#(I'm just happy cameron finally released the music) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dirtytomatoedwrites · 9 months

Text

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 2

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

PART 1 is here if you haven't read it

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Darkish!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering. Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 8.3k words (Rafe has released the writing beast in me)

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So happy you enjoyed the first part. Here's the second. I thought it would just be just a second part but the more I wrote the story just kept unfolding and I really want to do it justice. (I think part 1 and 2 together is the longest I've written for any fic character) So in order to really get into the angst and it not be too long its going to have to be 3 perhaps 4 parts (not sure yet) Anyway I'm currently writing part 3 so it won't be too long before posting. One thing - there's only one piece of music with this part and I would suggest playing it and leaving it running while you read the rest of the chapter.

Thank you for reading and sticking with the story and if you enjoyed it please reblog. It helps to spread the love. Much love and take care. ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

The soft glow of your phone, quietly vibrating beside you, nudged you out of your peaceful slumber. Still shrouded in a groggy haze, you instinctively turned away from it. Without even a glance, you knew who the messenger was, and the mere thought that he had sent another text caused a weary sigh to escape your lips.

Rafe's persistent attempts to connect since that unforgettable night had been unrelenting. Ignoring his calls was relatively easy (you had silenced his number), but his text messages proved more difficult to dismiss. Simple words like "Hey," "Hi," and "Talk to me" consistently lit up your phone at all hours, serving as a gentle yet persistent plea for your response—a response you couldn't bring yourself to give, yet somehow couldn't bring yourself to block him outright either. Ultimately, you opted for what seemed the only rational strategy, although in hindsight, it may not have been the wisest: complete avoidance.

But, in truth, none of that mattered. Not when your waking thoughts and dreams were dominated by memories of Rafe, endlessly replaying the night you shared. The feeling of being completely overwhelmed that night, your pleading words that it was all too much, that you needed to stop, were still fresh in your mind. How Rafe merely smiled in response and declared it was only the beginning, sealing his promise with a kiss.

And as he kissed you slow and deep, Rafe was true to his word. His middle finger wormed its way back between your legs. He found your sensitive clit already swollen and slippery with your slick and rubbed the nub in gentle circles in sync with his languid kiss. Slow and steady, minutes ticked by as Rafe dragged out your pleasure, watching you patiently, drawing back his finger whenever he felt you were close, his tongue lazily circling yours, as you both breathed as one. Until finally, finally, he allowed you to cum.

Your body exploded for him, blinding white pleasure saturated your senses leaving you crying and shaking while Rafe whispered soothingly against the shell of your ear "That's a good girl. That's a good girl."

Your unforgettable night with Rafe was unparalleled, surpassing all previous experiences, including those with your first and only boyfriend, Jake. Granted, you had not given Jake the same liberties, but even with the awkward kisses and over-the-clothes groping that marked your brief relationship, Jake had never elicited emotions remotely comparable to what Rafe managed in just one evening. What Rafe stirred effortlessly within you was a different beast entirely — something desperate, needy, and vulnerable. The sensation was so powerful that even three weeks later, it remained, smoldering like a steadfast ember, ready to reignite under the right conditions.

This realization filled you with absolute dread. The sudden understanding that it was Rafe- Rafe Cameron that held the power to shape your desires, ignite unknown cravings, and provoke illicit responses from your body that you couldn't control, was utterly terrifying.

You had often heard tales of girls falling for the proverbial 'bad boy,' forsaking their better judgment for some reckless charmer, and had always scoffed at such narratives. The thought of you succumbing to such feelings or desires was, until recently, beyond the realm of your wildest dreams. It seemed, however, that you were not as immune as you had once believed. All it took was the right—or perhaps, in this case, the wrong—person to stir those latent desires to the surface.

The sheets felt like an unwelcome weighted blanket on your body, pressing you down as you twisted and turned, desperately trying for sleep to come. But it remained stubbornly out of reach. Instead, you found yourself overwhelmed by a flood of polarising emotions.

Chief among them was a sharp sting of shame from that night with Rafe—a shame born from the startling responsiveness of your own body to his, and a gnawing guilt that it was Rafe, of all people, who had elicited such a reaction.

Yet, beneath the layers of guilt and shame, another emotion stirred, one you fervently sought to squash: a thrill of excitement at how utterly alive you felt being dominated by him and the confusing, even more, inescapable undeniable truth—you had loved every single intoxicating minute of it.

In a small town of no more than 7000 souls, you had turned avoiding Rafe into something of an art form. It wasn't difficult, really. Your comfort zones were galaxies away from the crowded, noisy spots that seemed to magnetize him. Bars, clubs, and bonfires weren't your scene anyway. Your day-to-day orbit included exam prep and college applications, mostly done at the library for a change of scenery, relentless babysitting shifts, and quiet trips to the edges of the out sticks with your cousin to catch crawfish —far from the exclusive circles of Figure 8.

Life was, if not exactly smooth sailing, at least predictably turbulent. Everything seemed under control, except for one tiny, nagging detail: Rafe. And your near-pathological commitment to avoid him.

On an average day that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rest, you were navigating your way through a series of errands for your dad. The North Carolina sun was blazing overhead casting sharp shadows. As you rounded a corner bathed in this bright, unforgiving light, a figure suddenly materialized. At first, it seemed like a trick of the heat, an illusion stirred up by the sweltering atmosphere. But as your eyes adjusted, recognition dawned. It was Rafe, but he looked... different.

Your gaze drank in the details, lingering over the notable changes—the buzzcut that gave him an even more dangerous edge, the way he stood taller, seeming to tower over the world, the newfound confidence that rolled off him in waves, a palpable energy that dared anyone to challenge him. But the transformation wasn't just physical. An undercurrent of danger clung to him like a second skin. He looked like he had seen things. Done bad things.

Reality came rushing back, slamming into you like a tidal wave, you tried to reverse course, turning on your heels to disappear from his line of sight. Yet, your reaction came a second too late. Rafe had spotted you, and maybe if you hadn't just blown most of your cash on groceries, you would've dropped them and run.

Rafe's speed was unrivaled. With just a few long strides, he effortlessly caught up to you. Firmly grasping your arm, he swiftly spun you around to face him, and there, you saw your own reflection in his Ray-Bans. He slid the sunglasses onto his head, revealing his piercing blue eyes. He made no attempt to hide the whirlpool of emotions swirling within them.

"That's not very neighborly of you," he said. His words were clipped and tinged with anger, yet something in his expression softened slightly as he gazed at you. Was it relief? Disappointment? It was difficult to determine, but one thing was clear—his emotions were just as tumultuous as yours.

"I forgot something—"

"Oh, you forgot something?" His grip tightened, decreasing the space between you.

"Yes, from the supermarket—"

"What, the one over there?" he asked, casually gesturing over his shoulder in the opposite direction.

"A different store."

"Right, right. Well, I'll walk you there."

"No! I've changed my mind," you protested, shaking your head. Your feet instinctively shuffled backward as you attempted to free yourself from his grip. His laughter was low and dry, his hold on you tightening.

"I need to go, Rafe. Let me go. I have to get home," you pleaded, desperation edging your voice.

"You heard her, country club. She said 'Let go'." The forceful tug-of-war between you and Rafe abruptly seized as both of you turned to see Barry approaching. You'd never directly interacted with Barry, but tales of his local thuggery and drug dealing were well-known to you. He greeted Rafe with a familiarity that, given Rafe's reputation, was not surprising.

"This doesn't concern you, man. Keep moving," Rafe commanded, his gaze fixed on Barry.

"Well, I did hear her say 'let her go'," Barry remarked, positioning himself beside you.

"Yeah well, she doesn’t know what she wants," Rafe retorted, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he pulled you closer, positioning himself between you and Barry.

"Just let her go, man—"

"Fuck off," Rafe spat.

Unfazed, Barry squinted and leaned in closer. "You realize how this looks, right? Out here in broad daylight?" he warned.

“Keep walking,” Rafe's jaw clenched as he squared off against Barry.

"Do you not realize what you are doing, bro?"

"I said keep walking," Rafe said icily, maintaining eye contact.

An unspoken exchange passed between the two men, concluding with Barry retreating, hands lifted in a gesture of surrender. “Alright then,” he conceded. “You do you, country club. You do you. But don't come crying to me when this shit backfires. I warned your J.Crew lookin' ass.”

After Barry's departure, Rafe scanned the surroundings before returning his focus to you.

"Where's your car?" His question hung heavily in the air as you looked up at him, fear evident in your eyes.

“Hey, I asked you a question,” Rafe's voice softened, his hand gently shaking your arm. “Where's your car?”

"It's...it's not working,” you whispered.

“You walked here?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

A smirk crept across his lips. "Well, aren't you in luck? I'll give you a ride."

"No, that's... I can walk. I planned to walk—"

"Don't. Don't do that. Don’t act dumb, alright? It's nearly a hundred degrees out. What- you planning on collapsing on the side of the road?" His tone was surprisingly gentle, even as he grabbed the grocery bag from your hands. "Let's not make a mountain out of a molehill, yeah? Barry's already acting like a fool. We don't need a full circus," he stated, heading towards his truck and leaving you with no choice but to trail after him.

Rafe held the door open for you, assisting you as you climbed onto the plush leather seat. After handing you the grocery bag, he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. In a subtle move to put some distance between the two of you, you placed the grocery bag in the middle.

Rafe started the truck, rolled up the windows, and activated the air conditioning. The truck pulled out of the parking lot, beginning a mostly silent ride.

Apart from the occasional glances Rafe threw your way, the journey remained relatively quiet. He made no attempt to hide his attention, his thumb rhythmically tapping on the steering wheel. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, and you felt like you were suffocating despite the AC. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"You look good..." Rafe stated, punctuating his words with an approving nod. The compliment stirred a flurry of emotions within you, leaving you feeling disoriented. As your heart pounded like a war drum, the silence seemed to morph, becoming dense and strangling.

"Thank you," you muttered trying to fill it. Your gaze firmly on the road ahead.

"How's your dad?" He asked, initiating a light conversation about your dad's well-being. You answered his questions with measured caution, unsure of his intentions. You informed him that your dad was coming home tonight and you intended to cook him a meal since he practically survived on sandwiches during the week in Burnsville. Rafe's thoughtful nods suggested he was listening, but there was an undercurrent of ambiguity that left you uneasy.

"What are you planning on making for him?" he asked with a semblance of innocence.

Your voice wavered as you listed the dishes, each word revealing your growing vulnerability. Anticipating his next move or comment, your heart raced and you braced yourself for what felt like an inevitable confrontation. You kept thinking he'd ask about the unanswered calls, about his ignored messages.

"Wow, you’re a real cook, not just a 'barely-can-boil-water' cook."

“I manage,” you replied.

Rafe hummed in agreement, his thumb still tapping the steering wheel albeit slower; more measured. “You know, Wheeze misses you.”

“I miss her too. How is she?”

“Good. She’s got exams coming up, so she’s been focusing on that. She's also got herself a little girlfriend."

"You seem to approve. Let me guess, Kook?" you asked absentmindedly.

"Nah, Pogue," he corrected, emphasizing the 'P'. "I guess we like what we like, huh?" he said, eyes raking over you.

Silence followed as Rafe steered away from the main road, venturing down an isolated street lined with beech trees. Decaying houses dotted the landscape, separated by wild stretches of tall bluestems and switchgrass.

"You should, you know… come by the house. See her sometime. I know she’d like that."

“Oh- I.. I would but I can't," you stammered, shaking your head "I have college applications to finish. Maybe sometime after."

“Right, right… college... applications... where are you applying?”

"Um… Kildare Community, Piedmont, Sun Valley, Crystal Coast Community--"

"What about Juilliard or Berklee? You applying to any of those?”

His question caught you off guard, and you turned your gaze towards him. Under the sunlight, his handsome profile seemed almost otherworldly.

"I hadn't really given it much thought," you confessed, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

His eyes fixed on yours, curiosity flickering in them. "Why not?"

Your answer was simple, albeit hard to articulate. "I can't afford it," you said with a shrug. Your eyes back on the unfolding road ahead when his gaze became too much.

"Don't they offer scholarships?"

"Yeah, they do. But the competition among applicants would be intense-"

"So? You're talented. Apply." he said matter of factly. "There are folks on the cut dreaming of an escape, with squat to show for it. You? You have options..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "Don't squander it. Not here and definitely not at some shitty community college."

Taken aback, you struggled to find a response, and it didn't help that you could feel his eyes on you, evaluating your reaction. The remaining ride passed in silence, and by the time he pulled up outside your house, you were more than relieved.

"Thank you, Rafe," you said, quickly reaching for your grocery bag, but Rafe stopped you.

"So, that's it? Just 'thank you, Rafe?'" he asked, his jaw shifting restlessly from side to side, as though words were on the edge of his tongue, fighting to break free.

"Oh— I'm sorry, I should've offered to cover the gas. I don't have much on me, but I can--" Your words were cut short by Rafe shaking his head.

"I don't want your money."

Fear prickled your skin, "Then what—what do you want?" Swallowing nervously, you awaited his response.

Rafe's gaze flitted to your lips then back to your eyes "A kiss." he said.

Your head jerked back, unsure you'd heard him correctly.

"A kiss?" you echoed, attempting to digest his sudden proposal.

"Yeah, just a kiss," he replied. His voice was so steady, so devoid of emotion, it was as if he was merely commenting on the weather or asking if you had the time.

Your query rang out once more, uncertainty creeping into your voice, "A kiss?"

"Just one. One kiss and we call it even." Rafe's lean-in was deliberate, his index finger lightly grazing your jaw, igniting a trail of warmth along your skin and unsubconsciously you leaned into it.

"A kiss," you whispered back, your eyes locked onto his. Perhaps you didn't want things to escalate into a fight, but maybe, just maybe, a part of you wanted to kiss him. Taking a breath to steel yourself, you leaned in, brushing a swift kiss against his cheek. Almost instinctively, his lips followed, seeking yours.

"That's, that's not a kiss," Rafe breathed, his eyes growing progressively darker with each word he spoke.

Gently, Rafe curled his fingers around the back of your neck, drawing you closer. His attention was solely focused on your lips. As if under a spell, you relented, delivering a brief, innocent kiss onto his lips. But just as you began to pull away, Rafe halted you, his fingers remaining intertwined at the nape of your neck.

"Nah, that doesn't count."

"I kissed you, Rafe—" you began, your voice trembling.

"No, no. You owe me a real kiss for all the unanswered texts and the missed calls..." His words triggered a surge of panic within you and you tried to pull away, but Rafe held you firm, his gaze burning into your own. "I was worried about you. Did you know that?" he asked, his eyebrows creasing in confusion.

"We had fun. I made you feel good and then you just...." He paused, collecting his thoughts, his eyes darting between your lips and your startled expression. "I thought something had happened to you. But then, I woke the fuck up and realised you were safe - you just ghosted me. You know, I even contemplated driving over to your house? But I knew your dad wouldn't appreciate that. I thought I might never see you again, and then...there you were."

Rafe's words gushed forth like a sudden revelation. "There you were, shopping for groceries to cook for your dad, playing the dutiful daughter, blissfully content in your little world, while mine was hell." He spat out the words with venom, his fingers tensing at the nape of your neck, pulling you so close that his lips were mere millimeters from yours. His eyes, swirling with turmoil, locked intensely onto your eyes, which were now brimming with unshed tears.

"So, while I'm relieved you're okay," he started, his lips curving into a slight pout as he painstakingly enunciated each word, "You owe me. You owe me for thinking about you. You owe me for worrying about you. Now, open your mouth."

"Rafe," you whispered, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks.

"I said, open. Your. Mouth." His voice hardened, his command leaving no room for doubt.

Your broken sob was all it took for Rafe to swoop in, kissing you passionately. His tongue probed the depths of your mouth, and you willingly complied, feeling the unmistakable force in his movements - raw, desperate, determined.

With each passing moment, Rafe deepened the kiss, leaning into you even further. He poured in his passion, demanding that you returned it with equal intensity, leaving your head spinning and your heart aching. The sheer intensity of the moment left you gasping for breath, and as Rafe's lips left yours to press desperate, kisses against your cheek and down the column of your throat you felt like you couldn't breathe at all.

"Please, I have to go, I have to," you managed to muster, pulling his fingers away and pushing him back. With a surge of determination, you grabbed your grocery bag and yanked on the passenger door, only for Rafe to swiftly reach over and slam it shut.

You turned to face him, struggling to catch your breath and see him through your teary haze. Rafe's face portrayed a picture of calm, cold calculation, with only the harsh puffs of air escaping his lips marring that composure. "You're making this difficult," he uttered, his voice echoing the icy chill of his demeanor. "It doesn't have to be."

Rafe relinquished his hold on the door, and you seized the opportunity, yanking it open. You nearly lost your balance in the process but managed to catch yourself just in time. Without daring to look back, you bolted towards your porch. Only when you heard the grating sound of his truck pulling away and tires screeching against the gravel did you risk a glance back.

The rhythmic splash of water against the wooden planks of the dinghy was the only sound as you and your cousin worked in tandem, freeing the crawfish from their nets and emptying them into plastic buckets filled with fresh water.

The usual serene ambiance of your shared task was disrupted by the thickening tension in the air, both from the approaching storm and from the heavy silence your cousin seemed eager to shatter.

"You know," she began, her voice deliberately casual, "Konnie's been running her mouth again."

You looked up from the net you were shaking above the bucket of cold water, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, yeah? What crazy story has she cooked up this time?"

She hesitated, then said with faux nonchalance, "Something about seeing Rafe with a girl yesterday. Says she looked a lot like you."

"What?" You froze mid-shake, a flicker of surprise crossing your face.

"Wild, right?”

Forcing a laugh, you attempted to balance surprise with casual dismissal. "Konnie's always been good at making stuff up."

She glanced sharply at you, her gaze assessing. "It's not ‘making stuff up’ if Barry was there to corroborate it."

The weight of the revelation pulled at your focus.

“This sounds like something out of a K-drama," you whispered, your focus back on your trap.

"Isn't it just? Our Kook King looking down on half the town like we're nothing but shit beneath his shoes, is with a Pogue. An actual born and bred Pogue. I don’t know if that’s rich in irony or if it makes him a hypocrite?" She laughed bitterly.

"Both, probably, if it were true. But it’s not.”

She nodded slowly. "Right well, Konnie said Barry tried to stop Rafe from making a scene. Why would Rafe be making a scene?” she asked, her eyes locked onto you.

Your fingers tightened around the net, your heart beating in your throat. "I don't know. It's Outer Banks. People talk. They get things wrong and--"

She sighed, leaning closer. "Is there something going on between you and Rafe?”

“No, there isn't—"

“Because if there is, I need to know. Like, are you sleeping with him-“

“No!”

“Then are you dating him?”

“No- it’s not like that." You said shaking your head profusely.

"Then what's it like?"

"I babysit his sister you know that—" you faltered under your cousin's intense gaze. "He just happened to be in town when I was grocery shopping and he gave me a ride home. Nothing happened.”

Your cousin gave out a bitter laugh and shook her head. "A minute ago you were acting like it was some baseless rumour—”

"Because you were freaking me out! What else was I supposed to say? You just came at me with a bunch of questions like I did something wrong" You said, your face hot.

You couldn’t help but notice your cousin’s frustrated sigh.

“Look, I’ve got your back, regardless of whatever is going on here. And I can’t tell you how to live your life, that's for you to decide. But, Rafe-- Rafe is not the type of guy you want to be involved with in any capacity. I thought you knew that.” The distant growl of thunder underscored the urgency of her words.

“I do, and I’m not,” you said, licking your lips.

“Good. Because Rafe would never risk being seen in public with a Pogue, let alone put his reputation on the line for one. If you get involved with him, you'll be the one who ends up getting hurt."

"I know," you murmured in agreement.

She nodded and looked up at the darkening sky. "Good. Just making sure we're on the same page is all."

"We are," You nodded, barely able to meet her eyes. "We should hurry," you said quietly. "A storm's coming."

During the subsequent week, Rafe had surfaced in your life more times than in the previous three weeks of no contact. Initially, you brushed it off as mere coincidence. You saw him at the market, then again at the docks, immersed in intense conversation with his friends, and once again at the wreck when you went to pick up food. Each encounter was brief, like an encounter with a spectre and each time you slipped away, thankfully, unseen.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you assured yourself that he wasn't intentionally seeking you out. You dismissed these run-ins as sheer coincidence. That's what you convinced yourself, at least.

Until the Library.

Your heart stuttered as you spotted him through the double doors just as you were about to exit. There he was, nonchalantly leaning against his truck, eyes concealed behind Ray-Bans and his arms folded.

Despite the casual stance, his presence radiated terrifying, intimidating energy. His posture, his unwavering gaze, his patient vigil - it all pointed towards one intention. It felt like you had been doused with cold water when realization struck-

Rafe was waiting.

For you.

Two choices lay before you. Either you could escape through the back door or find a window to climb out of. But deep down, you knew these would only delay the inevitable. It was time to confront the situation. Harnessing every ounce of courage, you resolved to put an end to this.

Usually, you'd carry only a handful of books, but today you had filled your tote. The thought of smacking Rafe in the head with it seemed like a good option. Adjusting the strap on your shoulder and gripping the bag firmly, you pulled the brass handle, flung open the door, and strode down the library’s stone steps, your chin lifted high.

A grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat split Rafe's face, his teeth flashing with amusement as he watched you. But you didn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. You breezed past him, leaving him behind in your determined stride.

Not long after, Rafe slipped into his truck and drove alongside you, his arm hanging out of the window, eyes flicking between you and the road.

"It's gonna rain, you know." he said. His voice, smooth as silk, echoed around you. You kept walking, acting as if his words had fallen on deaf ears, yet they hung ominously in the air.

"It's gonna rain, you know," Rafe repeated, amusement tingeing his tone.

"I heard you the first time," you snapped, your voice sharper than you had intended.

Rafe whistled in surprise. His grin only widened, “Come on, don't be like that. Get in. I'll give you a ride."

You faltered for a moment at his offer, but quickly regained your stride. "I don't need anything from you, Rafe."

"Sure about that?" He drawled, his truck moving at the same steady pace as you.

The thrum of your heartbeat in your ears underscored your steely resolve, refusing to meet his gaze. The truck's engine growled ominously at your side.

"You know, a ride with me wouldn't be so bad. In fact, you might enjoy it”

"I'd rather get hit by lightning," you fired back, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead.

Rafe removed his sunglasses and lightly tossed them on the dash. His silence was heavy, bearing witness to your defiance before his voice returned, a touch of impatience coating his words. "So how much longer are you planning to keep this up?"

“What do you mean? Keeping what up?”

“Running...pretending like you don’t give a shit—”

"Who said anything about running? I'm walking away. There's a difference."

"Oh, is that what this is? Right. Right." He drawled, the truck maintaining its constant presence by your side. "Well, it looks more like running to me."

"You can think whatever you want, Rafe. I really don’t care" Your words were as icy as a protective shield, distancing you from his unnerving scrutiny.

"You know," he spoke after another pause, his voice melting into a softer, intimate cadence, "You'd think I'd be bored by now but nah, I like these little interactions of ours. I look forward to them, actually…”

"Don't," you managed to whisper.

"Don't what?" He questioned, feigned innocence in his tone. You could hear the smirk in his voice, a symbol of triumph despite your rebuffs.

"Just leave me alone, Rafe."

"You know I can't do that," he declared with unshakeable certainty.

"Why not?" You shot back, halting to confront him and Rafe hit the brakes. As you turned to face him, the first drops of rain began to fall, soaking your skin and hair. You surrendered to the sensation, letting the rain blur your surroundings into an indistinct haze. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

A fleeting wave of vulnerability crossed Rafe's face, causing his confident smile to momentarily falter. "You know why..." He began, licking his lips, as if the weight of his next words were a challenge to articulate.

"No, I don’t. Aren't there plenty of Kooks you should be chasing after? Isn't that supposed to be your speed, anyway?" Your voice was laced with a mix of frustration and genuine curiosity.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes unwavering, locked onto yours. "Okay, you want me to spell it out? Fine." Leaning in just slightly, ensuring every word landed with intent, he said, "I like you, yeah? Not some Kook or a Touron. You." And then, softer, almost a whisper against the backdrop of the rain, "You know I do." The quiet intensity of his affirmation sent shivers down your spine. It was a truth both of you had danced around, a truth as terrifying as it was undeniable. Time seemed to stretch in that moment, punctuated only by the drumming rain and the frantic pace of your heart.

You swallowed hard, battling the storm of emotions threatening to spill out. "Well, you have a peculiar way of showing it," you managed to say, your voice quivering with a mix of vulnerability and defiance. His unexpected honesty had pulled the rug out from under your feet, leaving you reeling. "You've been stalking me, trying to intimidate me, forcing me to do things I don't want to--"

"Forcing you?" Rafe’s gaze hardened as he studied your face. "Forcing you? I’m forcing you?”

“Yes, Rafe. Forcing me,” you protested, the words tinged with desperation, a last-ditch attempt to create distance between you two.

Rafe chuckled under his breath as he shook his head. “I'm forcing you, but you came harder than you've ever done in your entire life just from my fingers. I'm forcing you, but you came so many times you could barely remember your own name--"

"I never wanted any of that! I didn't ask for any of that—" You tried to reason only for Rafe to silence you with a frustrated roar, his hand banging on the steering wheel.

"Get in the fucking truck!!"

"No!" you laughed shakily “No. in fact, I'm perfectly fine. Right. Here." you declared defiantly, tilting your head back to let the rain wash over you. A temporary respite came with your eyes squeezed shut. When you dared to open them again, Rafe was still there, an unwavering, persistent figure.

With another heavy sigh, Rafe surrendered. "Alright." he nodded bitterly "Alright, You're really gonna make me do this, huh?"

"Do what?" you retorted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Before you could decipher his next move, Rafe abruptly killed the engine, flung open the door and stepped out into the torrential downpour. The heavens seemed intent on soaking him through. Droplets of rain lashed down, darkening his shirt until it clung to his chiseled torso, revealing the muscular contours beneath.

"What the fuck," you whispered under your breath, your heart racing from his unexpected action. There he stood, defiant against the torrential rain, every drop sliding down his chiseled features, his piercing eyes never wavering from yours.

Time seemed to stand still until, driven by some invisible force, Rafe lunged forward pulling you into his embrace, his lips fiercely meeting yours.

His lips was soft. Not demanding and you found yourself responding instinctively. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as your hands moved to grip the wet fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. You could taste the rain on his lips, mingled with the hint of sweetness from the soda he had been drinking earlier. The world disappeared.

There was only him.

The kiss deepened, Rafe's hand moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your rain-soaked hair, while his other arm snaked around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. His touch sent a shiver of anticipation running down your spine, setting your nerves alight. The rain beating down on you both seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the thunderous pounding of your heart.

His lips moved with a fervor that left you breathless, each stroke of his tongue against yours an echo of the underlying passion and yearning that had been simmering beneath the surface. Every sensation, every emotion was amplified tenfold in the shared intimacy of the kiss. You surrendered completely to the moment, losing yourself in the touch of his skin, the strength of his hold, and the intoxicating taste of his lips.

Eventually, the kiss slowed, the initial fervor simmering into something softer, sweeter. Rafe broke away, his breath shaky. His eyes held yours captive, and a flush crept onto his face. His fingers traced a path down your cheek, before he finally stepped back.

"We can do this two ways," Rafe murmured over the steady patter of rain on the truck's roof. Pure mischief danced in his eyes as he stated, "I can drag you kicking and screaming and trust me, I’ll enjoy every minute of it, or you can walk and get in on your own. But either way - you're getting in the truck. Your call."

Wordlessly, you pivoted and moved towards the truck, your boots crunching against the rain-dampened gravel.

"That's what I thought," Rafe replied, a victorious grin splitting his rain-speckled face as he caught your fleeting glare. Unruffled, he stretched out his hand, popping open the weather-beaten door with a familiar creak lost in the drumming rain. His hand was warm and steady as he helped you up into the seat, the fabric of your clothes already beginning to stick to the leather.

In one fluid movement, Rafe navigated around the truck, momentarily swallowed by the spray of the falling rain before reappearing on the driver's side. With a clunk, the door closed behind him, sealing out the chill and sound of the heavy rain. His wrist flicked, the ignition turning over and the engine’s steady rumble intertwining with the rhythmic tapping of raindrops on the roof.

Leaning over the seat, Rafe's momentarily searched around the back. When he reappeared, he held a well-used, grey fleece jacket, its fabric softened by countless washes.

"Here," he offered, his voice barely louder than the muted patter of the rain against the windows. He extended it towards you, his fingers brushing against yours in exchange.

"Thank you," you replied, accepting the jacket. The fleece was surprisingly warm, a welcome contrast to the chill spreading through your rain-soaked clothes.

Rafe maneuvered the truck through the storm your house barely discernible in the relentless deluge. He parked close to your porch, an unspoken gesture to spare you from the worst of the rain. When he switched off the engine, the absence of its rumble made the cab feel suddenly small. The silence that enveloped you both was thick, charged with unsaid words and emotions neither of you didn't know how to share.

Rafe turned to face you, the dim glow from the dashboard lights casting a soft luminescence on his features. Rain droplets traced shimmering paths down his face, catching on his eyelashes and hanging at the tips. His gaze held yours, searching, longing, a question lingering in his eyes.

Swallowing hard, you broke the silence. "Want to come in?" The words hung in the air, tender and tentative. "Maybe dry off a little before hitting the road?"

"Make yourself at home" you said.

With a click, you turned on the side lamp, illuminating the cozy sitting room in a warm glow. You excused yourself, leaving Rafe momentarily to fetch some things for him. From the hallway closet, you grabbed a clean towel, and after a brief rummage through your dad's wardrobe, you found a red plaid shirt that might fit him. Deciding to change yourself, you quickly slipped into a comfortable, loose faded shirt and denim shorts.

Upon your return, you found Rafe intently examining the family photos that adorned your walls. The captured moments were a mix of joyful events and everyday life: you proudly holding up your first caught fish, a close-up with you and a school friend age seven with your front teeth missing, an affectionate snapshot of your parents in a tender embrace, and a cherished image of baby you, seated on your dad's lap at the piano. Each photo was a silent testament to days that were simpler, happier.

Rafe, towering in your small living room, shifted his gaze to the old piano settled in one corner. The instrument, though aged, held a simple grace.

“It’s not as grand as the one at your place,” you remarked gently, catching his attention. As his gaze shifted to you, there was a perceptible pause as his eyes traveled down to your legs and then resettled on your face.

"But it still has its charm, right?"

“I guess,” you shrugged, closing the distance between you two and handing him the towel and shirt.

Your fingers brushed with the exchange, sending a thrill through you. With a grateful nod, Rafe dried his head and face. He began to unbutton his shirt, pulling the wet fabric from his slacks, peeling it off his body. As he revealed inch after inch of lean muscle and beautifully tanned, unmarked skin, you couldn't help but admire the flawless appearance—a testament to his privileged Kook life.

“Can't take your eyes off, can you? Want a guided tour?” He teased.

“Dream on, Cameron,” you shot back, attempting to sound casual, but the playful glint in his eyes suggested he knew exactly the effect he was having on you. The sound of his confident chuckle filled the room with warmth.

“How long have you had it?” he inquired, head tilting towards the piano.

“You mean Betsy?”

Rafe smiled “It has a name?”

“Of course. We've had her as long as I can remember. My dad got her before I was born. She’s older than I am,” you confessed with a fond smile.

"Go on, play for me," Rafe murmured, the timbre of his voice making it feel less like a request and more like an intimate invite.

The memory of the last time you played for him, and what had ensued, made you take a deep breath. But you shook off the feeling, reminding yourself that your bench was, luckily, a one-seater. "I'll play," you said with a small smile, "but you've got to promise to behave."

Rafe chuckled, leaning back on the couch, wearing your dad's shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. His smirk was wicked and teasing, the very embodiment of temptation itself. "No promises."

Rolling your eyes. You took a seat on the bench and began to play, allowing the music to flow through your fingers. Each note resonated with the room, reflecting the myriad emotions swirling within you. The gentle glow of the room's lighting seemed to dance in tune with the melody, casting warm and shifting shadows. The scent of the rain outside mingled with the familiar smells of your home, creating an atmosphere of nostalgia and present moments intertwining. As the final note lingered in the air, caressing the silence that followed, you turned to find Rafe's gaze fixed intently on you. His eyes, laden with intensity and yearning.

“Come here,” he said softly, his voice filled with something deeper, something unspoken. He leaned back against the sofa, extending his hand to you.

With a deep breath, and a flutter in your chest, you walked towards him, finally straddling him, feeling the warmth and strength of him beneath you, knowing that this moment was a milestone, a turning point in whatever it was that was unfolding between you two.

Rafe's fingers delicately trailed along your thighs, taking in every curve and contour. He lingered for a moment on a mole on your left leg, brushing his thumb over its slightly elevated surface. Every touch ignited a fire on your skin, an intimate dance of warmth and desire. As his hands continued their exploration, they ascended up your sides and Rafe sat up.

Suddenly his hands wrapped around your neck, tipping your head back with a possessiveness that made you gasp. The raw strength in his grip was undeniable; he held the power to hurt you. But somewhere deep down, amidst the swirling mix of emotions, you felt an unwavering trust that he wouldn't.

With your head tilted back, you found yourself drowning in Rafe's gaze. He examined your features, delicately turning your face this way and that, softly illuminated by the nearby lamp. Every aspect of your countenance seemed to fascinate him, but it was his own features — the small scar above his right eyebrow, the striking high cheekbones, thick lashes, and those mesmerizing blue eyes — that captivated you in return. When those very eyes briefly lingered on your lips, and his thumb gently brushed against them a sharp inhale caught in your throat.

"So fuckin' pretty," Rafe breathed, the weight of his words heavy in the brief silence that followed. Then, with an urgency that stole your breath away, he captured your lips with his. His kiss was both tender and powerful, a dance of tongues and unspoken passion.

His hands moved from your neck, sliding beneath your shirt finally touching bare skin to wrap around you. The world seemed to tilt as he expertly turned, positioning you beneath him without breaking the kiss.

Rafe's fingers found the buttons of your shirt. Each one he undid was like unwrapping a gift, each sliver of exposed skin driving him further into a fervor kissing you deeper until he pulled away from your lips altogether to look down and savour your breasts.

“I knew it…” he whispered “You’re gorgeous...” and wasted no time in swirling his tongue around your pert nipple before sucking it into his mouth. His other hand kneading the tender flesh of your other breast oh so softly.

Rafe's touch sent waves of electricity coursing through your body, each sensation igniting the desire between your thighs. With every gentle tug, every teasing bite, you surrendered to your longing, your moans a symphony of need. While dampness formed at your core, evidence of your escalating arousal.

Leaving your nipple, his lips sought your cheek, his fingers deftly finding the button of your shorts, effortlessly undoing it. "I couldn't stop thinking about the way you squirted for me." he smiled, his voice a soft murmur in your ear.

"Ugh- Rafe, don't-" You couldn't help but groan, your hands instinctively covering your face in a mix of bashfulness and embarrassment.

"Come on, babe don't hide from me now," he urged, gently moving your hands away from your face. His unwavering gaze bore into you, with a magnetic intensity that held you captive. "It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen," he continued, his words wrapping around you like a sensual embrace. You responded with a mix of eye-rolling and a self-conscious laugh, but Rafe's touch on your jaw stilled your reaction.

"I'm serious," he insisted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Watching you moan for me all desperate and sweet. Feeling your pretty little pussy swallow my fingers... and then knowing I made you feel so fucking good you couldn't help but squirt…” Rafe groaned “Baby, I jerked off to the thought so many times I'm surprised my dick hasn't fallen off." he chuckled. "All I could think about these last few weeks was watching you cum. I wanna watch you cum." Rafe's words were a soft murmur, his unwavering gaze locked onto yours.

Adjusting his position slightly, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans shorts, a deliberate slowness in his movements as he eased them down your body. His breath quickened, his eyes devouring the sight of you in your white panties, damp with the evidence of your arousal.

Moistening his lips, he carefully tugged down your panties, guiding your legs free from their confines. He stared at your pussy taking his fill.

"Pretty as a picture," he whispered. Settling in beside you, he rested his head on his palm, his gaze fixed upon you. "I want to watch you cum, but this time..." Rafe tenderly parted your legs, cradling your knees and exposing you fully to the room's golden light. "This time, I want to see everything," he murmured.

His fingers traced the contours of your mound, the subtle hills and valleys of your skin. A light dusting of pubic hair added to the texture he was exploring. There, at your slit, a glistening collection of your arousal had formed. With a gentle touch, he collected a bead of it on his fingertip, his eyes locked onto your face. Bringing his finger to his lips, he sensually tasted you, an intense hunger gleaming in his gaze.

"I’ll need to eat this pussy too..." he murmured, nodding as if confirming an important task on his list of things to do. "But let's take it one step at a time, yeah? Don't want you running away from me anytime soon." His words held a trace of humor, a playful acknowledgment of the strained heated desires between you two. You were about to chastise him but his lips captured yours in a hungry kiss. While your mouths entwined, Rafe's finger moved back to your clit, his gentle movements coaxing a moan from your lips.

Just as you were sinking into his heavenly touch, Rafe broke the kiss and gently pulled his finger away from your clit. The absence of his touch almost prompted a whine from you, but Rafe quickly quieted you with a gentle shush. With a practiced finesse that revealed a glimpse of his dexterity, he employed his teeth to deftly remove the signet ring that encircled his finger. The ring glided off smoothly, lingering briefly within his mouth before finding its place in his pants pocket. His voice, laced with desire, broke the silence in a husky murmur, "Can’t go deep with a ring in the way, can we?” With deliberate intent, he returned his two fingers between your folds and wormed them inside you.

"Oh god, oh shit-" The fabric of Rafe's (or rather, your dad’s) shirt twisted beneath the force of your grip, your fingers curling and clenching as a flood of both pleasure and pain surged through your core. He was not lying when he said he was going to go deep.

Admitting comfort at this moment wouldn't be honest, not with the way his fingers were delving inside you, pushing against your tight channel. The fine line between discomfort and pleasure was being treaded, a line that teased just on the cusp of crossing into one or the other. Strangely, there was an undeniable allure in feeling so exquisitely full and it dawned on you that even with the mingling pain you liked being full.

With a mix of awe and submission, you embraced the realization that this was indeed what your body was designed for—an intricate dance of taking and being taken. The recognition of your body's innate capacity to accept him, to welcome him so completely, was a mesmerizing revelation that you couldn't help but marvel at.

As your gaze drifted downward, you couldn't help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at the sight that greeted you. His long, skillful fingers moved sinfully, withdrawing and reentering, each motion leaving them glistening with the evidence of your arousal. The sight and sound was hypnotic, and as a drawn-out moan escaped your lips, you couldn't help but notice Rafe's gaze following suit, his own reaction mirrored in the form of a needy groan.

"God, look at you. Taking it all the way to my palm... making a pretty mess." he quipped, his voice trembling with desire as a shaky chuckle escaped him. "Does it hurt?"

You gasped in response, the honesty ringing true in your voice, "A little."

A low, almost guttural groan escaped Rafe's lips, his tongue darting out to moisten his suddenly dry lips. "Yeah, but you like it, don't you? That slight twinge of pain. Hurts good, doesn't it?"

A slow, almost reverent nod escaped you as your eyes rolled backward, caught in the riptide of sensation. Your hand joined Rafe's at his wrist, a desperate yearning to connect more deeply with the source of your pleasure and the exquisite ache that accompanied it. You craved the sensation of his every stroke, each movement a testament to his mastery over your desire. Your hips began to sway, an instinctual response, seeking more friction, a little extra pressure to tip the scale just a bit further into pleasure. When you started to pluck and gently pull on your nipple you had finally reached it.

"Shit. That's it. Take what you need, baby.” He whispered. His tongue made its way back to your other nipple sucking on the tender flesh while he stared up at you. His gentle tongue swirling and firm hard fingers relentlessly drilling and your own hand gently plucking had you seeing stars and then some. You could feel his cock, thick and stiff brushing against your side as he rutted slowly against you seeking friction and for the first time you began to whine in sheer desperation, wishing he had fucked you with his cock instead.

"Use your words, baby," Rafe's voice held an almost teasing quality. "I want to know how good it feels—for next time when you accuse me of forcing you..."

You should have been mad, outraged even, by his audacity. But there was a magnetic pull in his words, a spell that rendered your protests powerless against the tide of pleasure that had you firmly in its grasp. The chorus of moans that spilled from your lips was a testament to your surrender "Don't stop- feels so good. Oh god, ‘m close. So close. Please Rafe-- please.. please... please.." Your words quivered with a mixture of urgency and need, punctuated by the ragged rhythm of your breath as your body shook.

As if on cue, Rafe applied a cork-screw motion, his fingers expertly stroking your G-spot with fervor. Your orgasm surged forth, violent and all-consuming. Waves of ecstacy coursed through your body, compelling your abdomen to convulse, and your leg to kick, a response to Rafe speeding up his efforts, fingers plunging deep while his thumb orchestrated rapid blissful circles on your clit.

"OH, FUCK-- OH RAFE!!!" Your voice filled the room as you were swept away in the throes of your orgasm. You couldn’t help but soak his fingers, and like a breached dam, overflowing and cascading, so too did your juices overflow as it trickled down to the cleft of your ass.

"Fuck—" Rafe hissed, his voice strained. "Ah, shit!" he sneered through clenched teeth. Overwhelmed at the sight, feel and sound of you screaming his name, his hips involuntarily jerked as he came. An untouched release that left him gasping for breath. His moans blended with yours, a beautiful song of shared pleasure that only ended when he leaned in for a messy kiss.

His gaze never wavered; it feasted on every second of your reaction and revelled in the glorious aftermath. You were glowing, skin flushed and alive from the intensity of your climax. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat glistening off of your exposed breasts. Legs still spread, revealing the slippery mess with his fingers buried deep in you.

If you weren't so strung out from your orgasm, the opportunity to catch a glimpse of something more in his expression might have presented itself. A fleeting flicker of his unwavering fixation taking root, a mere hint of the deeper obsession he harbored for you. But instead your eyes closed, your lips forming a satisfied, lopsided grin. You couldn’t think. In fact, you couldn't care about anything at all.

Feedback is always appreciated. Lots of love until next time and thanks for reading.

UPDATES - PART 3 / MASTERLIST

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x you #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x fem!reader #18+ read #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x female reader #dirtytomatoedwrites

804 notes · View notes

jjmaybanksbaby · 3 years

Text

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer III

Part 06: Round And Round

series masterlist | previous part

summary: It seems like the stars have finally aligned to give Rafe Cameron and you a summer of blissful happiness.

a/n: This got a little longer than I expected but I'm not mad at it. I had to give them at least one summer of being cute together before the other shoe drops. The final part to this series will be out Thursday!

word count: 3.2k words (warning this gets decently smutty 18+)

The Island Club had a special glow to it as the sun sunk below the horizon and the thousands of fairy lights strung up around the yard flickered on. A breeze rippled through the warm summer air, making the perfect kind of weather. You took in the sight. The people mingling on the lawn, all dressed in their best clothing. Waiters dashing around, keeping everyone's drinks filled. Bits and pieces of conversations floated up into the night.

You'd finally settled on a long, black satin gown with a deep v-neck that’d you'd found hidden away on the sale rack. Your mother had fussed over how plain it was and how much skin it showed but you were sure it was the right dress from the moment you slipped it on. You'd agreed to let your mom twist your hair into a single braid that fell down your back and she’d stuck bobby-pins with tiny rhinestones in at random intervals. You had painted your lips a deep crimson red to pull it all together.

You were starting to understand the appeal of the whole thing. There was a certain feeling of glamour to the night. Your eyes roamed the lawn noticing Cleo and Milo snuggled close together on the dance floor, swaying to the soft music playing. That was new. Good for them. They looked happy together.

Most people were already here since your Nonna had insisted on being fashionably late.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you heard Rafe's voice from behind you. You turned around and the sight of him made your mind go blank. You'd let yourself picture how Rafe Cameron might look in a suit but the real deal was so much better.

Rafe cleared his throat snapping you back to reality. "You look nice," he said, the compliment bringing a smile to your face.

"You too, Cameron."

"Hey, come with me. I wanna talk to you." He reached down, taking your hand and you slipped your fingers between his, letting him lead you back inside. Almost every person you passed seem to know Rafe and smiled at him or stopped for a quick "hello."

He pulled open a heavy door and ushered you inside. It was the same bathroom where you'd meet Sarah for the first time while trying to escape boring lunch small talk. What were you doing here? Rafe leaned down, checking that all the stalls were in fact empty before turning the hatch on the door to lock it.

Rafe smiled at you widely. "Hi," he muttered as he brought his hand up to cup your face, running his thumb over your cheek.

The butterflies sprung up in your stomach almost immediately.

"Hi," you said back quietly, afraid of breaking the moment.

He walked you backward gently until you felt the cool wall against the exposed skin of your back.

His mouth was dangerously close to yours. His other hand landed on your thigh and he slowly slide it upwards. You weren't sure if you cursed buying a dress with such a high slit or were grateful for the easy access.

“Rafe, we can't do this again. Not here,” you warned but you were sure he could see right through your words. “We were both drunk last time.”

“And I’m completely sober now.” His hand inched closer to your core.

“Do you even remember it?”

“Do you really think I would have dragged you in here and have you pressed up against this wall if I didn’t? Yes, I remember it y/n. I remember the whole very clearly.”

Rafe dropped his voice to just above a whisper. He smoothed his thumb over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want this.” But you did want. You wanted it so badly it was killing you. Every bit of you turned to jelly under his touch and you wanted Rafe’s hands all over your body. You had zero interest in telling him to stop. His fingers ghosted over your underwear and you let out a whine without realizing it. “See, I’m barely even touching you and you’re already whining for me.”

Your forehead dropped to his shoulder as he moved your underwear aside, dipping his fingers into your folds.

“Ah, ah, ah. Look at me, baby.” Rafe said, pushing your head back upright before he moved his hand down to wrap his fingers around your throat. His eyes meet yours. This was a different side of Rafe. Rougher and wild but incredibly sexy.

Another moan caught in your throat as he pushed two fingers inside of you. “Fuck, Rafe.”

Your back arched off the wall and a loud moan tumbled off your lips as he hit the sweet spot inside of you. “Good girl,” Rafe praised. His words turning you on even more.

Rafe could tell you were nearing your climax and slide his fingers out suddenly.

“Fuck you, Cameron,” you spit.

He laughed. “Please, it couldn’t be more evident that you want to,” he replied, hiking your dress all the way up to your waist, pulling your lacy underwear down to the floor before undoing his belt and kicking his own pants off. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt, desperately pulling it open to run your hands over his beautifully chiseled abdomen.

His clothed dick, bulging out of his boxers, rubbed against your clit and your hips bucked up automatically, craving the friction.

Rafe ran his thumb over your bottom lip, slipping it into your mouth as it naturally fell open. “God, you look so fucking hot right now y/n. So so pretty.” He pushed your hips back against the wall, harshly. “But let’s remember, I’m in charge here.”

“Please, Rafe,” you begged. You knew he was going to keep teasing you, loving the way you squirmed under his words.

Rafe pushed his boxer down this knees freeing his hard cock before pulling a condom out of the jacket, unrolling it over his dick. He lined it up with your entrance, pushing into your slowly. The pace almost making you cry out.

“Jesus, Cameron. Fuck me already if you’re going to,” you hissed, annoyed with the ends he was pushing you to.

Rafe chuckled, his eyes locked with yours as he slammed his whole length into you. You bit down on your bottom lip trying to stay quiet.

Rafe reached down, hooking your leg around his waist so he could enter you at a new angle. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder, holding onto him for support. Your breath hitched as his thumb began to rub small circles on your clit.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," Rafe said, his own breathing uneven. "I needed to do this again."

His mouth attached to your neck, kissing and sucking and you were sure you would find a hickey there tomorrow morning. He rested his forehead on yours, your mouths an inch apart.

You could feel your release growing closer and closer. Rafe's own movements were getting sloppy and desperate. He closed the distance, landing his lips on yours, catching your moans as you came undone. He continued to kiss you, slipping his tongue into your mouth, finishing just seconds later.

Neither of you moved for a few moments, savoring the feeling of just holding each other. Your lips met again, the kiss was sweet and slower but still full of passion.

“That was a super productive conversation, Cameron,” you joked.

“I didn’t come here to have one.” He smirked, moving away from you to slip back on his pants. You walked over to the mirror to evaluate how disheveled Rafe’s impromptu due need to fuck had left you. Some piece of hair had sipped out of your braid but they framed your face nicely making it look almost intentional so you could definitely get away with it. Your red lipstick was noticeably gone. If your mom got suspicious, you’d have to blame it on not being able to find a straw. Though the stain on Rafe’s own lips might give you away.

Rafe came up from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. You watched his movements in the mirror.

With a face like pretty it really was no surprise you found yourself in situations like this. Not that you were complaining. But Rafe had this pull on you that was truly indescribable but impossible to resist.

“Should we get back out there?” You asked. “People might start wondering where you went.”

“Let them,” Rafe replied, placing another kiss on your neck, just below the edge of your jaw. It was your favorite place to feel his lips on you. That spot in particular sent a shiver through your body whenever he kissed it.

“I’ll go first and you follow in five minutes.”

“We can just leave together,” he countered.

“Phoebe might see.”

Rafe hesitated, picking up on the double meaning of your words but wanting to avoid a fight over it. “Okay. You go first.”

☼☼☼

You let yourself get pulled into Rafe Cameron’s orbit for the remainder of the summer. You became a regular figure at the group’s parties, becoming especially fast friends with Riley as you spent more time together and bonded over the world that was high school theater. Milo had claimed you as his beer pong partner from the beginning and the two of you had managed to remain undefeated. The evenings usually ended in you and Rafe sneaking away to his house or yours, the culmination of sly glances and flirtatious winks you’d been teasing each other with the entire time. You left your window perpetually unlocked and learned how to dart across the Cameron’s front lawn without making the motion-sensor lights go off.

One summer night, near the middle of July, you were standing on Rafe's front porch having slipped out quietly when the light clicked on illuminated the yard, You froze, fearing you'd been caught by Rose or worse by Ward but instead, Sarah stepped out of the shadows, her eyes equally wide with fear of being caught.

"Shit, she cursed, half giggling. "I usually don't make that go off."

"Where have you been?" You asked her playfully.

"I meet a boy," she confessed.

Your features contorted into a smile seeing the happiness radiating off Sarah.

"Aw Sarah. I'm so happy for you. Just be safe, okay?" It was hard to believe but Sarah was now the same age you'd been when you and Rafe had first meet.

"Don't worry, y/n. Nothing's even happened. We just sit in his room, talking for hours," she paused, finally realizing the strangeness of you standing on her front porch in the early hours of the morning. "Oh my God. Wait? Are you and Rafe...? It’s about time."

You held out your hand to shush her. The look on your face giving away all your secrets.

"You're good for him," Sarah added. "You're good for each other."

The light clicked off again, the darkness of the night enveloping the two of you.

"That's my cue." You reached out, pulling Sarah in for a quick hug, placing a loving kiss in her blonde hair.

"Bye." She squeezed her arms tighter around your waist before letting go.

☼☼☼

You knocked on the door of Sawyer's pool house, the location the group had decided on for the night after a rather fierce argument in the group chat, one you had pointedly stayed our off. Rafe opened the door, smiling at your presence before stepping outside, pulling the door closed behind him.

He leaned down for a kiss. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," you replied, your lips meeting his.

His hand automatically reached for yours. "C'mon. I wanna do something fun tonight."

"But isn't everyone in there?" You pointed behind him.

"Yeah, but it's just gonna be the same boring thing. Sawyer's drunk already because he can't hold his alcohol for shit. Phoebe thinks we should hit up some touran's party. And Cleo and Milo are no-shows. So let’s go do something else."

You shrugged. You'd much rather have Rafe all to yourself anyway. "Okay, where are we going?"

“It’s a surprise.”

Ten minutes later and Rafe was pulling into the desert parking lot of his high school. “Welcome to the Kook Academy. That’s not it’s actual name but everyone on the island just calls it that since none of the pogues can afford to go here.”

The lofty walls of the private school loomed above you. It looked like a fucking castle that belonged in the rolling heels of Europe, definitely not in the middle of North Carolina.

“C’mon. You can see practically the entire island from the roof.”

“How the hell are we gonna get up there?” You asked.

“The lacrosse team pulled this sweet prank last season and I still have the keys to the roof. Plus, it’s summer. No one’s even here.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Rafe Cameron.”

He leaned across the middle console, sliding a hand being your neck and pulling your face close into his. “I promise it’ll be worth it,” he said before landing his lips on yours.

Soon you were climbing into his lips, straddling his hips. The roof-top adventure temporarily put on hold. You gripped his blonde locks as his hands worked their way under your shirt.

"I thought we were breaking into your high school?" You tesed.

"We are. Right now, I'm just trying to break into your bra," Rafe answered.

"Okay." You shoved his hand away. "On account of the fact that that was the worst comeback I've ever heard, let's go."

"I can't help it. Your tits were distracting me," he answered, trying to reach for them again.

You swatted his hand away "Rafe."

"Party pooper," he replied with a frown.

"You're such a drama queen." You leaned down for a quick kiss, tearing your lips away before he had the chance to pull you in deep.

Rafe hadn't lied. The view from the roof was breathtaking. You could see all the way to the end of the island from the top of the fourth-story building. The cars moving below were tiny dots, the people even smaller. You stood at the edge, your eyes fixed on the churning ocean stretching beyond the horizon. The whole thing felt eternal.

Rafe's eyes watched your own, the glint in them growing as you took in the sight.

"Holy shit, Rafe. This is amazing," you said, wrapping your arms tight around his neck, not looking away from the skyline.

"I thought you might think so."

The two of you stayed like that and watched the sun disappear below the horizon in a blaze of orange and pink glory before the dark night sky littered with brights stars replaced it.

The wind nipped at your skin, fiercer up here than on the ground. It made you snuggle into Rafe's side, stealing his body heat to stay warm.

"Ready to go back down?" Rafe asked.

"Not yet." You weren't prepared for this moment to end. You longed to stay in it, here, with him, for as long as you could.

"Okay," Rafe answered, pulling your back closer into his chest and wrapping his arms tighter around you to fight off the cold. "Okay," he repeated. He let a few more minutes pass before breaking the silence again.

“I bought you something.”

You turned to face him, eyebrows raised in surprise. Rafe had money, obvious, but you never knew him to be much of a gift-giver. Mostly, because he was hyperaware that the money belonged to Ward, not him. Rafe reached into his back pocket, producing a small black velvet box. You took it from his outstretched hands and opened it. Inside, lay a beautiful gold necklace with a single dainty star.

You look up at Rafe tears welling in your eyes from the romantic gesture. Your heart swelled. “Oh my God. I love it, Rafe.” I love you. You stopped yourself before those three little words, three words more explosive than dynamite, had the chance to slip out as well.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s only a necklace. Want me to put it on you?”

You nodded, handing Rafe back the box. You lifted up your hair up with one hand and he carefully draped the necklace around your neck, fastening the clasp in the back.

Rafe smiled at the look of it hanging around your neck like a reminder that you always had him, that you would always have him.

“Thank you, babe. I seriously love it.” You took the necklace between your fingers peering down at it.

“Anything for my girl.”

☼☼☼

Hours later, you were back in Rafe’s room, laying on top of him, your naked stomachs pressed together, your head resting on his chest, your legs intertwined beneath the comforter. Rafe ran his index finger lazily up and down your arm, goosebumps springing up in its wake. You lifted your head off his chest to look at him.

“I think we should maybe talk about what happened last summer," you started.

“Why?” He asked back.

“Uh, cause you told me to pick and I didn’t pick you. But then I get back to the Outer Banks and we sleep together within the first week.”

“But you’re not dating Evan anymore.”

“Right.”

“So what’s there to talk about. You’re free to fuck anybody you want. Preferably me, right now, again.” He eagerly moved you so that your already sensitive core, from the night's earlier activities, was straddling his thigh. You groaned at the contact, quickly shifting away as not to let him distract you from the conversation.

“What about Phoebe?” You asked.

“What about Phoebe?”

“Well, you took her to Midsummers.”

“Cause we’re friends and I knew it would make Ward happy.”

You paused. “But we’re friends.”

“Baby, trust me. Phoebe and I are not the same kind of friends me and you are.” His palm landed on your back, rubbing small comforting circles.

"Meaning you're not sleeping with her?" The words came as a question, though you’d meant it as a statement.

"Definitely not." Rafe paused. "It's just you."

This was the closest you'd come to having the 'What are we?' conversation. You had suspected the two of you had been exclusive for some time but it was refreshing to hear Rafe say it aloud.

"Yeah, it's just you for me too," you replied.

You started to move off Rafe's warm body. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“I gotta get home. My mom’s started going on these crazy 6 a.m morning runs and I’m afraid she’s gonna catch me sneaking it.” You leaned down to kiss him again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ward and I are leaving for those college visits tomorrow.”

Oh shit, you had forgotten about that. “And my flight back’s the week after that.” The implication of your words hung in the air. The summer was coming to a close and you couldn’t stop it.

“It’s okay y/n. We’ll call and text during the school year and next summer you’ll be back.”

“Right,” you agreed, trying to ignore the sinking feeling growing in your stomach. You had the summer-fling of your dreams with Rafe and here he was promising to stay in touch so why didn’t it feel good? Why didn't it feel right?

“I gotta go. Have a good trip.” You took Rafe's face in your hands hoping to kiss away the uneasy feeling. Rafe's hands wandered down to cup your butt, pulling you back on top of him.

“Rafe...” you trailed off as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“Shhh,” he mumbled back.

You knew you should probably pull yourself away from him, staying would cut it too close with your mom but the way his hands roamed your body was making it hard to think about anything rationally. He rolled your hips against his already hard-again dick. Fuck, the things this boy did to you were dangerous. Besides, maybe this would distract you from that achy feeling you had about the future so you let yourself kiss Rafe back desirously.

But two weeks later, as the tires of your plane lifted off the runway, en route back to Oregan, that feeling hadn’t gone away in the slightest.

taglist! @oreoenthusiast13 [drop a ☀️ in my inbox or messages if you want to be added]

#outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #obx #obx netflix #obx fanfic #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron smut

69 notes · View notes