#drew starkey obx

[rafescurtainbangz]

[heavenblvd]

saw this tiktok where a girl jumped out of her bf’s moving car because she was losing an argument, and i’m thinking of that with rafe and fem!reader but with a twist to it <3

✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩

rafe had hauled you into his truck, slamming the passenger door shut. anger was pumping through him, and he hastily got into the driver’s side, pressing on the gas to drive away from the party.

he was mad at you for not only wearing a short dress, but was mad at the fact men were giving you attention because of it. you knew very well that even if other males were to give you attention or flash you a charming smile, they knew better than to ever approach rafe cameron’s girl.

but for some reason, that knowledge didn’t stick to rafe’s own brain.

“my girl is out here, dressing like a fucking slut!” rafe yelled, and you rolled your eyes, ignoring the complete fact he was going 100MPH over the speed limit.

you would be okay with getting in a car accident at this very moment. maybe he would kick in some conscious or decent common sense into his head.

“want me to dress like i’m fuckin’ amish or something, rafe?” you asked, scoffing. “i get you want control or whatever, but my style is up for me to decide. not my fault you’re insecure.”

rafe’s head immediately snapped in your direction, eyes bulking with rage and madness, like a bomb about to go off. “the fuck did you just tell me?” he asked, mindlessly not paying attention the road in front of him.

“said its a not my fault you’re insecure,” you repeated, grinning happily. “a man who knows what he’s secures with doesn’t fucking trip every minute — all you do is worry, and get mad at the attention people give me.”

“i’ll throw you out this fuckin’ car right now,” he threatened, and you shrugged, picking at your acrylic nails. “leave you on the side of the road for someone else to get you.”

“yeah, hopefully it’s topper or cameron,” you said, bored of rafe’s threats. when you date a guy like him for over a year, doesn’t take much to start yawning and getting tired of his bullshit.

“you’re a whore,” he went on, and you hummed, glad to see he at least had his eyes back on the road. “parading yourself around like some tramp. looks like i’m with a fuckin’ pogue or something.”

“said you’ll throw me out of this car, right?” you wondered, taking off your seatbelt, and rafe eyed you for a hast moment. “i’ll just do the job for you,” you unlocked the passenger door, throwing your stilettos and purse out before you could proceed with them.

rafe reflexively pulled you backwards by the back hemming of your strapless dress, his other hand stern on the wheel. “what the fuck is wrong with you!” he shouted, slamming on his brakes in the middle of the road, and put the car in park. he tugged you back into your seat, and grabbed your jaw roughly, forcing eye contact. “some sorta attention seeker, huh baby? just trying to piss me off more.”

“thought i’d stick to your word for you,” you told him, and he panted heavily, his boiled anger coming visible to you. you only smiled, flashing doe eyes at him while batting your lashes. “can you grab my purse and shoes, then? least you can do, rafe.”

he let go of your jaw, staring at you for a moment with thoughts toppling all in his mind on what to do with you. he got out of the truck, went to grab your stuff, and tossed it down on your lap when he returned.

“you’re some fuckin’ surprise, baby,” rafe said, continuing the drive back to tannyhill. “you’re in for it when we get back home.”

[ipetite69]

·̩͙ ₊ ᨦ ♡ ᨩ ໋₊ ·̩͙

rafe's primary love language is definitely physical touch.

⋆

[tetragonia]

sorry I might be a bit horny but I really need him on top of me.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Interrupted- Drew Starkey

Request by @wpdailyminimeta! I have actually saved a few of her requests so there will be more 💜

Summary - Drew comes home from work, getting interrupted while riding him.

Warnings - Sexual Intercourse, oral, choking, language. 18+

Drew has been away filming for 6 weeks; this was his first consecutive 4 days off since he started, it had been tough on the both of you. He was on the first flight home the moment filming stopped. He surprised you as you lounged on the couch reading a book, the sound of his key in the lock had you sprinting to the door, throwing your body onto his, his arm gripped you tightly to his body while juggling his luggage with his free hand.

“God, I bloody missed you” you mumbled against his lips, dropping his bag on the floor, slamming the door closed with his foot. He walked the two of you over to the couch, laying you down against the cushion. His body hovered over yours, you chased his lips pushing yourself up on your elbows. “I missed you” he smiled as you mouth caught his lower lip, grazing your teeth against his lip and pulled him down against you.

“I will ask you all about filming but right now I really need your cock” you announced, giving him your best puppy eyes. His chest vibrated against yours as he laughed loudly at your honesty. “Drew!” you whined, kissing down his jaw and sucking at the skin of his neck. Your legs wrap around his waist pulling his groin against yours. “My needy little baby” he whispered, grinding his hips into yours.

You whine when he pulls away, watching him intently as he pulls his t-shirt over his head, your fingers danced across his chest and down to his abs. Looping your fingers into his belt hoops and smashing your lips to his, your tongues meshed together messily as his hand slid under your t shirt, a delighted groan escapes him when his fingers meet your bare breast.

He slid down your body, pushing your t-shirt up until it sat under your chin. His lips kissed your stomach slowly, eyes never leaving yours as he made his way up your body. Covering your hard nipples with his mouth, sucking harshly. “Missed your mouth” you mumbled, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he worked on both your breasts. “What else?” he questioned, he helps you pull your shirt off and begins pulling your shorts down your legs along with your panties.

“Your fingers... missed your fingers” you groans, gasping when he pushes your knees apart, exposing your soaked core. He all but growls at the sight of your crying cunt, he squeezes your thighs and slides his hand towards your pussy. Your body jolts from the cushion when he runs a finger through your folds, a cry leaves your lips. “And?”.

“fuck… Drew… I- I missed your tongue” you stutter, his eyes meet yours and he dips his body low. You gnaw on your lower lip to hide your moan, watching intently as he drops his tongue and takes a rough lick between your lips. “fuck” He growls, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against his tongue.

His movements are ruthless, he devours your pussy like it’s his last meal. His nose nudges at your swollen clit as his tongue teases your opening, his mouth moves away from your hole up towards your clit and sucking harshly. Your body arches from the couch, pushing the back of your head into the cushions. His hand slides from your hip up to your stomach to push you back down, your fingers claw at his arm. “Jesus Christ! OH GOD!!”.

“Not god baby, just me” he mumbles pushing two fingers deep inside of you, you cry out from the intrusion, but your hips have a mind of their own and buck against him. “Please Drew, I need you” you beg, pushing at the top of his head as your orgasm begins to spread from your toes. “Cum first” he orders, he doesn’t let up his movements.

His tongue sucks and his fingers fuck you roughly, your nails scratch harshly at his scalp. Hips bouncing of the couch chasing the high. Your toes curl and eyes squeeze shut, pleasure floods your veins, and a sweat develops on your skin. “HOLY SHIT… YE-YES!”.

“That’s it baby girl, come all over these fingers” He whispers, lapping up the arousal that flows out of you. He doesn’t let up his movements until your body falls back onto the couch and shivers violently from the orgasm. “Such a good girl, taste so fucking good” he states, with hooded eyes you watch as his sucks on his fingers, cleaning himself up.

“I missed you so damn much” you choked, pushing him to sit against the couch and straddling him. You didn’t even realise he had removed his pants, hard girthy cock laying against his stomach. His eyes followed your every movement, your thumb rubbing the precum around his pink tip. “Missed this cock the most though” you giggled, sucking on the pad of your thumb tasting the saltiness of him.

“Yeah? I bet you did… my good girl probably touched herself thinking about it inside her sweet tight cunt” He growled, stomach clenching when your fingers wrapped around his shaft. You give him soft tugs, his mouth dropping open and head falling back. “Mhmm, used my vibrator thinking about how your cock has me choking and sobbing every time it’s inside me” You whisper into his ear, kissing along his cheek and hovering over his lips.

His eyes are dark and hooded, his hand reaches between you and engulfs your throat. Squeezing harshly, bringing your lips to his. He bites your lower lip and pulls on it softly, your voice is stuck in your throat, but you so badly want to tell him what a good boy he is. “Sit on my cock now” he ordered; his free hand holds the base of his cock.

The grip on your throat is strong enough to stop you from looking between the both of you, he lets you guide your hips up. The tip of his cock nudges at your opening, he doesn’t let you move though. Teasing your opening with his tip. “I want you to go slow” he states, his eyes are looking at where your about to meet. You nod your head, and he lets you drop down; your legs shake as you force yourself to move slowly.

“fuck… how is it possible you feel tighter” He groans, his cock throbs as you move down. Your pussy eats him as slow as you can go until he’s buried deep inside of you. “don’t move”.

Your brain feels fuzzy, walls pulsating around him as you force yourself to stay still. “please” you whine, you clench around him, and he grips your throat tighter. “Okay baby, show me how much you missed me” He whispers, kissing your lips again. His fingers don’t leave your throat though, squeezing every time you clench around him. You’re bouncing on him hard, your pussy wept for him soaking him with your arousal.

Breathy moans and curse words bounce of the walls of the living room. “Faster y/n” Drew orders, he drops his fingers from your throat and grips your hips. He is helping you bouncer faster; your tits bounce wildly but he’s watching your face. Loving the way, it screws up when your getting closer to climax. He notices the spec of blood that seeps from the small cut on your lower lip that you must have just done. His palm holds your face, pointing you to look down at him.

Your eyes are half closed and your mouth open, his thumb brushes your lower lip to rid the blood. His lips chase yours and your tongues explore one another’s. “I-I’m close” You mumble, the familiar sensation chases you ruthlessly. He nods his head and pushes himself deeper, toying with your clit he helps you reach that high. “You first” he groans, his own orgasm spreads through his lower stomach.

Your so close that when the door to the house opens and your best friend steps through the threshold in complete shock of the two of you, you don’t even stop your movements. She let's out a shriek and you look at her and roll your eyes, looking back at Drew when goes to stop you and glare down at him.

“I am sorry but I’m not stopping so get out or I will kill you” You state, Drew stares at you partially shocked and turned on. His fingers grip you hard when he feels your walls flutter around him and presses his forehead into your chest.

You hear a grumble and the door close and you’re immediately coming hard and fast, your orgasm is so intense your vision all but blacks out and you’re screaming above him. Strings of curse words spew from your lips; buzzing goes off in your ear drums. You’re trembling above him when he reaches his own orgasm and shoots his load deep inside of you, you can’t breathe or speak.

It's silent for a few moments while you both regain your breaths. “Missed me that much hey?” Drew jokes, kissing your shoulder. Both your chests rise and fall harshly, and you let out a strained laugh. “Yeah, I did”.

“Do you think we traumatised her?” He questioned, looking back towards the front door with a smile on his face. You let out a loud chuckle and shake your head. “Babe, this isn’t the first time she’s walked in on us.” You admit, his eyes widen at your words. “it’s better I don’t tell you”.

“Yeah, don’t tell him!’ Your best friends’ yells from behind the door and you look back down at Drew with a sheepish smile. “What! She’s my best friend”. It’s all but forgotten when your lips meet his again and your sure his cock is hardening inside of you. “Round two?”.

Tag list- @laylasbunbunny @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @alltoomay @mrssturnioloo @vigilanteshitposting @darleneslane @tierra-0604 @xo-hayleyy-xo @ethereal0810 @eliana772 @gabys-gabs @applelovesposts @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @hdhdhsy @speedycomputerfury @hallecarey1 @tiacordelia02 @loverofdrewstarkey @bbycowboi @teresalesbian @imnotpretzelsstuff @its-ria-07 @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @pedrisgatorade (If you no longer want to be tagged please let me know and if you want to be tagged please comment here )

[drewsephrry]

rafe cameron's wife moodboard

[meiiie]

I wanna eat his biceps ong... i'm screaming

[aemvnd]

𝓇.cameron. ┆ mini tattoo.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ sry i needed to get this filth outta my system . <3

rafe cameron is the type of motherfucker that wants to put his mark on you, to mark up your soft, smooth, flawless skin in the most nasty, vile, delicious ways he can imagine. all rafe can imagine is branding your soft, vanilla-scented skin with his name—or perhaps, just his initials in some delicate, dainty writing in fancy, cursive letters across your flawless skin. it'll really rile rafe up if you get a mini tattoo of his initials right above on your freshly waxed bikini area, all pretty and sweet and oh, the possessive look in rafe's steel blue eyes is downright dangerous, practically sinful, knowing you'll never be able to truly leave him—not anymore, not since he had slithered his way into your fragile, gentle, and overly sensitive little heart that feels so much love for him, that's just too easy for him to influence. and meanwhile, just as rafe has paid to get his initials tattooed across your skin, forever on your body, for eternity—rafe is just as branded as you're, you also have left your mark on him, only... your branding is in the very center of his heart, your name carved in big, bold letters—you're his, just as much as rafe is yours.

[nymphie-mama]

i feel it coming

pairing rafe cameron x fwb!reader

summary in which the reader needs some love and care, and only rafe can give it.

warnings smut. she/her prns. rafe in love. f!oral. fingering. riding. 

request can u do a rafe cameron x reader based off of the song feel it coming by the weeknd? - anon (this request is really old and was surprisingly difficult)

When you accidentally found yourself in a “friends with benefits” relationship with Rafe, you were not expecting it to be like this.

Rafe was gentle when he needed to be (rarely). He knew not to rush with you, both romantically and sexually. He took his time and was very attentive to you, which you were sure was not common with him. No one made you feel as good as Rafe did, and he made it a point to keep it that way.

His feathery touches to your arms and thighs were enough to start a pool between your thighs. His rich voice in your ears told you how beautiful you looked or how much he couldn’t wait to ruin you later.

He really couldn’t wait, either.

“I can see it in your eyes,” he whispered over, “You can’t wait either.” His hand trailed under your skirt ever so lightly under the table. Your breath hitched as his palm covered your panties, and your shoulders tensed when he pushed them to the side.

“Topper and Kelce are right there,” you said, looking over at the couch in front of you.

“They’re paying attention to the movie,” he said, making you gasp as he plunged a finger into the dripping heat between your legs. “Plus, your body never lies. All this for me?”

Your eyes shut and you nodded. Rafe slowly plunged his finger in and out of you, adding a second after just a few plunges.

Soon enough, it became too much and the pair of you were rushing upstairs to his room. He wasted no time in sliding your lacey panties off your legs and lifting your skirt. 

The way his tongue moved over your slit was otherworldly. His fingers gave attention to your hole, while his tongue was focused on your mound. Rafe on his knees for you was becoming your favorite sight, and right now you were having a hard time looking away. 

You noticed the growing tent in his lap, but you were feeling too high to care. Rafe knew what he was doing. 

He continued tracing patterns onto your clit, using his free hand to palm his erection. You could feel his groans against you, and every little thing he did was bringing you closer to your high. He felt it too. 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he said, barely coming from between your legs. 

Like a command, your high came over you like a feeling of ecstasy. He laid open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, grazing them lightly. 

“You taste so good,” he said, groaning and coming up to kiss you. 

“Yeah? Let me taste you now.”

taglist: @maybankslover (send me an ask to join the taglist!)

[notmuchtofind]

public eye pt2 | d.s

tw: low appetite, possible miscarriage, cheating

pt 1 here

a/n: it’s finally out lol!! tysm for the interaction on the past fic🥹 i hope you enjoy! lmk your thoughts x

"drew if it's not what you want and it's what I eventually want, are we even right for each other? What are we doing? You don't care for me like you usto, you're not the same. you're a dick" you say trying not to shout

"I don't know what I want right now?" Drew states, not looking you in the eyes.

How's he being so calm? Why is he doing this? This is not like drew.

"fuck you." You stand up out of the chair and walk right out of the cafe doors, tears start streaming down your face and you try to hide your face with the palm of your hand...

*snap* followed by a flicker

*snap* *snap*

fuck.

you look around...

"Is that paparazzi?" you mumble to yourself 

you walk faster to your car, quickly opening the door and throwing your bag on the backseat, you fumble to turn the engine on and see slight flickers through the rearview mirror...this is the last thing you need right now.

_________________________

After setting your keys aside on the kitchen table and kicking your shoes off, you immediately undressed out of the clothes you had picked out to see Drew in and chucked on your dressing. spending the rest of that day on the couch. Tears would brim in your eyes, often spilling over through the course of the day as you'd replay what had been said by drew in your mind. And there was no text from him. no apology, no checking up on you, no nothing...maybe this was really over? It seemed to all happen so quickly. How could you go from, what people knew as the 'IT' couple, to being, well...nothing.

Passed out on the couch, you are awoken by the pinging of notifications coming from your phone. In a dazed state your initial thought is that Drews trying to get hold of you. Your hand fumbles around the couch as you follow the sound trying to relocate the phone. You pick it up, eyes half wide, and check the time. 4:07am.

"fuck" you mumble too yourself, you've been on this couch for nearly 12 hours...

As your eyes wander down from the timestamp at the top of your phone screen, you lock your gaze onto the first notification.

Twitter : @drewobxlover03 Tagged you in a post.

'okay, pretty normal?' you think to yourself 

but as your sleepy eyes drift down some more...

6,789 more.

You quickly adjust your position on the couch, now sitting up as your back leans against the arm of it... your gaze widens.

Too caught up in your own trail of thoughts and distress when you entered your home earlier, The flickers from the paparazzi camera didn't even cross your mind. You were used to it to say the least, but you'd forgotten the difference in what they may have captured earlier on...

Your finger glides over the notifications and swipes to open.

You're met with a picture grid.

A "slideshow" full of your swollen teary face. Drews hands flailing around at you through the cafe windows. your figure towering over drew as you got up out of your seat. You abruptly dash out of the cafe doors...

The number on your twitter activity heading just keeps rising... and rising. 

A pit in your stomach starts to grow, but You can't help but click on more, its a bad idea... 

Met by more photos of you from different angles, red streaks from tears that have trailed down your cheeks. Feelings of embarrassment overcome your being.

until the embarrassment turns into dismay.

Your palm meets your mouth, shocked by the images on your phone screen, you're breathed.

They're in a car...pictures of him, and her... touching her face?...They're laughing? they’re way too close for your liking.

your heart begins swelling with hurt, you feel a physical pain ache within your chest, thoughts that it may almost rupture.

You scan the comments, your thumb appears to be scrolling too fast for your eyes to catch up. 

@user0844628495: OMFG HE DIDN'T TT!!???

@Chaseforeverxoxo: I never liked y/n anyways lol.

@obxstufffff: Who is she??? 

@starkeyandy/l/n20: no no no no!!! please, I don't believe in true love fr :((((((

@user984763097: I hate men.

You should've known from the moment Drew was being distant after he started shooting for the new film that there was something off, that he'd possibly found another girl. it just never seemed to cross your mind. Not your drew? Not after nearly 4 years and especially not after you guys were so public with your relationship. 

Maybe it lingered in your subconscious...but your heart was too heavy to allow yourself to slip that possibility to the front of your mind. You feel like a fool.

The only person who knew you and drew just as equally was Madelyne. After phoning her up and apologising for how late it was, you explained the situation. she offered to come round and comfort you, and you allowed her to do just that, as you sobbed into her arms she was wiping your tears. She didn't say much, she just held you...the truth is there's not much she could say...at least not to you anyways. But she promised the next time she and Drew would come into contact it would not end well, and she was adamant that it would be the last time she would willingly be in the same room as him. Even though you met Madelyn through drew, you and her hit it off so quickly, it's like you found your platonic soulmate as well as your romantic one...or so you had thought.

~~~~~~~

Madelyn was passed out on the opposite side of the couch when you decided to get up and get some water, your appetite was certainly not present but you figured you should hydrate yourself, your tears had drained your body from water. You glance over to the kitchen as you make your way there. The time reads 8am on the digital clock within the microwave.

As you drag your feet around the kitchen, collecting a glass to fill with water, your ears prick up to the sound of a knock at your door. Confused, you slowly redirect your journey and turn to the front door. You peak through the peephole, to find the boy you've been in hysterics over for the past, well...however many hours.

He knocks again, this time a little louder.

Your mind starts racing, your heart begins to pound and you get that ever so familiar feeling of anxiety that rushes over you.

You shake your head in distress and you battle with your thoughts on what to do next...

"y/n...please, open the door... I know you're not asleep"

He's right, he knows you well enough to know your mind wouldn't allow you to sleep for more than a couple hours at a time when you're feeling upset.

You glance over to the couch where Madelyn still lays, her breaths slow and fall steadily.

You step a little closer to the door frame and lean your weight onto one side. "um, Drew...I-I really don't feel like speaking right now"

"please y/n, just open the door, let me explain myself... I- i've been shit I know and ...i'm sorry, can you just hear me out?" Drew utters through slight cracks in his voice.

Tears brim in your eyes as you listen through the door to the words that trail out of Drews mouth...you tilt your head back and gasp for air as you try and hold back your wave of emotions. You want to see him, you want to talk, but you feel like you're almost stuck, unable to think straight, you're not ready for the emotional baggage that a conversation like this would bring right now. You figure there's no real explanation on why Drew has treated you the way he has for the past couple of months, and no excuse for acting the way he had in the photos you'd seen, it all hurt you, and it was valid. 

Your brain is scattered trying to figure out the right way to go about all of this...but almost before your mind could tell you no, your hand reaches for the hinges to unlock the front door.

your eyes lock together, and you can see Drews been crying, they're bloodshot and his eyebags slightly swollen. You look down at your feet as you quietly step outside the front door and into the apartment block hallway. "i've got to come out here, Madelyn's asleep..." you whisper slightly. Drew nods sheepishly.

as you close the door and shuffle your feet in front of Drew, you look up to him and fold your arms. "so?...you wanted to talk to me what do you want you want to say?" you question

"I just wanted to say i'm sorry, that I never meant to hurt you, you were right, I have been a dick, i've been scared and stressed and i've made some stupid decision I-"

"did you sleep with her?" you interrupt, you couldn’t truly hear drew out until you got off what was on your mind, you just needed to know first.

"huh?" He questions, his eyebrows burrowing slightly 

"Did you sleep with her?" you utter through a passive tone

" I-what do you mean ?"

"Ive seen the fucking photos Joseph! did you. sleep. with her?" you exclaim, hands gesturing to emphasise your emotions.

"What? What photos y/n? I- I don't know what youre talking about?"

your heart skips a beat

The truth is, Drew hadn't looked on twitter, Drew hadn't seen the photos of you, or him, or her. He always kept his phone on do not disturb between the night and early morning. And when the realisation hits...you can't help but snap.

A small chuckle slips through your lips. "are you fucking kidding me drew?"` you spit " you really was going to come here, apologies and not be truthful about what happened last night, do you think im fucking stupid? look at your fucking phone!?" 

But before Drew can get out his phone to check what youre talking about, you get out your own, shoving the image of him and another girl into his face. "this?" you state through gritted teeth.

Drews expression changes, his brows drop. 

"anything to say? maybe the reason youve been such a dick is because youre fucking your co star huh?" 

but before you could ask him once more, you notice his attention isn’t on you, but is drawn towards the floor

As you look down towards your bare legs, you notice drops of blood beginning to fall from in between, first slowly…then all at once.

cramping begins in your lower abdomen, however, it doesn't feel familiar, it feels uneasy…you begin to panic, facing drew with your hand now clamped over your mouth… 

“what the fuck y/n, we- we have to get you to a hospital…”

a/n: pt3??????

@winterrrnight @loves0phelia @f4ll-for-you @leyla-1905 @dilvcv @abarleyexistentbeing @tringeorge @emmsyysstuff @missamericanablog @deadxrx @clearpoetryobservation-blog @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @emotionsmgcbabe @aliciacat20

[probably-writing-x]

Blushing Boy

Drew Starkey x Reader

Summary: There were few things that made Drew Starkey lose his confidence, in fact, perhaps only one could truly ever do it; you. He didn’t know how, or why, but you just seemed to have that goddamn effect on him.

Warnings: Nothing besties, just fluffy as heck

Author’s Note: Thank you so so much for the love on my other post, I just had to post this one too !! Please please send in any requests you have my angels <3

Not my gif

You were just about nearing the end of press for Outer Banks Season 3, and all bases had been covered - you’d done interviews to see how well you knew your cast mates, ones looking at scenes from the show, and, of course, the puppy interview. Today was your last day, though all of you were split up in different places, on different projects, and so the last day of interviews would be done over zoom. This was your first experience working on the show, having come in to play Rafe’s love interest as the start of the season. Thankfully, the fans had fallen in love with you, and especially with your storyline with Drew. So much so, in fact, that they’d started to ship you two as actors as well, adoring every moment that they saw you spend together. The two of you were just friends, but you can’t say you didn’t find it amusing whenever theories were made. And, being honest, some of the edits did make you two look cute.

That was your side of things, anyway. Drew had fallen for you at the same rate that Rafe had fallen for your character. He wanted to see you every morning you started work, waiting to catch sight of you on set. He wanted to film all of his scenes with you, watching in awe whenever you acted. He was mesmerised whenever he saw you at events, amazed by you from the red carpets to the earliest of mornings. Drew felt like a schoolboy around you, stumbling over his words, blushing at prolonged eye contact, ears pricking up at the sound of your name. And it only got worse the more he saw of you.

“Okay, thank you guys all for joining me today,” The interviewer begins, smiling widely into the screen, “We’ve got Madelyn, Chase, Madison, Rudy, Jonathon, Carlacia, Drew and (Y/N), the cast of season three of Outer Banks, now streaming on Netflix. How are you guys doing?”

“I’m good,” Madelyn smiles.

“I’m tired, I flew back from Paris today and I’m so jetlagged,” Madison laughs.

“Okay, we’ll start off with a question for Chase, how has it been with the new additions to the cast this season - with Carlacia and (Y/N). How does that fit in with the dynamic of you guys working together?”

Chase leans closer to his microphone and speaks, “You know I think we got really lucky again to work with another great group of people, we all get on so well and these two just fit in perfectly with that, and it makes it so easy to go to work when you’re with such a good bunch.”

“Amazing, and (Y/N), what was your experience like being on set?”

You shift in your seat, glancing at all of the faces on screen, “Like Chase said, it was just ideal getting to work with everyone, it’s like being on one long holiday all working together, you’re out in the sun everyday, you’re on the water, you’re doing stunts, it was just such a great experience. And I was so lucky to get to share the screen with Drew, he makes it so easy to come into work everyday and, I mean, it’s not exactly hard to pretend to fall in love with him.”

You glance at him on the screen and the way his eyes seem so transfixed as you speak, like he holds onto every syllable one at a time. He’s wearing a purple t-shirt that brings out his eyes and his hair is messy in that sort of perfect way it always was.

“And Drew, what was it like to be working with (Y/N) so closely?”

“Yeah, I mean,” He coughs over his words, “It was great, (Y/N) is just perfect to work with, I couldn’t have asked for anyone better. She’s so talented, and kind and supportive as an actress and she just made me want to get up every day and come into work.”

You’re sure your cheeks heat with the vulnerability of what he has said. His are bright red too, and you’re relieved for a moment to share the same feeling even across the screen.

A few more questions are asked, Rudy explains about how many injuries he managed to pick up on set and Jonathon tells an embarrassing story about you and Madelyn from the wrap party. And then attention falls back to you and Drew.

“So, whilst I’ve got you guys here, I have to ask Drew and (Y/N) about the rumours that have been going around about you two, can you tell me anything the fans will want to hear?”

You laugh, slightly allowing yourself a bit more time before you figure out what to say, “You know, these things are inevitable when you play a couple on a show. But I think we take it as a compliment if anything, at least it was convincing enough for people to believe us, you know? Right Drew?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Drew chuckles dryly, “I’m just glad they know that we don’t hate each other.”

“Are you blushing Starkey?!” Rudy exclaims, coming closer to the screen.

Drew laughs and looks away, biting the tip of his tongue between his teeth, “Shut it Pankow.”

Everyone laughs but it’s as if you can feel all eyes on the two of you, and in that moment, all you want it for him to be there with you to share the attention. For him to be close enough that your hand could brush his, your eyes could focus solely on Drew’s, your laugh in rhythm with his. And, in that moment, perhaps for the first time, you realise that maybe those edits had realised something before you had.

“Okay, well it’s been great speaking to you guys, thank you so much for joining me,” The interviewer finishes up, closing off before telling you that you’re all done and you can log off from the call.

You shut your laptop and pull out your phone to see notifications already bursting through. They’re all from the groupchat you had with the other girls.

Oh my god did you see his face?

Are you kidding me rn??? That boy is in love with you

I’ll never forgive you if you don’t date Starkey fr

You laugh, fingers hovering over the buttons as you try to figure out a response. You wanted to tell them that they were being stupid, that there was no reason for them to think like that. But you can’t bring yourself to lie to them.

You swipe away from that chat, scrolling the short way down to where Drew’s chat with you was. The last thing he’d sent you was a fan made video of the two of you, a video from set where he had you on his shoulders in the pool and both of you fell under.

When you go to text him, he’s already typing.

And this time, you’re the one that’s blushing.

[rafescurtainbangz]

gif credit me ♥️

[heavenblvd]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒.

pairings — fem!reader and rafe cameron.

summary — after rafe takes your life, he tries to move on, and simply pretends he’s the one who didn’t do so. eventually, hauntings and truths will lay themselves out to remind rafe just how sickening he is.

warning tags — adult language. details of gruesome m*rder & m*rder itself. mentions of DV relationship, (brief) child ab*se & awful parents. talks of religion and god. reader’s pov from heaven (?? just stick w the program). rafe actually going more insane than usual. overall dark content.

author’s note — this is based on and inspired by ethel cain’s song ‘strangers’ and while this song has multiple interpretations to go by, i’m taking mine by the main and common one (just without the c*nnibalism!). this also gets super dark and depressing so if you cannot bear any of it, please click off! this also isn’t revised at all so my apologies for grammar mistakes.

likes, shares & reblogs are very much appreciated ⋆୨୧ ₊ﾟ

you had tears in your eyes, body shaking to point you thought you’d convulse. you tried to be obedient by keeping in rafe’s secret of what he had done on that tarmac. he beat you to make sure you kept your mouth shut for good.

he said, “i’ll kill you if you say one word,” and it took enough fear to believe him, but you didn’t think that day would come.

murder is an evil thing, and everyone can attest to it. rafe murdered sheriff peterkin as if she was nothing, as if she was a problem in the way. bad enough, he let john b. routledge — one of your best friends — take the fall for it.

you continued to keep your mouth shut, but after rafe tried to invade the police, ward killing himself, you didn’t see a reason to keep quiet. ward was the only reason why rafe could stay out of prison, and now that he wasn’t around, you could speak.

your father preached every sunday to live by righteousness and good, to never let evil win.

rafe was that evil. he was the devil himself.

the devil that you danced with, let make love to you, kiss you, but also beat you until stars twinkled in your vision, and your breath kept getting caught in your throat.

your mother would be horrified to know that, your father too. but it was their fault in a way that you accepted this cruelty as love; your father, especially to blame.

if love is not meant to be hit at you, does it even exist? your father showed you that when he’d slap or punch you for falling out of line, but go to church the next day, and preach about being a good servant to god.

you wanted all evil out of your life. it was suffocating, it was drowning you.

rafe had to be eliminated first.

“you killed peterkin, and i’m tired of knowing it,” you said, picking up your car keys. “we are done, and i won’t even show up to your trial when you go down for it.”

rafe just stared at you appalled and puzzled, sitting on the edge of his bed. you were close to being far out enough to your car until strong, violent hand seized you.

you screamed and kicked, not being new to this routine, only knowing that he was going to harm you.

you could never predict that his violence would lead him to murdering you.

“let me go, rafe!” you screamed, being pulled inside, your pleas and cries echoing in the empty home.

expecting to be physically berated, you were being led downwards.

to the wine cellar basement.

and for once in a while, you prayed to god, and hoped he would finally listen to you this time. that he would save his child, and perform a miracle.

but a miracle never came as rafe manhandled you, pinning you down on the cement ground of the basement.

“shut the fuck up! stop crying!” he yelled, a solid punch coming to your cheek, and you yelped, an easy gush of blood rushing out of your mouth. “you’re a fuckin’ backstabber. after everything i’ve done for you, gonna treat me like that?”

you cried, shaking your head. “r—rafe, please! i’ll be good, i’ll stop!”

“don’t trust you, little one. can’t let you ruin everything,” rafe said, reaching for something out of his back pocket.

the more you fought back, the more angry he got; the more you fueled the fire that rested in his hands and body.

before you could let out another plead, a sharp pain was made into your abdomen.

rafe stabbed you — and he wasn’t planning on stopping there.

god wasn’t there. you would show up to his gates in this condition, and ask him why he let it happen. if god is real, why did he bear witness instead of saving you?

rafe doesn’t recall killing you.

he remembers grabbing, and dragging you down into wine cellar basement, but couldn’t be able to tell anyone what happened after that. all he knows your blood was quite literally on his hand, knife shaking in his grip.

your babydoll white dress was now stained with violence and scarlet red blood.

the sight should’ve made him sick, but it didn’t. he just stared at you, breathing heavy, and it didn’t strike him until a while later that he had killed you.

rafe cameron had killed the love of his life.

he only panicked when it came to how to dispose your body, take off any evidence that could trace back to him. he was more than willing to dump your body in the woods, let any gators eat at you for supper.

he tossed your body only hours later in the depths of the woods, and it didn’t take long until you were reported missing.

of course, he was questioned first. it was easy for him to play the concerned boyfriend, crying because he also hadn’t heard from you, saying he had been texting and calling you for hours.

your parents sobbed on the news and asking anyone to come forward with any information, that they’ll give up however much money for their child to come home.

rafe just stared numbly at the television screen, a cup of scotch in his hand.

your best friends, the pogues, sobbed for days, and even started a search party for you. rafe made sure to dig you levels down in those woods when the ground was wet enough to dig up, and cover you up.

sarah cameron had a feeling her brother had something to do with your ‘disappearance’ but it was only just a gut intuition, she couldn’t prove it. she always questioned why you got with her brother, always emphasizing how horrible and violent he was, but you would tell her, “you don’t know him like i do; you don’t know how much he loves me, and takes care of me.”

kiara knew how bad rafe was — for god sake, she momentarily went to the academy around the same time he was a senior. she knew he wasn’t destined to be a boyfriend, let alone even in a fucking relationship.

the boys of the group were beyond furious, the three wanting to round up and take ahold of rafe, beat some information out of him. but they knew you wouldn’t want that, and that rafe would easily get the police to arrest them.

however, months passed, and you slowly became a memory to not only the town, but to rafe himself. he went on with his days like nothing occurred, that he didn’t violently take the life of his girlfriend.

you weren’t on his mind anymore, and he didn’t have to worry about you anymore.

or so he thought.

karma and revenge go hand in hand together; they mingle and burst out, they make sure they arrive at the doorstep of the people who deserve it.

rafe always thought getting rid of you would avoid his downfall, but the murder of you was just the beginning of it all.

he slept peacefully like he had done for a while now, with him about to drown into a deep sleep. he rested with his hands laid atop of his stomach, comfortable and at solitude, a female whisper woke him up.

he peeked around, but saw no one. he assumed he was just sleep deprived and imagining things, his eyes closing again for sleep.

“do you feel sick yet?” the voice that sounded like yours came through, more clearer and visible. he shot up, and turned on his bedside lamp.

nothing. no one. not you.

why would he have to feel sick? you were gone, you were no longer a problem.

rafe shook it off, and was able to go back to sleep.

you were angry in the afterlife. you stared at rafe from heaven, trembling with rage and regret. a man you once loved, had acted as if you never existed. you adored him, and he disposed you like garbage.

you just wanted to be his, wanted him to tell you that you were his only; that he loved you as much as you did to him, that he would change and better himself for you.

that the violence would dissipate, and his rough hands would be nurtured with love and softness.

but no. that never came, and never would.

you were taunted by your murder, burning with the need to remind rafe of how sick he was.

your violent lover let you bleed before him, and without tending to your wounds or simply sitting with immediate regret, he soaked in his actions and dismissed it.

why couldn’t he be gentle? was him painting you blue and purple not enough? did he have to go as far as killing his lover to satisfy the disdain and vexation he held for you?

was that enough? was that enough to make you enough?

rafe’s nights slowly turned interrupted and sleepless. your voice was always there, and time to time, he thought he saw you standing in his bedroom, drenched in blood and with tears streaming down your face as you kept asking him, “do you feel sick yet?”

sick. not regretful. fucking sick.

sleep deprivation was catching up to him, making him more mean and angry than usual, more out of control.

the coke wasn’t even helping either, only making everything worse.

he was at barry’s trailer, snorting endless lines of the white powder, trying to shake off the sight of you from last night.

“country club, you good?” barry asked, and rafe didn’t respond. “you don’t seem well, bro.”

“just need this shit, okay?” rafe mumbled, separating another drop of cocaine. “just… just want to sleep, need it.”

barry didn’t want to push him with more questions, minding his own business as the blond haired boy snorted up excessive amounts of lines.

rafe ended falling asleep on his couch, barry mindlessly scrolling on his own phone as he laid down on his bed.

the cold air from the air conditioner ran around in the basement, making it more freezing and chilling than usual.

rafe could smell strawberry perfume, indicating you were around. he looked around, and saw nothing of you.

“where are you!” he screamed. “you can’t scare me, you bitch!”

“i’m not here to scare you,” you talked, rafe spinning around to find you perched in the corner of the basement. you careened closer, the dim light emphasizing on your mangled body.

rafe stared at your stomach, where immense stab wounds laid on it. he swallowed thickly, his breath shaking and jagged.

“do you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe looked up at you. he couldn’t move in this dream, he was paralyzed and a witness to your lacerated body.

nausea and despair washed over rafe, almost consuming him entirely.

you were finally face to face with him, your hair disheveled and bunched, face stained with tears and runny makeup, all for him to look at.

rafe could feel your physical touch, your soft hand grabbing his, and made his palm touch your abdomen. he almost fucking threw up.

you could see it, you could see he was wanting to vomit everywhere. “am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe shivered, forcing his hand to put more pressure on your stomach, blood rushing out onto it. “am i making you feel sick?”

rafe screamed and lurched up, his eyes opening and alarming barry. “woah, what the fuck, rafe!” barry shouted, and rafe breathed rapidly, his heart thumping against his chest, a need to vomit.

rafe brought his face into his hands, trying to shake everything out of his hand.

your face, your touch, your blood — he felt it all. he was being reminded of you, when he didn’t want to.

barry kept asking him what was wrong, why he was crying, if he was okay, but all rafe could focus on was your voice asking, “am i making you feel sick?”

he was no longer immune to his destruction. he was becoming infected by it. you were a disease that he couldn’t treat, a parasite that ate at his brain.

he would never get rid of you — and you would make sure that he never did.

it was month seven without you, and you became a faded name to the outer banks. the only people who lived on to tell your name was your parents, and your best friends. the pogues carved your name into the chateau’s tree, a ceremonial bench placed at the high school.

your body or you weren’t ever discovered, but the police had listed you as deceased. you weren’t a runaway, you were eighteen, and had nothing to runaway for. when you couldn’t be traced anywhere on the grid, the police pronounced you dead, and that was that.

pictures of you and any sort of evidence remained in a cardboard box somewhere in the police station. you were left to rot in every way.

you were tired of being forgotten, but more exhausted that nobody knew that your boyfriend did this, and you probably weren’t going to be the first girl he killed.

rafe cameron needed to know what he did, and you wanted to do everything you could to make him drag himself to the police station, sit down, and say, “i killed her — and i enjoyed every fucking second of it.”

madness was becoming rafe. he was already an insane, depraved fuck before, but the lack of sleep and memories of the murder were catching up to him for good.

dark circles were around his eyes, hair greasy and messy, his body tired. he felt like he was going to snap any second.

he kept drinking, smoking weed and doing coke back to back, surprised that his heart didn’t give out yet.

a random exhaustion toll pushed over him, laying him down on the floor of his bedroom, and his eyes threatened to snap shut.

he didn’t want to sleep, he was afraid to. he was afraid to see you, with your bloody dress and sad face, making him touch your wounds.

rafe didn’t win the fight of sleeping, and he knocked out cold on his bedroom floor.

he wasn’t in the basement, he was in his bedroom, and he could hear your feet padding away to the front of the house, to your car.

oh, he was reliving the night. and he couldn’t stop. he couldn’t get out of the memory — he was facing everything.

he saw you bloody by his doorframe, and you tilted your head. “why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice sounding as if he was trapped in a void.

you only frowned. “so you know.”

like a reflex, rafe hurriedly rushed over to you outside before you could get away, seizing you away, and taking you to the basement.

he pinned you down to the ground, and screamed at you to stop crying, upset and angry you were willing to betray him when he did everything for you.

you were sobbing, but it became echoes and his ears rang, everything around him becoming silent except his own heavy breathing. he grabbed the knife that sat in his pocket, and he could see your eyes widen with fear to the sight of the object.

“rafe!” you screamed in the first stab. he hit you sharp and right in the abdomen.

he held his knife there for a second, like time was freezing him, and he felt a hot breath at the side of his face.

it was you.

“am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe proceeded to stab you as you sobbed. you cried out his name, trying to fight away the knife, promising to be good and for him to stop.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

rafe couldn’t stop, he couldn’t control himself. he kept stabbing you as you screamed. he was a monster, with the inability to suppress his anger or violence.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

a part you thought you were making him feel sick because of how mutilated your body was; that the body he was once desired, was now filling him with disgust. you wondered if how butchered you looked, was making him uncomfortable and sick. he didn’t deserve your concern, but it happened anyway. was it making him sick?

rafe wanted to cry, but couldn’t. he was revisiting the person he was in this moment, and could see life vanish from your eyes, death taking you away.

he took one last stab, and held it there like the first one. you kneeled in front of him, looking over at your corpse for a moment before your eyes settled into his raging ones.

he held prolonged eye contact with you as you inched your face close to his, but kept a safe distance. you placed your hand on top of his murdering one, and with a blank face, lastly asking him, “am i making you feel sick?”

rafe broke eye contact with you to look at your deceased body, and realized and remembered this murder. your organs could be nearly seen, blood gushed and poured out everywhere, your body cold and still.

he dropped the knife, and eyed you. “i’m sorry.”

you shook your head, and sighed. “you will revisit this everyday as long as you live,” you said, sniffling. “all i wanted was to be yours, and be good enough, rafe. was i no good?”

he didn’t have an answer, and with that, you got up, staring over at your body. “i want you to know,” you chuckled softly to yourself, “i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did. i forgive you, especially since i’m happier where i’m at.”

“heaven?” rafe asked.

you nodded. “you won’t make it here, but i’ll still hope and wait that you do — because i love you too much to let god be angry with you too.”

“he’s an angry man?”

“he’s angry and unfair,” you responded. “like someone i know. i loved god, i loved you; two men who didn’t view me as much, who don’t deserve for me to believe in them.”

rafe went quiet, and enough time went by for you to disappear for good to let rafe cry, and scream. he cried and sobbed, dry heaving as he vomited everywhere to the sight of you.

he killed you, and as long as he kept it to himself, you would drive him mad and insane with the knowing of it.

rafe cameron confessed to your murder only hours later. he drove himself to the police station, and confessed to every detail, telling sheriff shope where your body was.

they found your maimed body in the exact location where rafe told them it was, your body already decomposing into near bones, eaten by critters and bugs.

the earth was consuming you.

he was hated forever, the town wanted him torched or given the death penalty. it would be a while until he got a trial.

your funeral could be proper with your body in a casket, given a rightful way to be down in the ground, protected and secured by a box stuffed with silk fabric.

you could see your mom cry, and you wish she wouldn’t. your father had to give the prayer at your funeral, your best friends sobbing, and hating themselves for not getting you away from rafe sooner.

however, your death was simply inevitable. if rafe didn’t kill you, your love for him would. he was everything to you.

even when he was murdering you — getting a vile satisfaction from it — you were worried about him, if you and your maimed body was making him feel more nauseous and sick than the actual murder was.

rafe would live with the knowing that you truly loved him, and he took your life every single day that he spent in a prison block cell.

and your ghost would continue to linger and haunt him, never letting him know peace and serenity as he never did to you.

[ipetite69]

BOTH. I CAN'T CHOOSE 😫😫

[tetragonia]

[indigoflorals]

droupout (18+)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

You come home from college to visit your boyfriend after months apart.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, spanking

꧁༺ ༻꧂

“You know, I’m convinced you should just drop out.”

Your boyfriends hands roamed the expanse of your bare chest and waist. He groaned into your mouth in between peppering light kissing along it.

“You know I can’t, Rafe.” You moaned as his fingers pinched your right nipple, toying with it. “As much as I love this, I have my career to think about.”

Rafe huffed, leaning back to peel his own shirt off in a fluid motion. “You know I’d take care of you. Make you my fucking wife. You’d never have to work again.”

You giggled at his remark as you ran your hands over his muscular arms. “It’s not about that. But you can make me your wife all you want.”

Bringing you into a soft kiss, he pulled you into his lap roughly to grind against him. You moaned against him, feeling him already straining in his sweats.

“Did you miss me?” You teased, running a finger down beside the outline of his dick.

He groaned quietly, pulling you into another rough kiss.

“Don’t tease. I’ve had a long fucking time to think about what I’ve wanted to do to you.” He practically growled in your ear, giving a sharp smack to your ass.

You whimpered, pressing farther forward into his chest at the stinging feeling on your ass. “You can have me, Rafe. Any way you want.”

A surprised gasp escaped your lips but was muffled by his kiss as he flipped you downward onto your back. You moaned into the feeling of his heavy body pressing into yours, pinning you to the soft mattress.

Only your panties stood between him and your sex now, and he wasn’t going to wait. “Need to fucking taste you.”

He slid down your body, placing kisses against your stomach and pelvis until he reached your panties. Face to face with them, he hooked a thumb into the hip of your underwear and dragged them down.

Your pussy was exposed to his face now, and he looked like a man starved. Without hesitation, your boyfriend dove into your cunt. He latched onto your clit, sucking and twisting his tongue around it as you mewled above for him. Your fingers knotted into his hair.

“Oh Rafe,” You bucked your hips into his happily reviving mouth, “So good, missed this so much,”

He moaned into your pussy and the vibrations rumbled throughout. With a cry you came against his lips, and liquid ran down his chin.

“You’re so sweet. Don’t think I can ever go that long without you again.” He wiped his chin simultaneous to pulling himself out of his boxers and sweats. “Are you ready, baby?”

You nodded furiously, pushing your hips toward his flushed and leaking tip. The feeling of him sliding in was incredible. Like a missing puzzle piece that had finally been placed.

“Fuck, pretty girl, I can’t last long. Missed your pussy.” Your boyfriend thrust his hips into you with vigor, and esch stroke filled you with pleasure.

You grasped at his, fingernails catching, sure to leave marks he wouldn’t take the time to explain to anyone.

You were his and everyone knew it. He just so happened to enjoy placing love bites along your neck.

You cried at the ecstasy of him brushing every place inside of you that you couldn’t reach on your own. It was fantastic. Clenching around him, you felt his hips stutter as his hot cum filled you in a rush, “Oh baby, fucking hell.”

You rubbed Rafe’s back and head, fluffing his hair as he planted kisses to your collarbone.

“Please don’t go back to college.” He squeezed you into a hug. “I can take care of you here. Protect you here.”

You giggled at his remark. “I have to, Rafe.”

“Be my wife, then.” He pleaded, kissing your neck again.

“Since when are you so mushy?” You laughed at the glare he shot your way. “Anyway, my answer is the same as it was the first two times. After I graduate.”

He huffed in defeat. “Fine.”