#pogue bunny!reader

[futuremrscameron]

meet pogue!bunny

content warnings: sexual harassment, misogyny, bullying, mentioned violence, mentioned child hunger, referenced child abuse

pogue!bunny's reputation is one of heavy debate. is she the sweetest girl in kildare or an oppurtunistic whore who's faker than her boobs? depends on who you ask. she’s got a very bubbly outgoing personality and is willing to go above and beyond for her friends and family. the object of desire and jealousy for many but especially kook girls

family's orginally from louisiana and despite being generations removed from the state you can hear it in her accent. this is because she was raised by her grandma who alternated between speaking louisiana creole and english. she never knew her parents, they died when she was still a baby so she didn't grieve them like her grandmère and the community did. she still visits and tends to their graves in the family plot on her days off

jj was her only friend for a while. they knew of each other and their respective reputations at school and around town but didn’t interact until they got detention for “causing trouble”. jj fought some guys that were harassing her and she stood up for him when a teacher came by and he was used as a scapegoat by said students

they sit in their school's science lab on opposite sides of the classroom. she breaks the silence first, “you shouldn’t have done that.”

jj flicks another paper football at their sleeping teacher before turning his attention to her. “that’s funny 'cause i was thinking the same thing.”

she crosses her arms. “i’m serious. i can handle it, okay? it’s not worth getting black eyes over.”

"we've got different definitions of handling it," he winces as he makes a sudden turn in his chair.

she frowns and stands up, "that's it. i'm taking you to the hospital."

he holds a hand out, "now hold on, princess; last time i checked, ditching detention is a big no-no, and i don't think you wanna get in any more trouble, especially for me."

she fixes him with an unimpressed stare, "i'll live." she carries both their bags in front of her and helps him stand up. she wraps an arm around his waist, and he throws his arm around her shoulder. they slowly make their way to the door, not wanting to wake the sleeping man.

show slowly shuts the door behind them and lets out a sigh of relief. he chuckles, "you're on a roll with the rule-breaking today, huh? means i'm rubbing off on you already; that's record timing," he smirks.

"is that supposed to be a sex joke?" she tries to look offended but can't fight an amused smile from stretching across her face

he looks pleasantly surprised. "oh she's got jokes."

she shrugs, "maybe."

"beauty and brains!" she doesn't stop her laugh that time.

not the greatest at school. was constantly on the verge of failing until jj set her up with pope as a tutor. quickly fell for pope through their sessions.

"hi pope!" she jogs over to his locker, where he's talking to jj.

he turns and smiles, completely ignoring jj in favor of her. "oh, hey. how did the test go?"

she grins, "i passed! it's amazing; if you told me three months ago that i would understand algebra, i would've called you crazy." she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "couldn't have done it without you."

"that's not true. i've tutored a lot of students, and they still fail sometimes, so trust me when i say it was all you."

"well, a student is only as good as their teacher."

"well-"

jj rolls his eyes at their blatant flirting and claps, popping them out of the bubble they've formed. "well, if you crazy kids are done flirting, we've got somewhere to be." he gestures at the door.

she frowns at his crass interruption, "jj!"

pope pushes his shoulder, "dude!" he turns to back to her, remorse all over his face. "i'm sorry about him."

she shrugs, "no worries. i'll catch you later, yeah?"

he smiles, "yeah."

neither of them move. jj groans and drags pope away by his backpack's handle.

later that day, she gives jj hell about his actions over the phone.

"please, you should be thanking me. you looked you would cream your panties if he called you a 'good girl'."

she can almost hear his shit-eating grin over the phone. she blushes, “jj! don’t be gross!”

was a cart girl at the country club for a while until she was scouted by some old kook to become a bottle girl at the island club. she took it cause it pays way better and she wanted to help her grandma out with the bills even though she told her not to worry about them but quickly changed her tune after bunny pulled out her rolls of cash

gets harassed by kook girls on the regular for "trying to steal their boyfriends." when jj was working at the country club, he would offer to fight them for her or ask kiara to fight them. she thought it would be back to regularly scheduled programming when jj got fired, but they stayed away. she eventually finds out that jj cornered the ring leader when she was leaving the club and held a gun to her head

pogue!bunny's friendship with jj is confusing to everyone that knows them. the pogues are split into two categories: "jj's got an unrequited crush" and "they're fucking", luke thinks they're dating but believes she's out of his league, and bunny’s grandma thinks he’s nothing but trouble (she thinks pope’s a better match). his protectiveness and their physical affection does not help dispel the rumors. they don't realize that they're so close because they understand each other and where survivors and

“i love pope, but he is not that funny.” kiara shakes her head

kiara, john b, and jj sit in john b’s backyard, passing around a joint as they watch pope miss the obvious flirting from the newest addition to their group.

john b nods in agreement, but jj sighs shakes his head. “y’all got no faith in our boy, he’s learned from the best.”

john b mockingly frowns. “now that worries me?”

jj jokingly nudges him but kiara’s face remains stoic and passes the joint back to john b.

“i don’t want him getting hurt.”

he takes a long hit, ignoring john b’s complaints before replying to kiara. “he’ll be fine. she’s as harmless as a bunny.”

kiara scoffs, “that’s not what i’ve heard.”

he chuckles, but there’s no humor in his tone. "what's that supposed to mean?"

john b looks weary, sensing an incoming argument. “nothing.”

she shrugs, “i’ve just heard some things.”

jj scoffs, "she's heard some things. you hear that, john b, she's heard some things!"

"jj." john b gives him a warning look, but jj drunkenly waves him off.

“heard some things from who? huh? those kook bitches you ditched us for?"

john b nudges his shoulder, “come on, man.”

jj pushes his hand away and stands up, "no i wanna know."

kiara rises from her seat, now standing face to face with him. john b sinks back in his lawn chair, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

"she's got a reputation, jj. so forgive me for insulting your crush, but i don't want to see our friend get hurt."

jj steps closer, pushing her back with his chest, “that girl’s more pogue than you’ll ever fuckin’ be, so watch your fuckin’ mouth."

he snatches the joint out of john b's hand and points at kiara, "don't ruin this for them." he stomps back to the chateau, slamming the door shut behind him, drowning out john b's shouts for him to come back.

starts hanging out with the pogues more after befriending pope. she’s very happy cause she hasn’t had many friends since she hit puberty

as her self-esteem grows, it shows in her fashion, trading sweaters, long skirts, and blouses for jeans, tube and halter tops, shorts and skirts, and pastel pinks and whites for hot pinks, dark blues, and deep brown

takes pope to meet her grandma after the events of season 1. she's always known how limited the time people have together is but the apparent deaths of john b and sarah made her get over her fear of rejection and pursue pope with reckless abandon because time is too short

has the second thickest accent in the group. it’s slightly noticeable on a daily basis but becomes very obvious when she’s excited or upset. the pogues like to joke that listening to her and jj argue is like watching a show set in the deep south

pogue!bunny constantly finds herself getting dragged into the pogues' mess. topper and rafe finding out when she works so they can interrogate her about pope and jj's whereabouts after they sink topper's boat, limbrey showing up at her house to deliver a message to pope, and shoupe asking if she's seen jj after the courthouse riot. she's more annoyed than anything (the limbrey thing really pissed her off though cause that's her grandmère's home)

bobby and cara love her and are so thankful she loves pope. they love their son and know he's a catch, but they were still shocked when he brought her to meet them. they were so sure she was gonna be a no-nonsense academic weapon, not his complete opposite. they agree she's good for him, though. she brings him out of his shell like the pogues do but safer

works some kook parties to make some extra money when her grandmother gets sick. sometimes runs reconnaissance for the pogues while at said parties to the best of her ability and uses her taser, gifted by jj, if anyone gets too touchy

thought all kooks were shit before meeting sarah. they bond over their inaccurate reputations and their newfound friendship with the pogues. both girls don't have many real girl friends (read: any) so they latch onto each other rather fast

rocky relationship with kiara at first until they realize they have more in common than they thought. kiara apologizes for being a bitch to her and believing the rumors about her and bunny apologizes for talking shit about her with sarah

pogue!bunny has as many admirers as she does haters, kooks and pogues. some are creppy and gross, but most are harmless. she gets a lot of gifts (money, fruit baskets, stuffed animals) but usually rejects or returns them. on the rare occasion she keeps them she shares the goods with jj if he's going through a food drought

"here." she places a basket on her bed next to jj.

he sits up, already intrigued at the newest addition to a long list of what he's titled "rabbit food". she hates the name.

"what's this?"

she sits at her vanity and shrugs. she begins to remove her makeup, "some guy gave it to me."

he looks up from the basket, "uh huh. and did this guy have a name?"

"ran off before i could ask."

he chuckles, "smart boy. knowing when you've got no chance with a girl is a skill a lotta guys don't have."

she stops removing her lashes and turns to him. "do you?"

he thinks about it for a second before shrugging. "i'm different bunny, i've always got a chance."

she rolls her eyes and turns her back to him, "forgot who i was talkin' to."

"don't hate the player." he continues rifling through the basket, only taking things he likes. he frowns as he picks up the sixth item and places it in his backpack. "this guy's a dumbass, you hate all this stuff."

"huh." she tries to keep a passive expression but he sees right through it.

he throw his bag on her bed, "goddamit. you're somthin' else you know that?"

she can feel his glare without looking up. she sighs and turns around "what?"

"don't 'what' me. you know "what". how many times i gotta tell you i don't need your fuckin' charity!"

she stands up, "it's not charity you jackass it's called caring!"

he paces back and forth, "who told you? huh? was it pope?"

"luke gone, spending most of your time at the chateau. doesn't take a genius to put two and two together." she sits down on her bed and pats the space next to her. he sits down begrudingly.

"i'm sorry i tricked you but i don't reget it."

"you're shit at apologies."

"i'm an only child. what'd you expect?"

he shakes his head and looks around her room, "you're an idiot."

she quirks an eybrow at him. "takes one to know one."

he smiles.

has two phones, one for friends and family and one for the creeps she meets encounters at work. she knows they're relentless so she gives them the number to her second phone so when they test it by calling her right there, which they tend to do, it rings.

loves watching pope use his brain. there's just something so attractive about watching him research, evaluate, problem solve and the way his face lights up when he cracks the case. bonus points if she helps him solve a problem.

she's lying on her stomach on her boyfriend's bed, trying to complete her grandmère's newest word search. pope's over at his desk working on the pogues' most recent adventure.

pope groans, throwing his head back in annoyance. "this makes no damn sense."

she looks up from her word search, "what is it?"

he sits on the edge of his bed next to her and hands her the paper he's been analyzing for the past hour. she studies it. "the princess andromeda?"

"right? i mean it's supoosed to be somewhere on the island but it doesn't exist. maybe i got it wrong or-"

"no it's real."

he squints, "what do you mean?"

"it's a real place. the girls told me about it, the club inside the club. tried to get me to cover a shift for stephanie but i said 'no way'. i can't even imagine what kind of shit goes on down th-"

she's cut off by a deep kiss. he pulls away to soon for her liking but the pure adoration in his eyes makes up for it. "you're amazing."

she feels her face heat up, "i don't know 'bout that but if it gets me more kisses, sure." she smiles, closes her eyes, and leans in for another but gets nothing. she opens one eye and frowns at the sight before her. he's already got his backpack on and is halfway out the door. "i gotta go! love you!"

she pouts. "love you too."

does target practice with jj on her days off and finds it very theraputic. the rush and the benefits convinces her to finally learn how to use her grandmère's shotgun

can't stop thinking about how much better her life has gotten since meeting the pogues

[urmum-lovesme]

Bunny (P13)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: Sorry for the cliff hanger guys- but here's the next bit and besides its not like I would leave it on a cliff hanger again- or would I..... ? heh

warnings: angst angst angst, violent behaviour, emotional distress, mentions of past trauma, alcohol, sad!rafe and sad!bunny, luke (he deserves a warning)

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11) (P12) (P13)

The house was quiet and peaceful in a way that felt rare lately. Steam still curled faintly from the cracked bathroom door as Y/N padded barefoot through the hallway, the cotton hem of her oversized t-shirt brushing the tops of her thighs. It clung slightly to the damp warmth of her skin, fresh from the shower, the scent of vanilla soap still lingering on her. The shirt, one of her oldest and most worn-in, read 'There’s no place like the OBX!' in faded, peeling letters. The image of a cartoon sunset beneath the text was barely visible now, rubbed off from years of wear, but it was still her comfort shirt.

The evening had been calm. A rare exhale. She knew it was the right choice, not going to the party, instead choosing to stay at home. No JJ, no Rafe, no tension. Just her alone in the stillness of the house. She yawned softly as she made her way into the kitchen, the tiles cool under her feet. Her hand reached for the cabinet, grabbing a glass, then filled it halfway from the tap, the sound of water the only thing cutting through the silence.

Buzz. Buzz.

Her phone, face-down on the counter buzzed again. She frowned a little, setting the glass down with a small clink and reaching for it. When she turned it over, the lock screen was full, message after message.

Rafe

Rafe : Y/N m s sorry

Rafe : It was a mistake I didn mean iit

Rafe : Im sosorry forgive me

Rafe : Please it was ana ccident

Rafe : drunk an angry it just slipedout

She just stood there, blinking, bare feet rooted to the floor. What? Her thumb hovered over the screen as she scrolled back through the weird messages littering her screen, heart creeping higher into her throat. He hadn’t replied to her at all yesterday left her on read after she asked him the question which had been hanging over both of them for a while now. He'd ignored every message she sent and now this? What the hell was he talking about, it made no sense. Her brows knit as she stared at the screen, glass forgotten on the counter as she held the phone in two hands her thumbs typing out; What are you talk-

BANG

The sound of the front door slamming open ricocheted through the house like a shotgun blast. The walls trembled and the floor vibrated slightly beneath her bare feet. Her whole body jolted—glass on the counter rattling dangerously. Her blood ran cold. She'd not seen her dad in a few days and the possibility of his presence was in her mind, whispered in fear, a lifetime of instinct kicking in. But before panic could really settle, the door slammed shut again, the echo bouncing off every wall like a threat. She turned sharply, heart hammering in her chest and then there he was-

JJ?

Standing in the doorway, chest heaving, shoulders tense and strung tight like he could burst. His face was a mess- nose bloodied, dried and smeared to one side, his lip split, a red flush blooming across his cheek. His blond hair was sticking up in every direction under his crooked cap, disheveled like he’d just been through a war. His clothes hung raggedly on his body almost as though his t-shirt had been stretched out, and he was breathing heavy like he ran the whole way here. His eyes locked onto hers furious, hurt.

Betrayed

He stood there, breath ragged in his chest, eyes locked on her like he didn’t recognise the girl in front of him. Y/N stared back at him, frozen for a moment in the quiet hum of the kitchen. Her phone, still glowing with Rafe’s frantic texts, slipped from her fingers and landed back onto the counter with a soft thud. The sound felt loud in the silence. This was JJ, her kid brother who used to cry when he scraped his knees and she'd bandage them up pressing soft kisses over the bandaids. The boy she taught how to sneak out of the house quietly, her best friend since they were in diapers. Now he looked like someone she didn’t know- bloodied, breathless, and storm-eyed. She took a step around the kitchen island, slow and cautious, like she was approaching a wounded animal. She asked gently, her voice threading with worry, hand outstretched, ready to go to him,

“Are you okay- ”

“-were you pregnant?”

But JJ’s voice sliced through the air before she could take another step and she stopped dead in her tracks. Silence crashed between them. Her hand, still halfway out, dropped to her side like a weight and her stomach churned at the words passing his lips.

“What?”

Her voice was almost inaudible. Caught between panic and confusion, her breath hitched. JJ’s face twisted, all disbelief and frustration, and he took a harsh step forward, his voice louder now.

"Did you fucking get pregnant?"

Y/N blinked, wide-eyed, her lips parting like the words might come—but nothing did. Her body language screamed shock, but inside she was cracking open. Splitting down the middle. Her heart was racing now, mouth suddenly dry. “N-no,” she stammered, voice too quick and certainly too fragile.

“What-? No!”

But JJ wasn’t buying it. He whipped his cap off his head as he raked a hand through his hair, exhaling hard as he turned in a quick, agitated circle, the movement jerky with disbelief. His fingers clenched in his hair before he let them drop and he barked out—

“Don’t LIE to me!”

The words exploded out of JJ like a gunshot, and with it, his hand came down hard crack against the edge of the kitchen table. The slap of skin on wood echoed through the house like a warning sound. Y/N jumped, her breath catching violently in her chest. Her whole body flinched, jerking backward instinctively. Eyes wide, pupils blown and her shoulders curled in slightly, like she'd just taken a hit without being touched. Her heart was pounding so loud in her ears it almost drowned everything else out. She felt cold suddenly, like the warmth of her post-shower calm had been ripped from her body in an instant. The oversized shirt clung to her damp skin, sticking uncomfortably as her breathing turned sharp and uneven “Pregnant?” she echoed, voice airy and brittle. It sounded wrong in the space between them. Like the word didn’t belong to her. Like she was trying to believe she didn’t understand- trying to sell a lie even she couldn’t swallow.

“Who told you this?”

And JJ- he looked like he could rip the whole room apart with his bare hands. She already knew the answer he was going to give her. But she needed to hear it. Needed to pray and cling onto the hope for some other name, any name not—

“Rafe Cameron”

JJ said, voice full of venom. His jaw was clenched so tight it trembled, eyes burning into hers. And then she froze, like a statue carved from ice. Her chest stilled and her hands hung at her sides. There wasn’t a flicker of movement. Rafe? She couldn’t even blink, couldn’t breathe at the sound his name.

He promised

Her fingers curled slightly in toward her palms and she felt like someone had just reached into her chest and squeezed.JJ saw it happen- the way her entire body stiffened, how her lips parted but no sound came. The way her eyes went glassy for just a second.He saw it all and it broke something within him. His voice cracked, a bitter sound ripping from his throat, full of raw betrayal and heartbreak as he whispered,

“Oh my fucking god-”

“-no! No I didn’t get pregnant”

Y/N gasped out, voice cracking like thin glass. She shook her head rapidly, hands lifting uselessly in the air like she could physically push the truth away. But her voice was too high, too shaky. Her eyes were darting everywhere but his, and JJ saw right through her.

“I didn’t—JJ. I-"

“-why are you LYING to me!”

He shouted cutting her off, his voice thundering off the walls as his hands flew into the air in exasperation, then slammed back down at his sides. His eyes were wild, glassy with a cocktail of rage and betrayal.

“Why the are you lying to me?!”

“Jay, please just—”

She rushed, taking a few tentative steps toward him, palms out like she could soothe him with touch alone. Her voice wavered, desperate and pleading. But JJ backed up- away from her. “You didn’t even tell me,” he said bitterly, as if the words physically hurt to say. He let out a strangled scoff, pacing now, stumbling back a step.

“And I’m your brother. I’m your fucking brother Y/N.”

Her eyes welled. Her lips trembled because it was happening. Exactly what she’d feared- her worst nightmare made real in their own kitchen, beneath the harsh light, peeling tiles and abandoned glass of water. “Please,” she whispered again, voice breaking down completely now.

“JJ please—”

But he was already unraveling- crashing out. He paced along the kitchen, dragging a hand down his face, his cap was long abandoned on the kitchen island as he dug his fingers into his hair and tugging like he needed to physically hold himself together. His mouth was hidden behind his hand now, muffling a harsh, trembling breath. He was doing everything he could not to lose it. But then, his hand lashed out and swept everything off the corner of the kitchen island. Bills, letters, receipts, all of it went crashing to the floor in a loud flurry of paper and crumpled envelopes.

“You went to Rafe?”

He yelled, voice splintered and feral as he rounded on her again, pointing now— accusingly. His entire face contorted with disbelief, “You went to Rafe Cameron for help?! The same piece of shit who’s tormented us for years- who’s ruined our lives- what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

His finger stabbed the air in her direction, jaw clenched so tight his teeth could’ve cracked. His breathing was loud, heavy. He looked like he was barely staying inside his own skin and Y/N snapped suddenly,

“Don’t raise your voice at me”

She bit out, her voice cutting sharp and fast, almost instinctive. Her chest was heaving now, flushed with fury and panic. Her hands were curled into fists at her sides as her eyes locked with his, finally locked with his. “You have no fucking idea what I’ve been going through JJ. None of it,” she seethed, her voice shaking just beneath the surface, laced with pain that was months in the making.

“You don’t know how hard it’s been trying to make a decision I never asked for in the first place!”

And just like that, the kitchen went still. The broken silence crackled in the air between them like electricity after a lightning strike- both of them breathing hard, standing in the wreckage of papers, secrets, and everything they haven't said to each other in the past months. JJ’s voice cracked on the question,

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It wasn’t loud anymore. It wasn’t angry. It just… broke. Like something inside him had split clean down the middle. His arms, once tensed at his sides, dropped uselessly as his shoulders sagged. Like all the fight had drained out of him in one breath. Y/N stood stiff on the other the island opposite him, the space between them feeling wider than the whole room. Her breath hitched as her eyes dropped to the floor, shoulders curling inward like she was bracing for impact.

“JJ, I don’t know, I just—”

“Do you not trust me?”

He asked, suddenly, voice low but guarded. She looked up fast, her eyes wide, lashes still wet. Her lips parted like she was about to speak but forgot how. Like she’d been caught somewhere between guilt and fear. She said, voice tight, chest rising with a shaky inhale,

“That’s not what this is about.”

“Yes. Yes, it is what this is about—”

“I DO trust you!”

She burst out, loud and raw, like she couldn’t hold it in anymore. Her hands shot out as if reaching for something she couldn’t quite grasp. She was breathing fast now, visibly trembling, like the admission had cost her something. JJ stepped forward a half-step, hands curling into frustrated fists at his sides. His jaw clenched hard, eyes narrowed, flickering with that familiar mix of hurt and fury.

“Well you don’t act like it”

He said, bitter, almost defeated. He threw his hands up like he was done trying to understand. “Jesus…” he breathed, taking two slow steps back. Y/N rubbed her face roughly, wiping away a tear with the heel of her palm, her fingers shaky. Her mouth opened- then shut again, her brows drawing together in a helpless knot. JJ let out a breath so heavy it sounded like it hurt. Then his hand dragged through his hair, gripping the back of his neck like he needed to ground himself. He looked her dead in the eye,

“Was it his?”

The question struck her like a slap. She went completely still. “...What?” she whispered, barely audible. The word trembled in her throat, her head jerking slightly like she couldn’t believe he’d actually said it. JJ’s eyes burned, his mouth twisted into something between a grimace and a sneer.

“Was it his, Y/N? Was it Rafe’s?”

Her mouth opened again, but no sound came out. Her legs carried her one step back, like the sheer weight of the question shoved her there. Her arms folded across her chest without her realising it, protective. Defensive.

“How can you even ask me that—”

“What else do you want me to think, huh?” JJ’s voice climbed again, every word sharper than the last, “You won’t fucking tell me anything! You kept this whole thing a secret from me like I’m just some... some nobody—”

“JJ—”

“Was it his?”

He snapped again, louder, like saying it might finally make the pain in his chest make sense. His chest rose and fell, his breathing heavy and erratic. He looked like he was burning up from the inside.

“Was it his, and that’s why you ran to him, why you told him before you told me?”

“Stop-stop it— how dare you even think that—”

“Well you’re sure as hell not giving me a lot of reasons not to!”

The shout ripped from him like a gut punch. He slammed the heel of his palm down on the counter once more as the last word left his mouth, she flinched hard at the sound, instinctively taking a step back like it could steady her pulse.

BANG

The front door slammed against the wall with a hard thud, rattling the frame in its hinges as Luke stumbled inside, the scent of cheap bourbon clinging to him like a second skin. Both their heads whipped toward the entrance to the house, eyes wide. The air in the kitchen turned thick with silence, frozen with tension as JJ's chest heaved and Y/N didn’t move. He blinked blearily at the two of them from the hallway, swaying just slightly, his jaw working unevenly as he tried to focus.

“What’s all this fuckin’ yelling?”

His voice was slurred, low and accusatory, slicing through the thick silence like a rusted blade. Y/N’s body stiffened immediately. She stood there, frozen for half a second, then straightened up like someone had yanked her upright by a string. “Nothing,” she said quickly, her jaw clenched so tight it ached. JJ didn’t say a word. His arms were rigid at his sides, chest still heaving, that same fury boiling behind his eyes.

“Nothing is going on”

Y/N repeated, sharper this time. She wasn’t even fully looking at Luke anymore- her gaze was fixed on JJ, like her words were meant for him just as much, like she was pleading with him. Her voice dropped slightly, nearly trembling:

“Right, JJ? Nothing’s happening here.”

There was a long pause. JJ looked at her- really looked at her- and her eyes silently begged, he knew exactly what she was saying in her mind. Don’t say it- don’t let him find out. JJ’s nostrils flared, his whole body rigid, but his face hardened into stone. Then, slowly, almost in disbelief, he shook his head. His hand dragged over his mouth once more as he took a step back.

He didn’t say a single word.

He just turned, snatching his cap of the kitchen counter and walked toward the door and left- slamming it shut behind him with a bang that made the windows shudder in their frames. Y/N flinched. Her chest caved as she dropped down into one of the wooden kitchen chairs like all the strength had just drained out of her. Her elbows hit the edge of the table, head falling into her hands, shoulders hunched. Behind her, Luke mumbled something unintelligible and stumbled down the hallway. The second he was gone, the dam broke, silent tears dripped through her fingers, landing in dark, wet splotches on the old wooden table beneath her.

bzzz bzzz bzzz

Her phone vibrated on the counter, loud in the quiet house. She turned around slowly, reaching for it her hand trembling as the screen lit up.

Rafe

She stared at it, heartbeat thudding in her throat. Her chest rose and fell unevenly. Her thumb hovered over the screen for a long moment and then a soft, broken sound left her lips. She placed the phone face down on the table, letting it buzz until the sound faded.

Until the silence was all that was left in the four walls of the house.

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

The soft clatter of cutlery was the only sound in the back of the restaurant. Y/N stood at the long metal counter, back hunched slightly as she polished a fork with slow, repetitive movements. Her shoulders were pulled up tight- and the faded name tag on her polo was barely clinging on by its safety pin. The white cloth in her hand dragged in steady circles, silver catching the dim light overhead. By the doorway, Sofia leaned one shoulder against the frame. She didn’t say anything at first- just watched her best friend, lips pressed into a thin, uncertain line. Y/N looked like she hadn’t slept a wink. There were shadows under her eyes and a drained stillness in her face. Sofia quietly stepped into the room, picked up another cloth from the drawer, and reached for a fork. Y/N didn’t look up, didn’t say anything, just kept working, kept silent like she had for the past few days. Sofia offered gently,

“Hey”

“Hey”

Y/N murmured back, voice soft but distant, her eyes locked on the fork in her hand like it was the only thing tethering her. Sofia hesitated, cloth in one hand fork in the other, debating how to say what she needed to. Her fingers tightened slightly on the metal.

“I um heard what happened to JJ”

Y/N’s hand paused, just for a second. Just long enough for the silence to crack a little but then she kept polishing.

“Mmhmm”

It was a quiet hum, the kind that meant I heard you, but please don’t ask me to talk about it. Sofia exhaled slowly. She put her fork down, the soft clink echoing in the small room. “Y/N… I haven't seen you for days,” she said, voice quieter now.

“Please talk to me.”

The cloth slipped from Y/N’s fingers. She gently set the fork down beside it, like even letting go of that was too much. Her hand lifted, trembling as she brushed it across her brow- trying to collect herself, to stay composed.

“I don’t know what to do Sof...”

She said, voice breaking mid-sentence. The words hit the air like a wound. Her eyes welled up instantly, lashes soaked before she could even blink. Sofia was already there, wrapping her arms around her in a heartbeat, tugging her in close. Y/N’s chin dropped to her shoulder, her breath hitching in her chest as she pressed her face against Sofia’s polo shirt.

“It’s okay,” Sofia whispered, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

But it wasn’t okay.

It wasn’t okay.

Because Y/N felt like she was standing at the centre of a storm, everything torn apart. JJ wouldn’t even look at her. Wouldn’t speak to her. Her baby brother- her heart- had walked out and she hasn't seen him since then. And Rafe? Rafe had broken the one promise he swore to keep. He’d hurt her in a way she didn’t know how to come back from.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Sofia’s arms stayed tight around her for a long moment, like she could shield her from the weight of it all- from the ache, from the choices, from the fear. Then, gently, she pulled back and brushed a tear from Y/N’s cheek with the bottom of her polo which she'd tugged up. She said softly, tugging at her friend’s hand,

“Come here”

Y/N let herself be led, her limbs sluggish and almost reluctant. Sofia guided her to a small wooden stool tucked beneath one of the prep counters in the back room. She sat her down with careful hands, like setting a glass sculpture onto stone. Then she crouched in front of her, folding herself down so they were eye to eye. Her expression was open, gentle, patient. Sofia asked her voice low and kind,

“Can you tell me what’s going on... ?”

Y/N’s teeth sank into her bottom lip. Her eyes dropped to her lap where her hands were clenched into fists on top of her apron. For a moment, the silence between them stretched. Then Y/N gave a slow, exhaled surrender- and she told her.

Everything

She told Sofia about the second job — how she’d been dancing at the strip club for months just to make ends meet. How the money had been good, but the shame had clung to her skin like an old perfume. She told her about Rafe, about the way he’d taunted her, messed with her head, haunted her space like a ghost that never left her alone. And then how that twisted thing between them had shifted after what happened to her in the parking lot. About the parking lot. How she’d gotten pregnant, how she hadn’t meant to involve him but had nowhere else to go. And how, when it counted, Rafe had helped her and it had turned into more. Secret late nights, quiet promises in dark corners, a fragile, forbidden thing which they nurtured in silence. And as a result it had all blown up. JJ had found out, the one person she'd always protected now looked at her like she was someone he didn’t recognise. But even through the storm the rift between her and JJ had brought, all she could think about was Rafe.

Rafe, who said he wouldn’t tell anyone.

Rafe, who would hold her in his car on late nights and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

Rafe, who promised.

And he broke it.

Sofia didn’t interrupt once. She stayed crouched there, one arm resting on her bent knee, nodding gently as each piece fell from Y/N like shattered glass. Her face remained steady and calm, but her eyes were soft with understanding. With heartbreak for her friend. When the story was done, Y/N swallowed thickly and glanced up at her with wet eyes.

“Please don’t judge me”

She whispered, barely audible. Sofia’s reaction was immediate — a sharp shake of the head. She said, gently but firmly.

“Why would I judge you?”

“I don’t know, I just…” Y/N’s voice cracked. She looked away again, blinking hard. Sofia leaned in a little closer, her brows furrowing with affection.

“Why didn’t you say something, mi corazón?”

“I was just… embarrassed.”

Y/N’s lips wobbled as she gave the smallest shrug and whispered. Without a word, Sofia reached out and laid a steadying hand on Y/N’s knee, grounding her. She spoke her voice laced with quiet conviction.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of”

Y/N’s throat tightened instantly. Her chin dipped, tears slipping down once again. But when Sofia leaned forward and wrapped her into another hug, she folded into it without hesitation- burying her face in her friend’s shoulder, arms clutching around her tightly like she might disappear. “We’ll figure it out, okay?” Sofia whispered against her hair.

“We’ll figure it out together.”

“I love you Sof”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut. Her body sagged in relief at the promise — not that anything was fixed, but that she wasn’t alone. Sofia just hugged her tighter.

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

Y/N threw back the swinging door to the main bar with her hip, a full tray of used glasses balanced effortlessly in her hand. The low hum of muffled chatter greeted her like a familiar blanket, warm and a little suffocating. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the bar's lights as she stepped back behind the counter, dumping the tray beside the industrial sink with a heavy exhale. She hadn’t realised how much she needed that talk with Sofia until now. Something about finally saying it out loud- all of it- had loosened the tightness in her chest. The weight of silence had been unbearable, and now, while the ache still lingered, she could breathe again. Just a little. But there wasn’t time to dwell in her thoughts anyways, not tonight.

The bar was packed, voices raised, chairs scraping against floorboards, orders being placed and the occasional whistle. She adjusted the apron which was tied snug around her waist, as a guy asked from the far end of the bar, adding on the name of his tab.

“Two shots of tequila, lime and salt on the side”

“Of course”

She replied without missing a beat, already grabbing the bottle and reaching for shot glasses. Her hands moved fast- pouring, shaking, stirring. She restocked bottles of liquor without thinking, cracked open a fresh case of beer, wiped condensation from the metal counter and replaced a handful of clean napkins. Someone ordered a mojito and she went to work muddling the mint, crushing ice with a practiced rhythm. It was muscle memory by now- she didn’t have to think, which was exactly what she needed.

No room for thoughts, no room for Rafe, or JJ, or anything else eating her alive from the inside out.

The more she moved, the more she disappeared into the chaos. Her skin gleamed under the bar lights, sweat beading along the back of her neck as she reached overhead to tuck fresh tumblers onto the glass shelf. She barely heard the quiet jazz music anymore, just the beat of urgency thudding in her chest.

“Another whiskey sour”

Someone asked and she reached for the shaker, wipe, pour, shake, serve, repeat, but then something made her glance up and her hand stilled on the bottle. Across the bar, nestled deep into the shadows of the corner lounge area, sat Rafe. Not drinking, not talking.

Just watching her.

He was slouched back in a leather chair like he owned that corner of the room, legs spread comfortably, one arm draped over the armrest. The light barely caught his face, but she didn’t need clarity to know the exact look he was wearing- that familiar unreadable expression, cold eyes fixed solely on her like she was something distant he couldn’t quite reach. Her jaw clenched tight.

The nerve

The audacity?

Y/N quickly looked away, her lips thinning as she focused on the drink in her hands, finishing the sour and passing it across the bar without a second glance. She moved faster now, snatching empty glasses off tables as she passed, ducking into the back cooler for a new bottle of gin, keeping her head down. But every time she looked up- every time- he was still there, still watching. Like a storm cloud on the edge of the horizon, just waiting to roll in, god it made her blood boil.

Her shoulders tensed as she scrubbed a sticky ring off the bar top with more force than necessary. She refused to give him the satisfaction of looking back, refused to let him drag her under again, not tonight. Not while she was trying to hold it together with thin threads and old tape. She poured a round of rum and cokes for a rowdy group at table four, barely registering the guy who tried to flirt with her as she served them. All she could feel was the burn of Rafe’s stare pressing into the side of her face like a brand. The bar area was still pulsing around her, dim lights flickering like fireflies in the low haze, glasses clinking, a muffled jazz beat vibrating through the floorboards but Y/N had started to move on autopilot. Hands quick and precise, wiping down the counters, collecting empty tumblers, taking orders and mixing drinks. She’d just handed off a margarita, salted rim, top-shelf tequila, extra lime, 'the usual', to a woman with long red nails and a tipsy grin when something in her peripheral made her pause.

She looked over and there he was.

Standing just to her left now, not lounging anymore, but leaning forward against the bar- both arms resting casually on the glossy wooden top, the sleeves of his shirt pushed back to his elbows. His expression wasn’t smug, wasn’t cocky like usual. There was no lazy smirk or self-satisfied gleam in his eye. He looked tired, and she could see a faint bruise on his cheekbone. His voice was quieter than normal when he spoke — missing that usual confident drawl.

“Can I get a whiskey on ice?”

Y/N didn’t respond. Not with words anyway, she turned, wordless, and reached for the bottle behind her. Her movements were mechanical and efficient. She pulled out a glass, dropped in the ice, and started pouring slow and steady, never once letting herself really look at him. But she couldn't help it and her eyes flickered up once. Just once. He was already watching her. His gaze was steady, fixed on her with a weight that made her skin prickle. Like he was searching for something in her face, something he couldn’t quite reach, something he knew he might not be allowed to see anymore. Still, she didn’t say a word. Didn’t ask why he was here. Didn’t ask what the hell he thought he was doing. Because truthfully? She didn’t know what she wanted to say to him. There was too much in her mind and it was too loud- much too messy.

Her hand moved on instinct, finishing the pour, and he slid the glass across the bar on a coaster her fingers brushing the condensation as she pushed it toward him. Rafe took it, fingers curling around the glass, but he didn’t drink. He just looked at her, lips pressing into a thin line like he was forcing himself not to say something he might regret. Finally, his voice broke the beat of the music again, soft but edged with something uncertain.

“…are you mad at me?”

Y/N didn’t blink, is he fucking dumb? She didn’t lift her eyes as she answered, her voice flat. Cold. Soaked in disappointment that ran deeper than fury.

“Mad doesn’t even cover it.”

And then she turned, already moving toward the next customer, leaving Rafe standing there, his untouched drink in hand. He didn’t leave, not after that first drink, not after her next round of orders rolled in. Rafe stayed perched on a stool by the bar, watching her every move.

All night.

Eventually he returned to the same leather chair tucked into the farthest corner of the lounge, a space covered just enough in shadow that most people wouldn’t notice him if they were looking. But Y/N did. Every time she turned around, every time she restocked the vodka, every time she handed someone a beer, she felt his eyes.

Waiting.

For what?—she wasn’t sure. A chance to speak to her? Forgiveness? Maybe just a single glance from her in his direction. She didn’t give him that- not once. Not even when her arms began to ache from shaking drinks. Not even when her lower back pinched from bending to stock crates under the bar. She kept moving, kept working, pushing through the ache in her chest and the hot buzz behind her eyes because looking at him, acknowledging him, might just undo her right there behind the bar.

He didn’t make it easy, he stayed there, that untouched whiskey glass still in front of him like he didn’t even have the stomach to drink it. His elbows rested on the armrests of the chair, posture not lazy like usual was but tense. Stiff. Even Sofia noticed. The first time she passed by his corner delivering a round of beers, she glanced his way—and didn’t hide the icy look she shot him. Her brows furrowed in sharp judgment, eyes narrowing as she walked by without breaking her stride. The second time, she muttered something under her breath in Spanish that sounded suspiciously like a curse. The third time, Rafe shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable now. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoided looking at her directly. His fingers tapped restlessly against the side of his glass, but he didn’t leave.

Y/N clocked it all from across the room.

How he didn’t even try to defend himself under Sofia’s glare. How he just sat there, letting himself stew in whatever guilt had driven him here in the first place. Despite every ounce of anger boiling in her chest, some part of her- a stupid, bruised part- still wondered why. Why he was there. Why he hadn’t left. Why he did what he did in the first place.

But she didn’t ask, she couldn't.

She just kept pretending she didn’t feel his stare burning a hole through her ribs.

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

Y/N shoved her apron deep into her bag, the fabric still damp from the shift. Her locker door clanged shut harder than necessary, echoing through the quiet staff room. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled the worn bag closed. Sofia leaned against the frame of the doorway, arms crossed, watching her closely.

“You sure you don’t want me to walk you to your car?” her voice soft, gentle, hesitant, "why don't you just come and stay with me for the night? You know my parents really won’t mi—”

“I’m fine”

Y/N cut her off with a half-hearted smile, already slinging her bag over her shoulder,

“Really- I'll be ok”

Sofia didn’t push. She just nodded, a quiet understanding behind her brown eyes, and reached out to give her friend’s arm a warm rub, reassuring and grounding.

“Text me when you get home”

She spoke out with a soft smile, and then turned returning back to serving, leaving Y/N alone with the dim hum of the locker room lights. Y/N let out a breath as the door swung shut behind her, then turned on her heel and started out, walking the familiar halls of the country club in silence. The floors echoed under her shoes, the once-buzzing energy now dulled down to a few scattered patrons still nursing their drinks at the bar. Her path was straight and certain; out the lobby, across the lot, into her car, and then home to her bedroom where she could finally fall apart all over again but that plan cracked the moment she heard his voice,

“I can’t stand not talking to you”

It stopped her mid-step. She turned, eyes narrowing as her gaze landed on him, standing just a few feet away near the archway that separated the main area from the corridor. His posture was rigid, jaw tight, eyes desperately locked on her like the sight of her physically hurt him.

“Cornering me at work Rafe?” Her voice was sharp, cutting.

“Seriously?”

“Please,” he said quickly, “it was a mistake”

Her laugh was dry and humourless as she took a step back, putting more space between them as she spoke out to him,

“Well I don’t want to fucking see you. Okay?”

She turned sharply on her heel, her shoes hitting against the polished floor as she headed for the door to get as far away as she possibly could from him. He took a step after her calling out her name,

��Y/N—”

“I said I’m done”

She snapped without looking back as her hand moved forward to press against the cool glass of the door but that’s when his hand caught her wrist. Not hard- not even rough. Just a desperate, instinctual reach to stop her from walking away from him but it didn’t matter.

She flinched- visibly.

Her body jolted back, her breath catching in her throat like someone had shoved her against a wall, and she harshly snatched her hand away from him. His hand was off her in an instant, eyes wide with horror.

“Shit- I'm sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

His voice was genuinely shaken, like he'd just realised something too late... it didn't take a genius for him to figure out why she'd reacted that way. They stood there, the air heavy and still. Her chest rising and falling in quiet breaths. Him, frozen in place like if he moved too fast he’d shatter the last piece of her that was still standing in front of him. Y/N finally looked up at him, her voice cracked,

“I trusted you.”

Rafe’s lips parted like he wanted to speak, but the words never came. Just the ache of guilt, swelling like a lump in his throat preventing him from speaking out to her. “Out of everyone on this island,” she said, each syllable slow, deliberate, trembling,

“I trusted you.”

And God, that look in her eyes when she looked away- betrayal, hurt- it gutted him. Because no one had ever trusted him like that before- and he’d thrown it away in a moment of reckless anger which was worthless to him now. She didn’t need to see the look on his face to know it would upset her, but when she looked up to him again it almost stopped her in her tracks. Rafe was still standing there, just a few steps behind where she left him, eyes damp with unshed tears, his lower lip trembling like he was fighting it- like he was barely holding himself together. For a moment, she felt like she couldn’t breathe- but she didn’t have the space to carry his pain on top of hers. So she shook her head, a tiny, bitter movement- more to herself than to him- and turned away. She didn’t wait to see if he’d call out again, she didn’t want to hear anything else come out of his mouth. Y/N pushed through the exit doors into the still, quiet night.

The staff parking lot was nearly empty now. Sofia’s little beat-up car was a few spots over from her own, the manager’s black SUV on the far side but that was it. Empty asphalt, dim overhead lights, and the sound of her own footsteps echoing with every step toward her car. She half-expected him to follow, but he didn’t. Good, she thought to herself he didn’t deserve to. As she approached her car, something caught her eye- a small, white rectangle tucked neatly beneath the wiper blade of her windshield. Her stomach twisted. She glanced around the lot on instinct, but saw no one. Carefully, she plucked the paper from under the wiper. It was a folded-up note card. And when she opened it, two crisp hundred-dollar bills fluttered to the pavement at her feet.

Her heart dropped as her eyes scanned the message.

" Sorry baby x "

She scoffed out loud, bitter and disbelieving, the sound catching in her throat like a laugh soaked in gasoline. She bent down slowly, picked up the bills, her fingers trembling. Was this a joke? Was this what he thought would make things better? Footsteps echoed behind her and she didn’t even need to turn because she knew it was him. Hot rage snapped through her chest like a rubber band and before she could think twice, she whirled around and stormed back toward him, shoes slamming against the pavement. Her fist clutched the note and the cash tightly, nails biting into her palm. He was just a few yards away, hands stuffed in his pockets, walking slowly like he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing- but when she closed the distance between them, he stopped dead in his tracks. Without hesitation, she shoved the paper and bills into his chest shoving him back, her voice shaking from fury.

“I don’t want your fucking money Rafe!”

The bills nearly slipped from his hands as he reached up, fumbling to catch them. His brows furrowed, panicked and hurt.

“I’m just trying to help you—”

“I’m not a FUCKING CHARITY CASE!”

She snapped yelling out at him, voice rising, eyes glinting under the parking lot lights. The words hung between them like a slap and he stared at her like she’d just knocked the wind out of him. She could see it now- the way his mouth opened, then shut again, how he couldn’t look her in the eye, how the words on his tongue died before they ever reached his lips. Because he knew. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t something a couple hundred bucks and a sorry would fix. But still… he reached for her. Not to touch, but to speak- his voice cracked, low.

“Y/N…”

She stepped back.

"Don’t."

Her breath hitched, and she swallowed it down with every ounce of strength she had left. She looked at him, really looked at him- messy hair, tired eyes meeting that wounded expression on his face like he was the one who got hurt- and it made her sick. "You don't get to be upset," she whispered, voice trembling but sharp as glass.

"This is your fault."

She spoke out through gritted teeth and he just shook his head in response and he sighed out, his hand coming out and running over his hair before he could say another word to her, she turned and walked away she refused to listen to hi-

“I love you”

His voice cuts through the space between them- soft and low, but it stopped her in her tracks like a bullet. Y/N froze, completely, her back still to him. Her hand comes up over her face, trembling as she tries to breathe through it, tries to swallow down everything rising in her throat. She feels like her knees are about to give out underneath her, chest heaving with the kind of pressure that builds until it becomes unbearable, the kind that threatens to spill out in hot, angry tears. What the fuck was he doing? Her hand drops slowly to her side, fingers twitching, keys clinking in her grip. She turns, slow and tired and sharp all at once, and lifts her chin just enough to meet his gaze. Her voice is tight, quiet, venom-laced and barely hanging on.

“Don’t say shit like that.”

She takes a step back like his presence burns. He tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Why not?”

“Because—” she starts, then bites the word off, jaw clenching as she shakes her head, like she can just shake him out of her mind.

“Just don’t.”

But Rafe- he stays rooted to the pavement, watching her like she’s sand slipping through his fingers and he's desperate enough to fall to the floor and start picking up each grain individually. “Please,” he says, voice rough with a pleading edge she’s never heard from him.

“Just listen to what I have to say”

She shakes her head again, more frantic this time, her thumb jabbing the car key until she hears a beep, the headlights flashing like a warning. She storms toward the door, her breath hitching in her throat. “Well then talk to me,” Rafe tries again, following her now, steps echoing hers. Desperation claws into his voice.

“Please Y/N- talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you, okay?”

She whirls around so fast he almost walks right into her, and with a sharpness that nearly cuts the air and she snaps, voice cracking in the middle, hand shaking around the keys.

“I don’t want to talk to you- my whole life is crumbling around me, and funnily enough, you seem to be the core of my problems.”

“No, I’m not—”

“Yes you are!”

Y/N yells as she raises her hands in defeat, voice ringing out across the empty parking lot, echoing off metal and asphalt and silence. She’s standing there, chest rising and falling so hard it looks like she might collapse under the weight of it all. Her lip trembles as she stares at him- like he’s the storm and she’s the goddamn wreckage.

“I seem to only be thinking about you!”

She chokes out, the words ragged. Real. They're out of her mouth before she can stop them and when they land, when the truth hangs heavy and cruel between them, her entire expression shifts. Like the world’s been ripped from beneath her feet and she’s the one who did it. Her lips press together, her shoulders sag, and her eyes flicker down like she’s already trying to take it back.

But it’s too late.

Rafe just stares at her, a flicker of pain surging behind his eyes. No smirk, no cocky retort, no smug line like always. Just... stunned- like he’s been punched in the chest. She exhales shakily and reaches for the car door handle, gripping it so tight her knuckles go white. She tries to anchor herself to the cold metal but then his voice cuts through the silence, earnest.

“...I think about you too.”

She squeezes her eyes shut as though to block his voice out.

“All the time I'm thinking about yo-”

“No.” 

Her voice is barely a whisper now fractured and frightened.

“Stop.”

“Why?” Rafe asks, his tone is softer this time.

“What are you so afraid of?”

Her fingers tremble where they rest against the door, and she swallows hard, the lump in her throat too big to ignore now. “I can’t-” she croaks, shaking her head like it physically hurts her to speak.

“I can’t do this with you, Rafe. I just can’t.”

“Why?”

His voice is gentle- almost pleading- just a thread of sound in the night air. He steps closer, careful not to touch her, but close enough that she can feel the heat of him lingering like a ghost, like he’s haunting her just like everything else she’s tried to bury. “Y/N,” he says, his tone catching at the edges,

“you know you want to. So why are you running away?”

She doesn’t answer. She just stands there, shaking her head slowly, lips pressed tight like she’s trying to hold herself together with sheer will alone. Because how is she supposed to explain it? How does she say out loud that love feels like a noose around her throat- that she's only ever known the kind that hurts. She hates it- hates that he’s asking the very question she keeps asking herself.

Why is she running?

The answer lodges in her chest, sharp and bitter: because she’s scared. Scared of how much this means, scared of what it could take from her, scared of how much it already has. She’s never really been loved. Not the way people are supposed to be. Not by her father, who only ever saw her as a mirror of everything he hated. Not even- if she’s being honest- by JJ, because JJ has the Pogues he has John B and the others and she… she’s always felt like second place- like an afterthought, even when they swore they were all each other had. So yeah- she’s scared. Because this? What she feels when Rafe looks at her, what stirs deep in her gut when he says her name like a prayer he’s never gonna stop saying, it’s terrifying.

Because she loves him.

She loves him.

More than she even knew she could and that’s what terrifies her the most. Rafe sees the shift. The tear rolling down her cheek and his hands twitch at his sides- because he wants to reach out. Wants to tell her it's okay to be scared. That he’s scared too. But his voice breaks around the weight of it.

“Y/N I lov-”

“Please”

She whispers, eyes glossy as the salt water drips down the skin of her face, her voice raw and strained.

“Just let me go home.”

His jaw tenses hard enough it clicks, the muscle there jumping. His mind screams at him to keep her here, to talk it out until she's in his arm again but instead, he nods, jaw locked tight like he’s holding back something that might rip him in half if he lets it loose. He steps back and she can't meet his eyes. She just slips into her car like she’s done a thousand times, hands shaking as she fumbles with the key, breath stuttering through her chest. The door shuts with a quiet thud that sounds final.

And then- she’s gone. Taillights disappear down the dark road, red glow vanishing into the night. Rafe stands there for a second, not moving, just staring at where her car used to be. His chest rises and falls like he’s been running, but he hasn’t moved at all. His hands lift to his hair, a groan tearing from his throat, guttural and helpless. He paces once, twice in rage and heartbreak and desperation tangling all over each other until he doesn’t even know what to feel anymore.

Because fuck.

He knows that she loves him but he’s scared he’s already lost her anyway.

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

The drive home is silent, except for the low hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of gravel beneath her tires. Her hands are loose on the wheel now, posture slumped like all the weight of the night has finally caught up to her. The headlights sweep over the front of her house as she pulls in, illuminating the weather-worn porch, the chipped paint on the steps.

She parks and cuts the engine.

For a moment, she doesn’t move. Just rests her forehead gently against the steering wheel and closes her eyes quiet sniffles filling the car. She lets herself sink into the kind of stillness that feels like sinking into water- quiet, numbing, heavy. She sits there and thinks for a moment, she thinks how she wishes she could just start over. Somewhere far away, somewhere no one knows her name and no one knows what she’s done. Somewhere she could exist without always feeling like she's on the edge of ruin. Like she's constantly holding everything together with nothing but her fingertips and good intentions. Her chest tightens as she breathes out a shaky sigh finally reaching for the door handle.

She steps out into the cool night, her shoes landing softly on the dried grass. The sky is thick and clouded, swallowing the stars whole, no moonlight shining through. As she approaches the porch, she notices just a faint flicker of light through the drawn shutter blinds. Her steps quiet as she doesn’t want to make a sound. Y/N slides her keys into the lock carefully, twisting them with a gentle hand.

Click

The door eases open and she slips inside and shuts it behind her—softly, gently, like maybe if she moves quiet enough, nothing will break but as she turns around and stops cold. Dead in her tracks. Her breath catches in her throat, and her eyes lock onto the living room just a few feet ahead.

Her father is sitting on the couch.

Half his face lit by the dim glow of the table lamp beside him. The other half shrouded in darkness. His shoulders are hunched forward, one hand dangling off his knee, a glass of something clutched loose in his fingers. Whiskey maybe, or vodka, or whatever was cheapest this week. His eyes are open and staring straight at her. It’s like the air’s been sucked out of the house. His expression unreadable beneath the haze of alcohol—and maybe something stronger. She’s still frozen there, heart pounding so loud she can feel it in her throat, her ears, her ribs. Like it’s trying to crawl out of her. But it’s not him that makes her stomach twist into knots and her lungs forget how to breathe. It’s what’s sitting on the table in front of him, laid out neatly on the small coffee table like some sort of offering.

A pair of her stripper heels.

taglist: @xoxosblogsblog @moonywhisp3rs @i-love-gvf @my-name-is-baby@ltristessedureratoujours @stoned-writer @mariamadison6-blog@rafesgurl@rafecameronswhoore @lovelytoomusic @mysticbby2009 @vanessa-rafesgirl@silkenthusiasts @partygirl14 @amterasuu @xoxo-ada @icaqttt@ivysprophecy @mauvesmax @larema121 @ggraycelynn @emeloyy @pluviophilis@slut-4-gojo @willowpains @wtfisastiles @rafecqmeronslove @pleasstory@lolasangelz @beau-dabomb @psychocitylights @constantsadness @rhianthebest@emmiesummers @sfotiegiuls @ggraycelynn @larema121 @emeloyy @pluviophilis@urgoldens @insominagirlss @urfavoritebrunette007 @mauvesmax @miniiminie@kythefangirl25 @niyalovests @scream4mami @aizawawify @prettybabyyyy@barbiefan14 @keennerdslover @rafeysslut @rafeysworldim19@jennieonline@hannieskzzz@sugak00kie03@gabrielaperez11@simonejacpbsen @bambigirl10 @prettycoochieee

[cameronsbabydoll]

Omg the rafe idea is so good!! Just watching all the boys get frustrated bc they know they did it to themselves

ahh yes! sorry for the late reply i’ve been working on the sugar-coated chains series (and btw im writing chapter seven !!!)

You step out of the car, your tiny mini dress barely containing your energy, and your high heels clicking against the pavement. You latch onto Rafe’s arm with a grin, practically bouncing beside him as you head towards the beach. You're completely oblivious to how his eyes stay fixed on you, and the smirk on his lips shows he’s more than a little entertained by your presence.

You tug your phone from your bag, scrolling through it with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Rafe! You won’t believe what I found. I’m, like, reading this article on how to make your lips look even fuller. It’s, like, so cool."

Rafe chuckles, but there's something in his voice—teasing, but not unkind. “Doll, your lips are perfect already. But sure, I’m game if you wanna try something new.” His hand drops to your waist as he guides you through the crowd, completely possessive of your space. He can’t help but smile when you just nod along, eager to dive deeper into whatever random thought crosses your mind.

You continue babbling, not even noticing how Rafe’s arm moves lower, resting possessively on your ass. “Right?! So, like, if I use this trick, I’ll have, like, the most kissable lips ever!” You giggle, completely unaware of how you sound.

Rafe just smiles down at you, his smirk growing wider. "If it makes you feel better, sure. But you’re already cute enough, bunny." His voice drops lower, his tone almost teasing as he adds, "Not sure how much more you need.”

You giggle, not picking up on his sarcasm. “Aww, thanks! I’m, like, so glad you think so!” Your excitement is genuine as you continue talking about the newest beauty trend you’ve found, completely missing the fact that Rafe’s eyes are locked onto you with something more than just amusement. There's affection there.

The two of you arrive at the beach, and you’re still talking a mile a minute, oblivious to the group of Pogues watching you both from the bonfire. You don’t notice Pope’s confused look, or John B’s slightly raised eyebrow. But Rafe? He notices them.

With a glance over his shoulder, Rafe gives a little chuckle, his hand still firmly on your ass as he continues walking beside you, acting like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Hey, I swear, if you’re gonna talk about poodles for another hour, we might need to get you one,” he teases, squeezing you gently.

You blink at him, giggling again. “Poodles are, like, totally the cutest! I could totally take one around town in a pink stroller!” You pause, eyes wide. “Oh my gosh, that would be so cute, right?”

Rafe laughs, a soft, fond chuckle. “Yeah, bunny, you’d be the talk of the town. Just make sure it doesn’t outshine you.”

As you both approach the bonfire, you don’t even realize the Pogues are staring. You’re too busy holding up your phone and showing Rafe a new picture of a puppy you found, still oblivious to the way Pope, John B, and JJ are looking at you in confusion.

“Poodles?” Pope mutters, not quite sure what to make of all this.

John B shrugs. “I... don’t know what I expected, but definitely not this.”

JJ raises an eyebrow, then watches Rafe closely. “I don’t get it, man. He’s, like, all in on her. He’s holding her ass in public like it's nothing.”

But Rafe? He’s still focused on you, walking confidently with you at his side, never once pulling away from his slightly condescending, affectionate demeanor. "I swear, bunny, you're making me sound like a bad influence, but I kinda like it."

You grin, still clueless. “Like, I think I could teach the world about poodles!” You giggle, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

Rafe just shakes his head, grinning back. “Yeah, bunny. Teach them everything they need to know. You’re really something else.”

You glance up at him with a playful smile. “You think I’m something else?”

He pulls you in closer, hand on your ass tighter now. “Yeah, you’re a lot of things, but I’ll tell you what—you’re mine.”

You laugh again, not even noticing how much he’s enjoying this, his affection clear despite his playful condescension.

As you walk away from the Pogues, you continue your carefree chatter, oblivious to the looks you’re getting. Rafe watches you with amusement, but there’s something else in his eyes—he’s not just laughing at you. He’s fond of you, and if anything, he enjoys the way you make him feel like the most important guy in the world, like he’s the one who knows how to handle you.

When you both pass the Pogues again, you’re still talking about the same thing. Your hands are wrapped around your phone, eyes wide as you go on about the “poodle craze,” and Rafe’s grin only deepens as he gives your ass another possessive squeeze.

The Pogues? They just watch, wide-eyed and silent. Rafe’s got a way with you. You’re his, and he’s so incredibly okay with that.

[princessbrunette]

pogue!rafe + bunny core idk…

[rafeys-angel13]

a boy who’s jacked and kind!

summary: jj can lift you easily and loves to manhandle you (gently of course).

warnings: none

writers notes: need him to manhandle me 😛

one time, you were arguing with a girl at a party after she hit on jj right in front of you. he let you scream at her because she deserved it and it was hot. he also let you punch her a few times.

however, when he decided you’d done enough damage he walked over and picked you up with one arm around your waist.

“come on, you little devil…” he chuckles and sets you down, facing away from the girl who’s now whining about how you ruined her dress. he smiles and pushes some hair out of your slightly pouting face, kissing your forehead.

“you’re not mad?” you look up at him with those, sweet, glistening eyes. jj scoffs softly and shakes his head.

“never, princess…” he smiles, still subtly holding your waist, both for your comfort and to keep you from running back to that girl.

it was a nice, sunny morning like usual in outer banks. you guys woke up at the chateau and cuddled for a short while, trying to figure out what you want to do today.

“i really don’t care, as long as i get a tan” you smile and jj chuckles, squeezing you tighter.

after some time, you decide to get up and make something to eat after hearing your stomach rumble. you sit up, only to be dragged back down by jj. he wraps both arms and legs around you, anchoring you to him so you can’t move.

“jj… for christ sake. what?” you sigh and run your hand through his hair.

“don’t go… i don’t want you to go…” he squeezes you really tight.

“then stop squeezing me so tight. i can’t breathe, you know?” you huff. he immediately softens his grip, kissing your collarbones gently.

“sorry princess” he smirks, looking up at you.

“you have sleepy stuff in your eyes…” smiling softly, you gently scrape the sleepy stuff out of his eyes. he scrunches his face up like a child and pulls away as you giggle.

you’re scrolling on tiktok and you see a video of a girl and a boy to ‘slim pickins’ by sabrina carpenter. the boy lifts the girl onto his shoulder by her waist.

you smirk and turn over to show jj it. he chuckles,

“i can do that…” he smirks and you giggle.

“come on, try it…” you stand up from the bed and set your phone up against a glass you hadn’t cleared away. he stands behind you as you start the timer.

he excitedly waits for his cue and then gently lifts you up by the waist, you don’t even have to jump or anything. he sets you gently on his shoulder, his movements careful and controlled. he carries you over to your phone to stop the recording to watch it back.

“damn, look at my arms” he gently sets you down on the bed and sits next to you.

“yeah you’re hot” you chuckle and he leans his head on yours.

“post it…” he nudges the phone over to you and you tag him and press post.

jj walks into the living room as you’re laying on the couch. he picks you up bridal style, one arm under your knees and one arm under your back, making you squeak in surprise.

he then starts doing bicep curls, but you’re the weight. then, he sets you down on the sofa again.

“what the hell was that for?” you fix your shirt that he’d twisted slightly as he lifted you.

“just wanted to show you what i can do…” he smiles, looking down at you.

“well done jayj… you’re getting bigger and bigger each day” you smile sweetly, knowing exactly how to boost his ego. he grins, walking back outside to sit with the boys again.

-

dividers by @uzmacchiato!

[rafesbunny]

i need you tonight- r.c x pogue!reader

where rafe is pussy whipped for pogue!reader

if anybody asked rafe, you were a dirty, whored out pogue, but in reality you two has been secretly hooking up for the last three months. and he was absolutely whipped, and you couldn’t deny you thought he was attractive, but in reality you were just using him to get your fill of dick. you absolutely despised rafe and pretty much all kooks except from sarah, and rafe felt the same way about pogues too, so it was a huge shocker when rafe approached you on your way home from work. you had been walking back from a long shift at the country club bar all the way to the cut, you were exhausted from working in the heat all day long and now the trek back to the chateau, when rafes luxury car slowed down next to you and the tinted windows rolled down revealing the man behind the wheel. although you already knew who it was, who didn’t know it was rafes car, the way he was always out flaunting it. “sweetheart!” he called out from the drivers side. you could easily lie and say that he was disgusting calling you that name instead of being truthful about how you found him attractive despite your best friends being jj and john. but you couldn’t hide the slight blush that tinted your cheeks. “i have a deal for you” he carried on, this perked your interest. the cameron boy had a lot more than you in every way- hell more than the whole island combined- so you knew his offer had to be good. “what is it rafe” you rolled your eyes, keeping up your hard, as someone would call it, bitchy personality and carried on walking. “i’ll get topper to drop the charges against jj” you stopped walking, and rafe stopped driving. you had to hide your smile creeping onto your face, you knew how much it would mean to jj if that happened, coldly you asked him, “what do i have to do?” he deadpanned, “sleep with me”

and that’s how you ended up in his bed, and the next morning jj rant into the chateau animatedly telling everyone how the case has been dropped. although it didn’t stop there and three months later, rafe was completely hooked though you didn’t seem to even give him a second thought after leaving his house for the fourth time that week.

it was two am, and rafe sat there in bed with one thing on his mind. you. he had to have you, not even to sleep with, just to be near, even to hear your voice so he rang you up. “hello?” you answered groggily with a hint of confusion not knowing who was on the other side of the line, still not getting round to saving rafes contact in your phone. “hello babe, what’s happening, you cool?” rafe asked finally relieved to hear your voice. “yeah i’m good, what’s goin’ on?” rafe was blind to the clear annoyance in your tone, “alright, nothin’ er chillin’…” you didn’t respond, “alright, what you up to later?” he pressed on, desperate to even hear you. you sighed, “oh yeah about that, um, d’ya know what im really busy can i call you back?” and hung up before he got to say, “i need you tonight”

part 2??? 🎀

[bambiesstuff]

pogue!bunny in obx

warning!! mentions of potential nsfw themes (sw). you are responsible for the media you consume xoxo

♡ pogue!bunny who is dating jj and pope! shes a bubbly sparkly girl with a million jobs to try and fund her shopping addiction. One boy just wasn’t enough! definitely dated rafe but now hes a toxic jealous ex :P

♡ pogue!bunny who grew up dirt poor in a house rotting and leaky admiring other girls with new glittery gelpens and smiggle pencil cases. Always dreamt of being spoiled and having some male validation her father never gave.

♡ pogue!bunny who loves glitter and pink, lives in her juicy couture and mini skirts, big pink pleaser heels, fresh manicures and a massive handbag collection <3

♡ pogue!bunny who works at the club most nights appealing to old men for hundreds of dollars. tiny pink bikinis and body glitter plus she has a pretty pink twitter where she posts similar stuff anonymously 4 more cash :3

♡ pogue!bunny who has pope tutor her but gets too stressed and reads magazines instead and takes selfies

♡ pogue!bunny who is actually pinterest famous shes the representation of hyperfem princesses in media! serves diva

we all need a pogue!bunny in life

[starfxkrinc]

How did the girls lost their virginities?

foxy was 13 at summer camp she cried after bc she felt guilty

kitten was 15 with jj it was weird

bunny was 18 it was her friend

pup was 17 also a friend

[urmum-lovesme]

Guys this is so bunny in the club!!!

I loooveee

[rafesangelita]

♡ breaking the one rule he was always supposed to follow, rafe found himself sitting in the shadows of the gentlemen’s club where bitchy!pogue!reader worked at. imagine your surprise when you find out the person that paid for a private dance with you is your brother’s best friend.. and business partner.

warnings: stripper!reader, brother’s best friend trope, mentions of you and barry arguing, sexual tension, flirty banter, making out, heavy petting

a/n: this is what bitchy!pogue!reader is wearing in this btw.. i watched anora and worked on this right after lol

wc: 1.1k

rafe knew it was wrong the second he got in his truck and drove down to ‘pink sugar’ to see if you were there. he knew it was wrong when he walked in and scanned the room for you, and he knew it was wrong when he took a corner seat furthest from the stage. after overhearing you and barry arguing about what you did for work, rafe couldn’t help himself from seeing what was making you come home with a duffle bag full of cash. his curiosity got the best of him, and when he saw you emerge from behind the curtains, pink lace lingerie hugging the curves of your body, the cutest pair of bunny ears adorning your head, with a little bunny tail on your g-string to match, all the guilt he once felt melted away into nothing.

you were sin with legs. rafe watched you smile at the men in the front, the group of them emptying their wallets when you hadn’t even did anything to make them shower you with cash. then again, rafe felt the urge himself to give you all of his money just because you were so pretty. rafe swallowed thickly when your song started and the lights went low, everyone’s attention zeroing in on you as you lowered yourself to the glossy floor of the stage. he watched you crawl to the center, arching your back as the rhinestones around your eyes sparkled under the club lighting. one of the men reached out, poking the little ball that was your bunny tail, slipping what looked like a hundred dollar bill in the string of your bottoms.

rafe hated the way the men in here were looking at you right now, his fists clenching at his sides as he imagined what kind of thoughts were currently running through their heads. “that’s it, baby!” a drunken holler was shouted, the rest of the club following suit and bursting into a fit of cheers when you managed to spin around the pole in the middle of the stage. rafe watched in awe, deciding he needed to get you to himself, and away from the hungry stares of the crowded club. making his way over to the bouncers that stood outside of a concealed hallway, he handed both of them a few crispy bills. “get the one on stage with me and i’ll double it.” without another word, both of the security guards moved aside, letting rafe through.

you finished the rest of your set, blowing kisses to the men who made it a mission of theirs to spoil you rotten tonight before you made your way to the locker rooms where you refreshed your hair and makeup. “y/n?” nancy, the owner’s right hand woman walked in, “i have a private dance for a younger gentleman in room five.. he requested you specifically.” you smiled at her through the reflection of the mirror. “okay, i’ll be right over.” you nodded, giving yourself one more glance before making your way down the dimly lit hallway. the first private dance of the night always made you a little anxious, but at least you knew you were guaranteed a hundred dollars that you didn’t have to share.

you took a breath, twisting the door knob open before going in, shutting the door closed right after. “i must be special if you chose me..” you placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, walking around him before standing between his legs. looking down, you felt your heart drop to your stomach when he looked up, the face all too familiar to you. “yeah, you are.” you gasped, retreating your hand from him as if he burned you. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing, rafe?!” you nearly lost your footing when you stepped back, suddenly feeling exposed as his eyes trailed down your body. “what? i’m just a paying customer.” he shrugged, tossing back the drink in his hand.

“oh, yeah? tell that to barry. he’ll kill you if he finds out you were here.” you scoffed, your eyes meeting his. rafe stared at you for a moment, motioning for you to get closer to him. you swallowed thickly, the small disco ball in the room illuminating his features. “i’m not gonna do anything to you, i just wanted you away from everyone out there.” he spoke lowly. you took a step, accepting the hand he held out for you before he guided you onto his lap. you wrapped an arm around his shoulders like it was second nature, his large palm running up and down your thigh. “sooo.. you think you’re doing me a favor by pulling me back here so no one else can watch me dance?” your face was just mere inches away from rafe’s.

“i’m losing out on a lot of money, ‘country club..” you whispered, the slow music playing softly in the background. “how much do you want. throw me whatever number you’d like.” you smiled, your fingers slipping underneath the hem of his polo. “two thousand,” you spoke, “with interest.” rafe laughed, nodding his head as he trailed his hand from your thigh to your hip, adjusting the strap of your g-string against your skin. “with interest, huh?” he smirked, eyes falling down to your lips, “..i’d happily give that to you.” you leaned in first, just wanting to feel his lips on yours. rafe stilled for a second, a groan rumbling from his chest when he pulled you closer by your neck, returning your kiss tenfold.

“is barry home?” he was breathless when he pulled away, his hands roaming your body as if he wanted to take you right then and there. at the mention of your brother, reality seemed to grip its claws into you when you realized what you were doing right now. rafe saw the look of confliction pass over your face, his fingers cupping your chin to avert your attention back onto him. “hey..” he whispered, “i won’t tell if you don’t.” his words echoed in your head, his cologne and his proximity overtaking your senses. as if you two were meeting on the same page, rafe watched as your eyes grew dark, a smile gracing your lips. “i don’t kiss and tell, rafe.” as if a flip switched, you two began ravaging each other once more.

time slowed when you two moaned into each other’s mouths, grappling onto one another as if the two of you would disappear if you let go. “barry’s gone for the night.” you managed to speak between kisses, rafe nodding as he cupped you through your bra. just as he was going to tell you to leave with him, the bouncer outside the door yelled that rafe’s thirty minutes were up. “what the fuck, already?” he glanced down at his watch. you sighed, letting rafe pick you up before he kissed you one more time. “get your shit and let’s go, i’ll be waiting at the front door.” he squeezed the globes of your ass, making you gasp as he walked out. and just like that, rafe never let you step foot in that club again.

[futuremrscameron]

i like you <3 (pogue!bunny x pope)

(was originally in the intro post but it got too long so here you go)

content warnings: horniness (no actual smut)

pope flops down next to her on the couch, throwing his head back and looking up at the ceiling, tired from the food and labor.

"she put you to work, huh?" he can hear the smile in her voice.

he shakes his head, "it's fine. my mom would kill me if i didn't help clean up."

"hm. she raised a gentleman," he chuckles. she says nothing for a while, just taking in the sight of him. he finally looks at her, shocked to see her already looking at him. "hi."

"you wanna go to my room?"

he thinks he's misheard her. maybe it's her accent, or maybe he's more tired than he thought he was and he's hallucinating. he keeps all this in mind when he replies. "huh?"

"do you want to go upstairs to my room?" she breaks it down a little slower, more enunciated. he would be offended if she wasn't so pretty and his head wasn't spinning.

"um-"

"we don't have to. can stay down hear if you want." her accent is heavier, her words rushed and a bit slurred together. he notices that it happens when she's stressed or excited, just like jj.

"i want to!" he'll cringe at his desoeration later and agonize over the possibility of freaking her out.

"great!" she grins, stands up and grabs his hand, pulling him towards the stairs.

"garder la pòrt ouvert petite fille!" she groans upon her grandmother's call from downstairs.

"oui grand-mère!" she calls back.

"what'd she say?"

“don’t worry about it.”

she leads them down the hall when they reach the top. her room is the last door on the right. she opens it and he’s blinded by pink. lots and lots of pink. she sits down on her bed, adjusting a pillow, before turning back to pope, who remains at the doorway.

“you comfortable standing?” she jokes.

“there’s no chairs.”

she pats the empty space next to her, “plenty of space here. more comfortable too.”

he nods, mostly to himself, and takes a deep breath like he’s hyping himself up. every step feels like it weighs a ton as he slowly approaches like a deer entering a lioness’s den. the distance between the door and her bed is so far yet so close and every step feels like it weighs a ton. he finally makes it to the bed and sits down, but make sure to leave some space between them.

“see? isn’t that better?” she teasingly smiles.

he nervously chuckles and quickly averts his eyes, suddenly finding the loose thread from the comforter very interesting.

she leans in slightly to whisper, “you can scooch closer; i don’t bite, promise.”

he feels his face warm and nods. he moves an inch closer, but the space between them remains.

she reaches her pinky out to caress his hand. he stops his thread pulling to look down at the sudden physical contact.

“is this okay?” she caresses his hand with her pinky.

he nods. she closes the distance between them, their thighs now touching. “how ‘bout this?”

“yeah. good. i mean, this is good.” he tries to stay composed, but it’s hard to think clearly with her so close and the warmth of her hand and thigh.

“good." she turns to fully face him. pope misses the feeling of her thigh against highs only for a second before her knee is against his. "i like you, pope.”

he gulps, "i like you too."

she shakes her head and scoots closer, the space between them now a thing of the past. "no i mean, really like you. i want to be with you, pope."

the confession nearly knocks the wind out of him. he's not ignorant to her flirtation, but he didn't think she was serious. though maybe he should have, he she doesn't treat anyone else the way she treats him, not even jj.

"me too. like you, i mean."

she smiles at his flustered state. "can i kiss you?"

he nods.

"gonna need verbal confirmation from you, baby boy."

she's starting to seem more like the devil than an angel at the moment. "yes."

their lips brush up against each other, sending a shiver down his spine. she closes the distance between them with the kiss. pope instinctively wraps his arms around her waist as he kisses back, gently but with purpose. she deepens the kiss, making him moan. she pushes him down and straddles him before diving back in. he grips her thighs. she starts to remove her cardigan when a knock startles them. pope rushes to cover himself; despite being fully clothed, he feels indecent. he looks around hastedly before grabbing her cardigan.

she sighs as she sits up, "the door was open, grandmère, you can't be upset."

"oh i can't?" her grandma crosses her arms and stares her down.

pope feels like he's not supposed to be witnessing this. he clears his throat, "i should go." he wraps the cardigan around his waist as he throws his legs over the bed and onto the floor.

"that'd be best."

"grand-mère!" she stands up and hugs him. "sorry pope."

"i should get an apology." she ignores her grandmère's muttering. he hugs her back awkwardly, "it's fine. my folks are probably getting worried anyway."

when they part he looks down at the cardigan around his waist and begins to untie it. "um- i should-"

"keep it. it'll give you a reason to see me again," she smiles.

he nods, "okay. yeah, cool." he doesn't know what else to say. "okay. well, goodnight." he turns to her grandmother, "thank you for having me, ma'am."

she gives him a hum of acknowledgment. he knows that's the best he'll get from her right now, so he makes his leave. their voices grow quiter as he descends the stairs and leaves the house completely. on his bike ride back home, he thinks about the next time they'll see each other, how he has a girlfriend now, and how she's gonna have to meet his parents in the near future.

[urmum-lovesme]

Bunny (P10)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: Guys- #roadtrip! (this aint no godamn roadtrip.) Lets seeee, this is actually pretty sad but then again bunny and rafe have me in a chokehold. oh and since everyones been dying and sobbing on there knees for it- JJ redemption :)

warnings: mentions of pregancy sickness, anxiety, abortion clinic, an abortion, sad bunny but soft!Rafe

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11) (P12) (P13)

The dock was quiet, only the sound of the water lapping against the wooden posts filling the night air. A few dim lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the worn planks. Y/N sat perched on a stack of crates nearby, a small bag slung over her shoulder, her fingers gripping the strap absentmindedly. The night air was cool, the wind rolling in off the water and she exhaled slowly, watching the way her breath disappeared into the darkness. Her body felt tense, an anxious energy humming beneath her skin and it wasn’t just the cold keeping her on edge.

The sound of boots against wood made her lift her head, and there he was- Rafe, moving toward her in dark clothing, a baseball cap pulled low over his face. She huffed out a small laugh at the sight.

"You look dumb."

"And you don’t?" 

He countered, raising an eyebrow as he gestured to her own cap lightly before stepping beside her. He took a glance around the dock, assessing, scanning, before finally exhaling and leaning against the crate beside her. She looked out at the water, pulling her jacket tighter around herself.

"Thanks for coming with me,"

She said, voice quieter now, like she wasn’t sure if she should say it. He turned his head toward her, studying her profile for a beat before looking back out at the water.

"Of course."

Rafe watches her from the corner of his eye, the way she stared out toward the oncoming ferry, her face unreadable in the dim light a dark shadow covering half her face due to her cap. He asked, his voice quieter this time, not pushing, just… checking.

“Are you okay?”

She blinked, like she wasn’t expecting the question, like she hadn’t even realized she’d been staring for a few seconds too long. She blinked, small but harsh, then followed it by a forced nod,

“Uh, yeah- let’s go.”

Rafe didn’t quite believe her, but he didn’t push. Instead, he reached out, taking the bag from her shoulder without a word and to her own surprise- she let him- watching as he placed it on the opposing shoulder which had his own bag. She followed after him silently as he stepped onto the ferry nearing the empty entrance. The ticket attendant, a tired-looking man in a navy uniform, scanned their tickets. He glanced at the names printed on the peices of paper and read aloud,

“Mr. and Mrs. Walker?”

Y/N furrowed her brows slightly, eyes flicking to the ticket in the man’s hand before turning to Rafe. Before she could say anything, she felt the warm weight of his hand press lightly against the small of her back as he stepped forward smoothly. “Yeah,” Rafe says with an easy grin.

“Me and my wife are just going for a short trip.”

The man barely spared them a glance, nodding as he handed the tickets back, “All good—enjoy your journey.” They stepped past the checkpoint and as soon as they were out of earshot, Y/N whispered,

“Mr. and Mrs...?”

Rafe couldnt surpress the small grin tugging at his lips, eyes ahead as he lead them toward the deck, “I thought you didn’t want to be recognized...” He murmured, voice dripping with amusement.

“Or should I have put your name down as Bunny?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she elbows him, “Shut up, smart ass.”

Rafe just chuckled, pushing open the door to the ferry’s indoor seating, the cool night air following them inside. Yet as he pushed Y/N hesitated for a moment before speaking,

“...Can we sit outside?”

Rafe paused, furrowing his brows as he looked down at her, “Why would you want to do that? It’s dark as hell out there.”

She huffed, crossing her arms, “I’m pregnant Rafe—I get nauseous all the time. At least outside, I’ve got fresh air.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, studying her like he’s trying to figure out if she’s being truthful or just making an excuse so he does what she wants. After a beat, he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he muttered, motioning toward the door that leads to the deck.

“Go on then”

Without hesitation, she pushed through it, stepping out into the crisp night air. A breeze rolled over the ferry, cool and salty, and she breathed it in deeply. She didn’t have to turn around to know Rafe was following right behind her- she could hear his heavy steps. She settled into one of the worn seats, putting her bag he'd passed her on the floor next to her before shifting to get comfortable. The air was cool against her skin, the faint hum of the ferry’s engines vibrating beneath her. Rafe sat down next to her, stretching his legs out and leaning back slightly. He watched her from the corner of his eye, and it didn’t take long for her to notice.

“What?”

She asked, her voice carrying a little edge, like she’s too tired to deal with whatever comment he’s about to make. “Nothing,” he says easily, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a smirk.

“What, can I not look at you?”

“No”

She deadpanned, rolling her eyes before shifting her position, bringing her legs up onto the chair. She folded her arms over her knees, her head resting against them. Rafe eyed her again.

“Are you about to throw up or—?”

“No asshole, I’m just tired”

She muttered, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He scoffed at her harsh tone of voice before speaking up,

“You know, considering I organized this whole thing for you, you’re not very nice are you?”

She shifted her head, now looking at him, but she didn’t say anything. In reality, she knows he’s right. He didn’t have to do any of this for her. Yet, here he is- booking a ferry, making sure no one recognizes them, sitting beside her in the cold night air without a single complaint. She exhaled softly, pressing her lips together.

Maybe he doesn’t deserve the attitude.

She exhaled through her nose the breath rising in a small clous from the chill of the air, gaze dropping to where her fingers play idly with the hem of her sleeve.

"Sorry"

She muttered, barely above the sound of the wind. Rafe didn't say anything right away. He just hummed in acknowledgment, shifting slightly in his seat, like he hadn't really expected her to say it. The ferry rocked gently beneath them, the rhythmic sound of waves slapping against the hull filling the quiet between them. The water stretched out into an endless black abyss, only interrupted by a gleam of moonlight rippling across its surface. The island behind them grew smaller and smaller, its warm, glowing lights fading into the distance, swallowed by the dark. The silence stretched on, the distant hum of the engine the only sound breaking through the quiet between them. "So... " Rafe shifted, his gaze flicking to her profile before he asked

"What did you tell your brother?"

At first, she didn't answer, the question hanging in the air like a weight. Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her sleeve, her gaze still focused on the dark horizon ahead. After a beat, she finally responded, her voice low, almost like she's trying to convince herself as much as him.

"Told him I had a job interview."

Rafe raised an eyebrow in curiosity, "In Charleston... he believed that?"

She hummed softly in response, offering a casual nod as she lets out a quiet breath,

"Yeah."

Her eyes flickered briefly to him, and then she looked away again, the conversation itself being enough to bring on an ache she didn't want to face. She doesn't push the subject further, her gaze falling to the water, watching the faint ripples dance under the boat’s wake. Rafe caught the shift in her demeanour but chose not to say anything. He leaned back slightly, lost in his own thoughts, as the boat cuts through the black sea, the island now nothing more than a faint memory in the distance. His eyes flicked to her, the question sitting heavy on his tongue. The wind whipped through the air around them, but the tension between them felt more heated than the cold.

"Does he know?"

"What?"

"Does JJ know?"

The question seemed simple but his voice softened. Y/N pressed her lips together, her gaze flicking to the dark horizon- looking anywhere but to him. She hesitated before answering, almost like she was trying to convince herself to tell the truth.

"No... he doesn’t."

Rafe blinked, surprise flickering across his features, but he quickly masked it. He nodded, his fingers drumming gently against the table between them. There was something about her answer that he wasn’t expecting.

"...I thought you two were close."

The words hung between them, and Y/N’s shoulders stiffened at the words. She turned toward him, her eyes narrowing, a little defensive. "Look," she started, her voice edged with frustration,

"I don’t go around asking you about your relationship with Sarah or your lack thereof, so why don't you just drop it?"

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and he flinched slightly like he’d been slapped. The air between them shifted and from the way his hand now lay in a fist against the dark coloured table top, she knew she shouldn't have said what she did. He let it linger, only to let out a short, sharp comment-

"Alright, no need for the fuckin’ attitude."

Y/N clenched her own fists, feeling her temper flare at his words. She had no idea why his comment hit her like that- but deep down she knew it was because it sounded awfully similar to what someone else would always say to her- to the words that lingered in the walls of her home.

"God, you know- I just don’t get you Rafe."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his arms folding across his chest, "Yeah? Well I’m all ears Bunny."

Y/N shook her head, her voice biting now, "One minute, you’re nice. Actually, not a complete asshole. And the next? You're right back to being your self-entitled kook self."

He scoffed, leaning back slightly, but the words stung. He wasn’t used to people talking to him like that- he knew what people whispered when he walked but, but directly to his face... no one said a thing- especially not someone like Y/N. Yet instead of apologizing, he shot back, crossing his arms even tighter.

"So, what do you want from me huh? Actin' like you're such a saint yourself Maybank"

Y/N scoffed right back at him, pulling her legs up under her. "You just—" she paused, running a frustrated hand over her face.

"..I don’t know you- you’re just confusing. I can’t figure you out."

Rafe stared at her for a moment, trying to gauge her. There was a vulnerability in her words, a softness she was trying to hide behind all the frustration she kept targeting him with. He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on her, reading her better than she realized. Maybe that was part of the issue- they both knew each other a little too well for their own good. Y/N stood up suddenly, brushing the fabric of her jacket down, her movements quick as she stepped away from him. She didn’t look at Rafe as she moved to stand by the railing, her arms resting on the cool metal as she stared out at the dark expanse of water. The sound of the boat's engine and the subtle slap of the waves against the hull filled the air, but the tension between them still hung thick, unspoken.

Rafe stayed seated, watching her from the corner of his eye. She was illuminated softly by the dim lights of the boat, casting a faint glow across her face, her features softened, but there was still a heaviness to her posture. He felt a pang of guilt deep in his chest, something sharp and uncomfortable. He knew he shouldn’t have pressed her like that, but he couldn’t help it.

For some reason, he always assumed she and JJ were the kind of siblings who shared everything, who didn’t keep secrets. The way she’d been so quick to shield her brother from everything, to keep him from knowing about her pregnancy, caught him off guard. He ran a hand over his jaw, a quiet sigh slipping from his lips. His thoughts drifted—unbidden.

To Sarah.

He hadn’t spoken to her in ages their relationship was... complicated, to say the least. But looking at Y/N now, standing at the edge of the boat with her back to him, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was how she and JJ were now- unable to speak about the things that hurt. The night was growing colder as the boat continued its steady path, the rhythmic hum of the engine almost lulling them into a quiet trance. Y/N shifted in her seat which she had returned to, a soft shiver running through her. The chill in the air seemed to settle in her bones, and without thinking, she muttered,

"I’m going inside. I’m cold."

Her voice was low, almost swallowed by the wind. Rafe, not looking up from his phone hummed in acknowledgment, fingers tapping out a message to Barry who was speaking to him about a new 'supplier'. The noise of his fingers tapping against the phone screen echoed faintly between them, but otherwise, there was nothing more to be said. Y/N didn’t wait for him to reply, standing up with the intention of heading inside. She moved with purpose, but as her foot shifted on the deck, the boat suddenly jolted—a subtle shift in direction that caught her off guard. Her body teetered for a split second before she stumbled, her hand shooting out to catch herself against the railing. It was nothing too dangerous, just the motion of the boat, but in the brief moment of imbalance,

Rafe’s instinct kicked in.

He reach out toward her, his hand halfway in the air before he pulled it back, seeing that she’d already steadied herself. His body froze for a second as he watched her, his gaze lingering on the way her posture straightened again.

Y/N, catching the small flicker of movement from him, glanced over at Rafe, her eyes locking with his for just a moment longer than either of them anticipated. It wasn’t a look of gratitude or acknowledgment- just a silent gaze in his direction, a brief pause that hung between them before she quickly looked away. She said nothing, just turned and continued her walk toward the cabin, moving a little faster now. Rafe stood frozen for a beat, his hand still in the air as though unsure whether to reach out after her. He let his hand drop to his side, watching her retreating figure. The silence around them seemed louder now, the distance between them more palpable than before.

After a moment, he exhaled, a soft sigh escaping his lips, and with a brief glance toward the dark waters, he followed her inside.

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

The soft hum of the taxi filled the air as it moved through the quiet streets of Charleston, the city’s lights casting long shadows on the pavement. The streets, usually busy with the bustle of tourists, were almost empty at this early hour of the morning. The moon hung high in the sky, its light reflecting off the buildings as they passed. Y/N stared out the window, her face illuminated by the passing streetlights. Her eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular- just the empty streets, the quiet that felt too loud between them. She shifted slightly in the backseat, then broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask the question.

"When’s the... clinic booked for?"

Her gaze didn’t leave the window, but she was still waiting for his answer, the question just another small part of this strange, tense journey. Rafe’s eyes flicked to her for a moment before he glanced out his own window, his fingers drumming idly on the seat beside him.

"Evening"

He said simply, his voice low, he didn’t look back at her after that, the words hanging between them with an unspoken understanding. She nodded softly, her gaze still fixed on the darkness outside, her eyes slightly glazed as she thought about what was ahead. The clock on the taxi’s dashboard blinked a bright 3:13 AM, the streets were empty.

The taxi slows to a stop in front of a hotel, the headlights casting a long, soft shadow across the dark pavement. The building isn’t the most luxurious from the outside, but to Y/N, it’s the fanciest place she’d ever set foot in. As she steps out of the cab, she hesitates for a second, looking up at the hotel’s grand but understated exterior. The soft glow of lights spill from the inside, and the hum of quiet conversations can be heard from within.

Rafe’s already out, paying the driver. Y/N adjusts the small bag slung over her shoulder as she follows him inside, her footsteps echoing as they step through the double glass doors.

The lobby is elegantly designed—modern. There are soft armchairs scattered throughout the space, a sleek chandelier hanging overhead, and the hum of quiet conversations. It feels foreign to her, like she doesn’t belong here. Rafe heads up to the reception desk without a second glance, but Y/N, lost in her thoughts, lingers by the lobby’s wide glass windows, gazing out at the city streets. The street is still, save for a few scattered cars driving by.

Her attention is pulled back into the room when she notices a man sitting in one of the armchairs, talking animatedly on his phone. His voice is low, his hand gesturing as he speaks. Sitting beside him, though, is a woman who looks to be in her early thirties, her hair pulled back in a neat bun, dressed simply but elegantly. Y/N’s eyes are drawn to the curve of her belly. The woman’s hand rests gently there, a soft and loving gesture, cradling the life growing inside her. The man finishes his call and puts the phone down, settling next to her with a smile. His words are muffled, but Y/N can tell by the way he’s looking at her- so tenderly- that he’s saying something reassuring. She presses a kiss to his cheek, the act so natural and intimate, and his hand moves automatically to rest on her belly, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Y/N’s heart tightens as she watches them, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, the world around her seems to blur as she’s struck with the emptiness that threatens to overwhelm her. She feels a sting of jealousy- sharp and uncomfortable- but it’s not jealousy of them, not really. It’s jealousy of their simplicity. The way they seem to have it all figured out. Rafe returns to her side, his steps sure as he walks toward her. His eyes quickly flick over to where hers are fixed, but he doesn't need to follow her gaze to know what she's looking at. He doesn’t say anything at first- just watches her for a second longer before clearing his throat. The sound is like a small signal to break the tension hanging in the air.

“I’ve got the key card”

He says, his tone neutral, trying to sound casual but his voice sounds more empathetic than he'd like to let on. Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, she only gives a short nod, her mind still caught on the sight of the couple in the lobby. She blinks a few times, pushing down the emotions threatening to flood her again.

“C’mon”

He says again, stepping toward the elevator. It’s easy to just follow his lead, so she falls in line behind him, her footsteps light as she walks into the lift with him. The doors shut with a soft chime, and the silence between them is thick with the unspoken, and neither of them seems willing to break it. Y/N catches a glimpse of Rafe from the corner of her eye. He’s standing a little too still, his jaw tight, but then he shifts slightly, a sudden yawn catching him off guard.

It’s a soft sound.

She watches him for a moment, then quickly looks away, guilt swirling in her stomach. She feels bad. It’s hard to ignore the fact that she’s dragged him off the island for something she hasn’t even fully explained, and it doesn’t help that she’s been distant with him. He doesn’t owe her this, and yet, here he is. He’s sacrificed his time, his peace, to follow through with something she needed.

Something she couldn’t even handle on her own.

Her chest tightens, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even know how to apologize properly. The doors to the elevator ding, and Y/N shakes herself out of the fog in her head as the doors slide open. She steps out, trailing behind him down the corridor, the low hum of the building’s air conditioning the only sound between them. Her thoughts continue to swirl in a haze, and she follows Rafe wordlessly, her gaze flickering over the brightly lit walls and the muted carpeting underfoot. The beep of the card unlocks the hotel room, the handle clicking softly as Rafe steps forward to push the door open. He enters first, his eyes scanning the room for a moment before pausing just inside the threshold. He’s holding the door open, his back to her, but he doesn’t move forward immediately. Y/N stays a step behind, and she tilts her head slightly, a mix of curiosity and hesitation in her posture.

“What?”

She asks quietly, her voice sounding smaller than she intends. She doesn’t know why she’s asking. Maybe it’s just the lingering unease she feels with the way he's paused, or maybe it’s just the awkwardness of being here with him.

Alone.

In a hotel room.

Rafe doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his eyes flick to her, briefly meeting her gaze, then turning to the room as if weighing how to explain this. Y/N, now more aware of the pause, steps forward and brushes past him to peer into the room, her eyes scanning the space. The moment her gaze lands on the large, neatly made bed in the center of the room, her stomach drops. She takes a slow step back, blinking.

One bed.

Of course.

Her mouth opens as she exhales a soft, surprised “Oh,” almost as if she’s disappointed in herself for not anticipating this. The reality of the situation sinks in quickly, the silent weight of the choice she’s facing now becoming apparent. She glances back at Rafe, her eyes narrowing slightly. He stands frozen for a second, looking at the bed, then at her and his expression shifts into something more neutral—calm, but there’s a flicker of something else beneath. His gaze lingers on her for a second too long, the tension thick in the air between them. Rafe, standing just behind her now, clears his throat and shrugs.

“There was meant to be two singles...”

His voice is more earnest than she expects, but the tension is still thick. His gaze flickers to the bed and back to her.

“Guess they messed up with the booking.”

“Right”

She mutters and rolls her eyes, feeling that old frustration bubbling up again. She hears him shift behind her, and the tone of his voice softens slightly.

“No, seriously, I booked two beds Y/N.” he pauses, then sighs. “They messed up. Besides... not like I’m used to dealing with rooms for more than one.”

His voice is quieter now, maybe even a little... sheepish?

Y/N’s shoulders stiffen, and she tries not to think too much about it. She shouldn’t be frustrated, not really. He did try. It wasn’t his fault, but- she just nods, not trusting herself to speak, her eyes still locked on the bed as the weight of the situation settles in. It feels too personal, too uncomfortable, but she forces herself to exhale and shake it off. She half-turns to face him, her voice a little sharper than she intends.

“Great... so, what now?”

Y/N takes a few steps further into the room, her eyes scanning the rest of the space. It’s huge, definitely bigger than anything she’s used to, with a bathroom off to the side that looks like it could fit a small army. She almost feels out of place in the luxury of it all. Her fingers brush the smooth edge of the desk, the furniture pristine, and she can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. As she moves toward the far side of the room, her gaze lands on the couch. It’s medium-sized, tucked neatly against the wall near the bed. Her eyes linger there for a moment. She hears Rafe step closer behind her, his heavy footsteps echoing slightly in the quiet room. He follows her gaze, then looks back at her.

“I’ll sleep on the couch”

He says, and Y/N pauses, slightly skeptical. She turns to face him, a little incredulous.

“What?”

Rafe’s hand rubs the back of his neck, his posture a little stiff. “I mean, it’s fine... you’re pregnant and I’d rather not—” He cuts himself off, realizing that the sentence sounds ridiculous.

“I’ll take the couch.”

She doesn’t want to seem ungrateful, but she can’t help but bristle at the idea. “It’s fine,” she starts, shrugging it off, “I can take the couch.”

Rafe’s expression tightens, his eyes narrowing slightly in disbelief. “No. You’re not sleeping on the couch.” His tone is firm but not unkind.

“We’re not doing that.”

Y/N opens her mouth to protest, but then she catches the look in his eyes. Something about the way he’s saying it, the way he stands there, not pushing but still resolute. She presses her lips together, swallowing her own stubbornness.

“Fine”

She mutters, walking toward the bed and sitting down on the edge. He gives her a half-smile, nodding. He pauses for a second, his gaze flickering over her, before he heads over to the couch, testing the cushions.

“I'm sorry abou-”

"-It's fine Rafe."

She shoots him a side-eye, still a little uneasy but also strangely grateful that he’s not making her sleep in the same bed. The night passed in an odd kind of quiet. Y/N had turned away from the sofa, curling into herself under the blanket, her back to Rafe. He, on the other hand, lay awake for a while, his eyes tracing the outline of her figure in the dim light, the soft rise and fall of her breathing making him feel strangely protective- though he wouldn’t admit it. Eventually, sleep claimed them both, though neither one of them seemed to rest all that peacefully.

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

Morning came slowly, the bright sunlight spilling through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room. Y/N woke first, rubbing her eyes before slipping out of bed quietly, trying not to disturb Rafe. He was still asleep on the couch, his body turned slightly, his arm thrown across his forehead. She grabbed a quick shower, dressed in the clothes she’d brought, and then made her way downstairs as he stirred from his sleep.

The small café downstairs was cozy, a little more upscale than the usual diner, but not so fancy it felt out of place. She and Rafe sat down at a table near the window. Y/N absently pushed her pancake around on the plate, the syrup drizzling down the soft stack of pancakes in front of her. Rafe had ordered eggs, bacon, and toast, and his plate was practically a mountain compared to her much smaller serving. Rafe looked at her plate,

“There was so much on that menu, and you got pancakes?”

Y/N shot him a small glare, her fork poking at her pancakes. “You’re one to talk. Look at your own plate.”

She rolled her eyes, the usual defiance in her tone. Rafe couldn’t help the small, amused grin that tugged at his lips. It was impossible to not appreciate her sass, even if it was often sharp-edged. He shook his head, stabbing into his food. They ate in silence for a few moments, the air between them comfortable. Y/N pushed a cut pancake around her plate, her mind clearly elsewhere.

“...When I was younger,” she started quietly, not looking up from her plate, “my dad used to make me and JJ pancakes for breakfast every Sunday.”

Rafe, who’d been about to take another bite, paused. He studied her for a moment, his gaze flicking from her to the food, but he didn’t say anything. Y/N continued, her voice softer now.

“He hasn’t done that for years.”

His eyes softened a little, the layers of tension between them briefly melting away as he processed her words. He didn’t know how to respond to her suddenly opening up, so he just stayed silent, watching her as she cut into her pancake. For a second, he wished he could ease her melancholy, the way her voice had faltered just a little when she’d spoken of her father. Y/N looked up at him then, catching the brief flicker of empathy in his eyes, before she quickly glanced back down at her plate, focusing on her food. Neither of them said anything for a while, and the quiet lingered between them. Rafe cleared his throat after a beat, as though considering whether to share what was on his mind. He looked down at his plate, pushing some bacon around before speaking again, his voice quieter now.

"My dad used to… uh…" He paused, as if trying to find the right words, "used to say that a growing man needs a filling breakfast, so ever since then, if I have breakfast, I have this."

He motioned vaguely to his plate of eggs and bacon. Y/N, in the middle of cutting up her pancakes, glanced up at him, her eyes taking him in, trying to process his words. It was strange to hear him speak so casually about his father- considering everything she knew from Sarah about the difficulty of their relationship. She hummed in acknowledgement, a simple gesture before she spoke up again, a question lingering on her tongue.

“Aren’t you bored of it?”

He didn’t answer right away, chewing a bite of his food, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Some things you don’t get bored of.”

Her fork paused midair, and for a second, she just studied him. She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of understanding before looking back down at her plate, cutting up another piece of pancake. But his eyes stayed on her, the weight of his gaze just enough to make her feel like he was reading her again. She didn’t look back at him, though- her mind was too busy running through the conversation, the way his words felt like an opening, even if just a crack.

Y/N sets down her fork, her plate now empty, and picked up the warm cup of tea in front of her, holding it between both hands. She takes a slow sip, letting the warmth spread through her as she looks out the window, her gaze distant. Rafe, still focused on his food, catches her pause out of the corner of his eye, sensing a change in her demeanor. He swallows a bite and glances at her, then back at his plate.

"How far away is the clinic?"

She asks quietly, her voice slightly less steady than usual. She’s trying to keep it calm, but there’s a subtle weight to her words, as though she’s still sorting through the emotions building up inside. Rafe chews for a moment before answering, his tone straightforward but gentle.

"It’s not far, maybe a 30-minute drive. Shouldn’t be too bad."

He doesn’t press her for a response, letting her take the lead in how much she wants to engage with him. She nods slowly, but her eyes remain unfocused, drifting out the nearby window as her thoughts spiral. She feels a tight knot forming in her stomach. The decision she’s made, the steps she’s about to take—they all feel heavier now, so much more real than ever before. The thought of the procedure is enough to make her feel a little sick, though she doesn’t want to admit it out loud. It’s all she’s been thinking about since they left the island, but now that they’re so close, it’s almost suffocating. Y/N’s fingers wrap more firmly around her cup as she stares out the window again, but there’s a slight unease in her posture now. After a moment of contemplation, she breaks the silence with a soft, almost tentative voice.

"Do I... do I have to give my name or...?"

Her voice trails off, unsure, as though she’s not even sure she wants to know the answer. Rafe, sensing her hesitation, quickly cuts her off, shaking his head. "No," he says, his tone firm but gentle.

"It's anonymous. You don't have to. They won't even know who you are."

Y/N's eyes flicker to him, and she exhales a quiet breath of relief. "Right," she mutters, her fingers tightening around the cup again.

The idea that it could be so impersonal, that no one would know her, seems to bring her some comfort, though she doesn’t show much outward emotion. The thought of keeping it all anonymous, of having no strings attached, gives her a strange sense of control over something that’s felt so out of her hands.

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

The hours leading up to the appointment felt like they were dragging, each minute stretching on, yet it was as if time was slipping by too fast at the same time. Y/N had spent most of the day trying not to think about what was coming, but now, as she stood outside the clinic, she couldn’t stop her mind from racing. Her heart was pounding, her stomach tied in knots, but she didn’t have the strength to back out now. Rafe walked ahead, pushing the door open for her, and she stepped inside, the sterile, clinical air hitting her as soon as she crossed the threshold. The waiting room was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made her skin prickle. It was empty, except for one woman in her mid-thirties, flipping through a magazine, and the receptionist sitting behind the desk, typing away. "Go sit down," Rafe murmured softly, his tone steady as he gestured to the row of empty chairs against the wall,

"I'll get the papers you need to fill in."

She didn’t have to be told twice. Her legs felt like jello, and she made her way to an empty seat, trying not to let her nerves show. The walls of the room were a bland gray, making everything feel dull and lifeless. The fluorescent lights above hummed quietly, and there was a small window in the ceiling letting in the dim light from the dark sky. Y/N's eyes drifted to the woman sitting across the room. The woman glanced up from her magazine and caught her gaze, offering a kind, understanding smile. Y/N hesitated for just a second but returned a small, tight-lipped smile in return. The woman nodded in acknowledgment before looking back down at her magazine and Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts. A moment later, Rafe returned, clipboard in hand, and sat beside her.

"Here"

He said, passing it to her with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. She nodded, taking the clipboard from him. She looked down at the forms, at the boxes she’d need to fill in, the questions that seemed to stare up at her, expecting answers. Her grip tightened around the pen as she brought it to the paper, but the tremble in her hand was almost impossible to ignore. She bit her lip and tried to steady herself, but it was no use. Her hand wouldn’t stop shaking, and she could feel the hot sting of tears threatening to fall, though she desperately fought to keep them in check. Rafe noticed immediately, his eyes narrowing with concern. He sat closer, his hand lightly resting on her hand for a moment before he gently took the clipboard from she had grasped in it.

"Let me do it," he said quietly, his voice soft but insistent.

"I’ll fill it in for you."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but the words got stuck in her throat. She muttered, feeling embarrassed, but she couldn’t seem to help it,

"But… you might not know..."

Rafe looked at her, his expression unwavering but gentle,"Then you tell me," he replied, his voice calm,

"and I’ll write it down alright?"

Y/N stared at him for a beat, her heart doing something strange in her chest, something like relief mixed with disbelief. She could feel the weight of his kindness, and for a moment, it almost made her want to cry more. But instead, she simply nodded, her throat tight.

"Okay"

She whispered, taking a steadying breath. She started telling him the details- any medical allergies, then other information like her date of birth- which he reassured wasn't necessary if she didn't want it there. Rafe wrote it all down, his handwriting neat and precise, his hand steady despite her trembling voice. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him directly, but the warmth of his presence beside her was oddly grounding, even though it didn't make her fear go away. The woman who had been reading the magazine had gone in, and the receptionist was somewhere out of sight, probably dealing with paperwork or something in the back.

It left just Rafe and Y/N sitting together in quiet.

Y/N sat forward slightly, her hands laid pressed under her thighs, her fingers digging into the chair. She couldn’t bring herself to look up. Her eyes stayed focused on her shoes, her mind racing, all the thoughts running in every direction. Rafe, stayed sitting beside her, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His jaw was tense, his brow furrowed slightly, and despite the calm exterior. Then, out of nowhere, Y/N broke the silence.

"Rafe, I’m scared."

Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it hit him hard. He was taken aback, not expecting her to admit it. He had seen her put up walls, but hearing her say those words made something tighten in his chest. He turned to her, trying to offer some kind of comfort, even if he wasn’t sure how to give it.

“Hey- it's okay...”

He said, his voice quiet but earnest. But she wasn’t reassured, her teeth caught her bottom lip, and she bounced her leg nervously, her eyes still downcast. Her voice cracked slightly, and she swallowed hard.

“What if something goes wrong, and—”

"Y/N—this is the best clinic in Charleston, alright? I promise."

Rafe shook his head in a reassuring gesture. Her eyes flickered up to him for a moment, but she quickly dropped her gaze again, her voice barely audible when she spoke again.

“I—but what if something happens?”

"Maybank" he said, his voice firm yet gentle, as if trying to anchor her in the moment.

“Nothing is going to happen, okay? You’re gonna go in there, they’ll do the procedure, it'll take 15 minutes and then you’ll be out. I’ll be right here waiting for you."

She let out a breath she’d been holding in, almost like a tiny surrender, but still, her hands were clenched under her thighs, her shoulders tense. Rafe could see her trying to hold it together, but the vulnerability in her eyes was there, clear and raw. Her hands moved then, resting on top of her thighs, and then, as if she couldn’t hold it in anymore, one hand came up to cover her mouth, the other rubbing her face in frustration. She mumbled,

“I’m so scared.”

The words hit him like a punch, torturous, he felt it deep down, the weight of her fear, and it gutted him in a way he didn’t expect. She was trusting him enough to let this fear out, and it made him feel an overwhelming pressure in his chest. For a moment, he hesitated. He didn’t know what to do, what would help her calm down. But then, without thinking, he reached out, his hand resting gently over hers, the one still resting on her thigh. Her eyes flickered down to where his hand met hers, and for just a second, their gazes met- her eyes searching his, full of uncertainty, and something else.

Something almost... vulnerable.

"I’m going to be waiting here for you the whole time," he said softly, his voice steady but carrying a quiet reassurance.

"I’m not going anywhere."

Y/N’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath as she processed his words, her bottom lip trembling slightly. Then, slowly, she moved her hand so it was now holding his, her fingers slipping between his as she squeezed gently. He felt her hand in his, felt her trust in that simple gesture, and his thumb instinctively began rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand. Neither of them said anything more. The silence between them wasn’t oppressive now; it felt almost comforting, as if the simple connection of their hands could steady them.

The quiet of the waiting room was broken by the soft click of a nearby door opening. An older woman in a crisp white doctor’s coat stepped out, glancing around the space before her eyes landed on Y/N. Her face softened immediately, smile warm and gentle as she called out,

“We’re ready for you now sweetheart.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, so subtle it could’ve been missed if Rafe wasn’t watching her so closely. She straightened a little, gathering herself. Her fingers slowly, reluctantly, slipped from his, and Rafe let her go, though his hand lingered in place for just a second longer like it didn’t want to lose the contact.

“You’ll be fine”

He said quietly, his voice steady. She nodded- small, but firm- and stood up. Rafe watched as she walked toward the woman, her steps light, almost unsure. The doctor opened the door beside her and stepped inside, holding it open behind her. Y/N followed, before she paused in the doorway.

She looked back.

Her eyes found Rafe's, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. He met her gaze from where he sat, arms still crossed over his chest, jaw tight, but his eyes—his eyes soft blue eyes watching her like he didn’t want her to go in there alone- like he wanted to be there right beside her, holding her hand.

And then the door closed behind her.

Rafe exhaled slowly through his nose, the weight of the silence hitting him all over again. He hadn’t even noticed how hard his heart was beating until now. His hand twitched once on his leg, like it still remembered the feeling of her fingers in his.

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

The room was quiet.

Still

Only the faint sound of a random film playing on the TV filled the silence- a movie neither of them was really watching. Y/N sat curled up on the bed, knees pulled tight to her chest, her arms looped around them as her eyes stayed fixed on the screen like it was holding her in place.

She hadn’t said a word since the procedure.

Not in the car.

Not during the walk back up to the room.

Not once.

Rafe sat on the couch for a while, watching her more than the movie, caught somewhere between giving her space and wanting to do something, anything, to make this less heavy. Eventually, he stood up, quiet steps carrying him to the small desk tucked in the corner of the hotel room. He picked up the room service menu lying there, flipping it open. He glanced over at her again—still quiet, still curled up, like if she moved too much, she might fall apart and he walked back over and perched on the edge of the bed, not too close, careful with her space. Gently, he set the menu down beside her.

“You should eat something,”

He said, voice low, her eyes dropped to the menu for a second, but she didn’t reach for it. Then she turned to look at him, but he was already watching her. She gave a small shake of her head, still not speaking. Rafe sighed, running a hand down his jaw, rough with tension. “Maybank…” he tried again, softer this time.

“You gotta eat.”

Nothing, she didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just stared ahead at the TV like she wasn’t really in the room at all. “Alright,” he muttered, half to himself, picking up the menu again.

“Let’s see…”

He started listing, casual but careful, “Mozzarella sticks... caesar salad... bbq wings... mac and cheese.... tomato soup with grilled cheese....? Sliders? Pasta? Uh- spaghetti with truffle and mushroom? No..? Alright, club sandwich... chicken tenders... fries…?”

Her head shifted slightly.

Just enough to catch his attention and make his eyes flick over, catching the way hers had finally lifted, just the tiniest bit of reaction. “Fries?” he asked, tone light but a little hopeful.

“You want fries?”

She didn’t speak, but after a beat, gave him the smallest nod. It wasn’t much, barely anything- but it was something to Rafe. That was enough to make a small, quiet smile tug at the corner of his lips. “Alright” he said softly, already reaching for the hotel phone to place the order, his eyes lingering on her just a second longer.

He crossed the room in a few slow strides, grabbing the hotel phone off the receiver with one hand while flipping open the room service menu with the other. His thumb hovered briefly over the order as he pressed the button for the front desk. When the soft voice of the receptionist answered, he ordered simply- just the fries, nothing else. His voice was steady, careful, like he didn’t want to disturb the fragile quiet that had settled over the room. As he hung up, the faint mechanical buzz of the line disconnecting filled the space for a second, then faded. The silence returned but this time, it was broken—softly,

“Thank you”

Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. Rafe blinked and turned around slowly, surprised. She hadn’t spoken since she’d walked out of the clinic, hadn’t looked at him much either. And now, her voice was small—tired in a way that made something twist in his chest. He offered a quiet nod.

“It’s fine.”

He didn’t say anything else, just turned to go back to the sofa where he’d been keeping his distance since they got back. He didn’t want to crowd her, not after he'd just managed to get her to ease open. But just as he reached the edge of the bed, her voice stopped him again “You, um…” she said, hesitating, chewing at her bottom lip.

“You can sit here- if you like...”

He looked over at her slowly. She was still curled up near the pillows, knees hugged to her chest, the hotel duvet tangled loosely around her legs. She wasn’t quite looking at him- her eyes were flickering toward the television instead- but her fingers were nervously fidgeting in her lap.

“You sure about that?”

He asked gently, his voice softer now, the usual sharpness dulled by caution. She nodded, the motion small but certain. “Yeah,” she murmured, her voice slightly more sure this time.

“I’m sure.”

He hesitated only a second more before moving- careful and quiet, almost like if he made too much noise the moment might break apart. He rounded the bed and eased himself down beside her on the opposite side, lowering slowly until his back rested against the padded headboard. He kept a respectful distance, just enough to give her space but not so far that she felt alone. The curtains were drawn tight, muffling the city beyond, and the quiet hum of the air conditioner blended with the low volume of the movie.

Y/N sat propped against the pillows now, the bowl of fries resting on her lap. She was picking at them slowly, not ravenous, just nibbling. The taste of them felt grounding, something familiar in all the strange quiet of the day. Beside her, Rafe sat with his arms crossed over his chest, head tipped back against the headboard, eyes half-lidded as he watched the television. His expression was unreadable- tired maybe, the pale light of the screen moved across his face, catching the curve of his jaw and the furrow between his brows.

She glanced at him for a moment, then looked down at the bowl in her hands. Without a word, she nudged it a little toward him- silent but clear in her offering. Rafe’s eyes slid down to the bowl, then back up to her. He gave a faint shake of his head.

“I’m good, Maybank.”

“Have some,”

She tilted her head slightly, not pressing, just… encouraging as she said quietly. He looked at her again, her face soft in the dim light. There was a gentleness in her voice that tugged at something in his chest.

“They’re really good,”

She added, as if that might tip the scales.

And it did.

Rafe gave a small, defeated nod and reached into the bowl, pulling out a fry. He took a bite, crunching into it—and he had to agree it was perfect. Crisp, golden, just the right amount of salt. He gave a quiet little amused breath through his nose, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small smile.

“That’s pretty damn good”

He admitted and Y/N let out a breath that was almost a laugh, her lips curving into a small smile- soft, genuine. It was the first real one all day. She spoke, nudging the bowl toward him again.

“Have another”

He didn’t argue this time. He reached in and grabbed another fry, and then another after that because it seemed to satisfy her- make her happy. She shifted a little, adjusting the bowl so it sat between them now, and in doing so, she edged closer to him—just enough that their arms were nearly brushing. The bowl sat empty now, discarded somewhere by their feet, but Y/N hadn’t moved. She was still tucked in beside him, her side pressed into his, arms brushing with every breath, every subtle shift. The silence was back—but it wasn’t the heavy kind from earlier. It was different now, calmer.

A little softer around the edges.

Rafe hadn’t shifted either. His arms were no longer crossed, his hands resting on his stomach now as he leaned against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. He could feel the warmth of her against him, not overwhelming—just there.

Solid.

Y/N's knees were still drawn up, but her shoulders had eased, the tension from earlier leaking out of her bit by bit. Her cheek was tilted slightly toward him, not quite resting, but close enough that if she leaned an inch more, she could. The TV kept playing, casting dull light across the room, neither of them really paying attention to it. Rafe shifted just slightly, glancing down at the point where their arms touched, then at her profile. The flicker of the screen light danced along her skin, catching on the curve of her cheek, the arch of her nose.

Rafe’s throat felt dry, like he hadn’t swallowed in hours. He blinked, but his gaze didn’t shift.

Not from her.

Not from the way the soft hotel light picked up on her lashes or the way the curve of her lips- soft and slightly parted- seemed impossibly delicate. Y/N sensed it, felt his eyes on her. She turned her head slightly, brows pulling together gently. She asked, her voice soft, barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“Hm?”

He blinked again, slower this time. She tilted her head, a small crease forming between her brows as she brought a hand up to swipe lightly across her cheek.

“Is there something on my face?”

Rafe’s eyes followed her hand, the slow sweep of her fingers against her skin. He shook his head quickly—too quickly maybe—and leaned back against the headboard again. “No,” he said, his voice low, the edge of it a little hoarse.

“No there isn’t.”

Her hand fell away as she looked at him. Really looked. The space between them felt warm, heavier somehow than it had a second ago. The TV was still going, but the sound barely reached them anymore. Her eyes stayed on his, searching his expression like she wasn’t sure what she was seeing there.

Neither of them looked away.

Her gaze dipped- just briefly- to his lips and then in return his eyes did the same, flickering down to hers. His tongue slipped over his bottom lip dampening it slightly and the moment stretched, thick with something unsaid, something almost fragile.

The moment shattered with the sharp buzz of her phone against the bedside table. Y/N blinked, her gaze finally dragging from Rafe’s- like coming up for air- and she turned toward the sound coming from the bed side table, phone screen lighting up the darkened corner of the room.

JJ

She stared at the name for a second too long, her stomach twisting. He didn’t know where she was, as far as JJ was concerned, she was in Charleston chasing a job offer. She picked it up, pressed the screen to answer, and forced her voice to be steady.

“Hey, Jay… everything okay?”

There was a pause on the other end, the background sound fuzzy like he was outside before his voice came through, rough but familiar.

“Uh… yeah- yeah. I’m cool. Just… wondering how your interview went.”

Her brows pulled slightly together in surprise.

“Oh. Uh—it was okay. Yeah. Went fine.”

There was a soft hum from him in response and then silence. She shifted on the bed turning away from Rafe who was now looking at her somewhat curiously, especially since he noticed the tension in her shoulders tightening. She asked, the edge of concern pushing through.

“You sure everything’s okay?”

“Yeah, I’m at the Chateau,” he answered, “It’s… chill here.”

“That’s good,” she said quietly.

There was another stretch of silence, a tense one to the point she could feel something sitting behind it. Then JJ cleared his throat.

“Y/N, I was just thinking… um-”

“What’s wrong?”

She asked quickly, her voice dipping softer as she could sense her distress. She could hear something different in his voice—like guilt “I’m sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper. “For not talking to you...” Her breath caught a little and she swallowed. Her grip on the phone tightened just slightly.

“I, uh- I got a job, that’s what I was calling to tell you. It’s, uh, at the fish and tackle shop.”

She froze and for a second, she didn’t even process what he said. she just stared down at the carpet of the room, lips parted then spoke out, “… are you being serious?”

“Yeah” There was another pause before he continued his voice coming out through through the small speaker of the phone,

“I’m sorry I’ve been slacking and you’ve had to carry the house by yourself. I’m… I’m trying to be better. For you.”

She stared at the wall, that ache behind her ribs swelling. A sad smile tugged at her lips as her eyes glistened. She blinked fast, the sting behind her eyes catching her off guard. She drew in a slow, quiet breath through her nose.

“I’m proud of you Jay”

“Thanks,” he said, quieter now and then he asked, “When are you coming home?”

She drew in a slow breath, “Tomorrow. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Okay…”

She glanced at the clock on the bedside table, its red digits glowing up to her, her voice lightening.

“You going to sleep soon or what? It’s pretty late.”

He let out a tired “mmhmm,” and then he said, almost too quietly, “I miss you.” She pursed her lips tight, holding in the rush of emotion building in her throat. “I miss you too.”

“Goodnight,” he mumbled out to her.

“Go to sleep”

“I will.”

“You better.”

He let out a low chuckle- small, but real- and she could almost envision his boyish grin in the dark. “See you tomorrow,” she said.

“See ya tomorrow, sis.”

The line went dead.

She lowered the phone slowly, staring at it in her lap. The silence of the hotel room returned, and with it came the dull, heavy pressure in her chest. That hollow feeling. That shame. Because even though she had smiled and said all the right things, one truth lingered loud in her head—

She’d lied to him- and she'd never done that, not as seriously as this.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as her fingers tightened slightly around the edges of her phone. The guilt crept in like a tide, slow but suffocating. JJ’s voice was still echoing in her ears—the softness in it, the hesitation- he was trying so hard. He had called just to tell her he’d gotten a job, just to let her know he was trying to be better for her.

And here she was.

Sitting in a hotel room far from home, sharing quiet and warmth with the one person her brother hated more than anyone else on the island. The one person who'd hated and tourmented them since they were kids. She glanced over at him, still silent on the other side of the bed. His gaze was fixed on the muted television, though she could tell he wasn’t really watching. There was a calmness to his posture now, a quiet presence that shouldn’t have felt safe- but somehow did.

And that made it worse.

Because the longer they sat here, the more she realized that her feelings for him were starting to shift. The edges of her anger had dulled, the lines had blurred. He had seen her at her lowest, and he hadn’t run, he hadn’t mocked her like he always had. He’d stayed- and that terrified her more than anything.

Because JJ could never know.

Not about why she was really in Charleston.

Not about Rafe.

And especially not about the way her heart was starting to beat differently when he looked at her.

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[cameronsbabydoll]

MY !READERS AND THEIR HOME LIVES + VISUALS

spoiled!kook!reader

childhood backdrop: grew up in a huge, echoing house on figure-eight with too many rooms and not enough warmth. there was always a fresh bouquet in the foyer, a chef making little gourmet lunches in the kitchen, and a driver who waited out front like clockwork. her mom was the queen bee of every country club committee — pinched smile, pearls, a little too much wine in the evenings. she entered reader in pageants before she could even walk, taught her to pose before she could talk. it wasn’t cruel, just curated — reader was a doll in a glass case, constantly being brushed and displayed.

relationship with parents: she’s a daddy’s girl in a complicated way — he was always gone, but when he came back, he showed up. gifts, attention, pet names like “pumpkin” and “sweetheart” that made her feel small in the best way. he never said no to her, but never really saw her either. her mom wasn’t unkind, just…distantly obsessed. she didn’t care if spoiled!kook!reader was happy — she cared if spoiled!kook!reader was perfect.

emotional core: she never really rebelled because she never had to — she always got what she wanted, even if what she wanted was a little love, disguised as another shiny bracelet. now, she chases attention like a prize ribbon and doesn’t know how to feel if someone isn’t watching.

house visuals:

babydoll!reader

childhood backdrop: soft little life. ruffled socks, glitter lip gloss, baby pink nightlights. her house always smelled like vanilla candles and fresh laundry. she was the kind of little girl who twirled her hair and talked to her dolls like they were real. she had a good relationship with her parents, but they were busy and just a little emotionally worn down. they loved her, but it was her grandparents who really saw her sparkle. grandma taught her how to bake, how to crochet. grandpa let her watch old movies on the couch while brushing her hair with big calloused hands.

relationship with parents: they tried their best, but they weren’t built for a girl like her. they didn’t always get her dreamy little mind or why she cried when her dress didn’t match her socks. still, they adored her in their own quiet way.

emotional core: she learned early that softness doesn’t always get attention — so she leans into sweetness, into being the baby, into saying “please” and “thank you” and smiling until someone notices. babydoll’s heart bruises easily, but she covers it in bows and perfume.

rebellion: lets men pick her up in convertibles wearing sundresses and no underwear

house visuals: her parents and then her grandparents

bunny!reader

childhood backdrop: raised in a very structured, religious home. modest dresses. early curfews. her dad is a preacher or deeply involved in the church — strict, charismatic, respected. her mom is obedient and kind, a homemaker who believes in order, peace, and tradition. bunny!reader was the golden child. always helping in the kitchen, leading sunday school singalongs, making her bed every morning. she never got to choose her path, it was chosen for her.

relationship with parents: her father’s love was conditional, and she learned to perform for it. her mother loved her, but never protected her. everything had to look perfect on the outside, so bunny!reader swallowed her shame and guilt whenever she wanted something bad. she loves them both, but she fears them more.

emotional core: bunny!reader is all buttoned-up longing. she hides the shaking in her hands with lace gloves. she blushes when boys look at her, but can’t help it when she looks back. she’s never allowed to want, which is exactly why she wants so much.

core wound: desire is a sin—so she hides hers behind pink cheeks and long skirts.

rebellion: one night she lets rafe call her a good girl with his hand between her thighs and doesn’t pray after.

house visuals:

bambi!reader

childhood backdrop: raised by a single dad who worked long hours in some blue-collar job—mechanic, foreman, maybe a park ranger. their house was small, quiet, and smelled like coffee and old books. he wasn’t the best at braiding hair, but he tried. always tried. her mom came and went — beautiful, elusive, like a hummingbird. she’d show up with candy and perfume and promises, then disappear just as quick.

relationship with parents: her dad is her rock. he taught her to ride a bike and scared away her first crush. he’s not perfect—he forgets things, gets tired, doesn’t always know how to handle her tears—but he’s there. her mom? a ghost with red lipstick. bambi wanted to be her and hated her all at once.

emotional core: she learned early that books don’t leave. she clings to fiction and fantasy, and sometimes to the wrong men. she wants to be held more than anything, but pretends she doesn’t care if she’s not. her sweetness is quiet, easily overlooked, and that makes her ache even more.

house visuals:

puppy!reader

childhood backdrop: big, loud, chaotic love. older brothers roughhousing in the living room, cartoons on full blast, crumbs from snacks she wasn’t supposed to eat on the couch cushions. she followed her brothers around like a baby duckling, getting into trouble and giggling the whole time. her house was a little messy, always warm, full of life. backyard BBQs, Christmas lights left up too long, popsicles in the freezer year-round.

relationship with parents: daddy’s girl to the max. he calls her “my little shadow” because she never leaves his side. her mom is loud and kind, the type to wipe dirt off her face with spit and a paper towel. they adore her. they spoil her. her brothers teased her mercilessly, but also beat up anyone who looked at her funny. she was everyone’s baby.

emotional core: she’s never had to earn love — which is beautiful, but also leaves her vulnerable. she doesn’t know what to do when someone isn’t as gentle as her family. she craves affection like air and clings to praise like a pup chasing a ball.

cherry!pie!reader

childhood backdrop: trailer park. broken screen doors, stale cigarette smoke, and the hum of a TV that never gets turned off. her dad left before she really knew him. her mom had a revolving door of boyfriends, each worse than the last. she kept her door locked at night. she learned early how to lie, how to flirt, how to distract.

relationship with parents: she hates her mom but also needs her. there’s a cruel dependency there. her mom taught her how to wear eyeliner and how to act “grown,” but not how to be safe. her dad is a phantom. she resents him for leaving, but still dreams about what it would’ve been like if he stayed.

emotional core: cherry!pie learned to seduce to survive. she associates love with chaos, attention with danger. she’s tough, but only because she had to be. under the sass and gloss, there’s a soft little girl who just wanted someone to take her home and mean it.

[littlelamy]

the one where he wants you again

s2!rafe x reader

rafe was pissed at himself. was he really that dumb to dump you so quickly? you were his bunny, his princess; if he asked you to jump, you would ask him how high. you were his. he didn't deserve you. but, God, he wanted you so badly. he needed you not only for your perfect body but because you did what others couldn't. he'd never tell himself that he loves you, but he does.

it was almost like an obsession. something about you that made him needy for you. something that made you a guilty pleasure for him. you are the only one who has ever made him think of a future. marriage, babies, anniversaries. all things that meant forever.

but rafe was scared. he was scared that one day you'll leave him. one day you'll listen to others and think his too crazy to be with. so he ended it before you could. now his sitting at this party after 10+ shots thinking of you while your smiling and giggling with a damn pogue right in front of his face.

you made it seem like you were okay but you were feeling just as sad as him. but you'd never say it. you want rafe to learn that there are consequences to actions. it took a lot for you not to jump into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck and kiss all over him, but rafe need a lesson. you are a gift, and he needs to treat you as such.

"y/n you there," pope says snapping his fingers in you face. "are you still thinking about rafe." yes. "if you want him so bad just tell him, maybe he'll change." no, you don't know rafe. you say to yourself.

"he's special to me, pope," you groan, annoyed at how bad you want him. "i can't just jump in his lap and play house with him. he hurt me, pope," you say feeling those familiar eyes watching you. "but, God, he looks so good," you complain looking at rafe out of the side of your eyes.

rafe couldn't take it anymore. he needed his bunny back. "pogue leave," rafe says sneaking up behind you and staring daggers at pope. "kook business so go," rafe rudely commands.

"rafe, stop being disrespectful," you turn around angrily. "his name is pope, and if you need to speak to me, you ask me nicely and take me aside. but you will not disrespect my friend." you say, turning back to pope, who is shocked. "i'm sorry, pope, I'll see you tomorrow at john b's party."

"it's fine, y/n, I'll see you tomorrow," pope says, still shaken up, walking away. you turn back around to an embarrassed rafe, as you gaze upon him his cockiness returns.

"so just because i dumped you doesn't mean, you come to this party looking like that," rafe gestures to your tight, short white dress looking like heaven on earth. "i told you that you can only wear that when you come to parties with me."

"um let me get this straight," you start. "you dumped me two days rafe, two days before my birthday, with some dumb excuse that ward didn't want you to be with me," you say, getting angry all over again. "then i see ward at the country club saying that he loved that rafe decide to date me because i make rafe a better person. so if i want to dress slutty, i can and you cant do any thing about it."

before you storm off, rafe gently grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. rafe was not going to let you leave this time. "don't do it, bunny," rafe whispers in you ear. "i messed up, baby. and i miss you. please don't do this," rafe pleads with his cool minty breath blowing in your ear. "please, princess, please." he's doing it again the begging thing that you love. everything felt so intense.

you fed up with the neediness pull rafe in by his neck and give him a quick but passionate peck on the lips. "rafe, you have to promise me, that you will try to do better," you order him, caressing the back of his neck. "i love you but you can't keep pushing me away," you say looking into his blue eyes.

rafe needs you. rafe wants you and only you. rafe gently nods his head, leaning down to give you another peck on the lips, mumbling an 'i love you.'

"come on, baby, let's go back to tannyhill and take a bath," you say to a love-struck rafe. "then we can talk more tomorrow, okay?" you finish.

"yes, princess, whatever you want," rafe agrees, pulling your hand out of topper's house. even though he messed up, you can't possibly give up on him.

[princessbrunette]

random combination, but pogue!bunny!reader and dbf!john b. her father doesn’t talk to her anymore since becoming a stripper, but her dads best friend john b likes to make sure she’s all cared for. financially, sure — he’ll buy her lunch from time to time. emotionally, definitely. someone needs to hold that girl. sexually? of course. who else is gonna make that sweet girl feel good? what if no one satisfies her and she resorts to sleeping with those scary men from the club? not on john b’s watch.

however, he felt like a creep everytime it happened. it was like clockwork, your sweet figure on the porch of the chateau at a ridiculous hour with your stripper heels in your hand and a duffle bag full of money.

“look you cannot keep just… walking around at night with this much money on you, jesus.” he pants, already exasperated as he pulls you inside, looking around to check you weren’t followed. your shoulders are deflated and your face is all pouty and tired, so he drops it — but makes a mental note to bring it up again later.

“just needed you.” your voice cracks and suddenly his brows are furrowed, lines of age and wear that he’s had for years deepening on his forehead as he whips his head around to you after locking the door for the night. “hey? heyheyheyhey. c’mere, sweetheart.” he’s immediately pulling you to his warm chest, rocking you on the spot as you instantly melt against him, the thud of your money bag dropping beside your feet along with your discarded heels. he nods to himself, walking you to his bedroom. “i know. iiiii know what you need, come on bubba.”

the cap that was on his head sits on the edge of the bed now, about to tip onto the floor as he allows you to run your long manicured fingernails over his scalp— gasping and mewling wetly at the ceiling as he sucks on your clit, thick fingers burrowed in your glossy hole. “mhm, mhm…” he responds to your moans, voice deep and raspy.

you squirm, barely able to form a sentence but pull it together enough to squeak out a “s’too — s’too much your beard ‘s makin’ me all sore jom’bee!” through tears of overstimulation and pleasurable pain. he responds to this by pushing your thighs up and more open with his hands, uncharacteristically cruel. he always got a little mean when you were close.

“you’re okay pretty baby. god, who made you this wet hm? you weren’t dancing at the club like this, right?” his voice is breathy and a little insecure for a man of his age but you don’t pick up on it. you don’t even seem to really pick up on anything really — including how he can’t seem to connect with girls his own age, spending all his time and affections on his friends daughter. he likes that about you. you don’t see him as pathetic as he feels sometimes.

“mm—mm, jus’ for you— s’pussies all wet just for you!” you pant, feeling yourself get closer. that satisfies him for now, nodding to himself all serious before glancing up at you in concentration, curling his fingers.

“okay. good girl. it’s okay, you can cum for dad.”

it was always the nickname that made him feel the sickest. yet it was the nickname that got him the hardest, and made you cum the loudest— so oh well.

[2tarbell]

KOOK!READER and BSF!RAFE who enjoy getting high together, either by a joint or using her pink girly bong (that she takes pictures of him using and says she’s gonna blackmail him. rafe doesn’t laugh at that). she only ever smokes with rafe, what he has. and they’re laughing… usually; lingering touches seeming even longer and eyes darting over each others faces. taking in four red eyes and two dazed smiles.

but sometimes it’s almost completely silent. any outsider would think they’re mad at each other but it’s actually quiet admiration. studying each other so intensely and longingly that eventually they do start heating up. she mumbles snide remarks about that one bartender that was ogling him the other day — and rafe smirks. he finds it funny.

kook!reader is only pissed off more and begins spinning tales of encounters blown up and out of proportion, all to irritate rafe. she bounces around from kook to kook, but know she’s hit a nerve when his eye twitches at the mention of escapades with a certain blond pogue — maybank. she’ll be damned if rafe doesn’t get a taste of his own medicine.

now, there’s a certain power play involved in their fucked up relationship. and with this blatant disrespect and gall to even joke about jj, rafe was seething. she was his best friend. she was his to fuck. his, his, his. so he’s wrapping a hand around her throat and tugging her towards him roughly, leaving her to scramble forward into his lap. rafe’s eyes were stone and she felt a chill looking into them, maybe that had something to do with the sudden dampness and warmth in her VS thong. the joint fallen out of her hand and onto the floor beside them.

“you—” a incredulous scoff falls from his lips, “—you gotta learn when to shut the fuck up, yeah? this loud mouth s’gonna getchu in some reeeeal trouble, baby.”

shaking her back and forth with his grip on her neck, the pressure just enough to send her eyes fluttering. rafe tuts and snakes a hand down her torso into her yoga pants. the arousal clinging to her puffy folds makes him let out a hum of amusement. rafe swirls his fingers aimlessly, not caring if he’s actually hitting her most sensitive spot — just feeling what’s his. the bumping of his fingertips every other figure eight against her swollen clit creates a repeating whine in her throat. the sound starts low and vibrates through her nose.

“nnngh— ra— ahfe—“

that broken whimper of his name is electrifying. it’s all so pitiful and embarrassing and rafe’s favorite version of her.

the slick sound turns into a squelch as he dips two fingers into her awaiting hole. she’s high and the pleasure feels like it’s increased tenfold with each second his digits disappear into her. she all but melts, sinking down until he’s knuckle deep. rafe grins at the already fucked out look on her pretty face. what a dumb girl. kook!reader snaps open her eyes when she realizes he isn’t immediately curling his fingers like he always does. her furrow brow meets his shit eating smirk, a whine being revved up but silenced by his words and the rough way he shoves down the clothes restricting her bottom half.

“nah — y’gonna bounce on these fuckin’ fingers till i say stop, a’ight? and— and why don’tchu tell me more about maybank while you’re at it. go on, bunny. hop.”