god, Sarah.” Y/N groans, voice muffled by the blankets as Sarah giggles.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” Sarah chirps, wedging herself between Rafe and Y/N like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Rafe just laughs, shaking his head as Y/N’s face peeks out from under the covers, eyes squinting against the bright lights.

“Get up, girl!” Sarah urges, grabbing Y/N’s shoulders and giving her a shake.

“Sarah…”

“Come on. Big day ahead. And I want you to curl my hair like you did yours the other day? It was so cute!” She exclaims. Y/N groans but finally sits up, adjusting Rafe’s hoodie on her shoulders.

“Why are you so energetic right now?” She asks, rubbing her eyes.

“Good sleep? Positive vibes? Who knows.” Sarah shrugs. She hops up and tugs on Y/N’s hand, urging her out of bed.

“You’re literally the most impatient person alive.” Y/N mutters, stretching as she stands. Her hoodie lifts slightly, revealing a flash of skin. Rafe watches, a smirk tugging at his lips. Ryan, from the bed nearby, does too, but more discreetly.

Y/N grabs her water bottle, letting Sarah drag her toward the hallway. The two of them head upstairs, just the two of them, chatting casually as they brush their teeth and wash their faces.

“So…” Sarah starts, drying her face with a fluffy pink towel. “What actually happened last night? You totally skipped over the Rafe part when the girls were asking.”

Y/N spits out her toothpaste and sighs. She dries her face with a towel and walks into the makeup room next door, Sarah close behind her.

“We talked.” She says, settling into her seat. “He explained his side. Said he didn’t mean to hurt me, that he was sorry.”

Sarah listens closely, perching on the edge of the counter.

“And…okay, this is something I haven’t told anyone in here.” Y/N continues. “Before Kelce, I dated this guy. Total douche. Cheated on me. Left me feeling like shit.”

Sarah reaches out instinctively, squeezing her hand. “Y/N…”

“I’m fine now, but…that’s why I reacted the way I did with Rafe. Anyway, Kelce told him and Rafe said he didn’t want me to think of him like my ex.”

Sarah nods, quiet, letting her friend talk.

“He said he was willing to do anything to make it up to me and regain my trust. I told him I need time to think. But also…that the kiss during the challenge was really good. And one thing led to another and…we made out. A little.”

“Oh?” Sarah raises her brows.

“And now I feel like such an idiot.” She pauses, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Why?” Sarah tilts her head, waiting.

“Because I said I needed space, but then I jumped right back into kissing him like nothing happened. It’s like…my brain and my heart just aren’t on the same page.”

Sarah nods, letting her speak.

“And what we have? It’s starting to feel real. Stronger even. But…I’m so confused.”

Sarah reaches out, brushing Y/N’s hand gently.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to figure this out right now. Feeling like this is normal. And I know you’re worried, but Rafe is totally down bad for you. Everyone can see it. I honestly believe he wants to make this work. He’s not just saying things to mess with you or make you feel stupid.”

Y/N looks down, voice softer.

“I didn’t want to say anything in front of the girls. I love them, I really do, but I was scared of being judged for forgiving him so fast. Actually, I was trying to find you last night to tell you first. But then Topper cornered me with some protein powder rant or something.”

Sarah laughs softly.

“You’re the one person I thought would really understand me.” Y/N says, glancing over at her. “You’re my best friend here.”

Sarah’s face softens. She pulls Y/N into a tight hug.

“I love you.” Sarah whispers.

“I love you too, Sar.”

“And for the record.” Sarah says quietly, pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation. If you forgive him, that’s your choice. And if anyone judges you? That’s on them, not you. Period.”

Y/N nods, a small, grateful smile playing on her lips.

“So…” Sarah leans back. “What about Ryan? No pressure, but you said you wanted to get to know him.”

Y/N exhales.

“He’s…different.”

“Different how?”

“He’s softer. Calmer. Compared to Rafe, he feels more…balanced. At least from what I’ve seen so far.”

Sarah watches her, nodding slowly.

“I like where things are going with Rafe and I’m open to giving him another chance.” Y/N says. “But I’m not closing the door on Ryan either. It’s still early.”

Before Sarah can respond, the makeup room door swings open and the rest of the girls pour in, filling the space with chatter and laughter.

Y/N gestures for Sarah to take a seat so she can start on her hair and just like that, the morning rolls on. Chaotic, loud and full of possibilities.

As the girls finish getting ready, a knock sounds at the door, barely catching their attention. It creaks open a moment later and Ryan steps in, one hand covering his eyes, the other holding a glass.

“Is everyone decent?” He calls out, nearly bumping into Maddy, who laughs and steadies him.

“We’re good.” She grins, pulling his hand down from his face.

He blinks, adjusting to the light, eyes scanning the room until they land on Y/N. She’s sitting in front of the mirror, nearly finished with her makeup.

“Hey.” She says, smiling.

“Hi.” He returns the smile, stepping closer. “I made you a smoothie. Strawberries, bananas and blueberries. Hope you’re not allergic or anything.”

Y/N looks up at him, surprised and touched. She stands, wrapping her arms around him in a quick, warm hug.

“Thank you.” She says softly, pulling back to meet his eyes. “That’s really sweet of you.”

He hands her the glass with a small smile.

“No allergies?”

“Nope. Don’t worry.” She shakes her head.

“Oh, good.” He lets out a breath of relief. She takes a sip and her eyes widen.

“Okay, wait-this is actually amazing. Thank you, Ryan.”

He grins, nods once and heads out. The moment the door clicks shut behind him, the room bursts into squeals.

“Told you. The better choice.” Kiara points out again.

Meanwhile, Rafe, Kelce and Topper are mid-set, sweaty and shirtless, but the vibe is easy, until Rafe speaks.

“Y/N and I talked last night.” He says, grabbing a towel and wiping his face. His tone is casual, but the look he shares with Kelce has weight.

“Yeah?” Kelce raises a brow. Rafe nods.

“It wasn’t everything, but…it felt like a start. She said she’s open to forgiving me. Eventually.”

Topper doesn’t miss it. He glances over, unimpressed.

“So not actually forgiven, but you’re getting there?” Topper asks.

“I mean…we kissed.” Rafe says it with a small smirk, but his eyes flicker with hesitation.

“Okay, that’s something.” Kelce replies, leaning against the bench. “How’d it feel?”

Rafe shrugs, then nods slowly.

“Real. She wasn’t trying to shut me down. I didn't pressure her. It was just…her and me. Like before all the bullshit.”

“So why not forgive you already, then?” Topper asks, grabbing a dumbbell. “She kissed you but still left you hoping for her forgiveness?”

“She’s being careful.” Rafe replies. “I don’t blame her. I didn’t exactly make it easy to trust me.”

Topper scoffs.

“I just don’t get it. If she’s still into you, then why all the ‘I need time’ crap? What? Is she keeping you on standby while she explores other options?”

Kelce’s head turns sharply.

“Don’t do that.” He mutters and Topper blinks.

“What?” He asks.

“Don’t talk like she’s playing him. Or like she owes anyone an answer right away.” Kelce says flatly. “You don’t know what she’s feeling.”

Topper lifts both hands in defense.

“Alright, relax. I’m just looking out for Rafe.”

“Cool. Look out for him without throwing Y/N under the bus.” Kelce grabs his water and walks off.

Rafe stays back, running a hand through his hair, somewhere between frustrated and hopeful. Topper watches him for a second longer, then claps a hand on his back.

“Just…keep your head clear, man.” He mutters. “You’ve been through enough already.”

Rafe doesn’t answer. He just stares straight ahead, caught between the weight in his chest and the hope still tugging at it.

The day drifts by in a haze of sunshine and splashes, the islanders lounging by the pool or stretched out under the sun. Kiara catches Pope’s eye and motions for him to join her. They head over to one of the yellow couches, the warmth still radiating off the cushions. She adjusts her sunglasses as she settles in, lips pressing into a line.

“How you feeling today? Having fun?” She asks, casual but kind. Pope leans back, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s been chill. I think we all needed a pool day.”

She nods, agreeing, but her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Listen…” She starts, hesitating. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a few days now.”

Pope squints, shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand. His expression shifts.

“I liked the time we spent together. You’re a great guy. But-”

“I get it.” He cuts in gently, a familiar weariness in his voice. “I’ve had this conversation before. You’re not interested. It’s okay.”

Her face softens, eyes searching his.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” He replies quickly. “I just…wish I knew earlier.”

Kiara fidgets with the corner of a pillow.

“You didn’t waste time, Pope. I really did enjoy getting to know you. But we don’t have that…spark. We just don’t click like that.”

“I get it, Kie.” He says, gaze dropping as he looks away.

“You can still meet new people.” She offers quietly. He nods, jaw tight, emotions tugging just beneath the surface.

“Is that all?”

“I’m sorry.” She says.

“Yeah.” He says, standing. “Me too.”

She rises with him, smoothing her bikini bottoms before looking up.

“Can I… give you a hug?”

He doesn’t hesitate, steps forward and pulls her into a hug, brief but sincere. He presses a kiss to her temple and offers a small smile before walking off toward the guys.

Kiara makes her way back to the sunbeds, dropping onto the empty one beside Y/N and Maddy. Both girls peek at her over their sunglasses.

“I think I hurt him.” She says quietly. Y/N sits up slightly.

“What did he say?” She asks.

“That it’s not the first time he’s heard this. And when I apologized, he could barely look at me.” Kiara explains and Maddy sighs.

“He really felt something with you, Kie. That’s why we told you to talk to him sooner.”

“I know.” She murmurs. “But…am I the bad guy here?”

Y/N shakes her head.

“No. Your feelings are valid. But so are his. He liked you and he tried. So did you. You can’t force something that’s not there. But you also can’t expect him not to be hurt.”

“I agree.” Maddy adds, reclining again. Kiara lets out a slow breath and glances over at the kitchen, where JJ is trying to distract Pope with small talk and laughter that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

As the sun sets over the villa, the islanders get ready for another lively night. Cleo lounges on the daybed with a drink in hand, laughing with Maddy and Kelce when Pope walks over.

“Hey.” He says, offering a small smile. The group makes room for him, but then he glances at Cleo. “Actually...I was hoping to talk to Cleo for a second.”

Cleo raises a brow, surprised, but Maddy grins and gives her a playful nudge. With a reluctant smile, Cleo stands and smooths down her dress before following Pope over to one of the couches.

“You look really pretty tonight.” He says, sincere.

“Thanks.” She replies softly.

Pope takes a breath, clearly trying to gather his thoughts.

“Okay, I’m just gonna be upfront and say it. You’re amazing, Cleo. And I was an idiot for not realizing it sooner. And I want to get to know you, if you’re still open to that.”

Cleo studies him, not saying anything at first.

“Pope…” She finally says, her voice calm but guarded, “I’m not interested in being someone’s second choice. You and Kiara just ended things and now you’re here saying all this to me. Can you see how that might not sit right?”

“You’re not a second choice.” He says quickly. “What you said the other night...I felt it too. I just didn’t know how to deal with it then.”

“So how do I know this isn’t just a rebound? How do I know you mean any of this?”

Pope sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I get it. The timing sucks and it probably looks messy. But I’m not making this up. I’m genuinely attracted to you and not just physically. I want to see if there’s more there. I’m not expecting an answer right now, just…think about it?”

Cleo pauses, letting his words settle.

“I want to get to know you too.” She says carefully. “But if this is just your way of getting over Kiara, I need you to be honest now. I’m not signing up to be someone’s distraction.”

“I swear, Cleo, that’s not what this is.” Pope says earnestly. “Just give me a chance?”

Cleo watches him for a long second, then finally gives a small nod.

“Okay.” She says softly. He smiles, visibly relieved.

“Yeah? Okay.”

They sit for a beat, the tension easing slightly, but the air still thick with possibility.

Meanwhile, on the couch beneath the terrace, Rafe and Y/N sit close. Close enough to feel each other’s presence, but not quite touching. Y/N’s eyes scan the villa, landing briefly on each islander.

“You nervous or something?” Rafe asks, his tone casual but observant. His arm slips around her shoulders. She stiffens for a second before letting out a quiet breath.

“Sorry. It’s just…” She hesitates, trying to find the right words. “I haven’t told the girls about us…possibly making up.”

“Okay?” His brow furrows slightly.

“I mean, we talk about everything. And I didn’t want them to judge me for trying to fix things with you. They weren’t exactly Team Rafe after…you know.”

“Yeah. That makes sense.” He says, nodding slowly. Then, more gently. “I…uhh…told Topper and Kelce.”

His fingers trail lightly along her arm, not pushing, just letting her in. She blinks, then nods.

“No, yeah…I get that. I just wasn’t ready. But I will be.”

He nods again, letting it land without pressure.

“Is that why you’ve been kind of distant?” He asks, his voice softer now. There’s a flicker of something in his expression, hurt. “Afraid they’ll see us?”

“I’m sorry.” She says quietly. “Everything just feels messy right now.”

“Don’t apologize.” He says, shaking his head. “Seriously. You’re here. That’s what matters to me.”

She melts a little, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. He immediately darts his head around, pretending to scan for witnesses like a spy. She bursts into laughter.

“Oh! By the way, can I tell you something?” She asks, her voice dipping conspiratorially.

He claps his hands and rubs them together like he’s prepping for drama.

“Spill the tea.”

She chuckles again.

“Last night, during the challenge, when you had headphones on and Alyssa came up to you, she stopped and said ‘I never got my chance with him, sorry, Y/N’ but in this super passive-aggressive, mean girl voice.”

Rafe raises his brows, unsurprised.

“Honestly? Not shocked. You remember how she was when she first got here. I told you I didn’t trust her.” He exclaims.

“I know. It just threw me off because she’s been nice since our talk.” She sighs.

“You’re not seriously thinking about talking to her again, are you?” He asks, suddenly serious.

“I mean…I don’t know. I probably shouldn’t-” “You shouldn’t.” He cuts her off.

“But-” “No buts. You already gave her a second chance. She said she wanted to be your friend and now she’s pulling this? Nah. She’s not genuine.”

“Rafe-”

“You don’t see it or maybe you don’t want to, but she doesn’t care about you. If she did, she wouldn’t keep doing this. Did she even apologize?”

Y/N slowly shakes her head, lips pressing into a tight line.

“Exactly!” Rafe throws his hands up like it proves his point. She lets out a sigh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Okay.” She says, her voice a little steadier now. “I’m not going to bring it up with her. It’s not worth it.”

Rafe nods, firm.

“Good. You shouldn’t let people walk all over you.”

She gives a small nod back.

Suddenly, the sharp clack of heels cuts through the night. The bedroom door swings open and a figure steps out from the corridor of flowers. The villa falls silent as everyone turns to look.

From the beanbag, Sarah gasps.

“Ariana? What are you doing here?”

to be continued...

taglist: @cherrygirlfriend @judesgfirl @slickdickwitchbitchh @leather-n-velvet @alinavalentine @littlelamy @ts1mp0ne @starkeyslibrary @rafecameronsfavourite @rafesbuzzcutseason @lolharrystylesissexy @k4yr14 @drewslefttoe @angielvsnick @malibuhearts @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @harryweeniee @imawhoreforu @fastlovela @jjmaybankmylovee @nemesyaaa @drewsnr1slut @laniirackssss @oconnrs @cornliastreett @pvyden @swagmoneydrew @lerclec @rafecameronxxx @totalswag @xoxosblogsblog @julesbog @st8rkey @lewispool @silkylovey @heartlesslies @akobx @vdotcom @runawayrafetrain @stvrkeysgal @heartzshiftamy @xilatrxvmp @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @maybankslover @cameronsbabydoll @veesgrapejuice

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ghostofwriting · 7 days ago

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TAAAAAYLOOOOOOR

#I’m crying #I love her so much #she owns her life’s work 🩷

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ghostofwriting · 8 days ago

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I’ve had an idea and it has nothing to do with this post or the last one. Heheheh

Rafe x reader smau based on Kloufrens by bad bunny where they’re exes (his baile inolvidable duh) and she adds him and only him to her close friends and tortures him with fake soft launches and sexy pics. That’s the plot

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ghostofwriting · 9 days ago

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#me

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ghostofwriting · 9 days ago

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I want to make a new smau where reader is a blogger and rafe is off socials and her fans start seeing a mystery man in her posts but I don’t have a plot 😔

#how can I execute this #also I have 273838 smaus ongoing #I should probably finish ONE

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ghostofwriting · 11 days ago

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in London: stumbled through the long goodbye (partial smau) p.5

r.c x reader

Summary: She escapes the obx when her boyfriend and her so called best friend betray her in a way she can never forgive. The chronicles of finding your way back to your soulmate, even after years apart...or not.

Uses lyrics from come back be here by Taylor Swift

"But you're in London and I break down cause it's not fair that you're not around"

Four five next

I don't wanna miss you like this

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #outerbanks au #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe Cameron smau #rafe cameron social media au #rafe smau #rafe social media au #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #obx rafe cameron #in London series

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ghostofwriting · 11 days ago

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I love the new In London piece Ghost!! It's soo good! I'm so happy you didn't delete your channel/works <3

Thank you honey 🩷

#asks

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ghostofwriting · 12 days ago

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I like that everyone is making guesses as to what he could have done (which I love because it means the smau has a life of its own) when the written parts are released (except for one) and hold all the answers 🤭

in London: stumbled through the long goodbye (partial smau) p.4

r.c x reader

Uses lyrics from come back be here by Taylor Swift

“But you’re in London and I break down cause it’s not fair that you’re not around”

three four next

note: Rafe's Instagram posts are pre-breakup and yn's are post breakup.

note x 2: for those of you who still pay attention, I decided to update instead of deleting my entire blog!! wooo!!

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ghostofwriting · 12 days ago

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in London: stumbled through the long goodbye (partial smau) p.4

r.c x reader

Uses lyrics from come back be here by Taylor Swift

“But you’re in London and I break down cause it’s not fair that you’re not around”

three four next

note: Rafe's Instagram posts are pre-breakup and yn's are post breakup.

note x 2: for those of you who still pay attention, I decided to update instead of deleting my entire blog!! wooo!!

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #outerbanks au #in london series #rafe cameron obx #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smau #rafe smau #rafe cameron social media au #rafe social media au

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ghostofwriting · 12 days ago

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I already forgot what I was doing for the In London smau 🙃

#me looking at it like: okay so what is going on

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ghostofwriting · 13 days ago

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Your brain and my lips need to meet. This is so good! I look forward to every update, I’m like a little fly whenever you update and by that I mean I’m rubbing my hands together and getting into bed all cozy to read my bedtime story. A true routine for me, a religious experience if you will. Love it so bad.

02 ── TEMPORARY TRUCE ── RAFE CAMERON

── SYNOPSIS you absolutely can't stand your roommate's brother, and Rafe can't not take an opportunity to poke fun at you every chance he gets. but when you both accidentally have a jello shot infused with molly, you decide to have a temporary truce and enjoy the night. ── WARNINGS language, drug usage (molly), fluff, mild violence and mentions of blood. 18+ mdni. ── WORD COUNT 7.9k. ── NOTES please i am not condoning drug use don't take after these idiots for the love of god. ── SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT PART ── SONGS OF THE CHAPTER pyramids by frank ocean and redbone by childish gambino

When you and all your friends arrive to Sarah's favorite club, you feel a little lighter than you did an hour ago.

You started feeling the effects in the cab, as every touch, sight, noise make you a little amped up then normal, a drastic contrast from what you thought you'd feel like. Your skin is burning, but not in a horrid way, in an excited, anticipated way, as you brushed shoulders with Rafe and you both beamed at each other at the contact.

It starkly contrasts how you normally react when he touches you: with the compulsive urge to punch him in the face. You figure that that means the drug is definitely taking effect.

But the club atmosphere only amplifies all of your senses, dialing them to an eleven. The hot, sweaty temperature only seems to cling to your skin like pin prick needles, as the kaleidoscope of lights make your heart soar, making you feel alive and grounded in this very moment under all the colors. Your eyes feel wider, your smile bigger, your heart thumping.

A hand on the small of your back lulls you from your appreciation survey of the room, and you turn your head to look up at Rafe, who's closer than he ever has been before looking prettier than under under the purple and blue and red hues. His hand is searing hot against your body.

"Hey," he shouts over the music, yet his voice feels like it's the only thing you can hear. "You good?"

You think you nod.

Truthfully, you aren't really sure. All you know is that you're smiling because apparently that's the only thing you know how to do on this drug, as you can feel yourself beaming wider than ever before. Plus, the lights keep distracting you on how well they reflect off the features of his face, occasionally glistening the thin chain around his neck.

Rafe seems pleased at your response (or lack thereof), as he hands you something ice cold that makes you furrow your brows, nearly jolting from the contact. Soon, you look down and see you're cradling a plastic cup full of water.

"I told John B a vodka cran," you pout with befuddlement, frowning up at him as if it's his fault.

And it is, because he shakes his head slightly in disbelief at you. "Only water tonight, remember?"

You find yourself rolling your eyes, but the airy smile on your face gives away your indifference as you watch him raise a brow, a knowing one, because he had promised he was going to take care of you tonight, even though you know Sarah and John B are probably tripping, too, and are drinking on top of it.

It's funny, though, (if that's the word you can use) that he's hardly paying attention to the birthday girl, to his sister, using up all his time to watch you, stick with you, care for you instead of her.

Although you push the implication to the back of your mind. You know Sarah's done molly before, so Rafe probably isn't worried since she knows what to expect. Plus, she has John B. And Kiara. And Pope and Cleo. You'd say JJ, but he is objectively the least qualified person on the planet to be trip sitting anyone, let alone an inanimate object. He killed a plastic plant once.

"What about them?" You nod towards your friends at the bar. Rafe lazily follows your gaze as you watch them juggle drinks and mosey onto the dance floor in a make-shift conga-line. "They're drinking. What if I feel left out?"

He turns back to you with a knowing look. A warning.

You nearly shrink under it, absolutely knowing that you're contradicting yourself from the bundle of nerves you were emulating merely an hour ago. But you can't help but feel a little out of the loop, despite the concerns you had about accidentally ingesting an ungodly amount of the drug a little while earlier. Your friends can handle doing both, so why can't you? Why won't he let you? What obligation is he under to micromanage your beverage intake?

Normally, you'd be so infuriated to fumble under one pointed glance from him, but right now you can't find yourself caring, and bring the water cup up to your lips for a small sip, seceding.

Rafe seems pleased with how he can get you to fall back into line without even having to say anything.

"Good girl, Star," he says low.

Curse the lightness in your chest for responding to that with a sheepish smile, instead of your trademark scowl or eye roll.

"Whatever," you mumble, trying to maintain your stoic dignity but only making things worse when all you can do is fucking grin, and you know he is absolutely relishing in your rare portrayal of sweetness. "You take this. I wanna dance."

"One more sip."

"Rafe-"

"A big one. C'mon, one more than you can go."

You narrow your eyes. "Only if you have some, too."

Rafe rolls his eyes, but there's no malice to them. Instead, they twinkle with amusement. "Alright, if that's what you want."

"That's what I said."

"Okay, so drink."

And you do. You take a few small sips, and you can't help but sigh at how refreshing it is, especially given how hot it is in the club and how nice it feels going down your throat, almost grounding you. Taking a big inhale through your nose, the airy chill of the ice stings your nostrils. You manage to take one more small sip, but you nearly cough it up when you realize he's been staring at you the whole time.

He's taking this whole protector bullshit thing a little too serious. Although you blame the fact that Sarah would kill him into next week if he appointed himself the role of trip sitting you but let something happen.

Generously, you hand over the half-full cup to him, who takes it gingerly from you and downs the rest of it in one go.

A few droplets dribble down his chin, and you can't help but scoff jokingly.

"Show off."

Rafe hazardously chucks the empty cup behind his back with a chuckle, gripping your forearm as he begins to drag you into the crowd to find wherever your friends disappeared to. The skin-to-skin contact sends electricity through your veins, amplifying your already heightened mood. A wave of pride swells in your chest that he grabbed you. Out of all these girls dancing around him, eyeing him as he towers over the crowd, he's with you.

The thought makes you reel, as it inherently contradicts everything you feel about him soberly. You shouldn't care about that, and the newfound possessiveness makes your stomach churn.

As he essentially drags you to the dance floor, people bump into you with no consequence, drinks sloshing and elbows digging into your arms, one in your back, and someone even steps on your foot. The grip on your forearm gradually sneaks lower, and lower, and lower, until he's lacing his fingers through yours, gripping tight and secure. You slip a little at the transition, nearly dropping his hand in the process, though he doesn't let that happen.

Because one thing is for certain, which is that Rafe Cameron is not letting go of your hand no matter what.

Eventually, you find yourself walking into his back, unaware that he stopped bulldozing through the sea of people and instead is still, on high alert. You look at your surroundings, frowning when you don't see any of your friends around, instead seeing faces of strangers dancing and laughing and having a great time.

"I thought I saw Sarah," Rafe mumbles yet you hear him just fine, scanning the crowd irritably and running a hand through his hair. "What the fuck."

"How did you lose her? You're seven feet tall."

You stifle a laugh at how fast he whips his head to look at you, glare at you, but it bears little to no threat as you still remember the big, bad Prince of all Pricks is still holding your hand as if it's the only thing grounding him to earth. That hardly intimidates you.

"Now we're stuck here," he snaps, annoyed at the predicament he got the two of you into. "It'll take forever to get out."

You frown up at him, then take a second to take it all in: the people dancing and singing, the heat of passion, the mixture of blues and reds and greens so pretty there might as well be glitter embedded in it, how the thump of the bass feels like your heartbeat, how you fucking love this song. It's almost as if the universe is telling you to slow down, to embrace the present, to enjoy the moment.

Whether you admire the scene for five seconds or five minutes, the difference feels like nothing to you as you peer back up at him again as you watch him scan the crowd hurriedly with furrowed brows. Frankly, you aren't sure why he's so stressed out, because you friends are somewhere nearby, and you know you'll find them eventually.

You're not sure where this newfound nonchalance is coming from, but you bite your lip with anticipation as you slowly loosen your grip on his hand, and with his attention solely on trying to locate his sister, he doesn't notice that you let go of his hand.

But once the contact leaves, Rafe is snapping his gaze down to meet yours.

"What are you-" He nearly snatches your arm.

But you swerve his grasp and feel yourself swaying to the music, moving in unison with all the other people surrounding you. "Dancing!"

"But-"

"No buts, Cameron," you nearly tease, patting his chest right above his heart almost to ease him, but instead it makes his breath hitch. The contact makes your palm feel light. "Would it kill you to enjoy a few songs?"

"Yes."

You roll your eyes, yet refuse to let him damper the mood. You fully embrace your love for this song by twirling and bumping into people around you, but no one notices because everyone's doing the same.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself succumb to the tune, letting the melody fuel your movements and the lyrics quietly utter from your lips. You feel no need to scream them or let your voice go raw, instead murmuring the words you know and letting your body do all the communication.

You might as well be floating. Well, at least that's what it feels like. Despite the choking hot environment, your skin feels like it's burning, but not uncomfortably, with liveliness, airiness, a newfound joy shrouding your senses. Truthfully, you have no idea what you were so worried about before.

After what feels like an hour until the song is over, you peek your eyes open and blink a few times to adjust to the jet streams of light, looking around for Rafe.

Only to discover him staring unabashedly at you.

Despite the heat that rises to your cheeks at the intensity of his blue-eyed gaze, you can't help but tilt your head at him in mock irritation.

"You aren't dancing." Not a question, rather a statement.

His brows raised in offense, as if you asking that is detrimental to his character.

You pout. "Why?"

Rafe snorts, his shoulders jerking lightly from the gesture. "I don't do that shit."

"You too good for dancing?"

"Don't know how," he says before he can take it back. "So I won't."

You frown. Such a simple sentence reveals so much about him.

To outsiders, he's the untouchable Rafe Cameron: the tall, epitome of anger and impatience who definitely has a glaring problem when it comes to him openly disliking something or someone. He has no problem voicing his grievances in order to get exactly what he wants, no matter who he stomps in his path. People have told him he resembles that of a guard dog, nothing short of a protector, something scary and uncertain to strangers. He's not perceived as someone who indulges on something as silly as dancing, as it would taint his character. It serves no purpose, so he's not doing it.

To his friends, he's the fiercely loyal companion who still has a very defiant glaring problem, but it's usually done out of caution or in teasing. He's quite the joker in a deprecating sense, and loves to fulfill dares even if they are unreasonably dangerous because he craves having something to prove. He'll do anything for the people he cares about if it means stepping into a role, providing whatever he needs to in order to deem himself worthy. Still, he'd never be caught dead doing something as stupid as dancing, as he sees it as something for his friends to make fun of him for, something pointless.

Despite all of it, you hate that he feels that he can't indulge into one of simplest pleasures of life because he simply won't allow himself to.

Because it has nothing to prove.

Before your mind says no, you find yourself lunging forward and grabbing his hands, bicycle wheeling them in a poor attempt to make him move, to feel, to dance. You ignore the jolt of warmth that shoots up your arms at the contact, and you hypothesize he feels the same given the way he sucks in a particularly harsh breath.

He lets you have your fun for a moment, but not without a dejected sigh as if you're making him do manual labor.

"Star." A warning.

But you continue, grinning. "Nope, don't Star me. Don't you dare tell me that you don't feel the slightest urge to dance right now."

Rafe opens then closes his mouth, pondering your prompt. For a moment, his eyes travel down to your connected hands and then quickly back up to your face.

"Nope."

"You hesitated."

"Wh- I did not."

You spin yourself using his hand that's practically limp in yours, nearly spilling the drink of the girl behind you. When you nearly stumble back into him, you laugh. "That was so awesome. You should try it."

"St-"

"Nope." You cut him off, one hand gripping his like a lifeline and the other practically shoving at his ribcage to try and get him to spin around. "C'mon, temporary truce, right?"

He scoffs in disbelief. "You're being-"

"What?" You interrupt annoying. "So much fun? A blast? A hoot?" When he opens his mouth to retort, you cock your head to the side and squeeze his hand particularly for emphasis. "You're tripping on molly in a club, and you're telling me you're not going to dance? Not even a little bit?"

All Rafe does is stare at you for a moment, and time seems to slow under the flashing lights and the bass booming through the floor. There's a small tug at the end of his lips, threatening to become a smile despite his portrayed annoyance. Whether or not he means to, his fingers twitch against yours and it makes your heart pound all the same.

As if he snaps out of a trance, you watch him roll his eyes so hard you can see the whites of them before indulging in your request and ducking so he can spin under your raised arm.

It's hardly graceful at his abnormally tall stature, and he looks like he'd rather be doing literally anything else, but at your wide grin, he can't help but nearly shrink under your spotlight.

"See?" You muse, grabbing his other hand so you can continue bicycle wheeling them in between your bodies to keep him moving. "Wasn't that awesome?"

"Thrilling," he deadpans, almost sheepish.

The song switches from something you didn't recognize to another one of your favorites, and you let your eyes close as you hum in approval. Now with your sight dark, your other senses kick in: the warmth of his hands in yours as well as the heat radiating from the surrounding bodies, the bass thumping through your ears, the intrusion of his cologne that smells like something expensive.

Without meaning to, one of your hands leaves his to brace itself on his chest in the heat of the moment, lightly tracing the ridges of his muscles as you get lost in the song.

As soon as you realize what you do, who you did it to, your eyes snap open and you remove it as if your palm is on fire.

"Sorry," you say sheepishly, taking in his amused blue eyes looking down at you. "I didn't-"

"Nah," he hums, low and teasing. "Don't get all shy on me now."

It isn't until you feel his unoccupied hand slither around your waist, snaking under your tank top so that his calloused palm meets the smooth surface of your bare skin, where you have the realization that you're dancing.

With Rafe Cameron.

Your mind tells you to retort back and keep up your normal demeanor of bantering with him, but your body betrays you as it leans into his touch. In fact, your body practically craves it as the pads of his fingertips feel like a million pin pricks digging into the soft flesh of your skin, a rush of ecstasy that you've never felt with anyone else's touch. It also doesn't help that you try (and fail) to suppress a smile at the sensation of it all, of how alive you feel despite the club feeling like a furnace.

Your hand eventually finds its rightful place back on his chest, instead inching up towards his shoulder and feeling the sleek material of his - no doubt - hundred dollar t-shirt. Normally, you'd reel at the proximity due to how detailed you can make out the beauty marks on his face and the specks of blue in his eyes, but you're simply leaning into your agreement, your temporary truce.

As you feel each other up as if life itself depends on it, you figure it couldn't hurt to let yourself indulge in the pleasantries of the narcotic effects. Because when you both come down from the drug, everything will resume as usual and you won't have to ever be this close to him again.

Good riddance.

Despite how dismissive he is about it, it seems like he relatively enjoys dancing- at least this version of dancing that's swaying with the thump thump thump of the bass and mapping regions unknown on the bare skin of your back. Your hips move in unison yet don't connect. Your shoulders roll to the melody as his try and emulate your motions. Your eyes scan his face for any doubts or discomfort, but he eventually starts to look sure of himself when he stops darting his gaze to the people around him in worry and rather focusing on you.

Slowly, but surely, you watch him gradually let his guard down, leaning into the moment and simply enjoying the song.

Simply enjoying doing something without anything to prove.

And when your eyes eventually leave his to venture down to the long column of his neck, staring a little too long at the smooth skin that has you wondering how it would feel to nuzzle into the crater to mold yourself to him, it feels as though everyone else around you has disappeared. There are no more bodies bumping into you. No more laughing and singing and screaming. Nothing.

Just you, him, and the music.

Especially when you glance up again only to find his eyes staring right at you.

Now it really feels like you two are alone.

The implications of being in a crowd to suddenly being alone aren't feasible in the slightest, but your brain doesn't care about the logistics of it all, instead solely focused on Rafe in front of you. Tall, broad, warm Rafe, who's holding onto you as one would grip a lifeline, as one would grab something to mark their territory. He's intoxicating, alluring, and emitting everything you need in this given moment.

At one point, he takes your head and spins you around, shoving your hip with the other to give you momentum. You laugh boisterously under the kaleidoscope of lights, barely flinching when his palm comes back to rest on your waist, of course, under your top, which seems like its rightful place despite how audaciously shameless it is in any normal circumstance. But not now.

"See?" You drawl out, tilting your head to the side. "Told you you'd enjoy it."

Rafe mimics your gesture, cockily smirking. "Oh, did you?"

He's so fucking close you swear you can hear his thoughts.

Yet you push that to the back of your mind. "Mhm. And I love being right."

"When are you ever right about anything?"

"Um, all the time? Literally last week when I told you not to drink after you took ibuprofen because it'll make you sick, and you still did it?"

Rafe scoffs playfully. "Jesus-"

"And what ended up happening?"

He rolls his eyes.

"You got sick, and John B had to take you home early."

"Okay," he secedes. "That was one time."

Yet you grin proudly, relishing in his rare moments of fluster. "No need to be embarrassed, Cameron. Just admit that I was right."

In your faux attempt to have the high ground, you nearly miss how his hand has traveled up your arm and is now resting against your neck, so large and firm that it keeps your head in place. His thumb traces light circles along your chin, barely - just barely - brushing against the swell of your bottom lip as if he's testing the waters, calculating to see if you'll pull away.

But you can't. You refuse to.

The heat is almost unbearable, as his touch electrifies your vocal cord and seers hot against your skin, as if it's conforming into the shape of your body and sinking into your flesh. Yet his palm is molded as if it was made to nuzzle here, and it feels so fucking nice that you wouldn't dream of pulling away.

You can't believe you've spent all this time not touching Rafe Cameron, not having Rafe Cameron touch you. Is this really what you've been missing out on? All this time spent shoving him away before he could pull the lint off your sweater or the leaf out of your hair. Have you been self sabotaging without even knowing?

"Star," Rafe muses low, darting his gaze between your eyes with a rare look that you've never encountered from him. "There is never a scenario where I'll ever admit that."

You pout in faux irritation. "Never?"

You try and ignore how his eyes momentarily glance down to your lips, then come back up to look at you as if it means nothing, as if he hasn't just wordlessly revealed his desire to close the distance. Although something falters in his gaze, a sliver of the playfulness leaving the gleam of his eye and instead replaced with something softer, more genuine, something that makes your heart skip a beat at the rawness of it.

"Never," he responds quietly, yet despite the loud music, his voice is the only thing you hear.

When his gaze flickers down to your lips again, you find yourself parting them out of sheer surprise at the audacity of him to shamelessly stare at you like this not once, but twice, to shamelessly express what he wants without having to say anything, not explicitly, anyway.

Yet you understand him all the same.

His hand seems to press impossibly tight against your waist, and you can't deny how fucking good it feels to be caged in by him, surrounded by him, as almost all of your senses are fulfilled by him: his fire palm on your burning skin, his cologne infiltrating your nostrils, his baritone voice alluring you as a siren would her prey, his beautiful blue eyes scanning your face with a newfound possession that makes you reel.

Just one sense is missing, and your lips tingle at the anticipation.

You swear Rafe begins to lean in.

"There you are!"

The two of you blink out of your trance, startled by the body nearly shoving you out of his grasp.

You're no longer alone with him, as everyone has returned in the crowd closer than before. Blinking once, twice to take in your surroundings, you realize that someone bumped into you. Purposefully.

You spin around to meet the culprit, expecting Sarah and your friends, but are instead met with the pretty blonde from earlier, the girl who tried to take the jello-shot from JJ but was thoroughly denied, the girl that Rafe was trying to pick up at the party. More so, the girl who was shooting such aggressive fuck-me eyes at him that you swore they would pop out of the socket.

Her eyes narrow slightly at the sight of you, darting between you and Rafe in confusion, before eventually settling on him, batting her eyelashes up at him with faux sweetness as if she wasn't (probably) cursing you and your bloodline in her head.

"Hi," she says brightly, "I've been looking for you everywhere."

His hand that was previously cradling your neck falls to his side, but the other hand still seers hot on your hip, almost reluctant to let go of his one chance to touch you.

"Alyssa," he responds almost breathlessly, caught in a weird scenario. "I didn't-"

"Annalise," she corrects quickly, her charming smile faltering for a second before returning to its normal state. "Wanna continue our convo from earlier?"

Her question lays thick in the air, as Rafe furrows his brows as he looks between you and her, almost startled at the intrusion but also still recovering from the close proximity shared with you in a way he's never experienced before. He's never endured something like that, and never expected to in his entire lifetime.

Especially with you. The girl who never let him get too close.

You reel at his reluctance, almost letting out a sigh of relief that nothing escalated, because how would you explain that to your friends? To your best friend, your roommate? His sister? Besides, this is the guy who drives you up the wall every time he's in your vicinity, and it would be an utter disaster to venture into uncharted waters with him, of all people.

At his silence, she suddenly turns to you, jabbing a thumb in Rafe's direction. "You're not with him, are you?"

A laugh bubbles in your throat at the mere insinuation of it - at the audacity of her to think you'll ever be with a guy like Rafe Cameron - but you don't let it escape because you frankly don't want to sound like an asshole.

You're too happy right now, too airy on cloud nine that you don't want to dwell on the implications of your little moment with him. Plus, you don't want to cock-block him. You saw how cozied up they were in your apartment, and figured something like this was bound to happen anyway, knowing your truce was only temporary and nothing more. Of course, you're a little surprised it's happening so soon into the night, arguably at the peak of your trip, but you should've expected this.

Especially from him.

So you flash Annalise a smile, one that she probably doesn't deserve since she nearly shoved you to the ground just moments ago, and step away from Rafe's grasp even though your body screams at the loss of contact.

"No," you respond politely. "No, we're just friends. He's all yours."

You nearly double take at Rafe when you hear him say your name, a mix between in warning and disbelief.

Watching Annalise grip his arm and curl a talon around his bicep, you dart your gaze back to him, whose blue eyes are so piercing that you almost lose your breath, adding on top of your initial breathlessness at the fact that he used your name, something he almost never does unless he's actually upset. A gloss of anger flashes across his features, but it's hard to mask it over the sliver of worry that you've never seen on his face before.

Part of you understands his apprehension: you're supposed to be joined at the hip, in this trip together, but you saw how annoyed he was with JJ when he scared Annalise off with the shots, and you don't want to be on the receiving end of his irritation. Besides, you planned for this. Partially.

You send him a reassuring smile. "I'm good. Honest. I'll dance nearby, okay?"

His response is immediate. "You'd tell me if you weren't okay?"

The near possession almost makes you reel, and part of you wants to push further and scold him for being so overly cautious with you (as always), but you notice the anticipation of Annalise's hands trailing up his chest and skimming the curt edge of his jawline, ready to fill your shoes as soon as she gets the green light.

And honestly? No, you probably wouldn't tell him in a normal scenario. But right now, you certainly feel fine.

"Yes," you reiterate. "I'll be around, okay?"

Rafe is reluctant, that much is obvious. He barely pays attention to the girl practically clinging to him as he solely focuses on you, staring at him with unwavering certainty so that he'll give in and enjoy his night. Something foreign glosses over his eyes, and you spend a moment trying to decipher the wordless code, but come up short on its implications.

Eventually, after a second of him trying to find any faults in your stare and coming up short, you nod at him again to emphasize that he has a very pretty girl all over him and he's not doing anything about it, and he seems to circle back to planet earth, resting a light hand on her waist to test the waters, to please you.

You try to ignore how he looks uncertain and slightly uncomfortable, probably at the thought of leaving him alone, so you put on your best reassuring smile and send him a wink that has him shaking his head in disbelief at you, a smirk tugging the edge of his lips.

With that image, you twist away from him and venture into the crowd. Yeah, you think as you scan the crowd for cute guys, he's fine.

After a minute of searching, your eyes land on a handsome brunette talking animatedly with a group of guys, assumingely his friends, and you waste no time planting a gentle hand on his bicep to grab his attention, figuring someone like him will do for the time being, figuring you can find your friends after a couple songs because you'd still like to dance for a while longer.

He looks down at you with his pretty brown eyes and blinks, as if he's trying to decipher if you're real.

"Hi," you say sweetly over the music. "Wanna dance?"

The guy huffs in disbelief as he takes in your figure. "Shiiiit. If I ever say no to that, shoot me."

You roll your eyes, yet nonetheless grab his unoccupied hand and lead him a little ways away from his snickering friends, finding a quaint spot smack-dab in the middle of the dance floor as the song morphs into something sultry and melodic, still with the thrumming bass strong enough to vibrate your bones. The contact with him is immediate.

Unlike Rafe's teasing yet firm touch, this guy - who you're gonna call Polo given the ridiculous collared shirt he's wearing - has no problem letting his hands shamelessly wander over your body, over places Rafe wouldn't dare venture in fear of losing a limb.

Not that you necessarily mind, because every touch on your bare skin feels like flashes of lightning igniting in your veins.

His hands are everywhere: your waist that was once electrified by a certain person's touch earlier, your ass, your chest through your tank top, as his lips duck dangerously low to your neck, whispering sweet nothings that you - quite frankly - don't bother to pay attention to. His voice isn't baritone or sultry enough to get you to listen, nor does the temporary solace make you feel as if you were on fire, not like before with-

Then you reel. Why are you comparing this random to Rafe Cameron?

The Rafe Cameron who steals your snacks instead of his sister's, who threw you in the ocean after getting your hair done because Pope bet him a case of beer that he wouldn't, who plays with girls' hearts like it's his day job, feeling little to no remorse on the notion of recycling through his roster to broach some excitement in his life, who has driven you up the wall for a year now.

You've loathed him for all that time. Sure, you're cordial to him for the sake of Sarah, who watches your arguments like a tennis-match and always sides with you out of amusement to piss her brother off, who uses all her excuses to force close proximity between you and him, claiming she needs a form of entertainment for the next few hours, who knows how you feel about a guy like him when it comes to dating.

If it was up to you, you just wouldn't see him at all. But no, he's always there, because she wants him to be. Because she wants both of you in her life. You and-

Rafe.

Who's staring at you across the dance floor.

You meet his piercing gaze when you suddenly get a vantage point over Polo's shoulder, nearly gasping at the intensity of it. Annalise clings to him, arms strung high around his neck as she sways to the beat and essentially grinds herself against his front, but his hands never venture lower than her waist (that are barely touching her, by the way), as he shamelessly glares between you and Polo.

Through the sea of people, through all the constantly changing strobe lights, he sees you. Out of everyone. He finds you.

You barely register Polo's lips on your neck, slowly making their way up to your jaw until his shoulder blocks your view of Rafe, instead being met with his chest. You blink a few times to try and decipher if that was real or not, but you don't get too far in your findings before Polo leans down and connects your lips in a heated kiss.

You try to lean into it. You really try.

Because, frankly, Polo's a pretty good kisser and his hands feel nice against your ass, but you can't help that nagging voice in the back of your mind yelling you that it's not who you want it to be, the nagging image of Rafe staring at you through the crowd with such a dark - almost possessive - gaze that it sent a shiver down your spine, the nagging feeling that something feels wrong, everything feels wrong because it isn't him.

And that thought scares you.

You blame it on the fact that you're high off a drug you've never indulged in before, blaming your racing thoughts on the effects of something you're experiencing for the first time. The cause is the jello shot you took all those ages ago, the effect being delirium.

Without even registering it, your hands are bracing on Polo's chest in an attempt to get him to stop kissing you.

With furrowed brows and puffy lips, Polo looks down at you incredulously, almost offended. "What? What's wrong?"

You open your mouth to speak but the words don't come, and it looks like he's about to add another response.

Until he's suddenly ripped away from you.

You blink once, twice, almost gasping at the sudden sensation of being alone, of nothing touching you. The motion is quick, it startles you, as you try and recover from stumbling as all of your weight was leaning on Polo and now it's dependent on the open air in front of you. You stagger, trying to find your footing as you stare at the scene in front of you.

And holy shit.

You nearly reel at the sight of Rafe with a fist full of Polo's shirt by the back of the neck, holding him as one would scruff a loose puppy, yanking him until his hands are no longer groping your ass, until his lips are away from yours, until he's no longer in the relative vicinity as you.

Once he sees that no one is touching you, Rafe lets go of Polo's shirt as quickly as he grabbed it.

But Polo doesn't let that slide, angrily whipping to face Rafe and shove him particularly hard into a poor group of girls behind him, who scream and shout and cover their drinks to no avail, as some splash onto the ground at the contact.

"The fuck, man?" Polo shouts, confused and irate and a little too drunk to be in his right mind. "We were in the fucking middle of something!"

Rafe barely pays him any mind, instead turning to you with a gaze so serious you can't help but gawk at him. "Found Sarah. Let's go."

You stupidly blink back at him, darting your gaze between the two guys in disbelief that there wasn't a drop of blood spilled. You've never, ever heard of Rafe Cameron getting into a fight and not finishing it, not hitting back, as his trademark is that he'll start a fight and end one. Sarah told you about all the times he'd get into fights in high school, even fights with John B for fuck's sake, and even then he never lost, never backed down, never let someone else get the last hit.

And as you peer up at him now, your shock must be evident as he simply waits for your words, for any indication that you're ready to move again. But you don't give him any, as you're frozen in place and still reeling at the fact that he didn't hit back. Why didn't he hit back? Why did he start this shit in the first place?

He says your name once in warning.

You don't get the chance to respond when Polo reaches forward and shoves Rafe again.

"Hey, jackass," he hisses loudly. "I'm talkin' to you!"

Rafe stumbles one, two steps, darting his gaze towards the guy with furrowed brows as if the whole thing is an inconvenience to him.

When Polo angrily huffs at his silence, he lunges again towards Rafe in preparation to shove him again, but one side step to the right and Polo's missing his target, and - instead - nearly collapsing into you.

The force almost knocks you off your feet as you fall into the group of girls behind you, gripping one of their shoulders ferociously tight to refrain from meeting the sticky ground. One of them, thankfully, snatches your arm so goddamn tight that you yelp, but she undoubtedly saved you from making a quick trip to the ground.

Polo's elbow particularly jabbed your ribs so hard it'll definitely bruise, and you wince at the commotion and stumble like a baby fawn trying to find its footing as he recovers from the unmistakable miss in his target.

Rafe notices the flicker of pain across your face in an instant, and - with the green light to do so - balls his fist tight and brings it down fast and hard against Polo's cheekbone.

A sharp gasp leaves Annalise's mouth, who you didn't even know had been standing here the whole time, and all you do is helplessly blink down at Polo's groaning figure on the gross, sticky floor. People create a circle around the chaos, muttering yeeshes and fucks in between song lyrics as they take in the scene in front of them, eyes wide as they dart from the guy on the ground to the guy who threw the punch, whose surprisingly calm.

Whose eyes are on you.

You barely register Rafe's fingers circling your wrist, grounding you back to reality.

Just as you're about to scold him, to ask him what the fuck he was even thinking, a flashlight beams onto Rafe's face, and his pretty blue eyes squint at the ferocity of it.

A burly bouncer, the one with the flashlight, joins the circle and takes in the scene in front of him: Rafe shaking out his knuckle as Polo spits up blood on his hands and knees on the ground.

Seeing enough to make a verdict, the bouncer grips harshly onto Rafe's shoulder, while Polo's friends get him up off the floor (not without shooting daggers at the culprit, and at you for getting their friend into this mess in the first place). A flicker of panic rises in your chest, and his fingers around your wrist are providing the only solace you can find in the moment.

"Yeah, you're done," the bouncer chuckles huskily. "No fighting."

He begins tugging Rafe away who doesn't complain nor attempt to plead his case, instead walking alongside the bouncer and outstretching his arm to where you stand, unmoving, until his hand is ripped from your grasp and he's disappearing into the crowd.

Fuck.

There's no way you're going to be able to deal with this alone, let alone face the effects head on and maneuver through a crowd to attempt to find your friends who have been missing for what feels like ages. You watch your lifeline go, disappear into the mess of bodies as a needle is flung into the haystack, probably not to be seen again unless you do something about it.

Your heart is in your throat, and you let out a ragged breath.

But it's as if your brain suddenly flips a switch, and you find yourself maneuvering quickly through the crowd, even going as far as pushing people to catch up to the bouncer.

You don't think twice about lunging forward to grab Rafe's hand.

His head whips back in confusion to find the culprit, ready to cuss them out, but you swear his eyes soften when he realizes it's you.

You, the girl who hates any form of touch from him, clinging to him, lacing your fingers with his and trailing his escort out of the club.

If you didn't know any better, you swear that he's fucking grinning under the strobe lights, apparently pleased that you decided to chase him through a sea of people and join his walk off the ship's plank.

The bouncer reaches the side door, opening it for Rafe and looking back to you in surprise, not expecting anyone to have followed him. But, frankly, he could give less of a shit, and merely opens the door wider for you to leave with the culprit.

"Front door bouncer knows what you look like," the bouncer says to Rafe, his voice deeper than you've ever heard before. "Don't try it."

The door is slamming in your face before you even know it, and the silence quickly consumes the two of you, frisked by the breeze and standing alone in a dingy alleyway. Your heart is thrumming in your throat, and it takes a few moments to realize the drug is still fully having an effect, since you notice it now more than ever since there aren't any strobe lights or loud music masking your senses.

Now it's quiet. Your heartbeat is in your ears. Your hands are on fire. The cold breeze feels like a hug.

"Didn't expect you to follow, Star."

Rafe's voice pulls you from your thoughts, nearly scaring the shit out of you as you jump at the sound of his voice, whipping your head to face him.

Cursing yourself, you really wish you hadn't looked, because the expression on his face makes your blood boil.

You nearly want to slap that smug smirk off of his face and call him something abhorrent. But when his gaze darts down for a fraction of a second, you realize he's not being a prick at the notion of you following him through a crowd of hundreds of people, or how your notorious scowl is back on your face, or how he's probably got a hundred lewd comments cycling in his brain at the two of you now alone at last, no.

He's grinning at how you're still holding his hand.

With the discovery, you drop it as if it's on fire. You try and ignore the cocky tilt of his head, egging you on as if it isn't one of the most embarrassing and self incriminating things you could ever do to yourself.

"Whatever," you manage to say, "you're the one stupid enough to fucking punch the guy. Who absolutely did not deserve that, by the way."

Rafe merely shrugs, as if he's not entertaining the thought.

"And now," you continue with a hiss, "we're separated from our friends who are probably in there either having the time of their lives or graciously worrying about us and how we're not with them."

"Maybe," he says lazily. "But you still followed."

The simplicity of his words make you falter, because he's got you between a rock and a hard place. Yes, you can say all you want about how stupid he is and how angry you are at him because he decided to go all caveman and beat his chest. But the fact of the matter is that you saw all of this go down, you nearly got involved yourself, and you still decided to stick with him.

And you have to suffer the consequences because of your choice.

Your eyes narrow at him, feeling light and airy in the breeze and trying to remember why you're here with him, what you both agreed to at the beginning of the night, the reason why you followed him and nothing else. (Because it genuinely, genuinely has to be because of this and no other reason.)

"Temporary truce, right?"

Rafe's eyes widen in amusement, and the pretty blue hues shine with something other than pride, something deeper, darker, something that nearly makes your knees buckle. It's almost as if he knows that's an excuse, a front, a cover to mask what you really want to say to him, what you really feel.

Frankly, what you really want to say to him is a mystery, not even you know that yet. And what you feel is beyond that, it's a complete unknown.

All he does is hum, unconvinced. Something soft glosses over his features, and you barely have time to register what it means before he's flashing you that million dollar smirk that he loves to pull out of his back pocket, one he has on the ready.

"Right. So, now what, pretty?"

notes channeling the beard after hours episode of ted lasso.

#rec

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ghostofwriting · 13 days ago

Text

Also have been reading this!!! I’ve been keeping up with everyone’s theories and I’m terrified of the people referencing one tree hill and nannie Carrie. I need their protected at all costs please!!! I could kiss your brain, you’re brilliant.

TWIN FLAMES PART 18

≪ masterlist ≫

SOCIAL MEDIA AU, 18+ MDNI

baby!daddy!rafe x pogue!reader

warnings: swearing

summary: You and Rafe were the couple that no one saw coming. The kook king and the pogue princess falling in love was a shock to the whole island. The pogues questioned your relationship, the kooks despised it, and Ward took extreme measures to tear you two apart every chance he got. It was only a matter of time before the pressure caused the relationship to break. The constant arguing, the yelling, it all became too much. Rafe turned to drugs and you isolated yourself from everyone until there was too much damage to repair. But life has a funny way of bringing two souls back together. In this instance, in the form of a three year old little boy.

Notes: 👀 can’t wait to read the comments on this one! send in your theories!

edit: if you want a hint at what was suppose to happen at 12, rafes messages in part 13 will tell you 😉

taglist: @yktayy9669 @massivepenguinfart @maybankslover @defnotayonna @daddyrafeslittleslut @a-lovers-card @inthelibrarybtw @scarlettoceaneyes @anacamofficial @bbyg4rl @smokahontas-113 @rafeysbabydoll @rafesbabygirlx @frankoceanluvr11 @flvredcas @voidangxls @ivy-34 @yolgart @starsmoonn @hannieskzzz @tqd4455 @jjasmiineee @congratsloserr @pr3tty-pink @lili-swagalicious @papercranesandinkstains @jamesbeaufortismylife @stoned-writer @kathryn-maraudersversion @st8rkey @justdamnpeachy @ggraycelynn @luvelola @icaqttt @rafe-cameronswife @pogueprincesa @mrsdrewstarkeyy @countryclubwhore @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @lerclec @drewsswifeyy @bee-43 @akobx @trevorsturniolo @mariamadison6-blog @larema121 @stelleduarte @klarxtr @ietss @todorokiskitten

#another rec

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ghostofwriting · 13 days ago

Text

Anyway I’ve been reading this and I’m actually addicted. I love it so much. I’m probably obsessed actually and I eagerly await every update 🩷🩷

Love Island Episode 8: Kiss it Better, Baby

pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader

words: 3k

warnings: intimate kissing, cuss words

kissing challenge results | series masterlist

The girls are huddled on a bench, buzzing with excitement. Across from them, the boys stand in a line, blindfolded and wearing headphones. Maddy stands by a giant whiteboard with everyone's names, holding a heart-shaped board covered in notes.

“Alright, ladies.” Maddy grins, slipping into full presenter mode. “How are we feeling about this kissing challenge?”

Laughter and cheers erupt from the bench. Maddy smirks.

“Ready to kiss some boys?” She teases. The girls erupt again, hollering in agreement as Maddy glances at her board.

“Okay, first up is Kiara!”

Kiara stands, smoothing her dress.

“Wish me luck.” She quips and the girls give her a playful shove toward the lineup.

She starts with JJ. Their kiss is intense, deep. Then she moves down the line: Ryan, Topper, Kelce, Rafe, John B and finally, Pope. That one’s gentler, a little awkward, but still sweet. She gives him another soft peck before heading back to the bench, her cheeks flushed.

The boys take off their headphones as the music cuts.

“So, boys.” Maddy asks. “Thoughts on our first girl?”

“Good kiss.” Pope says, grinning. Kiara shakes her head with a laugh.

“Pretty solid start.” JJ agrees.

Maddy records their ratings and Kiara scores 53 points. She does a little shoulder shimmy, proud of the result.

“Cleo, you’re up!” Maddy calls, as soon as the boys put their headphones back on

Cleo's approach is slower, more thoughtful. Her kisses are softer, lingering a bit longer on new guy, Ryan and Pope. With Pope, there's something deeper. His hands drift up her sides and when they separate, his lips are slightly swollen and shimmering with her Fenty gloss.

Cleo earns 55 points. She flashes Kiara a cheeky middle finger making Kiara laugh.

Next is Sarah. Her kisses are sensual, soft but confident.

“I think I’m getting turned on.” Y/N mutters, fanning herself as Sarah kisses Ryan.

When she gets to John B, her arms loop around his shoulders. He instinctively wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close. Their kiss deepens and she giggles mid-way before moving to his neck, trailing up to his ear with a slow lick and a playful bite. John B gasps in response and the girls erupt in squeals. Sarah walks back with 63 points.

Then comes Alyssa. She lingers on Topper, but it’s clear her moment is with Rafe. She turns to the girls with a smirk.

“I never got my chance with him so…sorry, Y/N.” She says, before tugging Rafe down into a kiss.

Y/N rolls her eyes, watching closely. The kiss is messy, desperate but Rafe doesn’t lean in. His hands stay crossed behind his back. When it’s over, he wipes his mouth and Cleo elbows Y/N, wide-eyed.

Alyssa scores the lowest, even with Topper’s generous 10. She scowls as she returns to the bench.

Now it’s Maddy’s turn. The girls cheer as she heads to the boys with purpose. Her kisses are slow and deliberate, especially with Kelce. His hands grip her ass as her dress rides up slightly. They kiss longer than anyone else so far and when she pulls back, her cheeks are flushed.

Maddy earns 60 points. Not a win, but close enough to be proud.

Then, Abigail dives in with pure excitement, making the most of every kiss. She scores 53 points and returns to the bench beaming, not worried about the score.

Last but definitely not least, Y/N rises from the bench and walks slowly toward the lineup of blindfolded boys. She starts with JJ. Their kiss begins soft, but he wastes no time making it messier. His hands grip her waist while her nails trail across his abs, exposed beneath his open shirt.

Next is Ryan. She surprises him by pulling him down to her height, confidently guiding his hands to her ass while cupping his face. Their kiss is slow, sensual and charged. Ryan melts into it, drawing her in closer.

“Oh my god.” Maddy breathes, watching with wide eyes as the rest of the girls exchange stunned looks.

Y/N pulls away with a smirk and moves on to Topper. Their kiss is more tentative as he fumbles with his hands, unsure of where to place them. But Y/N holds her ground and kisses him gently, keeping the moment light.

She approaches Kelce, bracing herself for discomfort, but it never comes. The kiss is unexpectedly sweet, stirring up old memories and forgotten wounds. When she pulls away, she pats his cheek twice, almost fondly, before stepping toward Rafe.

She stops in front of him, pausing to take him in. His head bobs lightly to the beat in his headphones, arms still crossed behind his back like they’ve been for every kiss, so far. His polo clings to his chest, the stubble on his jaw making her knees wobble.

She closes the distance, fingers grazing his chest, then his neck, before cradling his face. Her lips meet his softly at first, but the moment they connect, his hands drop to her waist, pulling her in. The kiss deepens. He groans low in his throat, his grip tightening on her ass, not rough, but firm enough to leave a mark in her memory.

She pulls back to breathe, then kisses down his neck, slowly, deliberately. He tightens his grip on her hips, pressing her against him.

“Y/N…” He whispers. Though he can’t see her, she looks up at him anyway, then leans in again. This time the kiss is shorter, but just as intense. So much that it leaves her dizzy and him breathless. Before walking away, she bites his bottom lip gently, drawing another groan. The girls laugh from the bench as Rafe exhales sharply and bends slightly, adjusting his pants, clearly flustered.

Still catching her breath, Y/N kisses John B. It’s soft, sweet and brief. She knows nothing else could measure up after Rafe.

Finally, she reaches Pope. Their kiss is warm, unhurried. When she pulls back, she’s smiling and so is he.

Y/N returns to the bench just as the music cuts and the boys remove their headphones, but not their blindfolds.

“Boys.” Maddy announces. “That was our seventh and final girl. Thoughts?”

“Hell.” Rafe mutters, drawing chuckles from the girls. Maddy raises an eyebrow.

“Well, Rafe, it seemed like you got a little more...engaged during that round. Any notes? Comments?”

Y/N rolls her eyes as Maddy looks at her knowingly. She reapplies her lip gloss, trying not to smirk. Rafe shakes his head.

“No notes. Just…she’s a fucking amazing kisser.” Down the line, Ryan nods, clearly agreeing. Sarah elbows Y/N.

“You seem confident.” Maddy teases. “Think you know who you were kissing?”

“I don’t think.” Rafe says. “I know.”

Maddy turns back to her chalkboard.

“Alright, time for the ratings. JJ?”

“Solid kiss.” JJ replies. “The nail thing? Hot. I’ll give her an 8.”

Maddy scribbles it down.

“Ryan, you seemed to be enjoying yourself…”

Ryan nods, glancing toward where he thinks Y/N might be.

“Yeah, she definitely knew what she was doing. I liked how she took control, put my hands where she wanted.”

Rafe scoffs.

“It’s a 10 from me.” Ryan adds. The girls react with surprise. Even Y/N raises an eyebrow. Maddy clears her throat theatrically.

“Would you kiss her again?” She asks, glancing at Y/N.

“No hesitation.” Ryan says with a grin. Rafe shifts, jaw clenched, clearly irritated.

“Topper?”

“A little awkward, probably my fault.” He admits. “And considering Rafe ‘knows’ who it was, I’d rather not get my ass beat, so…6.”

The girls laugh and Y/N grins, unfazed.

“Good man.” Rafe mutters approvingly.

“Kelce?”

Kelce scratches the back of his neck.

“I had my suspicions before, but Rafe confirmed them. Great kiss. No hard feelings. I’ll give it a 9.”

Y/N gives him a grateful smile as Maddy turns to Rafe.

“Okay, Ra-” “10.” Rafe cuts her off, arms crossed, smirking. Maddy blinks but jots it down.

With John B and Pope’s ratings added, Y/N earns 61 points, which confirms Sarah's win. The girls cheer for the final scores as the boys remove their blindfolds and crowd around the board.

Rafe’s eyes find Y/N immediately, lingering on her flushed cheeks and glossed lips.

Now it’s the girls’ turn, as they line up with playful grins and nervous giggles, slipping on their headphones and adjusting their blindfolds while the boys take their seats on the bench. Kelce stands front and center, holding the heart-shaped board filled with notes.

“Alright, first up is John B!” He announces, earning cheers as John B rises.

John B moves down the line smoothly, planting soft kisses with ease. He lingers a little longer on Sarah, wrapping her up in his arms, making her giggle into his chest. It’s sweet, familiar. He returns to the bench with 53 points, shrugging nonchalantly.

Topper is next and things immediately get awkward. He’s all elbows and bad timing. Pulling Maddy a little too hard, landing a kiss on Kiara’s nose and going way too intense with Y/N.

“I am really, really sorry for this.” Y/N says, readjusting her blindfold, her tone apologetic but honest. “It just wasn’t my speed. I’m gonna have to give it a 6.”

Topper returns to the bench with 50 points as the guys try to lift his spirits.

Kelce’s turn brings a wave of energy. He’s charming, deliberate, taking his time with each girl. Deep kisses, roving hands, a confident swagger and he racks up an impressive 65 points, leaving everyone cheering in surprise.

Pope follows, more tender and precise. His soft touch earns him a ‘10’ from Cleo, boosting him to a solid 58 points.

And then, it’s Rafe. He stands slowly, his jaw tight, but eyes scanning the lineup until they land on her.

She doesn’t know he’s watching, of course. Her head’s tilted slightly to the beat of the music in her ears, her weight shifting from foot to foot. Her hands tucked into her back pockets. And those jeans hugging her figure just right.

He starts with Cleo, a soft kiss and steady hands. Then Maddy, with a light grip around the waist. Alyssa, Kiara, Abigail, Sarah, each kiss deliberate, measured. But they’re just stepping stones. Because then, he’s in front of her.

And something shifts.

He doesn’t hesitate. His hands find her waist and pull her toward him in one swift motion, surprising her. Her breath catches as her fingers instinctively clutch his shirt. The scent of his cologne, familiar yet dangerous, wraps around her like a second skin. She doesn’t know it’s him, but her body remembers.

He cups her face gently, his lips brushing hers, tender at first before deepening the kiss with purpose. His tongue slips past her lips, drawing a breathy sound from her throat. One hand moves to the nape of her neck, holding her in place, while the other slides down, gripping her thighs and lifting her up effortlessly. She gasps as her legs wrap around his waist. His hand grips her ass firmly, massaging the flesh and she lets out a sound she doesn’t even recognize.

His lips find her neck. A kiss. Then a bite. She grips his shoulders hard, nails digging into his skin and he hisses in delight. He kisses her again, hungrier now, messier. Her lip gloss smears onto his lips as her head tilts to chase more.

When he finally pulls back, it’s not to catch his breath but to admire her. Lips swollen. Hair tousled. Cheeks flushed. Two faint marks on her neck.

He knows she’s going to kill him for that. And he also knows he doesn’t care.

He sets her down gently, presses one last squeeze to her ass and walks back without a word. The boys erupt in laughter and high fives and he accepts them all with a smug smile, casually wiping her lip gloss from his mouth with the back of his hand.

The girls remove their headphones just as Kelce speaks up.

“Girls, what did you think of boy number five?”

“It was nice.” Maddy smiles.

“Very sweet. And very respectful too.” Abigail adds. But Y/N tilts her head, still blindfolded, brows furrowed.

“Y/N, you’re making a face.” Kelce notes.

“I…I think I got some type of different treatment with this one?” She says, laughing awkwardly, touching her flushed cheeks.

“Good different?” Maddy asks and Y/N doesn’t hesitate.

“No, yeah. Definitely good.”

Topper’s laughing, practically shaking Rafe beside him. Rafe just leans back with a smug grin.

“Alright, ladies, time to rate the guy.” Kelce says. The scores go around until it’s Y/N’s turn. Everyone watches.

“I’m probably gonna regret this later when he rubs it in my face.” She begins, sighing. “But…I’d give that kiss a 10.”

Topper cheers, the girls burst into laughter and Rafe just sits there smirking, glitter still shining on his lips proudly.

Y/N is still breathless. But not from the kiss. But from knowing exactly who it was because no one else ever made her feel like that.

JJ is next, springing up from the bench with a grin and ripping off his shirt, earning cheers and laughter from the boys. His score isn't quite what he hoped for, but he shrugs it off with a smirk as he returns to his seat.

“At least I beat JB.” He jokes, making John B chuckle. He plops down on the bench as the final boy stands.

Ryan steps forward, making his way toward the girls with smooth confidence. He works down the line with soft kisses and warm touches, a playful charm in every step. But when he reaches the last girl, his pace changes. There’s a flicker of excitement as he crouches down, his hands gently cupping Y/N’s face. Her lips part slightly at the contact and instinctively, he wets his own before leaning in.

His kiss is nothing like Rafe’s. There’s no rush, no urgency. It’s slow and tender, his lips moving carefully against hers, tongue just teasing enough to leave her wanting more. His hands rest lightly on her waist, fingers squeezing her hips with gentle intent. When he finally pulls away, she’s breathless, leaning in again like she might follow him.

From the bench, Rafe watches, jaw tight, every nerve in his body screaming to look away but he doesn’t. He can’t. He sees her response and it knots something inside him.

Ryan straightens and returns to his seat as the girls begin removing their headphones.

“Last boy, ladies, what’s the verdict?” Kelce grins, glancing at the board before turning back.

“It was cute.” Sarah says casually.

“Unexpected.” Y/N murmurs under her breath.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.” Kelce pipes up. “Care to repeat that for the group, Y/N?”

She hesitates.

“I...I said it was unexpected.”

Rafe’s eyes flick to her, a quiet question in his gaze. Cleo raises a brow, half amused.

“Girl, don’t talk in riddles. Was it good or bad unexpected?” She asks, getting impatient. Y/N lets out a small laugh with the others.

“It was good.” She licks her lips, fidgeting with her ring. “Really good.”

Kelce looks away from the notes in his hand.

“And why exactly was it unexpected?”

“I’m not sure.” She says, softly. “It just…it surprised me. It was a nice kiss.” She exhales. “Can we just move to the rating?”

Kelce nods and asks Cleo to start. One by one, the girls give their scores, until it’s Y/N’s turn.

“So, Y/N.” Kelce prompts, marker in hand. “What’s it gonna be?”

“It was a nice kiss. Sweet. Soft. More my pace, I guess.” She swallows. “I’d give it a…10.”

The boys erupt in cheers around Ryan as Topper’s head snaps back toward Rafe. Kelce raises his eyebrows, scribbling the score on the board.

“That brings boy number seven to a total of 59 points. Ladies, you can now remove your blindfolds.”

The girls step forward to study the board, their eyes adjusting to the light. The boys follow, teasing and comparing scores. Y/N blinks, scanning the numbers, then gasps.

“Oh my god, Topper, I’m so sorry about the 6.” She exclaims, grabbing his arm and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it.”

As Sarah points out a name on the board, Y/N turns to her, chatting. When Sarah turns to ask Maddy something, Y/N feels something behind her. Or someone. A hand grazes her waist. A breath brushes her neck. Goosebumps rise on her skin.

“When I give you the signal.” A voice murmurs. “Meet me on the terrace.”

She nods almost imperceptibly, then glances back at Sarah as if nothing happened. But her eyes keep flicking to him. Waiting.

He’s laughing with Pope, fingers running through his hair and then he catches her eye. A wink. A silent cue. He excuses himself before he steps away, heading up the stairs.

Y/N leans into Sarah.

“I’m gonna go…to the terrace.” She murmurs, subtly nodding in that direction. Sarah’s eyes widen, tracking his absence.

“With him?” She asks and Y/N nods.

“We need to talk. Especially after that challenge.”

Sarah sighs, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“If anything happens, call my name. Got it?” She advises and Y/N nods, slipping away through the bedroom and up the stairs. She pauses outside the makeup room, inhaling deeply before pushing open the door.

He’s there, sitting on the couch, gaze fixed on the villa below. When the door clicks shut, he turns to her.

“Hey.” He says quietly, sitting up.

“Hi.” She replies, just as softly.

to be continued...

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#Will be reblogging some things I’ve been reading #love it so much #definitely a rec

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