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katieshook02 · 5 hours ago

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Just gotta show you that I'm the one

RafeCameron x Reader

In which you kiss Rafe during a game of spin the bottle, and he can't seem to leave you alone after.

wc: 7.1k

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The bass of the music made your whole body vibrate with adrenaline— that and the alcohol. It was the first party of the summer yet, everyone celebrated like it was the last. You rarely showed up to things like this, but after a difficult semester and a tough breakup, you figured you deserved to let loose. That’s what you kept telling yourself—to drown out the badgering thought that if you’d just been good enough, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself cheated on.

You shake your head like you were trying to get the thoughts to fall from your ears, and gulped down another Jell-O shot. Your fourth one of the night.

When you set the shot glass down, your arm was yanked and your body was being dragged over to the door leading down to the basement.

“Soph, where’re you taking me?” You giggled at the end of your question, which was confusing because nothing was funny. But you heard from friends that when you got drunk, it was a laugh fest.

“Basement— they’re playing spin the bottle.” She held you tight and guided you down the stairs. Leaning closer to whisper in your ear, she says, “maybe I’ll get to kiss Caleb.” She almost squealed with excitement.

Lots of people were laughing and chit chatting as they sat down in a poorly formed circle. You found an empty space next to Topper, who smiled politely at you. At that moment, you remembered that alcohol also made you very affectionate. You didn’t know Topper all that well and you still reached out and pinched his cheek in response. He was taken aback, but didn’t say anything.

“Alright, everyone knows the rules. If the bottle lands on you, you gotta give the spinner a big ol’ kiss. Capeesh?” Kelce announced to everyone, and looked around to make sure they were on the same page.

Nods and hums filled the room and an empty corona bottle was placed in the middle of the circle.

Kelce went first.

Everyone stared at the bottle in anticipation. Some dreading it landing on them, while others prayed to a higher being that they’d get to kiss Kelce. You, on the other hand, just looked up and around the room at everyone since the spinning bottle was making you dizzy.

Cheers sounded through the basement as the bottle finally chose. It landed on Kelce’s ex-girlfriend, Madison. Everyone whooped and laughed at how unbelievably perfect it was. Kelce was in disbelief and Madison looked like she regretted coming to the party. But rules were rules and also, people were too drunk to realize they had free will and could back out.

A perverse smile was slapped across your face, along with everyone else, at the sight of Kelce and Madison leaning in. Their breakup was the talk of the town as neither of them were the type to keep a low profile. The arguments in the streets to screenshots posted all over social media made this whole situation funnier.

The two leaned in and kissed each other for a split second before going right back to their spots. The group booed at the lack of commitment, but the ex-couple didn’t seem to care.

Madison’s turn.

The group once again glued their eyes to the spinning glass bottle. Your eyes wandered and took in everyone’s appearances— just a bunch of horny kooks, and you were no different. It had been a while since you’d got some action— or any proper action. It was embarrassing to admit but, technically, you were a virgin. You’d done everything but the big “P” for penetration— always interrupted. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t miss the closeness. Lips on your lips. Hands in your hair.

"Oh shit! Didn't know we'd get some girl-on-girl tonight!" A voice hollered from across the circle and you tuned back into the game.

Madison's bottle landed on Jade.

It was kind of perfect, actually. The one thing you remembered about Jade was how, one time in high school, you caught her checking you out after gym. You thought a lot about her after that— wondering what the curious stare meant back then.

Seeing her now—unflinching, ready to kiss Madison—confirmed your suspicions, and you mentally patted yourself on the back.

The two leaned in pressed their lips against one another. The crowd cheered and whistled as the girls got deeper into it. Your brows raised slightly as you were surprised at how long the kiss was. It was messy too— you could see a little tongue. Madison was practically swallowing Jade like she was trying to get any trace of Kelce off of her. You took a deep breath and looked away as you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks.

"Now that's what 'm talking about!"

The girls pulled away, sitting back down with shy smiles and flushed faces. They avoided each others' eyes and the group nudged them, finding the whole situation funny.

Jade's turn.

She spun the bottle without hesitation and stared at it intensely. She was quite attractive, with her dark hair and piercing eyes—so naturally, everyone was kind of hoping the bottle would choose them. You included. You laughed at the thought. God, I'm drunk.

The bottle began to slow its rotation and finally came to a halt. The loud, boisterous kooks somehow grew even louder and more boisterous. Your eyes trailed from the neck of the bottle to the legs of the person sitting cross-legged, up their torso, and finally to their face

Rafe Cameron.

The reaction of the crowd was understandable.

Rafe, Rafe, Rafe.

What to say about him?

He was the personification of the word "kook". During his teenage years, he was like a tyrant. Most people stayed out of his way because of his unpredictability and short fuse. You always tried to give him the benefit of the doubt considering how he was raised, but he didn't always make that so easy. With all this in mind, it's worth mentioning that now, as an adult, he was doing better. His belligerent days were behind him, and he had calmed down quite a bit. You don't remember the last time you heard of him beating someone bloody. Nowadays, when he'd come back from college, he'd work with his Father during the day, and let loose during the night. Still, you didn't forget about the person he was. No one did. Tensed shoulders and hushed whispers still arose at the mention of Rafe's name, and it would be a while before that changed.

Rafe was nonchalant. When the bottle landed on him, he held up his index and middle finger to motion for Jade to come closer to him. You watched with your Jell-O shot riddled mind— which had you thinking he was very sexy at that moment. Jade licked her lips and leaned forward on all fours— ready for it. Rafe's hand found the back of her neck and he pressed his lips to hers. The room erupted in cheers and you covered your ears at the volume. Your eyes stayed on Rafe and Jade and you shamelessly wondered how it would feel to kiss him. Despite his rough appearance, his lips were soft and pink.

They look delicious.

The kiss was short and clean. Nothing like the one before, and a part of you was surprised. Rafe pulled away first and sat back down, taking a swig of his drink.

Now you were a little intrigued— more alert. Moving your pupils side-to-side, you counted the heads in the circle and rounded up to about fifteen participants. There were also lots more people in the room, just as spectators, and they were at the edge of their seats. There was like a 7% chance that you’d be the one the bottle landed on— slim odds, but not impossible.

“I hope it doesn’t land on me,” Sofia whispers in your ear.

You nodded, even though you couldn’t really hear what she said over the drumroll sounding through the room.

Rafe held the bottle with his left hand and spun it with a sharp flick of the wrist. He stared at it closely. You wondered if he was mentally hoping that it would land on someone specific. There was no way to tell just by studying his face.

Again, the bottle began to slow down in momentum, and everyone knew it was going to choose the next participant soon. It was an exciting feeling— a lot more amplified during this round than the ones before. And that was the power of Rafe.

The bottle stopped spinning.

You looked at it and followed its path. You heard Sofia gasp right next to you.

The bottle pointed right between you and her.

The crowd groaned and then started weighing in on what should be done. Everyone talked over one another trying to reach a consensus.

All this over a game of spin the bottle.

You swallowed and looked across the circle at Rafe, whose eyes were already on you. It made you flinch in surprise and you quickly averted your gaze back to the bottle. You pretended to think about a way to solve the impossible equation.

Hmm, maybe he could spin again?

While you were busy pretending to look deep in thought, Rafe had already made up his mind. Ignoring all the opinions of those around him, he reached forward and shifted the bottle an inch so it was pointing directly at you.

Now you were the one gasping, as Sofia let out a sigh of relief.

Your eyes remained fixed on the bottle as the crowd got rowdy once again. Because this wasn’t as uneventful as a re-spin. No— this time, the bottle didn’t choose you.

Rafe did.

It felt like the first time ever in spin the bottle history for something like that to happen. And that’s why everyone was shouting, cheering, and feeling oh so lucky to be witnesses. Because now there were layers to this game. It raised questions. Like, why did he choose you over Sofia? Or, had he been hoping it would land on you all along?

Whatever it was, you didn’t have time to think about it right now. Because the game was still ongoing.

And this time, Rafe was the one moving closer. He was actually putting in the effort to come to you. This had you slightly impressed and also feeling a little funny. You felt Sofia pat you on the back as a sign of encouragement. So you slowly moved towards him too. Quickly running your tongue over your lips, you scooted forward and he met you before you got to the middle.

Impatient?

Eager?

Coming face-to-face with him was— and you don't say this lightly— breathtaking. You could sit there for days trying to find a flaw, and still come up short. He was simply perfect. With alluring eyes and pink lips, it was no surprise that everyone fawned over him all his life.

The group chanted your names like you guys were athletes or something. It had your veins coursing with adrenaline, and you weren't sure if you enjoyed that feeling or not. You were never used to being the centre of attention, but Rafe was. And that somehow comforted you.

Rafe did everything at his own pace—peer pressure never got to him. Finally, with a curl of his lip, he tilted his head and leaned forward, closing the distance. His lips met yours and he corrected his angle to better feel them. Your initial instinct was to freeze and just let him do all the work. But then you realized that this opportunity wouldn’t present itself again— it’s not like you’d want to be anywhere near Rafe when you’re sober. So why not make the most of it now, and give people a show?

Your blood alcohol content provided you with the boost that you needed. While Rafe took his time to suck on your bottom lip, you brought your hands to the sides of his cheeks and held him like he was the most precious artifact in the world. When he felt your touch, he moaned all breathy into the kiss—just for you to hear. You took that chance to deepen the kiss and swipe the inside of his mouth with your tongue, which he gladly welcomed.

The crowd’s cheers didn’t die down once. If anything, they got louder.

When you felt satisfied with your little risk of the day, you pulled back. Rafe, for a moment, had forgotten where he was and reflexively leaned forward to catch your missing touch. But when it wasn't there, he opened his eyes and noticed you’d sat back down at your spot. Topper reached forward and shook his shoulder, exclaiming, “dude, that was crazy!” Rafe just took a few seconds to catch his breath and then returned to his spot. His fingers kept finding his way back to his lips to settle the tingling feeling that was so prominent there.

You were out of breath too, but the game wasn’t over.

So you reached for the bottle to continue your turn. Grabbing it between your fingers and thumb, you gave it a hard spin and kneeled before it.

It was hard concentrating on the game after what you just did, and your thoughts were now filled with Rafe Cameron. Just as your mind was occupied with him, your eyes wanted to be included too. So you briefly look away from the bottle, and to Rafe, only to see him standing up and leaving. A few people seemed to ask him where he was going, but he just shook his head in response.

It was almost like he didn’t want to watch you kiss someone else.

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The morning, or afternoon, brought the blaring sun and a miserable hangover. You barely stumbled out of your bed at half past noon, and threw up on your way to the shower. The regret set in as the water hit your skin, and you cringed as your mind played a recap of the night.

Images of the party, the solo cups, and the wasted kooks all came flashing through when you closed your eyes. However, they shot open when you remembered the spin the bottle game.

Oh god. I full on made out with Rafe.

You weren’t sure how you felt about the whole situation. Sure, it was just a game and there was no need for further complication. But you weren’t the type to just kiss anyone at anytime. All the people you’d been with were ones you’d intended to pursue, and date, and all that. Seeing as how that was the last thing you wanted with Rafe, it was hard to wrap your head around the act of doing something so intimate with someone who you’d never really talk to again.

Is this what adulthood is?

Is this what hook-up culture is like?

You didn’t care for it. But it made things easier that the only two people you kissed last night were ones you wouldn’t cross paths with again.

After Rafe left, your next kiss was with Caleb. Yes, the Caleb that Sofia was praying she’d get. It made things quite awkward and you apologized profusely to her before, and after, you quickly gave him a peck. You earned boo’s from the crowd but you didn’t really care because your friendship came before all that. So Caleb was off the table, and back to being a stranger.

Rafe is the same too. Before last night, the only time you remembered interacting with him was during chemistry (which he was repeating), when you got partnered up for a lab. It was mostly forgettable besides the part where he made you do the whole experiment and lab report on your own, which had you furious. But he made up for it by presenting it to the class, knowing you were too shy to do so. Oh, and he’d also grab you the goggles and lab coat every time. So… that was quite nice of him.

Nevertheless, that was almost four years ago. Now you two went to different universities and lived different lives. He took the business route, and you took arts— couldn’t be more different. There was nothing to worry about then. Last night would blend in with the rest of the nights to come and, soon, you would forget the feeling of his lips on yours, and the quiet desperation he had for you.

Stepping out of the shower, you felt a lot better. Cold showers were the cure to everything.

You headed down to the kitchen, trying to satiate the growling of your stomach. The fridge was full of leftovers from last night that your mom so kindly packed up for you. It was a shame you were too nauseous to eat anything too heavy. So you stuck to some cold cereal and walked over to the table to begin eating.

A doorbell made you flinch and stand up. You peaked out the window and noticed a van had dropped off a package for you. Maybe it was those shoes you ordered two weeks ago. Finally some good news.

Walking over to the front door you opened it to see the shoes truly had arrived. You bent down to pick up the box and noticed a small envelope leaned against the wooden railing of the porch. It didn’t seem to have come with the shoes. No, they were placed too far apart. And this envelope had your name written on it. Not in any fancy letters, just simple penmanship.

You furrow your brows, pick up both things, and head into the house.

The shoes could wait now that your intrigue was stolen by the envelope. It was black too. You didn’t even know they made them in that colour.

Slowly and carefully, you slid your fingernails under the flap and lifted it, trying your best not to tear anything. It felt expensive.

Maybe it’s an invitation to midsummer.

No, but then Mom and Dad would’ve gotten one too.

After successfully opening it without any damage, you peaked inside. There was just a slip of paper. Not just your common printer paper though— this was thicker. Like card-stock.

Your index and thumb pinched the top of it and took it out of the envelope. One side, the side you saw first, was blank. The other just had a small message written on it.

“That was some kiss.”

You stared at the card and read the words over and over again until you were seeing them in between blinks. Who could possibly send such a thing? And why?

Was it Caleb?

It was Caleb, wasn’t it?

Fuck, this is all so wrong! He’s not yours to claim and you weren’t his. Sofia would be distraught and the thought of that made you feel like you could puke again.

You slam the card down, and grab your car keys. Time to pay Caleb a little visit to nip this in the bud.

All you knew about him was that he recently started working the morning shift at the Wreck. He should still be there if you drove fast enough.

You pulled into the parking space and marched into the restaurant like you were on a life or death mission— which is what it felt like in the moment.

Your head turned from side-to-side quickly as your eyes scanned the place. They zeroed in when you spotted him behind the counter. Your legs moved and dragged the rest of you along. You placed the envelope on the counter and waited for him to notice you.

“Y/N, hey, what can I getcha?” Caleb picked up the plate from the customer before you and walked it over to the kitchen in the back. He returned with a welcoming smile on his face.

“I’m not here to eat, Caleb.” You slid the envelope forward.

He furrowed his brows and looked down at it. “What’s this? Are you trying to bribe me or something?” He chuckles.

Look at him being all oblivious.

You narrow your eyes. “You know what it is. This- you can’t be sending me stuff like this.”

He was speechless, not having a clue of what you were on about. He looked down at the envelope again, then back at you and said, “Y/N, I have never seen this before. Ever.”

You scoff in disbelief. “At least own up to it— I mean come on! I came all the way here and—”

“Dude, I’ve been waiting for my sandwich forever.”

A voice cuts you off and steals Caleb’s attention. You turn to the sound and see Rafe behind you. Quickly you turn back and stare ahead, hoping he didn’t recognize you.

“Sorry, I’ll get on that.” Caleb shot Rafe an apologetic look and turned to you to quietly say, “promise I didn’t send you that.”

You weren’t sure if you trusted him. He could’ve just been too nervous to admit it. Maybe he wasn’t the confrontational type. Who knows?

With a sigh, and your head hung low, you walk out of the restaurant without glancing at anyone else.

If it was Caleb—and you knew it was—then your reaction would’ve made it clear to him that you weren’t into it. Which meant mission accomplished, because you only came to the Wreck to shut this down before it got out of hand.

On the drive home, there was still a feeling of dissatisfaction gnawing at you. Because, although, you were set on Caleb being the culprit, there was something about the sincerity in his voice that made you think otherwise.

He could've been a theatre kid— lots of time to perfect his acting.

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The next morning you were feeling a lot better without the life-altering hangover. To add to the great morning, you also woke up with zero thoughts of the mystery-of-the-card-giver— which sounded like poorly written Agatha Christie novel.

A new summer day came with so much potential, and so much daylight. You planned to run a few errands with your Dad and then catch a movie with Sofia. It was the perfect balance of productivity and relaxation, and you were ready to get on with it.

First on the list was picking your Dad up from the auto body shop a few blocks away. He had to leave his car with the mechanics because of a recent, harmless, fender bender.

You pull on your shorts and a band tee of a group you couldn't name three songs of, and head out the door. You stepped onto the porch and noticed a black box at the last minute, which made you stumble and roll your ankle. "Ow shit!" Leaning against the doorframe, you reached for your ankle and rubbed the area with the shooting pain. After trying, and failing, to massage that pain away, you let go and reached for the box.

You were already annoyed, and you had a feeling that the contents of this box would only exacerbate that. Holding it in your hands, it wasn't too heavy or too big. It was sleek, rectangular, and... velvet? So definitely not cheap.

Great.

You walked over to the porch swing and placed it in your lap.

What is Caleb's game here?

Pressing on the small golden button to make the lid pop up, you were gasping at the sight before you. A gold chain bracelet. You recognized the motifs on it— five of them. All four leaf clover shaped. Black. A vintage Van Cleef.

Holy shit these are like seven thousand dollars.

You felt like you had forgotten how to breathe. Quickly, you shut the box and place it next to you on the swing– afraid you'd break it.

Who in their right mind would carelessly spend money like this?

Caleb was rich, but not this rich. How could he shell out seven g's on you after just a peck that lasted like half a millisecond? He was clearly taking the whole "hopeless romantic" title too far.

Your phone buzzed and you checked to see that your Dad had texted you asking of your whereabouts. Snapping out of the daze, you put the box inside and leave for the auto body shop.

The whole day you felt a strange weight on your shoulders. Your love language wasn't receiving gifts, and so this made you very uncomfortable. The price too! You wouldn't accept it even if it was given to you by your husband of fifty years! (Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. But still.)

And the worst part was that you couldn't talk to Sofia about it as it would kill her.

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You got no sleep last night. Just tossing and turning as the bracelet stared at you from your nightstand. Eyeing you with its slick chain and shiny motifs. It was truly a sight to see and you were already starting to feel upset at the thought of parting with it.

So you decided to rip off the bandaid, and give it back to Caleb right away. Did you try it on a few times? Yes. Did you consider just keeping it because it was a gift for you and you deserved something nice? Yes.

But ultimately, the cost of the thing made you too nervous, and returning it was the right thing to do.

You were dressed for the day and ready to head out. Before opening the door, you took a deep breath and mentally prayed that there wouldn't be another expensive present awaiting you. You didn't know what you'd do if there was just a Rolls-Royce in your driveway. Mainly because you wouldn't know how to return it.

Unlocking the door, and opening it just a teeny bit, you peaked your head out and looked down.

Shit.

Another box. This one was square shaped and it had a small envelope attached.

Where does Caleb find the time?

You reluctantly picked it up and brought it inside. A few moments of mental debate began to take place as you couldn’t decide whether to open it or not. What if you got too attached?

The envelope sat there on your coffee table and you were dreading the thought of another flirtatious line. You thought you had been stern with Caleb the other day. And yet here was evidence that your plan had backfired.

You bite the bullet and tear open the envelope without a care this time. Inside was a small note again.

“For your pretty neck.”

You furrow your brows and notice your stomach felt funny. You turn to the box, finally, and open it to find a matching necklace to your bracelet. Oh my. Oh no. Oh, this has gone too far.

Hitting up the Wreck twice in three days was rare for you. You typically didn’t like going there because of potential run-ins with old classmates you felt awkward around. But this was important stuff! You were being showered with expensive jewelry! And it had to stop.

On your angry march into the restaurant, you were mentally rehearsing a long and scary speech you’d say to Caleb. Drop words like “impermissible” and “cease!”

“Didn’t like the necklace, huh?”

You froze. It felt like the Looney Toons when a character was sprinting with smoke coming from their legs and then stop with that horrible tire screeching sound. A chill ran up your back because that voice… that voice didn’t belong to Caleb. No. It belonged to Rafe. You stood there for a few seconds, right in front of the doors. Then you took a deep breath, and turned around to Rafe who was standing behind you.

A million things could’ve been said but for some reason you settled on, “what— uhm— what’re you talking about?”

You flinched from surprise when he let out a short, but genuine, laugh.

“You know what.” He crosses his arms over his chest and quirks his brow at you.

Before you could respond, your phone rang in your pocket. You look down and fish out your phone, shooting him an apologetic look. It was Sofia.

When you glanced back up, Rafe had walked off with Kelce. And you were left with your hummingbird heartbeat and Sofia’s voice ranting about another annoying incident involving her coworker.

Her words went in one ear, and out the other. The only thing you could think about right now was how it was Rafe all along. The note. The jewelry.

For your pretty neck.

What in the actual hell.

You had never thought to suspect him because you didn’t think he actually had… feelings? Like human emotions? Like did he actually want you to like him? Was he capable of longing for a person? Unless that’s not what this was— maybe he just wanted to get laid. In the midst of this busy schedule, he probably didn’t have much time to get his rocks off. And maybe that’s why he needed you. To be there as a stress reliever. And he most likely thought you’d be more than up for it considering the way you kissed him. Like it was your last day on earth. Practically sucking face.

Oh god.

Later that night you laid on your bed and stared at the ceiling. There were too many questions on your mind. Along with those, of course, was a fluttering feeing in your stomach. Because even though you didn’t know his intentions, a part of you felt like you were actually being pursued. Like your attention was a valuable prize. A goal.

But this had already gone too far. And you couldn’t bear the thought of seeing something else on your doorstep tomorrow morning.

Maybe I should just stop leaving the house.

You shake your head and knock some sense into yourself. It’s time to take matters into your own hands! Sure, in person, you couldn’t get a word out to Rafe because of his intimidating presence (and hot face). But you could shoot him a text. There was more confidence behind the screen without his eyes swallowing you up.

You grab your cellphone.

You stood up and paced around your bedroom. Okay, all you have to do is send a strongly-worded text. Words. On a screen. You’ll be fine! It’s just a text! It’s not like he can reach through the screen and touch you, right? That kind of technology wouldn't come into existence overnight.

You took deep breaths as you typed his phone number into your cell. Okay. Okay. You can do this. Words on a screen. Words. Letters.

You stared at the message in horror, but sent it anyway. Why in the world were you texting like you needed a moment to talk about your lord and saviour Jesus Christ?

Why did you get so formal when you texted strangers? He’s going to think you’re the same goody-two-shoes all those years ago in chem class. But also, you didn’t need his approval. To be honest, you wanted nothing to do with Rafe. He was a big guy in many ways— his big personality, big presence, big impact. You weren’t sure you could handle it— or that you wanted to. You were quite content with the small circle of people in your life who helped maintain the peace. And Rafe? Rafe is… havoc.

But you also never knew he could be so smooth. All those years of girls chasing him you never thought it was because he had something to offer.

Clearly, you missed out.

The cell phone flew across the room and hit your headboard, plopping into the thin crevice between it and the mattress. His last text clearly had some sort of physical effect on you to the point where you thought that destroying your phone to bits would be better than responding.

Maybe this was a joke. Like a dare. Oh, that would be so cruel— but that was more up his alley, than being this sweet and generous loverboy.

You didn’t want to keep living in this fever dream, so you decided it was best to just call it a night.

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Day four.

You thought that after the text exchange last night, there would be a pause, a hesitance, a break.

But it seemed that Rafe only decided to crank things up. He didn’t see your texts as a sign to back down—no— he saw them as a challenge— to see how far he can push you; see how much you could take.

Outside your doorstep lay a large bouquet of tulips— red tulips. Knowing a little something about flowers and symbolism from English class during your senior year— these indicated love.

Love.

But maybe it wasn’t on purpose. Maybe they were just the first ones he laid his eyes on.

Attached was another note, and another box.

You shut your eyes tight hoping that you were just imagining things. But when you opened them again, the sight hadn’t changed.

Your muscle memory kicked in, and you carried all the presents inside, into the living room. You laid them on the coffee table and dissected each gift one by one.

The box, first.

It was smaller, like one for a ring. Which scared you— because rings could mean many things. Marriages, promises, friendships. None of which applied to you and Rafe.

The velvet box popped open and your assumptions were proven correct. A gold ring to match the necklace and bracelet. You stared at your reflection in the four leaf clover motif.

Your hands trembled and you took out the note next.

“Don’t freak out… just wanted to compliment the set.”

It was like he read your mind. Yes, it’s not like this was a proposal— no, this was a dire fashion choice.

Today was a busy day for you, unfortunately. You didn’t have time to show up at his door and talk some sense into him.

But then again, he clearly didn’t back down when you called him out. So maybe the best way to deal with this is to ignore him.

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By the fifth day—and your lack of reaction to the ring—Rafe was a little more desperate. After the last gift, he’d been sure you’d reach out and scold him like a Sunday school teacher. Which, disturbingly, he found kind of hot and made a mental note to bring up with a professional. Still, he was Rafe Cameron, and when he wanted something, he’d stop at nothing to get it. Nothing. So your silence didn’t make him recoil—it only enticed him more.

Like clockwork, you opened your front door and looked down on the porch.

A box and a note.

More fucking red tulips.

You picked them up and brought them inside. There was only one vase in your entire house which was already occupied by yesterday’s flowers.

The box contained a pair of earrings to match the set. You almost felt dizzy when you mentally calculated the total cost of all his gifts.

Earrings were your favourite accessory and the longer you stared at them, the harder it was to resist putting them on and strutting around your living room.

Next, the note.

“Playing hard to get?

Makes me want you more.”

You read the words again, and again, and again. They made you feel something— a feeling you couldn’t pinpoint.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, opening up your text messages.

Rolling your eyes, you toss your phone aside and got on with your day. You weren’t the type of person whose life is upended because of some guy.

Yeah, he’s just a guy— a guy who’s given you almost twenty thousand dollars worth of gifts without blinking. A guy who has been complimenting and pursuing you like his life depended on it. A guy who's making you feel wanted for the first time in a long time.

You take a deep breath, it’ll all blow over in a few days.

.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._

Oh, how wrong your were.

You audibly gasped when you opened your front door the next day. It seemed that Rafe had run out of accessory ideas, because all there was on your porch was an envelope full of cash. You jumped and picked it up and brought it inside, immediately locking the door. Flipping it over, you read his messy handwriting you'd become so familiar with.

"Does this count as an atrocity or generosity?"

Smoke was coming out of your ears and you were red with a mixture of rage, humiliation, and fucking butterflies.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins had you stomping towards your car with all his gifts, or debts, in hand and placing them in the passenger seat. You were slamming doors left, right, and centre trying to make a statement, but when it came to the gifts, you gently wrapped a seatbelt around them. It disrupted your flow, but your bank account couldn't take the hit if anything was damaged.

White-knuckling the steering wheel all the way to Tannyhill, you took shallow breaths and practiced your assertive voice.

Today it would all end. Finally.

When you pulled up to the house, you noticed Rafe was outside, on the grass, speaking into his cellphone. Without a care in the world, you drove up his driveway and noticed his brows shoot up, wondering who you were. Then when you got out of the car, frantically, his brows returned to their spot and a smirk settled across his face.

You slammed the door and walked up to him with the envelope of cash clutched in your hand. He hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket, without saying goodbye.

"What is this?" The assertive voice went out the window, and instead you sounded shrill. But Rafe didn't seem to mind at all— if anything, he was intrigued... and a little turned on.

He looked from your eyes, to your lips, and then to the envelope. "Generosity?"

You clicked your tongue in frustration and responded, "this isn't funny! I told you to stop."

He was about to say something, but you cut him off and began pacing on the lawn.

"— and this? Cash? Are you insane? What if someone saw? They'd think I was a drug dealer or something!" You ran your hand through your hair almost ripping it out of your scalp.

"No one would think that." He shrugged.

You stared at him like he grew a second head.

"Is that the only thing you took away from what I said?" The vein in your forehead was about to pop.

"No, I heard the whole thing— but I just had to let you know that you don't give off the drug dealer vibe."

"Oh!" You let out a short, hysterical laugh. "Oh, that is so good to know. I'm so glad we got that cleared up." You exclaimed with biting sarcasm.

Rafe was finding you more entertaining than any TV show he'd binged in the past, well, ever. He could watch you all day and listen to you yell at him for an embarrassingly long time.

He finally spoke up with the question he'd been meaning to ask since the night of spin the bottle.

"Go out with me."

You halted in your maniacal pacing— you were sure you'd dug a hole in his lawn at this point. You looked up at him with eyes basically bulging out of your head.

"What?" Your voice reached a pitch that only a dog could hear.

He chuckled, "go out with me."

He couldn't have been real. What human being was this shameless and infuriating? If you had told yourself last week that the Rafe Cameron would be acting like a lovesick child for you, you'd laugh and laugh until you fainted.

You scoffed in disbelief and replied, "are you serious?" You scoffed again and then just gasped like you were out of breath. "What— you— what? You think you can just buy my affection?"

His amused eyes never left you once. He didn't blink— not wanting to miss even a second of this conversation with you.

"No, but I can buy your attention right? Because," he smiled and stepped closer, "you're here."

Without hesitation, you took a step back and distanced yourself, to Rafe's dismay. But he was patient when it came to you, so he stayed still.

You were speechless. How does one respond to that?

He tilts his head, "cat got your tongue?"

You shake your head, "I only came buy to return everything to you. Nothing more."

With that, you head towards your car and bring out the stack of boxes from the passenger seat. You walk back to him to hand them off. But he doesn't budge, instead just putting his hands in his pockets with a smug look.

What a little—

"Rafe." You say sternly.

He loved the way his name rolled off your tongue.

"Y/N." He mimics your tone.

You sigh and hold the boxes out again, "please. I can't accept them."

He shakes his head, "I bought them for you. I'm not taking anything back."

With a groan you reply, "I don't want them! I- I don't want this— whatever this is— between us."

Rafe was slightly discouraged with your words, but he told himself that you were just desperate, and would say anything to convince him. He knew a little something about that.

Light bulb.

"Okay," he crosses his arms over his chest.

You blink surprised, "okay?"

He nods, "I'll take them back if you go out with me—"

You roll your eyes and exhale heavily, but he continues.

"— just one date. One dinner. And I'll prove to you that you do want this— whatever this is— between us."

"Rafe, there's no point in going through all that hassle—"

"One dinner. And if by the end you still— for some reason— aren't completely in love with me, then I'll leave you alone."

You paused and narrowed your eyes at him. "Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that," he nods.

This is it. This was your shot.

"Deal."

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This was initially supposed to be one-shot but got wayyy too long!! But there will be another part to this soon!

Thank you for reading <33

Let me know if there's anything specific you'd like to see in the second part as I'm still brainstorming what should happen :)))

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katieshook02 · 5 hours ago

Text

teachers pet pt. 2

brothers best friend!rafe x thornton!fem!virgin!reader

cw — minors dni, kissing, handjob, oral (m receiving), reader is very innocent, stereotypical girly room and such

summary — after going on your date, you decide its time to learn more.

authors note — part one can be read here! please request and interact <33 edit: y’all this lowk escaped me… its kinda long :)

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

enzo had done everything right. he picked you up from your house, opened your car door for you, offered to buy you food or get you whatever drink you wanted, everything you hoped a man would do for you someday.

you felt yourself smiling at all times and laughing at each of his jokes. it was going perfect. until it wasn’t.

you were currently in enzo’s room, sat across him on his bed like you had been with rafe last night. except this time, you didn’t feel nervous. there were no butterflies in your stomach. nothing. you liked him though, you knew you did.

and when his lips finally hit yours, his lips were chapped and the kiss itself was sloppy, wet, and gross. your body cringed at it. he wasn’t slow or delicate with you, he was just slobbering all over your mouth. you could feel the cold air hitting the glob of spit he left on your chin.

he didn’t taste like your favorite fruit like rafe did. no, he tasted like whatever his last meal had been. it made you want to gag. and his face wasn’t shaved clean like rafe’s was. he had a slight stubble that made your skin itch. it was almost guaranteed that’d you breakout tomorrow.

he didn’t make you feel like rafe did. he didn’t pull any noises from you, didn’t ask if you were okay with what he was doing or anything. it didn’t sit well with you.

and when he tried to pull you into his lap and squeeze at your bottom, you made up some excuse about how your stomach hurt and you wanted to go home. he was dumb enough to actually believe you.

even when he offered to drive you home, you still called rafe to come pick you up instead considering your brother was out with ruthie and probably would’ve killed you when he found out where you were. and he came. he always did.

“how was your little date?” he asked, one hand slung over the wheel while the weight of his other arm was placed on center console. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was jealous.

you shifted in your seat slightly, gaze fixed on what was passing through the window. “it was fine.”

he glanced at you and noticed your unreadable expression. “what happened? wasn’t everything you dreamed it would be?” his voice was teasing.

it pissed you off. so you shrugged. “not really.”

something about your short answers was putting him off. his hand came to gently pat your thigh, trying to get your attention back on him. “seriously, what happened?” he asked. “he do somethin’ to you?”

you shook your head. “no, the date was good.” the heat of his hand resting on your skin made you shiver.

he gave you a slight nod and pulled into your driveway. “so what was wrong with the kiss?”

“he didn’t kiss like you,” you admitted, too tired to keep going back and forth with him. “it was all sloppy and gross.”

if you were looking at him, you would’ve caught the smug look on his face. “that right?” he asked, his voice smooth and low. “why’d you call me instead of letting him drive you home? thought you liked him.”

“i do,” you snapped back. truly, you just wanted to spend a little time with rafe. also the fact that enzo had made you slightly uncomfortable. “i just wanted to get home fast and you were the best option. i didn’t expect you to give me an entire interview though.”

he smirked and chuckled under his breath. “jus’ checking on you. making sure he didn’t put his hands on you or anything.”

your gaze sharpened at him. “can i go now?” you asked bitterly.

his hand retracted from you leg, making your skin feel oddly cold now, and he turned his car back on. “go ahead.”

a scoff left your lips and you opened up your door, stepping out. “thanks.” the door shut, a little harder than you would’ve liked, then you headed towards your front door.

as always, he waited for you to get inside then drove off towards his own house. annoyed was an understatement of how you were currently feeling.

and when enzo texted you the next week, saying he enjoyed your time together so much so that he wanted to do it again soon, you didn’t feel excited. no butterflies, no blushing, no kicking your feet, nothing.

you still said yes for some reason. maybe it was the idea of him wanting you. or maybe it was that you could use this as an excuse to get rafe to teach you some more.

so you waited patiently. you began painting your fingernails and toes a pretty shade of pink, fixing up your hair, and putting on some black flare leggings with a baby pink cropped t-shirt.

topper and his two best friends finally arrived around 7 pm, pizza boxes in hand along with cases of beer and a bottle of hard alcohol. you came down the staircase, watching curiously.

rafe was the first to look at you, his eyes scanning up and down your body then smirking to himself and turning back to whatever he was doing.

then your brother finally noticed you. “hey,” he called out. “if you want something, help yourself before its all gone.”

you headed over to where the food was. and of course, rafe was standing right in front of it. your eyes wandered over to where the other two boys were, finding that they were completely enamored by the baseball game going on.

so you slide between rafe and the countertop, your backside pressed flush to his front, leaned up and forward on your tip toes to grab a slice. the action made you press into him further.

and when you stepped out from the position and glanced up at him, he was already staring down at you. his eyes her dark, lips slightly parted, and his chest rising and falling a little quicker than it should’ve. you grinned to yourself and headed back up to your room to eat.

a couple of hours had passed now. from what you’d gathered, ruthie was over, which meant toppers full attention was on her. this gave you an idea. you pulled out your phone and found rafe’s contact.

you:

wyd

three dots appeared almost instantly.

rafe:

watching a movie

you:

where are the other three?

rafe:

top and ruthie are in his room

kelce is sleeping

you began to smile, knowing your plan would work. your fingers hovered above the keyboard for a second as you thought.

you:

come to my room

i’m bored and i need help

you set your phone down almost immediately, a little embarrassed and scared of what he was gonna say. except you didn’t get a reply, only a soft knock at your door before it was being pushed open and rafe was entering.

he glanced around the walls like he hadn’t been inside multiple times over the years as he walked over and sat on your bed, already getting comfortable. “so. what’d you need my help with?”

“i have a date with enzo soon,” you blurted out, fidgeting with your fingers.

his eyes rolled. “are you fucking serious?” he asked, though there was no real bite in his words. “i thought you didn’t like it the last time.”

you shrugged. “i liked the date. he just wasn’t a good kisser.”

“and that makes you want to go further with him?” he asked, brows furrowed. his tone was almost teasing. “shoving his tongue down your throat and all over your face really turned you on?”

a look of disgust flickered over your face. “no. that’s gross, rafe,” you mumbled. “i guess i just like that he wants me. it’s nice to have someone like you for once.”

he sighed and shook his head. there was no way you were being serious. “sweetheart, i’m sure there’s a hundred other guys that want you. i can think of at least five who like you,” he replied. “you don’t need to lower your standards for some dude who doesn’t know what he’s doing just to feel something.”

“so you’re saying i should go for someone like yourself who knows what they’re doing?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

a smirk grew across his lips and he leaned further back into your bed. his eyes never left yours. “all i’m saying is that you should explore other options. i get it, i really do. you like the guy and want to be ‘good for him,’ whatever the fuck that means, but you shouldn’t have to think like that about the dude you’re trying to date. they should be grateful to have the opportunity to teach you shit like that.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat and glanced down at your hands. hearing this, especially from rafe who never really gives a fuck about anything, made your stomach turn. “i just don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“i don’t think it’s embarrassing. if they can’t accept the fact that you’re a virgin, what else are they not gonna accept about you?” he asked. “he’s a fuckin’ loser if he makes you feel like you’re not good enough. and if the next couple of dates are only gonna consist of you going to his house to do shit, i think that tells you all you need to know about him.”

you let out a soft chuckle. “wow. i didn’t know you felt so strongly about all this,” you half-teased. part of it warmed you heart that he cared so much.

rafe shrugged, that same lazy grin returning across his lips. “you’re a beautiful girl. you’re smart, funny, loyal,” he complimented. “you’re stupid if you think you need to settle for some douche who doesn’t see that and only wants to get in your pants.”

you let your body fall back dramatically, your head hitting the pillow and your hands resting over your bare stomach. as much as you hated to admit it, he was really making you think about your choices.

“but hey, i’m not here to be your dad. just your teacher,” he butted in when he noticed your mind going a mile per minute. he always noticed things like that. “so if you wanna keep going, that’s up to you.”

a deep sigh left your lips as you thought. even if it wasn’t for enzo, you still wanted to learn. just in case something were to happen. “i want to.”

his chin was now propped up on his the palm of his hand as he watched you intently. “what’s today’s lesson?”

you internally gagged at thinking about having to say it out loud. “i wanna know how to please someone.”

rafe wanted to laugh at how awkwardly you said it, like saying it too loud would get you locked up for life. but for you, he didn’t. he just nodded and sat upright.

he motioned for you to come closer until you were sitting right in front of him. “relax,” he stated, noticing how tense you looked. “you don’t have to be perfect, there’s not an instruction manual or anything for these things. just feel it out. we’ll just go slow.”

you took a much needed deep breath. “okay.”

he flashed you a soft reassuring smile before his hand found the small of your back to pull you a little closer and the other came up to cradle your jaw. “just kiss me to start. go slow. exactly like i taught you. let your hands roam, ok?”

you nodded and leaned in slow enough to let the tension build. he met you halfway and pressed his lips to yours, soft and gentle. it made you smile.

your hands started by running over his buzz, the short hair tickling your fingers before slowly trailing down to his shoulders and resting there.

the hand that was on your waist began to pull you forward until you were seated in your lap like the week prior. you felt fireworks in your stomach again.

you pulled away breathlessly. “did you lock the door?”

“mhm,” he hummed and kissed you again, like the time that his lips weren’t on yours was physically painful.

you chuckled against his lips and let your hands trace down his chest and to his stomach. they tugged at the bottom of his shirt. he took the hit and pulled away briefly to pull it over his head.

part of you thought you might be drooling. you’d seen him shirtless countless times but something about being this close to him felt different.

his lips were back on yours like he couldn’t get enough and your nails were gently scratching over his abs, making him groan softly and his body shudder. once the surge of confidence flowed through you, your hips began to move slowly.

you could feel that he was already hard beneath you and you’d be lying if you said the friction wasn’t making your underwear dampen slightly. carefully without breaking rhythm, you crawled off his lap and rested your hands on his thighs.

“what do i do now?” you asked, big eyes looking up at him.

he thought he might be in heaven right now. it was almost unreal to have you like this, sitting between his legs with your hands so close to wear he needed you most. it took him a second to gather his thoughts. “jus’ start over clothes. over my pants, boxers, whichever you want. and whenever you’re ready, you can go under it.”

“can you guide me?” you questioned shyly. truthfully, you were terrified. rafe would never judge you. ever. but you still wanted to be good. to actually please him.

he nodded, his pupils blown wide with something other than lust, his cheeks and lips a pretty shade of pink. “whatever you want baby,” he mumbled, his voice low and smooth.

his lips were back on yours, his movements a little more passionate as one of his hands rested just above your knee and the other grabbed yours from his thigh and gently brought it over himself.

he aided you in slowly palming over sweats, feeling the imprint of him. it made you clench your thighs. you’d never done anything like this, never felt a man this intimately, never even watched porn and seen one naked.

you could hear his breath quicken a little and his thigh tense under your other hand. the two of you stayed like this for a minute or two, just working him over his pants while his tongue danced with yours.

once you began to feel a little more comfortable, your hand dipped under his waistband and over his boxers. soft little whimpers and occasional moans slipped past his lips when your hand began to repeat the motion he’d just taught you slowly over the thin fabric.

he felt huge and thick. you were certain he was more than average. when your friends would talk about the guys they’d hook up with, they never described one being this big.

he pulled away from your lips for a second, his eyes closed and his forehead resting against yours. “fuck. you’re doin’ so good,” he mumbled, a little out of breath. the hand that wasn’t on you was by his thigh, squeezing the sheets in his fist. “doin’ okay?”

“mhm,” you responded. “i’m ready to do more.”

a smile graced his lips, a little sense of pride surging through him. “tell me what you wanna do, sweet girl.”

normally, you would’ve died from embarrassment from what you were about to say. but the noises you were pulling from rafe made you feel a little more confident. “i wanna taste you.”

he closed his eyes again, the hand that was on your thigh subconsciously squeezed a little. he felt like he’d just died and actually went to heaven.

once he gave you the go, you laid on your stomach between his legs to make yourself comfortable while he sat up against your headboard in nothing but his boxers. him resting against the pink flower vines behind him accompanied by the fairy lights made you giggle to yourself. this tall, muscular, beautiful man in your pink bed surrounded by flowers and soft yellow lighting.

“what’s so funny?” he asked playfully, a smile of his own on his lips.

you shook your head quickly but still smiling like an idiot. “nothing.”

he returned the infectious grin, but was immediately cut off when you started palming him over his boxers again. he muttered some instructions as he tried to hold back his noises of pleasure and helped you take off his boxers.

you froze. he exceeded your expectations. part of you was expecting to be grossed out but you were so unbelievably turned on. an almost uncomfortable knot formed in your stomach at the sight of him. it made you want to do things to him that would be concerning to the rest of society.

“we can stop if you want,” he said, breaking the silence. “just say the word.”

you shook your head a little too quickly. “no. i wanna keep going.” you followed the instructions he’d given you moments ago and took him into your hand. he was warm, heavy, and thick. your heart was beating out of your chest and you could only hope he didn’t notice your shaky hands.

leaning down towards him, you licked from base to tip, sending a shiver up his spine. your hand followed and slowly stroked the length of him.

he brought his hand down to yours and closed it around him slightly tighter. “just a little more pressure,” he suggested, closing his eyes and tipping his head back when you followed the instruction as you pumped him again and licked at his tip. “oh my fuck.”

your heart swelled a little at that. your lips came to press a few soft kisses to the sensitive skin before slowly taking him into your mouth. the moan he let out was heavenly. you wished you could’ve recorded it.

rafe adjusted so he could look at you again, one of his hands coming down to collect all of your hair and hold it away from your face for you. “so good baby. doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

you moaned around him, making him twitch in your mouth, and took him a little deeper. your hand took care of whatever you mouth couldn’t. his hand in your hair gripped it a little tighter while the one that was still holding onto the sheets was practically white from squeezing so hard.

once you began to get a little more sure in your actions, you started to move a little faster. you could see him abs flexing and a pretty blush creeping up his neck.

back when you were in your dorm with your roommates before summer break, you’d remembered them talking about things like this. something about how their secret weapon was to massage their balls to get them to finish faster. hearing it then used to make your entire body cringe. thinking about it now though, what harm could it do? it was just rafe, he wouldn’t judge you. so you did exactly that.

rafe was sure he was dead and in heaven now. he didn’t want to overwhelm you so he intentionally left that little step out. but having you do it on your own? he was done for. he’d never come this quickly. if you knew any better, he’d be extremely embarrassed.

it wasn’t even just the physical pleasure. it was you. the way your eyes hadn’t left his unless they closed momentarily, the way they were glossed over, your soft hands and lips, your perfectly painted nails, everything about you.

his muscles tensed and he tugged on your hair a little tighter. “fuck, sweetheart. makin’ me feel so good,” he praised. “‘m gonna come.”

you’d also heard from your roommates about how they always swallowed, how it turned on their boyfriends like crazy. you never really understood what that meant until right now. and you were determined to do the same.

“you can— shit,” he stuttered, moaning when you pulled off of him to breathe. “you can stop if you want.”

your hand sped up just the tiniest bit. “don’t want to,” you mumbled, kissing the underside of his cock repeatedly. “unless you want me to.”

he closed his eyes once more, trying to find it in himself to not come at this very second. “whatever you want, angel.”

you loved that he gave you so much control.

so you took him back into your mouth and began to work him a little quicker while your free hand gently massaged his balls. it wasn’t much longer until he was shooting ropes of warm liquid onto your tongue. it wasn’t like anything you’d ever tasted but you surely didn’t hate it.

after a couple moments of panting and rafe coming down from his high, he grabbed your hands and gently pulled you back into his lap. his lips immediately found yours with soft pecks. “you did fucking amazing,” he mumbled against your neck, laying more kisses to it. “i’m so proud of you, pretty girl.”

he so badly wanted to give you a fat hickey so everyone else would stay away. so enzo would get the fucking hint and leave you alone and he could have you all to himself.

hi guys i hope you’re enjoying!! i’m planning to make a couple more parts and maybe turn this into an au??? lmk if you guys are interested

teachers pet taglist —

@sublimepenguinpeach-blog

170 notes · View notes

katieshook02 · 5 hours ago

Note

Shy reader in different stages of pregnancy!

Growing With Us

Rafe Cameron x Shy! Reader

Summary: 3 different moments and blurbs from her and Rafes pregnancy.

When she first saw the two faint lines on the test, her heart flew right out of her chest.

Tears pricked her eyes—happy ones of course —as she clutched the little plastic stick in trembling hands. A smile tugged at her lips, growing wider by the second. She couldn’t keep it in, not for another minute. She bolted out of the bathroom and down the stairs, barefoot and breathless, her heart thudding with joy and almost tripping a couple times.

Rafe barely had time to look up from his phone before she launched herself into his arms.

“Woah, woah! What’s going on, baby?” he laughed, catching her easily and wrapping his arms around her waist to steady her.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes glassy and glowing. “We’re having a baby.”

Rafe froze for a moment before his face cracked into the biggest grin she’d ever seen. He laughed, almost in disbelief, and then kissed her so hard she nearly forgot how to breathe.

It was the best day of their lives. The happiest moment in their relationship. The kind of joy that felt too big to keep quiet.

But now… now it felt like they had no one to share it with.

The first time they tried, it ended in an awkward silence.

It had been a warm, breezy afternoon at the country club. Rafe was out on the golf course with a few guys, and she was watching from the patio, sipping iced tea and twirling her ring around her finger. A few girls she knew, girls she’d started to think of as friends actually, joined her at the table. She greeted them with a bright smile, exciqtement practically pouring off her, a clear contrast to her usually shy demeanor.

But underneath the glow was a feeling of nervousness. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap, picking at the skin around her nails. Still, she was ready. She wanted this moment.

“I…um… I wanted to tell you guys first, before anyone else,” she said, her voice light but hopeful.

The three girls sat up, curious smiles forming.

“What’s up?” one asked.

“Don’t tell me Rafe bought you another Porsche,” another joked, nudging her playfully.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “No, no. It’s actually bigger than that.” She paused, took a breath for a dramatic effect. “We’re pregnant.”

She beamed, waiting for their reactions, her hands folded tightly in her lap to keep them from shaking any harder than they already were.

But instead of cheers or squeals, the table went quiet. Dead quiet.

One of the girls blinked, then let out a chuckle. “Oh my god—that was good! I actually believed you for a second there.”

The others started laughing too, not meanly, but not kindly either. It was the kind of laughter that came from disbelief, from brushing something off without really even listening.

Her smile faltered. “Um… actually, I’m being serious.”

The laughter died almost immediately. And then came the awkward shifting in seats. The exchanged glances. The forced “Oh… wow” and half-hearted “congrats” that followed.

It stung more than she expected. More than she wanted to admit.

So she sat there, trying to pretend it didn’t bother her, that their reactions didn’t chip away at the joy she’d been carrying now. But later that night, when Rafe came home and saw her curled up on the couch with red-rimmed eyes and a forced smile, she couldn’t hide it anymore.

And in that moment, all the excitement they’d felt seemed to dim just a little—because it wasn’t that they weren’t happy. They were. So, so happy.

They just weren’t sure who else was.

The second time it happened, she hadn’t expected it to hurt even more than the first.

They were at one of the annual Cameron Foundation benefits—an extravagant affair held under soft golden lights, with servers weaving through the crowd holding fancy glasses of champagne and trays of seafood canapés. She still wasn’t used to it—the whirlwind of socialites, politicians, and old-money families who seemed to glide across marble floors like they owned the air around them. They probably did now that she thought about it.

She felt small here. Not in the physical sense, not with Rafe’s arms wrapped securely around her waist from behind, but in that invisible way people could make you feel with just one glance.

He was always her anchor at these things, her calm in a room full of judgmental rich sharks. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to her temple as they stood near the grand fireplace, and she instinctively leaned back into his chest.

He smelled like cedar wood and had a hint of orange along with something else that always gave her comfort.

“You doing okay?” he murmured low against her ear.

She gave a small nod and a smile, fingers fidgeting with the delicate charm bracelet he’d given her last Christmas. “Just staying close.”

Before he could reply, an older couple began approaching them with warm smiles—way too wide to be genuine.

The woman wore a glittering necklace that probably cost more than her parent’s house, her hair sculpted into perfect waves. The man’s tuxedo was crisp and immaculate, his posture proud in that stiff, country-club kind of way. They looked familiar—family friends of the Camerons, the kind of people Rafe grew up nodding politely at events like this.

“Rafe!” the older woman gushed, reaching out to touch his arm. “My goodness, the last time I saw you, you were still in diapers! Look at you now—so grown up and handsome.”

Rafe gave her a tight, polite smile. It was a little humorous to watch him suck up to these people. “Good to see you again, Mrs. Riker.”

The woman’s eyes drifted toward her, still tucked in Rafe’s hold. She straightened a little, trying to seem confident under the woman’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Ah,” the man chimed in, eyes squinting with mild recognition. “You must be the fiancée.”

She smiled politely, extending her hand. “Nice to meet you both.”

The woman let out a high-pitched tsk and grinned. “You two are just the cutest thing. What’s next, then? Wedding bells and a honeymoon in the Alps?”

It seemed lighthearted, but there was a gleam in her eye that felt too pointed. Like somehow she already knew.

Rafe tightened his hold on her waist just slightly, his fingers now resting protectively on her stomach. He glanced down at her with that soft look he always wore when he talked about the baby. She felt it then—that glow again, rising in her chest, the joy she wanted to share with the whole world.

He cleared his throat and looked back at the couple. “Actually,” he said, his voice quiet but steady, “we’re expecting.”

Her breath caught when he said it. He laced their fingers together in front of her, calming her in that one, beautiful truth.

But across from them, the smiles froze.

It wasn’t immediate—but the air changed. Subtle but chilly.

The woman blinked, lips parted in what might have been surprise—or disgust. The man cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh,” he said. “Well… uh, that’s… wonderful news, Rafe. Congratulations.” She found it weird how the man only congratulated Rafe.

But it didn’t sound like congratulations. Not really. It was stiff and insincere, like he was reading off a teleprompter he didn’t actually believe in.

Her heart dropped.

It was happening again. Only this time Rafe would experience it.

She kept smiling, though it had fallen at the edges. Her hand in Rafe’s tightened without her even realizing it. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes stung. Behind her, she felt his body go rigid.

He leaned forward slightly, his chin brushing her shoulder. “Yeah,” he said, his voice edged with quiet warning now. “We’re real excited.”

She could hear the shift in him. The defensive tone. The disappointment buried beneath his words, cloaked in a sarcastic kind of cheer. He didn’t like being patronized—and he especially didn’t like when she was the one being judged.

The woman let out a tight, polite laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, aren’t you two just full of surprises. Still… aren’t you a bit young for children, sweetheart?” she said, her voice saccharine, sweetened to hide the meaning. “I mean, you’re not even married yet.”

The words landed like a slap.

Her mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out.

Rafe moved fast—almost unrecognizable, but sure. He stepped forward, carefully angling himself between her and the couple. Not that they would do any physical harm towards her, just to protect her from their words. His grip on her hand never loosened. His smile was gone now, replaced with a cold calm that only people who knew Rafe well would recognize as dangerous.

“We’ve got it handled,” he said flatly. “Thanks for your concern.”

There was a long pause, just long enough to be uncomfortable, before the older man offered a dismissive chuckle and muttered something about needing to say hello to the Wilsons— even though they had already left. The two walked away with fake smiles and whispered parting words, leaving a heavy silence in their wake.

She didn’t say anything for a moment. She just stood there, heart pounding, the joy she had felt moments before dissolving into something tight and aching in her chest.

Rafe turned her gently in his arms, his hands now on resting on her back as he searched her face.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t let them ruin this for you, baby.”

Her eyes watered, but she blinked them away quickly. What was the point of crying? It wasn’t like she knew them.

But that wasn’t what stung. What stung was that people obviously don’t see how much love and excitement they already have for the baby. How much love and excitement they have with eachother.

“I just… I thought people would be happy for us.”

He let out a breath, jaw clenching. “They should be. But people like that? They don’t get to decide what happiness looks like for us. Okay?”

She nodded slowly, leaning into his touch.

Rafe kissed her forehead again, lingering longer this time. “We’re gonna have a baby. And that’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me, besides being with you. Screw anyone who can’t see that.”

And just like that, the ache in her chest eased a little. Not gone, but softened—because even if the world couldn’t see their happiness the way they did, at least they still had each other.

The third time, however, was different.

It wasn’t public. There were no forced smiles, no champagne glasses, no uncomfortable stares from strangers wearing designer clothes and fake approval. It was just them in the beach house—quiet, dim, the soft hum of the ocean just barely audible through the open windows.

Still, the weight of it was heavier.

For days, they’d avoided telling anyone else. After the reactions at the country club and the benefit, it was easier to live in their bubble. In their world, the baby was a blessing. In their world, there was only joy. But outside of it… it was like no one could see past the timing, the expectations, the judgment.

She curled up against Rafe on the couch, tucking herself beneath his arm as the waves crashed faintly in the distance. His hoodie resting on her frame, the fabric soft and worn from dozens of washes, still carrying his scent. She let out a small sigh and nestled her face into his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“They’re your best friends,” she murmured, her voice muffled by the cotton. “We should tell them while they are here. Just… rip the band-aid off.”

Rafe rested his chin on top of her head and held her a little tighter, his hand rubbing slow, absent-minded circles along her spine.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know, baby.”

They both fell silent again.

For all his bravado, all the times he’d told people to mind their own business, she knew Rafe wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be. He hadn’t said it out loud—not even once—but she could see it in the way he clenched his jaw when people turned cold. In the way he looked down at her belly when he thought she wasn’t watching. In the way his tone always got a little softer when he whispered to the bump in the middle of the night.

The baby was everything to him.

And if Topper and Kelce—his brothers in everything but blood—looked at this pregnancy the same way everyone else had? If they laughed or stared or questioned the timing like it was some mistake?

It would crush him.

She pulled back slightly and looked up at him. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, jaw tight, expression unreadable. But his thumb was still brushing gentle, calming strokes against her arm. She knew him too well to be fooled.

“It’ll be okay,” he said, but it sounded more like a hope than a promise. “We’ll tell ‘em. And then… they can leave if they want to.”

She frowned. “You don’t mean that.”

He exhaled slowly and brought his hand up to cradle the back of her head, pressing her closer to his chest again.

“No,” he admitted after a pause. “I don’t.”

The words were barely above a whisper, raw in a way she rarely got to hear from him. The mask he wore for everyone else didn’t hold up around her—not tonight.

He kissed the top of her head, lingering there, grounding himself.

“I just…” he started, then stopped. His fingers flexed slightly at her waist. “I wish people understood. I wish they saw what I see. You. Me. This baby. What it means. How good it could be.”

She closed her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat. “They will. Maybe not all of them. But the right ones will.”

A pause. Then:

“And if they don’t?” he asked, quieter this time.

She looked up again, reaching for his face, thumb gently brushing the edge of his jaw. “Then we still have each other.”

His eyes flickered, glassy in the dim light, and he nodded once.

“Always,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And maybe the world wouldn’t celebrate with them. Maybe there would be more silence, more judgment than happiness. But in that quiet little moment, curled together under the weight of what-ifs, they chose each other.

About an hour later, the peaceful quiet of the house was shattered by a series of loud, aggressive knocks—sharp and rapid, like someone was trying to break the door down.

She jumped slightly at the noise, heart skipping from the suddenness, before letting out a soft laugh. Shaking her head, she padded over to the front door in her socks, tugging the hem of Rafe’s hoodie further down her thighs.

She opened it with a small smile. “Calm down,” she said, voice gentle but teasing. “No need to tear the door off the hinges.”

Topper stood there with a lopsided grin, one hand still raised like he might knock again. “You took forever,” he said dramatically.

Kelce didn’t wait for pleasantries—he walked in past them with all the energy of a bulldozer, grinning wide. “We just couldn’t wait to see our favorite little lovebirds,” he said in an obnoxiously sweet tone, wiggling his brows.

She let out a soft chuckle and rolled her eyes, turning to walk back toward the couch. “God, shut up,” she muttered, her voice light with affection.

Topper laughed behind her. “Feisty today, sweetheart. What happened to the shy girl who could barely say two words to me without blushing?”

Kelce flopped down dramatically on the couch beside her, throwing an arm over the back. “Yeah, we liked the nervous one. This version bites.”

She blushed a little, ducking her head but still smiling. “You guys are the worst,” she murmured.

“Maybe,” Topper said, still scanning the room. “But seriously—where’s Rafe? Don’t tell me he bailed. I swear to God if he made us drive all the way over here and he’s not even—”

“Calm down, you idiots,” Rafe’s voice cut in from behind them, casual and annoyed in the same breath.

He stepped out of the kitchen, drying his hands with a dish towel, and walked straight to her. Without hesitation, he dropped down onto the couch beside her and pulled her into his side like it was second nature, his arm draped around her shoulders, fingers curling into her sleeve.

Kelce made a dramatic gagging sound. “Please, for the love of God, get a room.”

Rafe gave him a look and held up his middle finger before leaning over to press a soft kiss to her cheek. “You showed up to my house, jackass,” he muttered.

She smiled softly, letting herself relax into his side. The familiar comfort of his presence, the warmth of his hand gently rubbing her shoulder, made it easier to breathe. She glanced up at him, catching the shift in his expression—his smirk fading just a little, replaced with something more serious.

She knew that look.

Now or never.

Rafe exhaled, his grip on her tightening just slightly. “Alright,” he said, turning toward Topper and Kelce, who were now both looking at him expectantly. “We actually… wanted to talk to you guys about something.”

Kelce raised an eyebrow. “You’re not breaking up, are you? ‘Cause if so, I got ten bucks riding on you screwing it up first.”

Topper snorted, but quieted quickly when he saw Rafe’s expression.

She felt her heartbeat pick up. Her fingers curled slightly into the fabric of Rafe’s hoodie, seeking reassurance even though she already had it.

Rafe reached for her hand beneath the blanket draped over her lap, lacing their fingers together. He looked at her for a moment—just a second of silent encouragement—before turning back to his best friends.

“We’re having a baby.”

The words hung there, suspended in the space between them. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just honest.

Topper blinked, head tilting slightly like he wasn’t sure he heard right.

Kelce’s mouth dropped open a little. “Wait… what?”

She looked down at her lap, the familiar nervous flutter rising in her chest again. But Rafe’s hand stayed firm in hers, grounding her.

“Yeah,” he said. “She’s pregnant. A few months along now.”

Silence stretched between the four of them. Her chest tightened. Her stomach twisted. She didn’t know what to expect—probably laughter, some more judgment, another round of awkward congratulations.

But then—

“Oh fuck, really?” Topper said softly, voice caught between surprise and something else she couldn’t place.

Rafe nodded once.

Kelce let out a long breath and then leaned back into the couch, eyebrows raised. “Dude. That’s… that’s huge.”

Topper blinked again, then looked at her. “You okay?”

She nodded quickly, surprised by the gentleness in his tone. “Yeah. Just… nervous.”

Topper looked at Rafe, then back at her, then gave a crooked smile. “Well, damn. Congratulations.”

Kelce blinked, like it was still sinking in. Then he suddenly grinned. “Wait, does this mean Rafe’s gonna be a dad? Like, a real dad? Diapers and baby carriers and no sleep? Oh, this is gonna be sick.”

Topper groaned with a laugh. “You’re gonna make him cry before the baby’s even here. There goes his rep.”

“Shut up,” Rafe muttered, though his voice was quieter now, and when she looked up at him, there was something in his eyes. Pure relief.

She had been quiet for the past few minutes, listening as Topper and Kelce cracked jokes and teased Rafe about diaper duty, midnight feedings, and how he was definitely going to be the “panic parent.” The tension in the room had finally eased, replaced with the kind of laughter that came easy among people who had known each other for years.

But a part of her was still holding her breath.

She sat curled into Rafe’s side, fingers still gently laced with his, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the back of her hand. It should’ve comforted her—it honestly did—but that tiny voice in her head wouldn’t quite shut off. That familiar whisper that told her maybe they were just faking it, maybe this was just politeness, maybe deep down, everyone thought it was a mistake.

She stared down at her lap for a long moment, then slowly tilted her head to look up at the boys sitting across from her. Her voice came out quieter than she expected, barely above the sound of the waves outside the window.

“So… you guys are happy?” she asked, her tone uncertain. Hopeful.

Rafe immediately looked down at her.

His expression softened the moment he saw the hesitation in her eyes—the way her shoulders had tensed again, like she was bracing herself for the worst. Like part of her was still waiting to hear the wrong answer.

Topper’s brows lifted, his teasing grin fading into something gentler. “Of course we’re happy.”

Kelce nodded, sitting up a little straighter. “Yeah. I mean, it’s a lot to take in, but—hell yeah, we’re happy for you guys. For both of you.”

Topper leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he spoke. “You two are solid. We’ve seen that for a while now. You’re not kids messing around. You’re doing this together. That’s what matters.”

She blinked, surprised by how sincere he sounded—how real the words felt. It wasn’t fake approval or half-hearted support. It felt honest.

Not over-the-top. Not dramatic. Just quiet acceptance from the two people who mattered most.

And in that moment, the weight on her chest finally started to lift.

The morning started slow— the kind of lazy warmth and comfortability that settled under the skin and made it hard to leave the bed. Soft golden sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting rays across the white sheets and the bare skin of Rafe’s back. His arms were draped loosely around her waist, one hand resting protectively over the soft curve of her belly, now a little more impossible to miss. Their baby fluttered gently beneath her palm, like a secret only the three of them shared.

She shifted with a small sigh, tugging at her worn-out shirt which was Rafe’s, technically. It now just barely stretched over her bump. The fabric rode up as she moved, exposing the underside of her belly to the cool morning air. She frowned down at it before burying her face into his chest.

“I officially have nothing to wear,” she mumbled, her voice muffled and pouty.

Rafe cracked one eye open, the sleep still heavy in his gaze — but his smile was instant, lazy and crooked. “You’ve been saying that for weeks, mama,” he murmured, voice low and rough with sleep. He reached down to brush his thumb across her skin, slow and sweet. “Guess we’ll have to fix that today.”

And just like that, by late morning, they were downtown, strolling hand-in-hand (looking straight out of a hallmark movie) through a quiet boutique tucked between a bakery and a coffee shop. The walls were lined with soft colors, airy fabrics, and cozy maternity wear —but she still looked unsure, her fingers nervously toying with her sleeve as she browsed. Rafe stayed close, his hand resting on the small of her back like he didn’t want to lose her in the racks of sundresses and stretch-knit tops.

She held up a hanger and winced. “I don’t know if this will even look good on me… These look like old lady cloths.”

Rafe just grinned, plucking the dress from her hand and grabbing two more while he was at it. “Try it on, baby. I wanna see.”

And so began the fashion show.

She was hesitant at first, peeking out from behind the dressing room curtain in a fitted, ribbed sundress that clung to every new curve. One hand settled protectively on her belly, her other nervously smoothing the fabric over her hips. “It’s a little… tight.”

Rafe was lounging in the little velvet chair across from the fitting rooms like he owned the place— legs spread, arms draped over the backrest, and the kind of smug look on his face that made her cheeks burn. His blue eyes dragged slowly from her feet to her eyes, and then he tilted his head with a slow smirk.

“Mhm,” he said, his voice low and a little too amused. “Looks nice, baby.”

She blushed, hiding behind the curtain again before she could smile too wide.

Next came a soft yellow dress, covered in tiny blue flowers. The fabric fluttered around her thighs and cinched just right beneath her chest —she almost put it back on the rack before trying it on, worried it looked too “much” or that the color might wash her out. But when she stepped out, brushing her hands nervously down the skirt, Rafe was already standing.

He walked over slow, like she’d just taken the air out of his lungs, and gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You look cute,” he said, voice low and honest. Then, with that teasing glint in his eye, lips brushing the shell of her ear: “Sexy.”

Her breath caught, and she put her head into his chest with a shy giggle, hiding her face from his knowing smirk. His arms came around her instantly, rubbing slow, soothing circles into her lower back.

“I mean it,” he murmured against her hair. “Every damn thing you put on, you’re just…you. And that’s my favorite thing to look at.”

She smiled into his shirt, heart swelling.

“Think we’re gonna need a bigger closet,” he added, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re too pretty to pick just one.”

The afternoon sun was starting to dip low, casting streaks of gold across the road as they drove along the coastline. The windows were cracked open, letting in the salty breeze, and her hand was resting over Rafe’s on the center console — their fingers laced together, her thumb lazily stroking the back of his hand.

He had one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road, a quiet focus in his expression as the ocean flickered beside them. Music played low from the radio — some old song she liked that he’d pretended not to remember the name of and then added to their car playlist the same night.

And then—

She gasped.

Not a small, startled sound —but sharp. Audible. Immediately heard.

Rafe’s foot slammed on the brake.

The Range Rover jerked to an almost complete stop with a screech, tires skidding just slightly on the sun-warmed pavement. His entire body snapped toward her, eyes wide, breath caught like a grenade went off in his chest.

“What?” he barked, voice tight. “You okay? Is it the baby? You need the hospital? Oh my god baby. Is it happening?”

But she was covering her mouth, eyes wide— and laughing. His comment was honestly not eve remotely possible since she wasn’t even in her third trimester.

Her free hand pressed firmly to the curve of her stomach, eyes bright with something that almost looked like disbelief.

“He kicked,” she breathed out between little giggles. “Oh my God, he kicked.”

Rafe stared at her like his brain was still catching up —like he hadn’t quite made the turn from panic to relief. His heart was still racing, adrenaline still high, chest heaving under his sweatshirt.

And then slowly— so slowly it was almost reverent —he reached over and laid his hand on her belly.

All at once, the tension drained from him.

She’d never seen him so still.

No smirk, no teasing remark. No smart-ass comeback or cocky comment. Just Rafe—silent, eyes locked on the place where his palm met her skin through her T-shirt, as if he was waiting for something really sacred.

A beat passed.

Then another.

And then—it happened.

He felt it.

The faintest nudge. A soft thump against his hand. So small, but very real.

His lips parted slightly, breath catching in his throat. His fingers flexed just a little before settling again, like he didn’t want to scare it away. His jaw clenched —hard— and for once, it wasn’t out of anger or frustration.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

She watched him, her heart thudding with something deeper than excitement. He looked like he’d just seen a miracle. Like the world had stopped moving and left him standing in the middle of something he never expected to feel.

“That’s our boy,” she murmured.

Rafe swallowed. His thumb brushed over her belly, slow, tender.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. He just stayed there — hand on her, head bowed slightly, eyes glassy in a way that made her throat tighten.

And then, voice low and raw:

“I’m gonna protect him with everything I got. You hear me?”

Her chest ached — full and warm and aching all at once. She nodded, smiling so softly it barely reached her lips.

“I know,” she whispered. “He already knows, too.”

Rafe nodded once, sharp. Then leaned in and kissed the side of her stomach, lips lingering like a promise.

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katieshook02 · 5 hours ago

Text

You’ve grown up…

Part 4

RafeCameron x ThorntonStep-sis

—

The ten minute drive to the diner was full of small talk and lots of laughs from Rafe’s end. I very much believe that I’m a comedian on a normal day, but throw a little alcohol into the mix, I could be on a world tour, I swear. And me trying to prove that has really provided Rafe with plenty of entertainment.

“You’re just jealous you’re not as funny as me” I say crossing my arms as he pulled into the diner parking lot

“Yeah, that’s what it is” he nods sarcastically, laughing as I roll my eyes.

He pulls into a parking spot, turning the engine off. “Don’t move,” he says before sliding out of the truck and making his way to the passenger door, opening it.

“I could get out” I say

“I’m not chancing you falling and landing on your face so no” he smiles holding out a hand for me to grab. I turn my body towards him, now realizing I’m actually eye level with him.

“Holy crap… I’m as tall as you” I laugh pointing at him

“You drank way too much” he laughs at me

“I’m eye level with you, that’s insane. You’re a giant…” I reason

“Girl, if you don’t get your ass out of the truck, we’re not getting food” he threatens leaning his hands on the top of the truck.

“Oh how dare you” I say crossing my arms again, rolling my eyes, leaning back into the seat, eyeballing him.

“That’s it” he laughs before pulling me off the seat, making me yelp, as he immediately putting his hand on the backside of my thigh to hold me up until he could place my feet on the ground.

“You can’t just toss me around like a rag doll” I scold him, laughing lightly

“Looks like I just did sweetheart” he says winking at me as I playfully push his arm

“You’re annoying” I roll my eyes up at him

“So I’ve been told” he smiles throwing an arm around my shoulders leading us to the front door of the brightly lit diner.

I walk in and immediately take in the oldies music playing from the jukebox in the corner along with the smells of food coming from the back. I notice a few people in the corner at one of the big round booths

“Hey Cameron” one of the boys say giving him a nod, as Rafe lifted his chin towards him as he lead me to one of the booths on the opposite side.

I slid into the booth expecting him to slide into the other one opposite of me but instead, he slides in right next to me. I raise an eyebrow looking at him

“Guys in the corner are cool guys but also really annoying when it comes to girls, trying to make sure they don’t try anything..” he says giving me a small smile as I hand him a menu from the caddy.

“Ole country club” I hear as I look up seeing a somewhat familiar guy standing at the end of the table with an apron on. Dark longer up in a bun.

“What’s up man” Rafe says standing up doing a little handshake with him before sitting back down

“Who’s this pretty little lady?” The guy says smiling at me while leaning on the table.

“This is Makayla, you might remember her actually”

“Kayla bug?” The boy says making me look at him suspiciously… “holy shit” he says smiling

“Barry?” I ask watching him grin really big

“How the hell are you? Where the fuck you been?” He said sliding into the booth across from us

“I’m good, been in Kentucky with dad, how are you?? I hardly recognized you!” I say leaning toward him

“Me? Look at you? You’ve grown up so much! What’s it been? Like 12 years now?” He asks

“Well with you going to juvy back then, that’s probably about right” I say making him laugh

“So are you back here permanently?” He asks

“Umm no no.. just for the summer. Dad was gonna be gone on a job for a while and I figured it was time to give this place another chance” I say as he nods lightly

“Well I’m really glad to see ya” he smiles at me as I smile back

“What have you been up though?” I ask watching him closely

“Well, me and country club had a good little rough patch for a minute, but I like to think we’ve both got out shit together now. Still selling some, but not really using like I was” he explains as I eyeball both of them

“So what made y’all civil exactly?” I ask

“Drugs” Barry said making Rafe shoot him a look

“I bought from Barry for a while, ended up owing him money, and before we knew it, we were decent friends after alot of threats” Rafe explains

“Well I’m glad y’all are both doing better. I’m proud of y’all” I say making them both smile at me

“Means alot Kayla bug, but what can I get y’all to eat?” Barry asks

“Just bring me my usual” Rafe tells him, “and I know she’s wanting a sandwich”

“Turkey and cheddar?” Barry asks me making me smile.

“You got it, with lettuce, pickles, mayo, and some water” I add

“Fries?” He asks

“Yes please” I say as he nods slightly before walking to the back.

I groan crossing my arms on the table, laying my cheek against them, closing my eyes

“You good?” Rafe asks

“I may need to throw up” I mumble and I feel the booth shake some. I shoot my eyes open seeing Rafe with his hand over his mouth trying to hide his laughter, “oh fuck off” I glare at him before laughing lightly

“Do you really need to though?” He asks

“Not yet, maybe I’m just tired and hungry” I tell him

“Well hopefully this sandwich will help” he says patting my back a few times as I smile lightly.

I pull my phone out, seeing that I had a few snapchats unanswered from some friends from back home. I opened snaps from Chelsie, Drake, and Belle for now, before clicking to take a picture, instead I decide to video, I make a face at the camera before leaning over for Rafe to get into the video. He’s grinning at me before smiling at the camera, waving.

“Who’s that going to?” He asks

“Just some friends from home, Chelsie, Belle, and Drake.” I explain

“Drake? Is that a boyfriend?” He asks clearing his throat

“Oh no, just a really good friend” I say as Barry comes back with our drinks, “thanks Barry” I say, watching as he shoots me a wink.

“So, how’s business man Rafe Cameron doing?” I asks

“You see it,” he laughs “I go on business trips, have serious days, but overall, I’m doing whatever I want to do.” He explains watching me closely

“That’s um nice” I say storing my straw around in my water

“Yeah, most of the time when I’m not dealing with the business, I’m trying to get some law stuff figured out to get Wheezie back” he says

“Wheezie?” I asks

“My little sister. After dad passed, our step mom took Wheezie and ran. Sarah and me haven’t seen her in like 4 years now” he says

“Wow.. I’m sorry, have you gotten anything figured out?” I asks

“So far, no. I thought I had a few times but Rose was always able to get around it”

“I’m sorry” I say again

“It’s okay, we’ll get her back eventually” he smiles as I nod studying his face

“If there’s ever anything I can do, I’ll be there” I say reaching out to place my hand on his forearm

“Thank you” he smiles, “you know you look really beautiful right now” he says lifting his hand to brush a piece of hair behind my ear

“Rafe” I say, praying that my cheeks wouldn’t rat me out

“Nothings wrong with me giving you a compliment, right?” He defends

“…right...” I say as Barry places our plates down in front of us.

“Y’all need anything else?” Barry asks

“No sir” I smile at him as Rafe shakes his head

“I do have a quick question” Barry says putting both his hands on the table studying us as we await his question, “are you two dating?” He asks and I laugh, feeling both their eyes land on me

“No, we’re just… friends?” I question glancing at Rafe

“Yeah we’re friends” he confirms

“Might outta stop looking at her like that then country club” Barry laughs, slapping his arm, and making his way back to the back.

I feel my cheeks heat up at Barry’s words as I stare down at my sandwich. “Ignore him, he’s full of bullshit” Rafe says as I just smile shyly before taking a bite of my sandwich.

We both stayed quiet while eating, not really sure what to say, but I know I couldn’t ignore every slight touch of our knees, arms, or hands. I can’t lie and say I don’t find him attractive, that I don’t want to learn more about him, that I don’t wanna give him a true chance at anything. But regardless, if something did come of us, it would be a waste of time since I’m going back to Kentucky soon, so there’s no point. Right?

When we get done eating, it’s about time for the diner to close, so we make our way to pay, which Rafe quickly pays for my meal too, automatically earning daggers and heart eyes from me.

“You didn’t have to pay for mine” I say when he opens the diner door for me.

“Just say thank you” he smiles down at me making me roll my eyes

“Thank you so much Rafe” I dramatically say before wrapping my arms around his waist squeezing tightly, “you’re so amazing” I add making him laugh

“Glad somebody sees my potential” he laughs wrapping his arms around me hugging me just as tight

“Oh my gosh.. I… need… air” I struggle tapping his back

“Crap, sorry” he says pulling away quickly

“It’s okay, height difference didn’t help with it I think” I smile making him smile back.

He follows me to the passenger door, opening it for me before picking me up again to place me in the seat. “Thank you” I say as he shoots me a toothy smile, going to shut the door but quickly pulling it open again looking at me.

“I’m sorry” he says keeping his eyes locked on mine

“For what?” I ask confused

“Everything when we were younger, for Barry saying that earlier, I’m just sorry” he explains

“Rafe, we’re good I promise” I say putting my hand on his shoulder

“Makayla…” he mutters studying my face

“Yea?” I ask

“You feel something too, right?” He asks

“What do you mean?” I ask furrowing my eyebrows

“Between us…” he whispers

“Rafe..”

“Fuck it” he says reaching up to place his hand on the side of my neck pulling my face towards his, placing his lips on mine. I try to push back, knowing half of me didn’t agree with this. I feel like pull away slightly, hovering his lips over mine, “don’t fight it, please, if there’s nothing after, I won’t ever try again… deal?” He whispers keeping his eyes closed and his forehead against mine

“…deal” I whisper before he pushes his lips against mine again. I turn in the seat to face him, which he quickly slides himself in between my legs, putting his hand on my waist to pull me closer. Never in a million years did I think I would be kissing Rafe Cameron. Maybe it’s the alcohol pushing this. Or maybe it really is the way that this now MAN has made me feel just in the past few days. I guess my thoughts made me forget what I was doing for a second bc I feel him squeeze my side, making me laugh against his mouth.

“That tickles, you dip shit” I laugh

“Kiss me dammit” he laughs as I grab his face pulling him into me, connecting our lips once again.

What did I get myself into…

Eventually, we pull away, leaning our foreheads against each other trying to catch our breaths. A ringtone makes him pull away, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, only to see ‘Topper’ across the screen. He looks at me apologetically before answering the call.

“Yeah man?” He answers, “yeah, we’re about to head to the house, you good?” He asks listening to toppers answer. “Ok, yeah, see you then, bye” he says hanging up.

“Everything okay?” I ask

“Yeah, he was just checking up on ya” Rafe smiles at me as I smile back. “And as for you, you can’t tell me that wasn’t nothing, so don’t even try” he says like he already knew what I was gonna try to do.. ignore it.

“I didn’t say anything” I defend

“Mhm, buckle up” he winks before closing the door and making his way to the driver side.

~~~~~~~

When we pull up to Tanny hill, Rafe hurries up to the passenger side to help me out of the truck. I didn’t let him pick me up this time because I was less drunk than earlier. I follow him upstairs, where he lead me to where Sarah’s room is. He knocked lightly and opened the door once we heard a ‘come in’

“About time you two showed up” Topper teases

“Oh shut up” I laugh, “did y’all have fun?”

“Oh tons” Topper winks making me fake throw up.

“All I’m saying is, if that ‘fun’ happened where y’all are expecting me to sleep, I’ll pass” I say

“Oops” topper says, Sarah slapping his chest

“Don’t leave me baby, I wanted cuddles with you” Sarah playfully flirts reaching her arms out for me causing me to laugh.

“Did you cheat on me in that bed?” I asks putting my hand over my heart

“Maybe…” Sarah says looking down

“So rude” I say playfully walking out of the room, “I’m sleeping on the couch” I sing

“The fact that you seem more interested in Makayla than me really makes me curious” topper says making everybody laugh.

“Kayla” Rafe says closing Sarah’s door looking at me, “you can sleep in my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch” he offers

“I can’t kick you out of your bed Rafe” I say

“Then how about, we both go to my room, you have my bed, I get my couch, we can watch a movie, talk, whatever. As long as you’re comfortable” he offers reaching for my hand

“I guess, you sure you don’t want your bed?” I asks

“Nah, it’s too soft for me anyways, I’ll probably sleep better on the couch” he informs me

“You’re so full of shit” I laugh making him grin as we walked into his room.

I don’t really know what I expected but it wasn’t at all what I thought. King size bed covered with a navy comforter that was a little thrown around from the night before I’m assuming. All the furniture was a very pretty and classy oak finish. In one corner, was a desk, with papers neatly stacked in folders. On the other side was the entertainment center with the tv, play station, and tons of little knick knacks on the shelves, with the couch against the wall in front of the tv.

“What? Good or bad?” Rafe asks

“Surprisingly good” I laugh

“I’m taking that as a compliment” he chuckles before walking over to his dresser. “You want something to sleep in?” He asks

“Maybe, what ya got?” I ask

“Does one of my shirts and some boxers sound okay?” He asks

“Yeah, I can try it” I smile

He quickly finds a pair and hands them to me, “bathrooms right there” he points to the other side of the room. I nod and make my way over.

To my surprise, the bathroom was fairly clean too, for it to be a guys. Made me proud. I quickly change, leaving my bikini on and sliding his shirt on, the hem barely above my knees. I slide his boxers on and have to fold the waistband a few times to get them to stay up. I giggle at the fact of where the heck I am. How ironic is this shit.

I step out and see a shirtless Rafe with just gym shorts on. “Hey, so just wanna make sure, how all this been cleaned since the last time you’ve ya know?” I ask feeling the heat rush up my neck and onto my face.

He puts his hands on his hips and just grins at me. “Yes it’s probably been washed 100 times since the last time anything like that has happened” he answers as I nod

“Ok, thanks for answering” I say slipping under the comforter

“You’re adorable” he says coming over to the bed putting his hands on either side of my head hovering over me.

“Can I help you?” I ask

“Sure can” he winks before leaning down to place his lips on mine and I immediately kiss back. He pulls away after a second “I knew I was right” he smirks walking over to the couch.

“Oh shut up” I say rolling over so my back is to him

“Goodnight Kayla”

“Goodnight Rafe” I smile, slowly letting sleep take over.

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

Masterlist

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katieshook02 · 5 hours ago

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⊹red lipstick⊹

— female!readers favorite was always red lipstick, and even in her relationship with rafe, nothing stopped her from wearing it.

you always loved red lipstick. this element of your makeup wasnt for you some kind of rare look that marked some extremely important event or a pleasant meeting. it was simply your feature - something you wore almost every time someone elses gaze touched you.

and if it didnt touch you, it meant they werent looking well.

and crimson lipstick didnt seem to you something flashy, unique and unusual. because for you, putting something of a wine shade on your lips before going out was a favorite routine. but for others...

everyone noticed, saw, stared. after all, it was your "signature". confirmation, possession.

and when rafe, the kooks prince, that crazy eldest child of the camerons, who never got close to anyone for more than a couple of days, began to be seen wiping his lips, burning scarlet, with napkins on a completely usual day, rumors began to spread. and you, that independent girl who could and did everything yourself and who "definitely wouldnt have fallen for this psycho", didnt comment caustically on these "demonstrative antics", only confirmed them with your silence.

because it was true.

because you didnt know yourself at what point the evil mockery and the desire to strangle him for that impudent smile of his grew into sincere laughter at his next joke, said with such a serious face, and melting from his quickest and most imperceptible grin.

you felt good with him, and he felt good with you. well, at least thats what he said when he kissed you again and again, smearing your creamy lipstick, despite your warnings about its dyeability. but each time he said that the lipstick was already a part of you. and not kissing the lipstick meant not kissing you.

so he kissed, kissed, kissed, and you responded, responded, responded…

and even at the parties his friends threw, where rafe always invited you and then pretended he havent come here with you, he couldnt just leave you. he crossed your eyes too often for man who "didnt care", searching for the top of your head with his eyes if you went out with your friends for a long time, carefully keeping an eye on you so that nothing happened to you, periodically hiding with you in empty rooms, hugging you to himself, and coming out of them with cheeks flushed not from the heat.

what was there to hide, seeing him like this, openly pleased with the red kisses on his face and neck, made you especially happy in a malicious way. you didnt know who exactly you were malicious at, but it was damn rafe cameron, and he wanted your lips to remain on his skin in screaming spots when he looked over everyones heads straight into your eyes. and that mattered.

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katieshook02 · 18 hours ago

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⋆˚࿔ FUCKING AT A PARTY

— pairing: kook!rafe x kook!reader

— warnings: MDNI 18+, sexual innuendoes, explicit language, teasing, dirty talk, hair pulling, unprotected sex, sorta public sex?

— word count: 748

— A/N: this one's been in my drafts for A WHILE. its short but i'm working on the fwb series (it'll be out soon!)

the party wasn’t even that good. music was dull, half the people were already too drunk, and you were kinda bored—except not really, because rafe looked so good tonight. backwards cap, white tee clinging to his chest, a gold chain barely peeking out. he was leaning against the counter, red solo cup in one hand, just existing like he didn’t know what he was doing to you.

and okay, maybe the shot you took ten minutes ago was making you bolder, but you couldn’t stop touching him.

your arm around his waist. fingers brushing up under his shirt just a little. nails tracing over the band of his jeans like muscle memory. you were subtle about it—or at least, you thought you were—until he looked down at you, amused, eyes narrowing just a bit.

“you good?” he asked, low, in that voice that already made your stomach flip.

you blinked up at him, wide-eyed and trying to play it off. “mhm.”

he looked right through you.

his hand found your lower back. “don’t mhm me. you’re squirmy.”

you pouted a little, pressing closer. “i’m not squirmy.”

“no?” he muttered, lips brushing your ear. “then what’s with the hand on my belt, baby?”

you immediately pulled back, trying to act innocent, but he was already setting his cup down and grabbing your wrist.

“bathroom. now.”

“rafe—”

he didn’t even answer. just pulled you down the hall, past groups of people too busy talking to notice you slipping away, and shoved open the door to the upstairs bathroom.

he locked it. turned around. looked at you like he was about to ruin you.

“been touching me all night,” he said, backing you against the counter. “knew exactly what you were doing.”

your breath caught. “i wasn’t—”

he kissed you before you could finish, hard and messy and all tongue, hands already sliding under your dress.

“ ‘course you were,” he mumbled against your mouth. “always get like this when we go out. can’t help yourself, huh?”

you whined, trying to kiss him again but he pulled back, just enough to tilt your chin up.

“so needy for me you couldn’t even wait ’til we got home?”

his hand slipped between your thighs and you gasped, hips bucking forward like your body had a mind of its own.

“that’s what i thought.”

he turned you around, bent you over the counter with no warning, yanked your panties to the side. the mirror fogged with your breath as you tried to stay quiet, heart pounding.

“rafe—”

“shh.” he leaned over you, one hand gripping your waist, the other guiding himself in. “gonna be real fast, baby. but i’ll still make you come.”

you choked on a moan as he pushed his cock in, the stretch deep and sudden. he didn’t give you much time to adjust—just started moving, fast and rough, hand slipping under your dress to press against your lower belly.

“look how deep i am. you feel that?”

you nodded, hands braced against the sink, mouth falling open.

he grabbed your hair and pulled your head back so you could see your reflection. “look at you. all flushed and fucked out already.”

you tried to look away. he didn’t let you.

“nah, eyes on the mirror. wanna see how pretty you look when you fall apart.”

you clenched around him at his words and he groaned, hips stuttering just once.

“fuck, baby. you get tighter when i talk to you like that?”

he kept going, faster now, and you could feel the heat building, your legs shaking.

“don’t stop,” you whispered.

“not gonna,” he panted. “you gonna come for me?”

“y-yeah—”

his hand slipped between your thighs, fingers finding your clit, rubbing perfect tight circles.

“then do it. right now. make a mess on my cock.”

you came with a cry, muffled into your arm, legs shaking as he fucked you through it. he followed right after, pulling out last second and spilling onto your lower back with a low, drawn-out curse.

you both stayed still for a second, catching your breath.

“holy shit…” you whispered.

he chuckled, grabbing toilet paper to clean you up. you turned around, flushed and dazed, and he kissed you sweetly, like he hadn’t just wrecked you in a stranger’s bathroom.

“next time,” he said, “don’t tease me if you can’t wait.”

you rolled your eyes, stealing one last kiss before fixing your dress.

“next time,” you muttered, “fuck me before the party.”

he smirked. “deal.”

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katieshook02 · 18 hours ago

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ᤢ ♥︎ 12⠀ ⸻ shades of cool / rafe cameron!

content WARNING: Bodyguard!Rafe (28) × Model!Reader (21), crying, mentions of corruption/human trafficking/stalking, mentions of military.

Her eyes were flickering with a quiet unease despite the calm of the moment, not even the latte she was sipping seemed to calm her. And Rafe noticed it. He sat across from her, his black coffee untouched, his eyes fixed on her, catching every subtle shift in her expression.

Breakfast was warm, but the air was heavy.

Y/N set her mug down, her fingers trembling slightly, and looked at Rafe, like she could read him like a book.

“If you’re thinking about digging into Ethan, be careful, Rafe,” she said, her gaze searching his. “His father—he’s… an asshole who owns half the country. Money makes them untouchable. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, his hands flexing around his mug.

He didn’t care about an asshole with billions.

He’d faced worse than rich men with power.

There was no men on earth that could break him.

None had. And he’d be damned if he let some spoiled, sick fuck like Ethan keep haunting Y/N, keep stealing her smile.

“I’ll handle it,” he said.

She nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line, and went back to her latte, but he saw the fear in her eyes.

After breakfast, Y/N curled up on the couch, her head resting on Rafe’s lap. She’d fallen asleep, her breaths soft and even, her hand tucked against his thigh, her sweatshirt riding up to show a sliver of smooth skin. Rafe’s heart ached at the sight; her trust, her vulnerability, the way she felt safe enough to sleep like this, with him. But his mind was a warzone, Ethan’s smirk burned into his memory, the photos and messages Y/N had shown him playing on a loop. He wasn’t waiting for that bastard to make his next move. He pulled his laptop onto the coffee table, careful not to disturb her, and started digging.

His military contacts were a goldmine—ex-intel guys, hackers, guys who owed him favours from blood-soaked days in the desert. He made calls and his questions were specific.

Ethan Caldwell, son of Richard Caldwell. Everything you’ve got. Now.

As Y/N slept, he scoured databases, dark web forums, piecing together a picture that made his blood run cold. Hours passed, it was getting dark and the penthouse was quiet except for the soft clack of his keyboard and the occasional murmur from Y/N in her sleep.

By late afternoon, his contacts came through, and the truth was uglier than he’d imagined. The Caldwell family was a cesspool of corruption, their wealth built on a foundation of human trafficking, money laundering, and political bribes. Richard Caldwell, Ethan’s father, owned half the country, real estate empires, private security firms, offshore accounts that funnelled dirty money through shell companies. He’d bought judges, cops, and entire city councils, ensuring the family’s sins stayed buried. Ethan was no better, a spoiled predator enabled by his father’s power.

The messages Y/N had shown Rafe were just the tip of the iceberg.

Ethan had a history; stalking, harassment, and allegations of assault that vanished.

Rafe’s stomach churned as he read about Annuska, a model who’d been Ethan’s obsession before Y/N. At 19, she’d walked runways for Dior, her star rising fast, until Ethan fixated on her. Flowers, letters, showing up at her shoots... Then, two years ago, she vanished. No trace, no investigation, just whispers of a payoff to her agency and a missing person’s report that went nowhere. Rafe’s fists clenched, his knuckles white as he stared at her photo; a girl with wide green eyes, a smile not unlike Y/N’s, now gone. He looked down at Y/N, still asleep in his lap.

His heart twisted, imagining her face in that missing report.

Ethan wasn’t just a stalker, he was a monster, backed by a family that made him untouchable, and Y/N wasn’t his first victim. But she’d be his last. Rafe wouldn’t let her become another Annuska, another name erased by money.

Y/N stirred, her eyes fluttering open, her gaze soft and sleepy as it met his.

“What’re you doing?” she mumbled, her hand reaching up to brush his arm, her fingers grazing the snake tattoo that coiled around his bicep.

“Working,” he said, closing the laptop before she could see the screen. He didn’t want her to know yet, didn’t want to shatter the fragile calm she’d found in sleep. “Just… keeping you safe.”

She sat up, her sweatshirt slipping further, her eyes searching his, catching the tension in his jaw.

“You found something,” she said, not a question. “About him, didn’t you?”

Rafe exhaled, his hand running over his buzzcut.

He couldn’t lie to her, not after everything.

“Yeah,” he said. “Ethan’s not just a creep. His family… they’re bad news. Human trafficking, corruption, worse. And you’re not the first. There was another girl, Annuska. A model. He was obsessed with her, too, and then she… disappeared.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her hands flying to her mouth, her eyes widening with a fear that made Rafe’s chest ache.

“Disappeared?” she whispered, her voice breaking, her body starting to tremble. “Like… gone? Dead?” Her hands dropped, clutching her knees, her nails digging into her skin, leaving red crescents. “Oh God, Rafe, that could’ve been me. That was almost me, at the bar, in his car…” Her voice cracked, tears spilling down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking as the weight of it hit her. “He’s never going to stop, is he? He’s going to keep coming until…”

“No,” Rafe said, cutting—trying—through her panic.

He slid off the couch, kneeling in front of her, his hands grabbing hers, his calloused fingers rough but gentle as he pried her hands from her knees.

“Hey, look at me.” Her eyes met his, her chest heaving with shallow breaths. “I don’t care who his father is, how much money they’ve got. They don’t scare me. He doesn’t scare me.”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face, her lips trembling.

“But he scares me,” she whispered as she choked, her hands flying to her face, her sobs muffled but gut-wrenching, her body curling in on itself like she could hide.

Rafe’s heart shattered, he hated seeing her like that. He pulled her into his arms, his hands gentle but firm, one cradling her head, the other around her waist, holding her against him.

“You’re not alone anymore,” he said. “I’m here. I’ve got you. He’s not getting near you.”

She clung to him, her fingers digging into his back, her tears soaking his shirt, and he held her tighter, his chin resting on her head. He wasn’t going to let Y/N be another ghost.

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katieshook02 · 18 hours ago

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𝓓𝓘𝓛𝓕!𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝔁 𝓜𝓘𝓛𝓕!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎. 𝙰 𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚎-𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐… 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

c/w: language + accidental discovery of your adult items

“Six… Five… Seven Eleven… Seven Eleven again… Twentyteenteen!” Poppy’s tiny voice echoes through the estate, high, proud, and wildly incorrect.

Max and Winnie bolt in opposite directions across the marble foyer, socks slipping on the floor, both shouting over their shoulders at the same time.

“She’s coming!”

“She skipped four again—go!”

Their five-year-old sister might not have known how numbers worked yet, but she was fast. Which was exactly why Max and Winnie were fighting like their lives depended on it, shoving each other in a quest for the perfect spot.

“I’m not hiding with you!” Winnie hisses, trying to wedge herself through your bedroom door first.

“I’m not hiding with you either!” Max snaps back. “You hear that?” He asks, lifting his hand to his ear dramatically. “Silence… She comin’. Hurry your ass up, Win. I'm not bein’ the seeker again. That shit sucks, aight? and I’m not doing that—I’m an adult—”

“Barely,” Winnie mumbles as she surveys your room. “Hide somewhere else, Maxi Pad. You left the twins alone with slime last week so you owe me.”

“Yeah, well, you sent the president of Craft Friday,” he mocks as he waves his hands in the air dramatically.

“It’s precedence.”

“Same shit—”

“No.”

“I’m still older. And bigger. Move,” he huffs as he beelines toward the walk-in closet; Winnie following right on his heels.

Max drops to his knees and scrambles into your side of the closet, burying himself in a cocoon of cotton and satin. “Motherfucker,” he snips through gritted teeth as his knee catches on top of something metal, making him tumble forward.

“Shut up,” Winnie groans, already fed up with his dramatics, ducking into the suit closet on Rafe’s side. The heavy scent of cedar and leather fills the air as she tucks herself between Rafe’s dress shirts and pressed jackets.

A soft patter of feet passes the bedroom door and both teens freeze, only the soft clatter of wood and satin hangers swaying as they settle into their secret spots fills the space in between.

Max slowly peeks between two robes as Winnie does the same from between two suits.

It’s not Poppy… It’s Rory.

The five-year-old pads around the room with a telescope in one hand and a go-go squeeze in the other. Max makes a face, mouthing shush at the same moment as Winnie.

Rory glances around, before taking two steps forward, standing in front of the door at the very end of the large closet, his eyes trailing from the very bottom up to the tippy top.

“Wait—” Winnie whispers, her voice climbing. “Is he…”

“I… I think so—”

Their eyes widen as they see a key they've never seen before… A silver one with a black satin bow. Rory wraps his little fingers around the knob, giving it a twist.

“No way,” Max whispers, holding his breath as his little brother slips into the room.

The door’s cracked open wide enough for Winnie to see enough: the dim red lighting, black satin sheets, the dark mahogany four-poster bed…

“What’s in there?” Max asks, his face twisted like that's actually the last thing he wants to know.

“I don't know…”

“… What do you see?”

“Booktok shit,” Winnie breathes, already scared.

Winnie and Max share one horrified glance before Poppy’s voice breaks through the quiet. “Maxi? Sissy? Where are youuuu? Ready or NOT. I'm coming right now. Be afraid. Grrrr,” she growls through her tiny teeth as she shows off her nonexistent claws.

Her eyes instantly draw to the open door. She skips across the walk-in closet, opening the door without a second thought. Giggling and squealing delightedly as she finds Rory.

“Ahhh! Found you, Roar—Ooohh a swing—”

“NOPE!” Max launches out of the closet with a full-body flail.

Winnie scrambles out at the same moment, knocking a small book off a low shelf in the process as she falls forward. It lands with a thud, fanning open to a black-and-white photo spread. “Oh my GOD—” Winnie shrieks. “Is this a boudoir book?”

“You’re under arrest!” Poppy shouts as she holds the fuzzy handcuffs up in the sky, that metal thing that caught his knee in the beginning now in the hands of his little sister as he fights to free himself.

“DROP IT,” Max barks, voice cracking and hoarse, his big body trapped in a complex web of silk lingerie and lacey straps. He thrashes, fake-sobbing, falling backward as a lacy bra wraps around his neck.

Winnie dives forward, trying to help screeching nonetheless, “Stop moving! You’re making it worse!”

“I’M TRAPPED. I’M GONNA DIE IN HERE.”

“HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW TO UNHOOK A BRA—” Winnie grunts as she tugs and yanks at the fabric.

Poppy and Rory stand there frozen; eyes wide in the glow of the red light, watching their older siblings descend into utter chaos.

Max finally breaks loose, steering the twins out of the red room and back into the sanctuary of the brightly lit walk-in before slamming the door shut, locking it tight.

He leans his whole weight against the door as he draws a deep breath, fingers raking through his hair as he tries to burn those images away.

“I saw things, Win,” he whispered. “I saw stuff.”

Winnie stands next to him, clapping the boudoir book shut, with a deep breath that says the same.

Max pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to collect himself for a moment as his little sibling still stand in front of them silently; Rory sucking down the last bits of apple sauce while his sister stands next to him with the pink fuzzy hand cuffs looped around her tiny wrists, seconds from slipping off onto the floor.

“This sin is off-limits,” he sighs as he grabs them off her wrists, pushing them back in your side of the closet. “This shit—”

“Language,” Poppy scolds as she crosses her arms over the chest, looking up at her brother.

“This stuff… This is not our business. This is mommy and daddy’s scary corner, nuggets. You understand?” The twins look up at him, nodding in agreement. “No more hidin’ and seekin’ in here.”

Rory blinks up at his brother, pushing up his glasses on his little button nose. “Poppy found you first so you're it.” Max looks down at him slowly, and the little boy’s tongue presses against his cheek, holding back a smile. “Fine, she found me first.

He covers his face in his hands, taking a deep breath. “Sixty… Fivety… Fourty-ten… Sissy, wait—” Everyone stops mid-bolt, looking back at him as he stands there puzzled, wading in a puddle of fallen lace and satin. “What’s BookTok?”

@rafesthroatbaby @babygoddam @cherrywriterrr @chriscroissant @littlelamy @imakeepers-world-blog @rafesbabygirlx @bisexualcvnt @love-4-rafey-lando @slut-4-rafey @prettybabyyyy @maybankslover @rafecameronswhoore @leather-n-velvet @user25786433455 @wtfdudesblog @i-love-dilfs @tatoda @krissy455 @mymelii @angelicameron @chem1cali @missmookie @rafespeach @heyitsmewee @taliescapes @lolasangelz @cokewithcameron @k4yr14 @starkeyjoseph @daddyrafeslittleslut @leviathan0000 @luvrcndy @mrswidowjohansson @vanessa-rafesgirl @sapphiresighs @atpeacee @alexxavicry @sithapprentice @spideysimpossiblegirl @dilflover72567 @esmerai-artemis @littleshinythoughts @apricityxoxo @rafecamlovr @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @boopiesmif @st8rkey @randomdupe @mqndi1

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katieshook02 · 19 hours ago

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playoff season is your favorite because that means mat gets to put the razor down and grow out his beard. you love when the faint stubble grows and covers his cheeks and chin with each game won.

talia hates playoff season because mat with stubble is unusual for her. when she’s two, the body make it to the second round and mat’s got a pretty healthy beard going. she cries when she sees him and when he tries to kiss her, she pushes at his face and shakes her head, shouting, “daddy, no! no kiss! skatchy.”

“i’m sorry, t,” mat ruffles her hair and frowns, trying not to be hurt by her rejection. you scratch your nails over his jaw and through the beard, giving him a consoling kiss on the cheek.

“mama kiss!” talia points at you and then mat.

you laugh, “i should kiss daddy?”

talia nods and you press a quick kiss to mat’s lips. talia claps, “mama kiss me!” she points at her own cheek and you press a smacking kiss to her soft toddler skin.

that goes on for hours, talia relishing in her power to get you and mat to do whatever she wants. and for the rest of the playoffs, you become the middleman to give talia kisses from mat until he shaves the beard after their exit and she allows non-scratchy kisses again

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katieshook02 · 19 hours ago

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↳ MAT BARZAL PROMISES HE WILL NOT BUZZ HIS HAIR THIS SEASON | 7.29.25

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katieshook02 · 19 hours ago

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24 hrs later still thinking about barz saying he thinks bo’s shot is top 5 in the league & that he (barz) personally doesn’t feel the need to “shoot more” bc if he’s on the ice with bo and he can see bo is free he’ll pass to him every time bc he knows it’s going in. 1314 FOREVER

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katieshook02 · 1 day ago

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military!rafe having a little ptsd shock in the middle of the night? waking up and breathing heavily, eyes kinda teary and immediately going into protective mode seeing his girl by his side in bed; bringing her closer, almost encasing her body in his strong arms thinking "i'm not gonna let them hurt my girl" even though there's no one there.

and when she wakes up she asks him what's going on and tries to soothe him telling him she's never leaving him but he's just staying in that possessive mindset, holding her close

the first time it happened, it was 3:12 a.m.

you woke up to the sound of something sharp—his breath, quick and staggered. the mattress dipped under the force of his sudden movement. you blinked sleep from your eyes and turned your head—

and rafe was sitting up, completely rigid. chest heaving. palms gripping the edge of the mattress like he was going to fall through it. dog tags sticking to the sweat on his chest. eyes wild.

“rafe?” you whispered.

but he didn’t answer. just looked at the wall like it was breathing. like it might lunge. and then—

you watched the shift happen. it wasn’t big. just the smallest turn of his head. just the barest glance down at you, all curled up in your little sleep shirt and clutching the blanket to your chest.

“baby,” he choked out. “baby. baby.”

his hand was on you in a second, big and trembling and too tight, pulling you into his chest, into his lap, like someone was going to rip you away from him if he didn’t anchor you now.

“you’re okay. i got you. i got you. you’re not hurt. you’re not—”

his voice cracked. his arms were like steel around your waist.

“rafe—what’s wrong, baby?”

you were awake now. really awake. blinking up at him in the dim light. you placed both hands on his cheeks and felt how wet they were.

he didn’t answer. didn’t look at you.

“they’re not gonna touch you,” he muttered, voice thick. “not you. not my girl. i’ll kill anyone who—fuck, i thought—i thought they were gonna—”

you kissed his temple. and his shoulder. and ran your fingers through his damp hair, whispering over and over again.

“i’m not going anywhere. i’m right here. i’m with you, baby. always.”

but rafe couldn’t hear that right now. not really.

he was still shaking. still cradling you to him like you were something fragile. like you’d break if he loosened his grip. and under his breath—

“i don’t care what they do to me. they’re not getting near you. i’d burn this whole place down before i let that happen.”

his voice was lower now. growling. half asleep, half haunted. jaw clenched.

you cupped his cheek.

“i’m safe. because you protect me, rafe. you always do. come back to me now, please.”

he blinked slowly. finally, finally looked you in the eye. and when he saw you—really saw you, bare-faced and soft and alive—he kissed your forehead like he was grateful.

“i’m sorry, angel,” he rasped. “fuck, i didn’t mean to wake you.”

“i don’t care about sleep,” you whispered. “i just care about you.”

his arms didn’t loosen.

“mine,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours. “you’re mine. not even god’s takin’ you.”

and that night, he didn’t fall back asleep until you did.

his hand never left your spine. his breath was still uneven. but his voice—low and constant—kept saying the same thing, over and over again.

“my girl. my girl. my girl.”

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katieshook02 · 1 day ago

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Hey saw u wanted more Rafe x reader x Sofia so what abt reader and Rafe being bsfs but Sofia doesn’t like reader because she’s always with them bc Rafe invites her to everything and they go tach shopping and Rafe invites you and Sofia is just annoyed by your presence and eventually blows up

All Aboard || Rafe Cameron X fem!reader

A/n: sorry this took abit, thank u for the request!!

Warnings: none rlly

Word count: 1,676

MASTERLIST

The water shimmered under the late afternoon sun, glittering as it lapped gently against the wooden docks of Figure Eight. A light breeze rolled in off the sound, just enough to ruffle the hem of Rafe’s linen shirt where it was unbuttoned low on his chest, gold chain glinting in the light.

He was leaned back in his driver’s seat, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, the engine off, the car parked in a prime position overlooking the marina. Sofia was in the passenger seat, legs crossed, glossy lips pursed in a tight smile as she scrolled through her phone—barely glancing at the boats floating ahead.

They were supposed to be yacht shopping. Supposed to be doing it together. But Rafe was checking his phone for the fifth time in ten minutes. His thumb hovered over your name. “Why do you keep looking at your phone?” Sofia asked, not looking up. Rafe smirked, slipping his phone into the cup holder. “She’s pulling up now.”

A moment later, a familiar porsche pulled up beside them with a quiet purr of expensive tires on gravel. Rafe’s entire posture shifted—shoulders squared, his bored expression immediately replaced with something sharper, more present. Sofia’s stomach sank, even as she forced a smile. “What’s she doing here?

She said it lightly. Soft, almost amused, but her tone didn’t escape Rafe. There was a pinch of something sour behind it. Something she tried to mask, but failed. He didn’t even glance at her when he answered. “She’s here to help us choose.”Sofia’s eyebrow twitched. “Help?”

“Yeah. She’s been on more boats than both of us combined,” he said with a small smirk. “She knows what I like. And what I don’t.” “Oh. So I don’t?” Sofia snapped, voice sharper now, “shouldn’t I be the one helping you pick it out?” “She’s my best friend, Sof,” Rafe said, finally turning toward her. “She’d be on it a lot.”

Sofia let out a clipped, disbelieving laugh. “What, more than me?” There was a pause. “I’m your girlfriend, Rafe.” He exhaled through his nose. “This isn’t a competition.” His eyes were still trained on your door, already anticipating you stepping out.“Could’ve fooled me.” And then you stepped out of the car.

You stepped out in white linen pants and a navy halter top, sunglasses pushed up into your hair, skin golden from the sun. Rafe’s face softened instantly. He was out of the driver’s seat before you could even shut your door. You greeted him with that signature, easy grin of yours, and without thinking, Rafe opened his arms and you fell into him like gravity.

Your arms wrapped tight around his torso, and he leaned into you without hesitation, his chin brushing the top of your head. “Missed me already?” you teased into his shoulder. He chuckled, arms circling your waist firmly. “Maybe.” Then he kissed your cheek—a little too close to the corner of your mouth. “Took you long enough.”

“I stopped for coffee,” you teased, pulling away just enough to flick his sunglasses up. “You look like a dad.” Sofia stepped out of the car and slammed the door harder than she needed to. You turned, offering her a pleasant smile. “Sofia, you look so cute today, I love that colour on you.” She gave you a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks.”

The walk down to the docks was short but thick with unspoken things. Rafe strolled between you both, but his body always leaned slightly toward your side. His hand kept brushing your lower back. He laughed at your jokes. He pointed out the yacht he thought you’d like best—not Sofia.

The sales rep, an older man in boat shoes and Ray-Bans, greeted you with a handshake. “Mr. Cameron! Ms. Y/l/n. So good to see you again.” Sofia blinked. “Again?” “Oh, yeah,” the rep smiled. “She’s seen a few of our models already. Knows her stuff.” Sofia turned sharply toward Rafe. “You’ve been looking at boats with her already?”

“She was helping me narrow it down,” he said, like it wasn’t a big deal. “You were in Charlotte last week, remember?” Sofia’s smile faltered. The tour began. You, Rafe, Sofia, and the rep climbed aboard a gleaming white yacht—high-gloss wood interiors, Italian leather lounges, marble-topped bars, and two levels of decks with views for days.

You took the lead almost naturally. You asked about engine types. Interior layout. Guest capacity. Hidden compartments for champagne coolers. Whether the lounge cushions were sunproof. If there was enough space for a wet bar upgrade. You had opinions. Suggestions. You knew Rafe’s taste.

You’d grown up with him. You’d spent entire summers on boats just like these, sprawled out beside him, soaked in salt water and secrets. Of course you knew what he’d want. Rafe kept nodding along, asking your opinion, looking at you when the sales rep asked about preferences. Sofia trailed behind, increasingly invisible.

She didn’t ask questions. She barely looked around. She watched you instead—watched the ease between you and Rafe, the way your shoulder brushed his as you leaned over a floor-plan together, the way he smiled at your suggestions like they were gospel. You stepped into the master cabin, frowning slightly.

“Bed’s too small. You’d be annoyed after a week.” Rafe nodded. “True.” Sofia scoffed. Loudly. You turned just as she snapped, “Are you the one buying this or are we?” You blinked. “Excuse me?” Sofia folded her arms. “You’ve got all the answers, don’t you? You’re asking all the questions. Acting like it’s your name on the paperwork.”

The rep took an immediate step back. You stepped forward, voice calm but cold. “I’m just trying to help. That’s what friends do.” “Yeah, well, maybe your help looks a lot like taking over.” “Sofia,” Rafe warned lowly. But you were done letting her pretend she wasn’t being rude. You tilted your head.

“I’m sorry, do you always talk like that to people who are just trying to make sure your boyfriend doesn’t buy a $2 million boat with no wine fridge?” Sofia’s mouth parted. You kept going. “Because if that’s how you handle being uncomfortable, I’d hate to see you on open water, sweetheart.”Rafe blinked, eyes flickering between the two of you.

Sofia’s cheeks flushed deep red. “Wow. So this is what it is? You just tag along on everything we do, act like the second girlfriend, and I’m supposed to be okay with it?” “I’ve known him since we were thirteen,” you snapped. “Where were you then?” “That doesn’t give you a free pass to disrespect me.”

“I haven’t disrespected you. But if you keep talking down to me like I’m some extra on your romantic little boat fantasy, I will start.” “Sofia,” Rafe interjected finally, voice steel. “That’s enough.” She turned to him, furious. “You’re not seriously—” “I said enough,” he bit out. “She didn’t come here to fight with you. She came because I asked her to.”

Sofia shook her head like she was dizzy, her voice trembling. “And what am I, Rafe? What the hell am I doing here?” “You’re making a scene.” That landed like a slap. You stepped back, giving them space. The sales rep had long since retreated to the upper deck. Sofia scoffed, laughed, bitter and breathless. “Unbelievable.”

Then she turned and walked off the yacht. You and Rafe stood in silence for a beat, the tension buzzing like static between you. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I didn’t mean to—” “No.” Rafe shook his head, eyes still on the dock where Sofia disappeared. “She’s been waiting for a reason to blow up on you for months.”

You looked up at him. “Then why keep inviting me?” “Because I don’t do things without you,” he said simply. “And I never have.”

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katieshook02 · 1 day ago

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𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚃𝚊𝚗𝚔

𝓓𝓘𝓛𝓕!𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝔁 𝓜𝓘𝓛𝓕!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

+18 -> every mom in the building is lined up to get your husband wet in the dunk tank. Rafe’s completely oblivious but you’re not, and you’re more than ready to remind him who he belongs to.

c/w: possessive!reader, switch!reader x switch!rafe, fingering, marking, rough closet sex, praise kink, pet names + language

2.9K

“Hi, Rafe!” The greeting comes out high-pitched and weirdly performative—like the tone of someone who’s experiencing the highlight of her day. You open the window of your classroom a little more, taking in it all.

Down in the parking lot, Rafe steps out of his truck, one arm full of carnival supplies, thick muscles shifting under his black tee; his pressed polo pants hugging him in all the right ways.

Max is right behind him carrying a second box with a look in his eyes like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. Winnie’s already walking ahead holding a treasure trove of cheap prizes, the three headed toward your room.

And just like clockwork… the welcome committee—almost impossible to miss.

Three of the school moms are already beelining toward them, all smiles and swishy hair, their tone way too cheerful.

“Oh, Rafe, would you mind grabbing something out of my trunk real quick? It’s just so heavy!”

“Thank god you’re here. We could use the extra muscle. I don’t know how we’d pull this off without you.”

“Rafe, are you still coaching baseball this summer? Because we were thinking of signing Easton up.”

You watch one of them touch his arm and your jaw tightens, the anger in you making your chest tighten.

Rafe just nods, helping them along, moving along quickly. He says something back; kind and harmless, completely unaware that every woman in a fifty-foot radius is gawking.

You roll out the tension in your neck, reminding yourself of the position you’re in. You’re a teacher. A professional. There are still students in the building. There are still rules.

You slide the window shut, but you’re still annoyed.

You walk toward the door, ready to greet them. Winnie’s in the lead, eyes narrowed, clearly over the little detours they took to help desperate housewives on the way.

Max throws his head back in frustration as they’re stopped yet again by yet another parent… Paisley Remington.

She’s dressed like she just left the tennis courts; an absolutely stunning woman who’s ugly in every other way. She says something that makes Rafe smile and nod—showing her pity she’d never pick up on because she doesn’t know him… She thinks this is working? Please.

You roll your eyes and suck your teeth, exchanging annoyed looks with your teens. You’re about to respond when Rafe catches sight of you and grins like nothing’s going on. Like he hasn’t just been followed through the parking lot and halfway down the hallway by a rotating cast of women whose feminism leaves their bodies the second they catch sight of Rafe.

“Hey, baby,” he calls, leaving Paisley the moment he sees you. “Where do you want this?” He lifts the box, making his biceps flex a little more.

Paisley's face twists in annoyance as he shuffles toward you, smiling down at you like you’re the only woman he sees, because to him, you are.

ᯓ★

You’ve been at school from sunrise to sunset, organizing and setting things up, watching the carnival rides rise around you.

“Mommy,” you hear the twins squeal in unison. You look over your shoulders watching them race toward you; Rafe, following just behind them in a white t-shirt, a backwards Atlantic Shores Academy hat, and a pair of faded blue jeans.

His School Helper tag rests proudly over his heart—Mrs. Cameron’s Husband—detailed in his chicken-scratch handwriting and you can’t help but smile.

And just as you do, the grin falters because without fail, three moms from the PTA round the corner, by some kind of crazy coincidence.

“Rafe! Hello, Rafe. Can you come by the lemonade stand when you get a chance? I think I made it too sweet.”

“Are you working the dunk tank? Hopefully you won’t get too wet.”

“Did you do all the heavy lifting already? You must be so sore.”

Rafe spots you immediately, and exhales deeply the breath he was holding tight. “There she is,” he says, almost relieved.

A mom walks past the two of you, giving Rafe the up-and-down and a sweet smile before turning her attention to you. “You’re so lucky,” she says to you, smiling just a little too wide. “He’s such a hands-on dad.”

“He really is. And such a loyal husband, too,” your words have a little more bite than you intended but honestly, it gets to a point.

Winnie walks between you and the other women, making a conscious effort to shoulder-check her, giving her a half-ass apology that has you biting back a smile and a laugh.

“They’re literally embarrassing,” Winnie grumbles to you, just loud enough for the other woman to hear. Max chuckles and drops his head, letting a box fall heavily to the ground with a deep, tired breath.

Rafe walks up to you, still none the wiser, tucking you into his arms before pressing a tender kiss on your lips.

He looks down at you as you look up at him, and god help these women if one of them flirts or touches him again.

ᯓ★

The dunk tank’s set up at the far end of the gymnasium, lost in a sea of carnival games. Music swells through the speakers as darts whizz by you, thudding against the bullseye; catching a balloon here and there.

The line is long. A crowd of eager women stand in a row, ogling as they look over and around each other; waiting impatiently like they’re trying to get through the velvet ropes of Figure Eight’s hottest nightclub.

Rafe’s sat on the bench inside the tank with elbows resting on his knees, white t-shirt now clinging to his chest. He’s already soaked clean-through. His hair’s wet, hanging loosely on his forehead before he pushes it back.

You roll your eyes as you clock ten moms who couldn’t possibly help with the event, clutching tickets in hand as they wait impatiently for their time and their moment in the spotlight.

And Paisley? She’s already waiting with a second ticket in hand.

You fold your arms, trying not to scowl as one of your student’s moms steps up to the front of the line, fanning herself off with her dunk tickets. “You sure you’re ready for this, Rafe?”

Rafe… You hold your tongue as she addresses him on a firstname basis like she means a thing to him. Looking at him like he isn’t yours.

“Hopin’ your arm is as bad as the last one, Mrs. Davis,” he answers simply—not a sliver of flirting in his voice.

Pop! The seat drops out below him and he plunges into the water. His body fills the little pool window below where he sat.

Rafe’s shirt lifts up to his chest and a sea of gasps and giggles follow. Tanned skin, cut abs, v-lines etched on his toned stomach disappearing under the waistband of his boxers, peeking out of his jeans brings a buzz of gossip like a swarm of bees to a flower.

“I swear he’s doing it on purpose.”

“If I were his wife I’d never let him leave the house in that shirt.”

“I just adore a man who volunteers.”

The water sloshes over the edge as he hauls himself back onto the bench, soaked and dripping, t-shirt transparent, just painted on at this point and that’s when you decide he needs a break—now.

“Max. Win, you’re up,” you say, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Before I lose my mind… Or my job,” you mutter under your breath and your son chuckles knowingly.

It’s like flipping a switch, poof… moms disappear. In their place? Teenage girls. Sisters of the elementary school kids. A string of Middle School and High School girls, giggling and whispering, twisting strands of hair around their fingers while Max sits in the tank already living for their attention.

You grab a towel for Rafe as he shakes his hair out like a wet dog, big body dripping with wet. He wrings out his shirt, smile widening the closer he gets.

“Didn’t think I’d get dunked so much. Holy shit,” he laughs breathlessly.

“Mhmm…” You hum, teetering on the edge of something you might regret. You grab his hand and smile, saving face, leading your husband away from the hoard to the privacy of the dim hallway, away from it all. You draw a wavering breath, finally feeling your heart start to slow—

“Rafe,” Paisley breathes, all breathless urgency. “Would you mind helping me carry this to my car? I’ve been killin’ myself on the golf course lately. My shoulders just—”

“No,” you cut in, too fast and far too sharp. “He’s busy. Call your husband.” She startles a little.

You don’t answer right away. Just stare her down with a smile that’s this close to a snarl.

Paisley blinks back at you a few times, before turning her attention to Rafe with one last hopeful look.

“Call… your… husband…” You say, slow and demeaning, the tone of your voice deadly, making Rafe's head turn toward you out of the corner of your eyes. “Also, this area is for teachers only, and their husbands of course. Keep an eye out for those signs on the doors, Pais. I’d hate for you to get kicked off the PTA.”

Rafe's eyes widen on you; his brain still trying to catch up to the first shot fired the moment ‘no’ left your lips. You tug him forward and he follows you close, face painted in all types of confusion. “Hey, honey. Uhh… Am I missin’ something here?”

“Just tired of watching women pretend you’re not wearing a wedding ring,” you mumble as you power walk down the hallway; Rafe’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“I didn’t even—”

“I know,” you sigh, softer this time. “I know, baby.”

You reach the end of the hallway, in a rush. Rafe opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but before he gets the chance, you grab a fistful of his soaked shirt, yanking him into the storage closet, kicking the door shut behind you.

You push him back until his shoulders hit the metal shelves. “What the hell—” he starts, half laughing, but you shut him up with your mouth, kissing him hard, and he doesn’t need any more explanation.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, the water clinging to his t-shirt seeping through yours; your body flush against his as the pressure of the night finally releases.

Rafe groans deeply, hands gripping your hips, but he lets you take the lead. Lets you press your greedy pussy against the rough, wet denim, grinding with the cadence of your kiss.

“You have no idea what it’s like,” you whisper, biting his bottom lip as you say it. “Watching them all line up like that. Flirting. Fawning. Laughing like I’m not there—”

“I wasn’t even—baby, I didn’t—”

“I’m telling you, Rafe I know,” your voice leaves your lips in a broken whine. You grab his jaw, thumb stroking the soaked stubble along his cheek.

You peel off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor with a rough wet slap. Your hands are all over him now; nails dragging down his chest leaving behind little red lines as your lips suck, teeth biting down on his neck, marking him as yours.

You reach for his belt with a heavy hand tugging at it impatiently. “I don’t like sharing,” you whisper against his throat. “Even if they’re just looking. I fucking hate it.”

“You don’t have to,” he breathes. “You never have to.”

He stumbles a little when you shove his jeans halfway down his thighs; tugging his boxers down before he can even consider doing it himself.

You wrap your hand around his long, fat cock and he moans—the sound making goosebumps spread across your hot skin.

You stroke him nice and slow, lidded eyes locked on his, watching as he feels it all. His mouth falls open, breathing heavily with you.

“This is what they want?” You whisper, watching his lashes flutter as you run a line of spit down on his throbbing tip. “This part of you they’ll never get to see. Ever.”

“Jesus, baby—” He chokes on his words; moans borderline pornographic.

You lean in, letting your teeth scrape along his ear. “They don’t know you like I do. They don’t know how good you are. How soft you get for me—just me. How easy you fall apart when I touch you just right,” you whisper as you sweep your thumb across his tip, hearing him whimper in sensitivity.

He lifts you, just enough to sit you on top of a crate behind him, hands framing your waist like they were meant to fit right there.

“You really think I see anyone but you?” He says, forehead pressed to yours. “You think I even look anywhere else? I belong to you,” he murmurs, against your throat. “You know that, right?”

You nod as your fingers knit in his hair.

“There’s no one else,” he says again, with a little more assurance. “Never has been. Never will be.”

He slides your panties to the side, easing two fingers inside you. Rafe moves them slow and deep, curling just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Let me take care of you. Let me make you feel what they never will.”

Your head falls back, mouth open as his thumb finds that perfect spot. He works you open with slow, practiced pressure. His free hand cradles the back of your neck now, holding you steady while he murmurs into your ear.

“Look at me, baby.”

You grip his shoulder for balance, letting your nails dig in as he lifts you, shifting you forward on the crate as he tugs at your hips. He centers you right where he wants you. His cockhead pushing against your drooling hole, slipping in before he slams the rest of the way inside.

You cry out in pleasure—the sounds fill the tiny room as he stuffs you so full your eyes start to brim with tears. He stays just like that, lingering with your wetness; living in the feeling of your body squeezing and pulling him in. “You feel that?” He whispers, voice rough. “Feel how hard I am? That’s what you do to me. M’all yours.”

You bite down on your lip trying to keep the sounds in as your body rocks with his. You’re crammed together in the narrow space, every movement deeper than the last. The shelves rattle behind you, but he doesn’t stop; his grip on your thigh tightening by the second.

Your legs wrap around his back instinctively holding him close as you press your heels into the small of his back, drawing him in.

You can feel every inch and ridge of him—each vein and curve as he drags in and out, heat building in your tummy with every pass.

Rafe’s mouth finds yours again, and everything seems to slow. His lips brush gently; parting so he can slip his tongue inside.

His rough thumb circles your clit. “I got you,” he murmurs, lips at your jaw. “I’ve got you, baby.” You bury your face in his neck and gasp as your body starts to tighten around him.

“Rafe—” you whisper, voice cracking.

“I know,” he breathes, “I know you—know you better than anyone ever will.” And with those words he picks up the pace without being asked, pounding into your drenched cunt, railing you as you slap your hand over your mouth, crying out under your palm for him.

Your orgasm hits you hard and fast as he works you through it, praising and whispering soft words of worship through each wave of pleasure.

His rhythm falters as he spills into you with a low, broken sound, forehead pressed tight to yours, slicked with water and sweat.

Neither of you moves for a moment, the both of you sharing breath as your hearts bang together.

You’re still tangled in each other when the faint crackle of your walkie talkie snaps against the quiet.

📻 “Hey, Mrs. Cameron? Uh, we’re out of face paint. Do you know where the extras are?”

You chuckle breathlessly and Rafe does too, voice low and worn out. “Mrs. Cameron… Holy shit,” he drawls, almost bashfully at the way you took control.

“Yeah? You liked that?” You giggle between tender kisses.

“Loved it—I mean I hate that these women got in your head but fuck, baby… That was incredible. You’re unbelievable.”

You help him get dressed, tugging his soaked shirt down over his abs, smoothing it where it clings, still nearly see-through between kisses. He does the same for you, zipping you up, straightening your skirt.

You step out into the hallway with Rafe close behind, and—because the universe has a sense of humor—there she is.

Paisley.

Frozen mid-step, lips parted, on her way to grab the paint because apparently asking you to fetch it wasn’t enough of a performance for her.

Her eyes drag over Rafe—his soaked shirt and sex-messed hair, the little bruise on his neck blooming from your teeth and lips. She gets a good look at you as well—the post-orgasm glow, kiss-swollen lips, and that unmistakable hum of satisfaction wafting between you.

Rafe smiles, easy and unbothered, reaching back ever so slight to grab a box of paint pallets from the shelf.

“Face paint? Already on it, Susan.”

“… It’s Paisley,” she mumbles softly.

“Oh, shit. M’sorry. Just awful with names. You’re gonna have to excuse me,” he adds as he wraps his arm around your waist. Your lips twitch at the corner as you hold back a self-satisfied smile, watching as her cheeks burn red from the embarrassment of it all.

The two of you walk around her, heading back toward the carnival, leaving her behind without a second glance. Because you are the only person who will ever get that.

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