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#rafe ౨ৎ
rafeysdoll · 2 days
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vampy definitely is wearing superrrr high platform shoes (cutesy demonias) and is complaining to rafe abt her feet
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“rafe,” you whine for what feels like the millionth time, arm wrapped tightly in his own as you practically stumble alongside him. “my feet hurt,” you complain, fighting the urge to bite rafe on his shoulder. “feels like… i’m carrying 500 pounds on my feet.” you continue, settling on rubbing your cheek against his polo.
“hey, you gonna leave makeup stains baby, up up up. c’mon.” rafe warns, peeling your head off slowly. “i told you there would be a lot of walking, you remember that?”
you sigh, looking down at the platforms that are causing such pain. “mm.. no.. no i don’t remember,” you deny, whispering softly. “yeah, sure.” rafe tsks, hand placed on your lower back as he continues walking.
“rafe stop walking so fast!” you cry, barely able to keep up — rafe rolling his eyes. “hurry up, get on my back i’m not doing this today.” he mumbles, kneeling down near a wall to help you.
“yay!!” you squeal, jumping on his back.
the next time you try to wear heels somewhere rafe always makes sure to bring back up shoes.
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moremaybank · 5 months
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NAUGHTY OR NICE ! ౨ৎ
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merry (early) christmas, my loves! as some of you already know, i'm doing a holiday event this year inspired by my christmas playlist! feel free to send in some asks from the activities below! i'm planning on posting the holiday-related fics (both smut and fluff) starting december 18th, as to ensure that i've completed all of my four thousand celebration works before then! so send in whatever festive asks and prompts you'd like, even if they aren't included in the prompt lists down below. i love you all and i'm so excited to see what y'all send in!
writing for jj maybank, rafe cameron, sarah cameron, steve harrington, eddie munson, klaus mikaelson, kol mikaelson, rebekah mikaelson, & kai parker
OPEN TO ANYONE ! ASKS OPEN !
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NOW PLAYING...
🎧 CHRISTMAS EVE ⋆ Justin Bieber
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NEXT IN QUEUE...
🎁 ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU ⋆ Mariah Carey
send me a holiday fluff request! prompts
🌟 A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS ⋆ Sabrina Carpenter
send me a holiday smut request! prompts
❄️ WINTER THINGS ⋆ Ariana Grande
winter ask games! send me a winter themed ask either from this list or one you come up with your own!
🎄 CHRISTMAS TREE FARM ⋆ Taylor Swift
recommend a christmas song that i should add to my playlist!
🧣 UNDERNEATH THE TREE ⋆ Kelly Clarkson
let’s talk christmas movies! send me one and i’ll rate it from 1-10 and give my ‘lil two cents on it!
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BONUS TRACK !
☃️ LAST CHRISTMAS ⋆ Wham!
tell me some things that are on your christmas wish list this year, or about plans you have for winter break! inspire me to go out and have a life this christmas season 🤍
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tagging some mutual loves: @slut4drudy @drewstarkeysbae @rafesthroatbaby @rafesveryrealgf @rafesmuse @jjsbank444 @jjmaybanksgun @jjmaybankisbae @rafetopia @amournoir @perseephoneee @moon-in-nostalgia @ghostlyfleur @tinyluvs @venuslore @cal-flakes @emmalandry @rafeysbafey @cantstoptheimagines @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @slvttyfied @surftrips @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rafescokewhore @lyndys @glen-powells @eventualoptimism @rafestar @mvybanks @sweetestdesire @pankowperfection @pankowcreampie @forevermoreharrington @urbestieboo @lizcameron @messylustt @iheartcass @blueicequeen19
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officiallykori · 2 months
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Dating Rafe Cameron !! ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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imagine dating rafe chatters I would diee
xo Kori ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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Moodbaords !!
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luversgirl · 4 months
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i wanna smoke with rafe so bad. like i can just imagine it…. sitting on his lap as you both pass the shriveling joint back and forth, his hand wrapped around your neck like a collar as he shotguns the smoke from every other puff.
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prettyg1irlstears · 13 days
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i luvvv ur rafe x pillow princess reader so muchh i wanna kiss ur brain !! totally not self projecting 🤗
haha thank youu means so much to me!!💗💗💗
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sarecameron · 4 months
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you have a really hot brother btw @urfavcameron
of course i do 😒
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erwinsvow · 3 months
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𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥
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summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.
author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!
now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)
word count: 13.5k
warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!
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“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.  
You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.
And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.
“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”
“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek. 
“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.
“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”
The way he says it, you almost believe him.
“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.
And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.
But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.
If only you knew. 
Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears. 
౨ৎ
“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family. 
“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”
“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink. 
“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.” 
“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”
“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches. 
“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.
You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.
When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket. 
You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.
He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.
“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.
“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.
“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”
“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”
“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?” 
“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”
“Oh yeah, international law, right?”
“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”
“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control. 
“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”
“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back. 
“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why. 
“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.
“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.
“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.
“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”
“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.
“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with. 
“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back. 
“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.
“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away. 
“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”
“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.
“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking. 
“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.
“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.
“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”
“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.
“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.
“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”
“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.
“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.
You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features. 
“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.
“Yeah, me either, kid.”
“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.
“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”
“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”
“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 
“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.
“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.
“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.
“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.
“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”
“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.
“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”
“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.
“Not yet, you’re not.” 
“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”
“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”
“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought. 
“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act. 
He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.
The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.
But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.
He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning. 
“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting. 
“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him. 
“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”
You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.
“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.
Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.
Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house. 
“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body. 
“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off. 
“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.
“Nothing.” 
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay. 
“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you. 
“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”
You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.
౨ৎ
You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.
The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now. 
You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore. 
It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.
That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.
You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now. 
You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them. 
Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much. 
This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.
“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.
You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.
“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes. 
Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.
And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it. 
But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t. 
And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life. 
You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same. 
You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone. 
There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.
So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!
In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet. 
You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it. 
Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.
“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding. 
“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.
“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled. 
“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”
“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.” 
You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured. 
“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”
“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”
“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.
“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”
You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again. 
“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough. 
“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.
“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.
“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.
“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him. 
“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.
“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.
“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”
“I-I…I just-”
“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand. 
“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.
“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 
“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister. 
“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.
“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?” 
“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy. 
“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?” 
“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.
“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?” 
You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you. 
“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.
A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.
“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.
“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”
“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily 
“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”
“My sister’s always got boy problems.”
“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”
“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”
You laugh while Wheezie frowns.
“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”
“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you. 
“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.
“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.
She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second. 
“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”
“Yeah.” 
Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.
“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door. 
“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”
“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.
“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”
“Huh?” he questions.
“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.
“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”
“She.”
“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”
“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”
“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”
That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened. 
౨ৎ
The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera. 
The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away. 
R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?
that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.
R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?
so she deserves death????
R: The impound lot at the very least
if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it
R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are
did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?
R: No.
R: Ur fault. You gave her yours
you gave her yours too
and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault
R: She’s five, genius
R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid
౨ৎ
Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count. 
And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation. 
But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.
But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers. 
You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.
You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth. 
You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done. 
“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on. 
You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.
Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.
You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.
The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there. 
You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.
You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.
“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs. 
“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”
“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”
“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”
“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.
You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.
“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them. 
“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her. 
“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around. 
“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again. 
“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.
“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”
“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”
“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.
R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house
R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you
“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.
“What’s inside? I thought-”
“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”
“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”
“Y-yeah?”
“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.
“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”
You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you. 
Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic. 
“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.
“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple. 
“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist. 
“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.
You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about. 
You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are. 
You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.
“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out. 
You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.
Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.
And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.
At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.
“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.
“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”
“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup. 
“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?” “Why?” it comes out a whisper.
“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?” 
The way he says it you believe him. 
You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want. 
You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.
“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?” 
His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this. 
“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.
He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you. 
It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck. 
He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone. 
Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.
Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way. 
౨ৎ
A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.
It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get
along,  but they look like they’re fine now.
“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.
“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”
“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”
“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly. 
“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.
“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months
ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.
“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”
You guess that God was on your side today. 
R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?
sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn
R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?
you know me so well
R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.
You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.
Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.
You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.
The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.
“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”
“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.
A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.
“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel. 
“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”
“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”
“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”
“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”
“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.
“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.
“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”
“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”
“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.
“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.
“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”
“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”
“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”
“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire. 
“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?” 
“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.
“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?” 
“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”
“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”
“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race. 
“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”
“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.” 
And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron. 
“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away. 
“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”
The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence. 
“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.” 
You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.
౨ৎ
Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath. 
Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you
Princess: please rafey
“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.
“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.
“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.
“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-” “Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”
“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”
“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”
“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.
“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.
“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside. 
He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees. 
“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”
Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.
“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”
Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered. 
“Make you forget?” he questions. 
“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been. 
There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.
“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.
“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.
His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.
You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.
“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”
You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all. 
“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin. 
“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.
“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.
“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.
His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it. 
“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down. 
“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”
You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.
Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.
The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.
His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.
His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.
You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once. 
You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it. 
His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again. 
You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed. 
Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.
Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to
touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.
“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”
“I tried, daddy, I did-”
“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”
“No, I did, I swear-”
“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.
“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.
“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed. 
“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.
“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”
You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted. 
He looks up again. 
“You ready, kid?” 
“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.
You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him. 
“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.
“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”
“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.
“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.
“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set. 
You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.
He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again. 
You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.
“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”
And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.
“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.
A few minutes pass by.
“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.
Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.
“Feel better, kid?” 
“So much better, Rafey.” 
You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.
JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?
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1K notes · View notes
princessbrunette · 2 months
Note
feel like bunny!reader would get so deep in subspace cause rafe was gone all day that she is BEGGING HIM to put the pink bunny tail plug in and he’s just like 😟😟
౨ৎ🐰 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ
rafe is instantly on edge when he arrives home and hears you sniffling.
he had been handling business all day, going from investor to investor, meeting to meeting. he didn’t like that he had to leave you alone, and not because you missed having eachother around, no — he was a grown man, he could handle that. he didn’t like not being around incase something happened to you. he’d get so paranoid that sometimes he’d even send topper, or someone of the same genre to check on you, make sure everything was okay at tannyhill.
the sound of you sniffling sadly made alarm bells ring in his head, and he set down his briefcase of money and pushed his way into your bedroom— nearly jumping when you ran straight into him in the doorway, manicured nails struggling to keep ahold on his shirt.
“hey, talk. why are you crying?” he pulls you back urgently, needing to get to the nitty gritty of the problem so that he could fix it as fast as possible. if someone had made you cry, he would be out that door in a moments notice.
“couldn’t— couldn’t do it!” you warble, now pressing your wet cheek to his chest for comfort. he peels you away, hands on your shoulders as he frowns.
“do what? i need details here, kid— m’not a mind reader.”
you let out another cry and force yourself to stand back, pointing pathetically towards the bed. on his sheets lays your buttplug, the pink fluffy tail of it a lonesome puff on the large sleeping space with the metal end lubed up, sat alone. “want it in.” when you speak next, your voice rasps brokenly, projecting you no more above a whisper. his shoulders relax as he exhales, the slight panic of seeing you so upset leaving him.
“you know you really scared me, dumbass. get on the bed. on your belly.” he flicks his arm out in a point before pinching at his nose bridge, letting you scramble to lay on your front with your dress flipped up. he lazily drops onto one knee on the mattress, your body bouncing slightly with his weight and he yanks your dress higher. “you couldn’t get it in? that’s the problem?” he lifts the plug, inspecting it before pulling your ass cheek apart, tapping your thigh. “c’mon, open these.” he adds in a murmur and you oblige, still sniffling as you spread your legs on request.
“s’too hard.” you continue to cry, frustrated with your attempts.
“okay, okay. relax, yeah? you—you got me now, daddies here.” you feel the cool plug press to your puckered hole and you squirm with a mewl, not expecting it. “relax, i said.” he presses a spare hand to your lower back and you do, but you cry all the same.
as soon as he pushes it in, you go limp— letting out a sleepy hum as he makes sure it’s in properly. “there. jesus, all that fuss for what, huh?”
you sniff, pushing up shakily onto your hands as you try and help yourself up. “just needed—”
“just needed daddy to get you right, yeah i know. do everything around here, don’t i?” you hear his tone lighten up just a tad, pulling your elbow so you wind up on his chest, head resting beneath his chin. he doesn’t say anything for a bit, just lets your breathing regulate.
“gotta stop scaring me like that, alright? when you cry i—i don’t know what to think.”
“sorry, just can’t think properly when i miss you.” you slur, rubbing your cheek against him as if collecting his warmth.
“mm,” he hums and the rumble is deep against your ear. “thats that fuckin’ bunny brain right there. right?” he taps the side of your head with the back of his knuckle like he’s knocking and you nod. “lucky i do all the thinking for the two of us so shit always works out.”
౨ৎ🐰 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ
1K notes · View notes
rafeslutsblog · 4 months
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ CONTENT ⊹ 18+, rafe x brattyfem!reader, silent treatment, smut (on his boat), p in v, creampie, degrading — m.list
slightly inspired by this tiktok edit of him saying “don’t shake your head”
first fic im sorry this sucks ૮₍ ˃̵͈᷄ . ˂̵͈᷅ ₎აㅤ
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Once again, you’re giving your boyfriend the silent treatment. You’ve lost count on how many times you have done this. You can’t help it, he has a habit of getting on your nerves whenever you’re having a bad day. Even when he tries to make amends by taking you out on his boat, your frustration doesn’t go away.
You were sitting in the cockpit while he opened another water. “Seriously? Keeping your mouth shut?” His tongue flicked out, touching the corner of his mouth, and his eyes met yours. You inhaled and a heavy sigh escaped your lips. “I’m just tired today.”
“And so you ignore me?” He replied in a slightly irritated tone. “You know how much I hate when you do this.”
He glared at you, his eyes narrowing as they roved over you. Despite the bright sun shining down on the two of you, the only thing you could really feel was his gaze. "Come on," he spoke, his voice sharp and impatient. "Say something. I'm done with your bullshit."
You shaked your head, “Don’t shake your head at me.” His jaw clenched and the way he tilted his head, gave away how tensed up he was too. Before you can begin to respond, he’s already sitting beside you with his hands at the nape of your neck turning your head to face him, “If you don’t start talking, then I’ll make you.” He said sternly.
The waves are quiet and calm. You bite your lip slightly, “Christ,” he muttered under his breath. You feel his hands go and spread your thighs apart easily. “Rafe-“ You began but he shoved two fingers in your mouth to the back of your throat. His warm breath fanning your face as spit pooled from your mouth.
“Oh so now you want to talk?” His sneered mockingly at you as you stared at his piercing blue eyes, “No, I don’t think so.” Your eyes watered as you gagged on his fingers, face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. You tried to pull away, but this only leaded to him shoving his fingers deeper and deeper into your throat.
He grabbed a fistful of your shorts, yanking them down to your knees. With one swift move, he slid his hand to your crotch, cupping your wet pussy through your panties. "Fucking knew it, already so wet for me?"
You try to speak but get cut off, “I'm sorry, what was that?" He asked, his voice cold and harsh. His fingers kept working their magic inside your mouth, teasing and tormenting your sensitive flesh. You tried to speak again, but all that came out was a muffled sound. Your heart pounded inside your chest from the arousal you were beginning to feel. Even his presence alone was enough to make your breath quicken.
You could never resist rafes touch, and he knew that.
As your heart raced, rafe finally pulled his fingers from your mouth, leaving it feeling cold and empty. He quickly moved his hand downward pushing your underwear aside, rubbing his slick fingers against your swollen clit and into your wet pussy.
The corner of his lips curled up a little. You squirmed in pleasure as his finger entered you, pushing deeper and probing your wet folds. A soft moan escaped your lips, muffled by the sound of his fingers rubbing against your swollen clit.
"There we go,” rafe said, his voice husky with desire. "You're so fucking tight around my fingers. Let me hear you moan." And with that, he thrust his finger deeper inside you, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips. “Oh, God," you moaned, your head spinning with pleasure.
Rafe groaned as you clutched his wrist, your nails digging lightly into his skin. Your body arched into his touch, craving more. "Oh fuck," you gasped, feeling his fingers penetrate you even further. He let out a small laugh under his breath, “You like having your pussy stuffed with my fingers, don't you?" You moaned in response, not being able to form words.
He flexed his jaw, eyes flickering between yours and your lips. Subconsciously you licked your own, he stirred beside you and took out his fingers. He grabbed both your knees and laid you back on the soft cushion.
Looking down at you, he cupped the side of your face roughly. His other hand moved between your legs, spreading them apart once more. "You're so fucking beautiful," he breathed, “You look even better with my cock in you too.” He tapped the side of your face with his hand.
The anticipation was killing you as he stared deeply into your eyes, his hands roaming over your body possessively.
Your eyes darted as he started removing his pants. “Rafe, I’m sorry. I won’t ignore you again-but people might see," you managed to stutter out between breaths. "I don’t give a shit," he interrupted, his eyes darkening with lust. With that, he continued to unbuckle himself, his cock already hard and throbbing against his pants.
You gasped as he finally pushed inside of you, filling you up completely. He always stretched you past your limit. His hips almost immediately slammed against yours in a rhythm that made you moan out loud.
“Bought you clothes, brought you out here on this boat, got you lunch,” He groaned, pounding into you. “And you had to give me the silent treatment, huh?” He growled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hips driving relentlessly into yours.
You moaned loudly, your body shaking under his as you gave in to the pleasure he was giving you. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have done that," you panted, your head rolling back more.
His eyes flashed with satisfaction as you apologized, your voice barely audible over the sound of your moans. “You’re sorry?” His fingers dig into her hips as he thrusts deeper into her, “But you’re always sorry isn’t that right? Fucking slut-“
His thrusts grew harder and more relentless as he took you on the boat's cockpit. You cried out his name in a mix of pleasure and pain, your body arching into him. "I'm really sorry, I was just-.." Your words trail off to a moan and you clung onto him, wrapping your hands around his biceps.
His pace picked up, and he started slamming into you with unrestrained force. You moaned loudly, practically screaming. Your walls clenching around him as he pounded into you.
You couldn’t be more thankful that no other boats were around. You wouldn’t know what to do if someone (or people) happened to see you getting dicked down by rafe cameron. Maybe at that point you wouldn’t care.
The pleasure was almost unbearable, and you were barely holding on. His hips pistoned against yours, driving his cock deeper into your core.
His hips stilled suddenly, causing you to gasp around his cock. He stared down at you, his eyes burning into yours. "Why did you stop?" you asked, surprise evident in your voice. His curtain bangs shifted onto his face as he’s panting.
"Oh, you want me to keep going?" He mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The grin on his face was wicked as he stared down at her. You feel yourself getting embarrassed, “Keep going..” you murmured.
"Can't hear you, use your words f’me.” He repeated.
Then, he punctuated his words with a hard thrust that buried his cock deep inside you once more before stopping again. You moaned and called out his name as he pushed deeper into you. You felt every inch of his length inside you, and you wanted more. "Please, keep going, rafe," you pleaded, arching your back in an invitation for him to take you even deeper.
“Keep begging," he whispered hoarsely, his eyes locked onto yours as he fought against the urge to lose control and just fuck you senseless right then and there.
“Please fuck me," you moaned, spreading your legs wider for him. Your body is aching for his touch, and your swollen pussy is ready to take him as deep as possible. "Fuck me, rafe," you lightly groan out, your voice trembling with desire. He always knows how to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.
That was all it took. His thrusts became harder and faster, his hips slapping against yours in a rhythm that matched the pounding of his heart. His body moving him forward as his elbows found purchase on either sides of your head, pinning you beneath him.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the cockpit as rafe fucked you harder, his hips pounding into yours. Your moans and gasps filled the air, intertwining with his rough breathing as he took you to the edge.
He chuckles, watching your fucked out face and as your cunt parts and flares around him, fluttering walls hugging his huge cock. “Such a bratty little whore f’me.” He grunted, his voice thick with lust and satisfaction. “Fuck, yeah.”
You feel him pulsing inside you, you moan and beg for more, not wanting this pleasure to ever end. "More…" You whimpered, "Give me more."
Hearing your plea, rafes eyes glazed all over your face and body. His thrusts intensify further, his body practically shuddering with the effort to give you what you crave.
“See? Now you’re finally using that pretty mouth of yours." His voice raw with desire. “A little slutty pussy like this needs to be throughly fucked every day.” He laughed pounding into you, he reached down and began to rub your clit in rapid circles. The sensation is overwhelming, sending shockwaves of pleasure rolling throughout your body.
“Rafe, oh god, I'm so close…!” You moaned, your head thrown back in ecstasy as he continues to thrust and rub. Feeling the intensity of your response, rafe moaned in approval. He circled your clit faster and harder, drawing out cries of pure bliss from your lips.
"Almost there," he muttered through gritted teeth. His hips keep slamming into yours, causing sparks of pleasure to shoot through your entire body. "So fucking close," he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire.
Your moans grow louder, echoing on the boat as you feel the impending climax. "I'm cumming! Oh god, don't stop!" Each word is punctuated by a sharp intake of breath and a quivering sensation throughout your body. Your pussy gripped tightly around him, pulling him down into you, milking his cock with every thrust. Your legs tremble and your body shivers, wracked with pleasure as your orgasm crashes over you. "Fuck, I’m cumming!”
Once you cum, rafes eyes rolled to the back of his head, a mix of lust and satisfaction etched on his face. With a low groan, he releases his seed into you, filling you up with his thick, hot cum. "Shit.." he drags out the word, his body trembling.
You lay there, your chest heaving as you catch your breath after the intense orgasm. You're twitching and aching all over, both from the pleasure you've just experienced and the fullness of your boyfriend still inside of you.
His pace slows down, his thrusts growing shallower, softer, as he catches his breath and began to come back down from the high.
“Mm..rafe,” you groaned softly, barely above a whisper. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him down closer to you.
He gazed down at you with loving eyes, his hair falling onto his face as he leaned in to kiss you. "That’s what happens when you ignore me," he murmured, a charming smile playing on his lips. His fingers run through your hair, pushing it back gently before he captures your lips in a kiss again.
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rafeysdoll · 11 hours
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oh my gosh. what if vampy!reader wanted to go on like a late night walk and take rafe with her and like it’s kinda creepy but it’s her vibe and rafe is the scared one!! so cute i think!
~ 🧸
omg sorry i feel like i havent posted in forever kinda going through a writing stump :( hehe he wasn’t like super scared ?? hope u like it still tho!! sorry it’s a short one >.< kinda inspired by the fact i saw bats last night
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“come onnn, don’t be scaredy cat.” you press, already slipping into your thick platforms — rafe tucking in his gun at his waistband secretly. “i’m not— i’m not some bitch. and take those off. it’s dangerous.”
“how is it dangerous?” you giggle, taking a look at yourself in the mirror and fixing your hair. “you can’t run in them,” he continues, already scavenging in your closet in hopes he’ll find a pair of sneakers in the clash of heels. but alas, the only pair he seems to find is a pair of old converse covered in doodles and drawings. “here, look.”
“i don’t even think those fit me anymore, my love. i promise im fine, i can run in these!” you assure, taking his hand in yours. “can we please go now? i wanna show you something.”
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
“so.. so why do you like doing this?” rafe whispers, the crunchy sounds of leaves being crushed underneath his shoes making him soothe. almost, anyway. the dimness of the street lights only fighting against it. “cause i wanna show you something,” you repeat, hands wrapped in rafe’s sweaty ones — leading the way.
“yeah.. you see uh, you keep saying that but—” he halts, a small fluttering sound passing with a small squeal above him making him tense. “what the fuck was that?”
“look up,” you giggle, pointing at the small creature that flies across the sky. “is that a bat?”
you nod, humming softly as you lead him to a tree stump, sitting him down. “they're my favorite.” you confess, a tiny cheeky smile that rafe could barely see on your face, stars creating a very soft light. the oldest cameron chuckles softly, nodding and sitting you down on his lap — making sure you’re not too close to feel the bulge of his weapon. “you're my favorite.”
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v4mpgutz · 3 months
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⊹₊ ⋆ CUT & SEWN JUST FOR: anonymous
₊˚꒰🩰꒱‧ LACY BRALETTES : rafe cameron, in ward's office.
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⊹˚. ౨ৎ 𝟑𝐃, 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧
❝ i wanna see it in motion, in 3d. 'cause you know how i like it girl, 3d. ❞
warnings — nsfw, fem reader, soft-ish rafe, slight exhibitionism, established relationship, degradation, praise, use of the c word, fingering, no actual piv.
1,002 words.
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"c'mon baby," rafe caressed your arms gently as he had you backed up against ward's desk. all sorts of things that you and rafe couldn't care less about were sprawled over the hard wood.
"what's the matter, huh?" he teased with a smirk as he leant in to nip at your neck. "you were all over me before."
you frantically looked around ward's office, the windows wide open. the door wasn't even completely shut and rafe was here groping you in his father's office. "rafe!" you whined with panicked eyes, "ward could come back from golfing any minute!"
you watched as your boyfriend just licked his teeth, getting closer to your face.
"that just makes it all the more exciting," he cooed before gently biting down on your bottom lip as he pulled you into a searing kiss.
rafe pressed himself further into you, one hand running down your back before grabbing a fistful of your ass as the other tugged your hair slightly. he picked you up by the thighs and set you on ward's desk, hands moving to cup your face and deepen the kiss.
small moans spilt from your lips as rafe pushed his tongue into your mouth, licking at everywhere he could reached before pulling your body and manhandling you so you were bent over ward's desk.
"rafe—" you gasped as he reached a hand under your skirt, his fingers tracing over your clothed slit, slick with your arousal.
"fuck, sweets." rafe chuckled, his voice raspy from the prolonged kiss. "so wet for me. so eager to get this little pussy full, hm?"
you let out a whimper as rafe slid your panties to the side, his middle and ring finger running through your folds as he gathered your wetness before rubbing circles onto your clit.
"rafe!" you moaned, your whole body shivering at the sensation. it'd been a while since you both did anything other than makeout so you were extra sensitive. every soft or fast movement made you melt in his grip, his middle finger dipping into your entrance every time he made another circle.
rafe hummed and leant down to press a kiss to your shoulderblade, slipping his middle finger into your cunt. you shuddered as he curled his finger upwards, hitting the spongy, most sensitive spot inside of you.
"shit," rafe laughed as he worked his finger teasingly slow. "suckin' me in and i've only got one finger in there."
you couldn't help the way you clenched around him, wiggling your hips and pushing yourself back onto him as he fingered you. you let out a yelp when his free hand came down hard on your ass with a smack, soothing the redness with a rub.
"you stay still for me. let me do the work, huh? gonna be a good girl f'me?" rafe asked, lips close to your ear as he paused his hand movements.
"yes!" you whined and closed your eyes tight, your arms giving out from holding yourself up as he started rubbing on your clit again. rafe nodded in satisfaction before slipping another finger into your entrance, continuing his assault on your clit.
your fingers clawed at the desk as you let out soft moans, mouth shut through the way you chewed your bottom lip as though not to get caught.
the knot in your stomach grew increasingly tighter as rafe worked his fingers, your eyes rolling around at the pleasure.
"nuh-uh," rafe tutted and reached forward with the hand that was rubbing your ass. he grabbed ahold of your jaw and turned your head slightly so you could see his face. he chuckled as he caught sight of your teary eyes and the little bit of drool at the corner of your mouth.
"c'mon, you wanna cum?" rafe asked with a pout in false sympathy, "gotta make some noise or you're not gettin' anything, sweets."
rafe almost moaned at the way you tightened up with his words, you were clearly restraining yourself from pushing back onto him again.
not wanting him to take away your orgasm, you loosened the bite on your lip as let out any noises once again. moans, groans and whimpers all escaping your lips as your legs shook.
"atta girl," rafe grinned with a laugh and sped up his fingers. "such a good little whore for me, huh?"
you gripped the edge of the desk so hard your knuckles turned white, so close to your release. "rafe! mmh, 'm so close! gon— shit! gonna cum!"
your boyfriend didn't slow his relentless pace, starting to press down slightly on your clit as he rubbed. "i bet you were hoping we'd get caught this whole time, right? wanted my pops to see how i claim you? hm?"
you shook your head in denial before your whole body shook and you tried to lift your hips away from rafe as your orgasm hit.
"fuck!" you gasped as your pussy clenched and unclenched on his fingers, your cream coating them.
rafe groaned and kissed your neck softly, slowing his fingers down to help you through your orgasm as you squealed and writhed before him.
"s'too much, rafe!" you whined and he nodded, slipping his fingers out and moving his thumb away from your sensitive clit.
rafe laughed as he gently turned you around, kissing your lips and forehead. he hummed as he blotted your sweaty face with a tissue.
"you okay, baby?" rafe asked, his eyes softer now.
you gave a nod as he pulled you up into his arms, hugging you close to his chest as you stayed seated on the desk.
"good," he smiled softly. "let's get you cleaned up, huh baby?"
"what about you?" you asked him with a frown, feeling slightly guilty as he was obviously still hard.
"don't worry about me, this was all for you. c'mon, let me take care of you, alright?" he cocked a brow and you knew not to question him so you nodded in agreement.
"there's my good girl."
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RIVER'S BLURB: i'm a little rusty when it comes to full smut oneshots but this was so fun to write jansndnd, i hope this SOMEWHAT meets expectations. thank you for the request !! <3
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Text
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ p!link
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frat!rafe x tutor!reader after a long day of lectures, both of them sexually frustrated from not being able to see each other since they had phone sex the other night. “fuck, ‘just want to taste you so bad already,” he’d pin you down on your bed, wasting no time in putting his hand in your panties. you’d pull him in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue, desperate to feel him where you need him most. “please,” you whimpered, a gasp leaving your lips when he ran his middle and ring fingers between your folds.
“fuck, you’re soaked for me already?” without warning, he’d insert his fingers, thrusting into you while his palm rubbed against your clit. “god, rafe!” you took hold of his wrist, your thighs closing around his hand while he mercilessly curled his digits, stroking that soft spot inside you that made you see stars. rafe separated your legs, wearing a smile as he watched your eyes roll back, your breath stuttering as his touch became too much for you to handle. “don’t cum just yet, i need to feel this pretty pussy fluttering around my cock first.”
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chxrryhansen · 3 months
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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Concepts 6/50
Character; Rafe Cameron
Kink; Non con (DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT)
Dialogue; “Look at the mess you made.”
Requested by; Anon <333
As always, this blog contains 18+ content only, your media consumption is your own responsibility, THIS IS A DARK FIC!!! Please be warned, this fic is NON CONSENSUAL. Read at your own risk
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
You stirred in the silky bed sheets, yawning as you woke from your nap, attempting to raising your hands to wipe away the crust.
Except they wouldn’t move.
You shot up, slowly becoming more aware of your surroundings as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. Each of your wrists were cuffed to opposing ends of a king size bed. The cuffs restraining you jingled as you attempted to pull your hands free.
How could this have possibly happened?
Your memory jogged as you recalled being at a party, hosted by a random boy you hadn’t even met. A party you didn’t want to attend in the first place but of course caved at your best friend’s pleads and bribery to pay for your drinks for the night- and the next few.
You remembered being blackout drunk, no longer caring about manners you had crawled into the first bed you found. Falling into a deep sleep.
As your eyes adjusted you noticed a tall male frame standing at your left. Due to the darkness of the room you couldn’t quite make out the face of the mysterious figure.
“Wh-Who are you?” you trembled, your body shaking in fear.
“Spread your legs.” the male commands, ignoring your question, his voice stern but oddly familiar. Your breathing picks up as you begin to panic, your hands flailing as you begin to scream “Help! H-“ He rushes forwards, his large hand smacking over your mouth essentially silencing your cries.
“Scream like that again and i- i swear to god i’ll fuckin’ kill you.” he growled.
“You got that?” he pressured once again, you nodded your head at a rapid pace, believing his threat to be true.
His hand fell from your mouth as he straddled you from above, his thick hands pulling up your dress and pushing your panties to the side. He groaned at the sight of your pretty pussy, soaked for him already and you didn’t realise it.
Before you knew it, the mystery man had removed his boxers and began to palm his cock in his hand. His thick shaft leading up to a swollen pink tip. His balls big and full of cum, ready to empty inside you.
Without warning he pressed his bulbous tip against your hole and thrust forcefully into you. Bottoming out in a single thrust as you began to scream at the top of your lungs.
His hand once again covered your mouth, only this time his other hand pinched your nose alongside it. Oxygen left your lungs faster than you imagined, your body thrashed, legs kicking, arms flailing. Still impailed on his fat cock, your pussy clenched in desperation of breath making him let out a long moan as he smothered you.
Just as you felt your body still and you begin to roll back he removed his grasp. You gasped desperate to fill your lungs with as much oxygen as you could get.
You were cut off as he began to thrust his length into you, your walls sucking him in. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, always knew you were a whore.” he sneered as you cried out. You begged him to stop, telling him he didn’t need to do this and that you promised not to tell anybody which only seemed to entice him further.
Suddenly you felt a knot in your stomach begin to tighten “No no no.” you choked, desperate to not cum all over your rapists cock.
You couldn’t hold in your moans of pleasure as you squirted, your juices coating his cock and his abs. “F-fuck look at the mess you made, dirty fuckin’ girl” he grunted.
His hips stuttered as his warm seed began to fill you up, hot ropes of cum spurted into your cunt, leaking out due to the amount of sperm he emptied inside of you. You quivered and shook around his length, coming down from your forced high.
He leaned over you, flicking on the light switch beside his bed.
You closed your eyes as the bright light made them sting, slowly blinking as your pupils shrunk down and your vision became less blurry.
Your face fell further as you recognised the figure infront of you. Your squirt still dripping down his body and his cum still leaking out of your own.
“Cmon’ don’t look so shocked you slut, it was only a matter of time before i found you.” Rafe chuckled as he watched your eyes begin to fill up with tears once again. How did he find you?
How does he always fucking find you.
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rafesapologist · 10 months
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ↴
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.
genre: angst, smut, fluff
warnings: contains mature themes, violence, substance abuse, alcohol use, addiction, sexually explicit scenes, assault (non-sexual)
↪ one
↪ two
↪ three
↪ four
↪ five
↪ six
↪ seven
↪ eight
↪ nine
↪ ten
↪ eleven
↪ twelve
↪ thirteen
↪ fourteen
↪ fifteen
↪ sixteen
↪ seventeen
↪ eighteen
↪ nineteen
↪ twenty
↪ twenty one
↪ twenty two
↪ twenty three
↪ twenty four
↪ twenty five
moodboards:
right where you left me
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
→ SEQUEL: the setback
© rafesapologist 2024
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sematarygirls · 2 months
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frat!rafe being so obsessed with you to the point that he kept his radio tuned to the campus radio station just so he never missed your voice.
                   ౨ৎ
you started working at your campus' radio station to earn a little extra money and have something to do to pass the time, but it quickly became the thing you looked forward to every day.
for a couple of hours every day, you were in control. your voice and your favorite songs were broadcast throughout the campus and into the homes and cars of anyone in town that had tuned in to your college's station.
you loved the feeling of control after a whole school day of being in class, under the guidance and control of your professors. of course, you loved class. you had to, after all, you were paying to be there, but you loved your job even more.
unbeknownst to you, head of the most prominent frat on campus and notorious womanizer, rafe cameron, also loved your job.
he'd stumbled upon it by accident. he had been giving one of his frat brothers, johnny, a ride, and the boy started fiddling with his radio. rafe hated when people fucked with his stuff, and right when he was about to yell at him to knock it off, he heard your voice.
you were introducing some song he didn't know or care to know, but your voice alone captivated him.
"don't touch my shit again," he gritted his teeth, glancing over at the boy to make sure he wasn't going to change the station again.
"sorry, man," johnny replied, holding his hands up in defense. the unfamiliar song began playing, and he frowned. it wasn't exactly something he would willingly listen to or enjoy, but he let it play, wanting to hear your voice again when it ended. "what is this shit, dude?" his friend laughed.
"shut the fuck up," rafe replied, ever the aggressive type. he tapped the steering wheel impatiently, willing the song to be over, so he could hear you again.
from that day on, he never touched the radio, and he memorized the station number in case someone else touched it without his permission.
every day, no matter where he went, he was always listening to the campus radio station waiting for you to come on.
he had no way of knowing where to find you, so listening to your voice and laugh as you passionately talked about your music was the only thing he had.
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drewsprettygirl · 1 month
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love story . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁💐
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౨ৎ inspired with the song love story by indila !!
౨ৎ s1! rafe x fem! pogue! reader
౨ৎ angst, mentions of drugs, drinking, & fluff
౨ৎ takes place in midsummers - rafey baby so handsome there
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you met him at that state he was - relying on barry and his coke to calm his senses down. soon along, you became friends. he was your rock, and you were his.
of course - his sister, sarah had seen the unmistaken look in her troubled brother’s eyes, of which ones were dilated & jittery by the euphoria had turned serene and much more.. adoring?
no. that didn’t sound like the big bad rafe everyone knew and had on their books.
he had changed - because of a stupid girl. a stupid pogue. surely, he wouldn’t let that affect his family’s name! but god, he was wrong.
he’d grown fond of you, come to think of it - you weren’t like “your people” as he said it. he’d seen her as a sweet and caring person— something he lacked in his life.
so as you and him exchanged glances at the country club— you were a bartender, just serving him a glass of wine— you couldn’t help but be drawn to the man who sat across you in that little taupe barstool.
“i haven’t seen you here,” the blue eyed boy stared at you up and down.
“i just started a couple days ago.” she replied softly.
it only started like that. what could possibly go wrong?
it wasn’t until 10 months into it. midsummers was nearing— rafe had invited you to be his plus one. he was shy- a little bit jittery- and he handed you a flower.
“for me?” she said in awe, looking at the peony he had gotten her.
“yes you.” rafe had replied— coldly. he didn’t want to come off like a pussy, as his friends top and kelce called him for being too shy.
apart from you being a pogue, he had no issues. you were the first one he didn’t get into bad terms with, which surprisingly shocked you. —and shocked him too. he didn’t expect to fall hard, head over heels for you.
that led to him, on the following night of the next friday—waiting.
you had doubts, being a pogue in an all-kook annual party, you had your dress ready, hair done, but what else was there to it? you couldn’t do it. you couldn’t bring yourself to walk to your car to drive to figure 8. you couldn’t let yourself ruin the cameron name. you would never make an attempt to embarrass your lover. you were just a bartender— not some silverspoon-born girl.
he had a rose in his hand, constantly pacing across the room, his hand running through his hair, pushing it back. he felt himself getting hot, the camerons were about to come out, so where were you?
surely— you wouldn’t blow him off; he thought.
was he crazy? he kept checking his phone, looking at your contact. he checked your photos on his phone gallery, trying to calm himself down.
“rafe!” rose, his step-mother calls, telling him they have to go out of the door since the party’s starting. he runs a hand through his hair, and tries to breathe calmly.
the whole party, he had expected you to be with him. he had expected your hand in his, your arm linked with his, and your head on his shoulder. but where were you to be found?
he quickly typed on your contact;
—where are you sent 7:22
you immediately see the notification pop up, you were crying, you couldn’t bring yourself to text him back. you were breaking his heart and yours too.
it had been minutes since he sent that. no text backs?
—y/n sent 7:31
—why aren’t you here?? sent 7:32
—i thought you were coming w me sent 7:32
—i even bought you a damn dress sent 7:32
—y/n answer right fucking now sent 7:34
that was all it took to piss rafe off. you were blowing him off? he was furious— almost crushed a glass on how hard he was gripping it.
the whole night, he couldn’t sleep. what were you doing? all he could think of was you. does she even like me? does she still care? he sees you everywhere.
the next day, he checked his phone. no reply. he decided to drive to the country club in which— you were working at.
he was surprised to hear you didn’t come in this morning, supposedly calling in sick. lies. he thought. he knew you had a brain on you, and that you were quite smart in times like these. but right now, it wasn’t helping.
for the past week—he had been driving to the country club everyday, checking on you. which was not left unnoticed by ward.
“the fuck is on my credit card bills, boy? all from the country club?” ward asked rafe furiously.
“it’s just drinks.” rafe answered defensively, not wanting to talk to his dad anymore.
“put it on your card! not mine. you have your own card for that—“
“look, dad— the money—“
“what about the goddamn money!? you out of cash, rafe? see. this is what happens if you don’t bother to be responsible, to think! you don’t think, rafe! and to say i was the one who raised you.. god.” ward answered hastily, leaving the room with him massaging his own temples.
rafe was outraged. this whole week had turned for the worse, you were supposed to be there for him. but where were you?
his frustration brought him back to his worst behaviors. he spent his days at barry’s. snorting the white lines of fine powder.
“country club. what’s gotten you all knees for the c dust?”
“hard week, barry. don’t remind me.” rafe answered angrily, just wanting to get over it.
“i hear you haven’t been seein’ your girl, huh?”
“—so what!?”
“chill, chill, you’re actin’ out. she’s a pogue.”
“i haven’t seen her in a goddamn week. i don’t fuckin’ care if she’s one. she’s everything i think of, fuck.”
and that led to him, driving to your house at the cut. hearing a knock on your door, your mom calls you to open it while she was in the kitchen.
“rafe—“ she spoke softly, until she got cut off by his lips on hers. he smelled of beer. had he been drinking?
worried, she pulled him up to her room secretly. looking around to see if anyone was near them or could hear.
“have you been drinking?” she asked sadly. what had she done? all of that because of her? only a lazy nod was what she got from him, quickly laying him down on her bed.
“i’m sorry rafe.”
“what happened y/n? i thought you were gonna come and you’d be my date— i even bought you a fucking dress. a goddamn dress because i wanted you to look gorgeous that night. and what do i get? a dead rose and an absent woman—“
“i’m so sorry, please i promise you i am-“
“promise me.. everything’s alright between us baby.” rafe spoke softly with a drawl, grabbing your hand and intertwining it with yours as he stared at the ceiling. the lights were off and his only source was the one coming from the moon out the window, that cascaded your features.
“i do,” she replied with her voice slightly breaking. she leant down to hug him tight. she felt so sorry for him.
“i just- i dream of you. i- i fucking want you with me y/n, baby, stay with me, but i don’t- i don’t know how to love..” “fuck. i’m such a mess. dad’s on my ass again about the money- then you go fucking vague!”
“rafe, rafe, i’m so-“
“no, stop! just please- stop saying that.”
“i didn’t want- i couldn’t go anymore. i’m not rich, rafe. i’m not a kook for crying out loud! i just- i just didn’t wanna embarrass you,“
“no, baby, don’t say that,” he said, wrapping her lips in his.
“i’ll give you everything. i’ll give you gold if you don’t care, i’ll wait for you, i don’t give a fuck if you’ll ignore me- i’d even kill for you, baby.” rafe muttered.
she only looks at him with tears in her eyes, him wrapping his arms around her, wiping her tears away and kissing her.
“don’t fuckin’ pull shit like that on me again, mkay?” he hummed against her lips aggressively, pulling away.
“i’m sorry,” she sighed, feeling a tear stab my eye. “i just—didn’t want to try to fit in to be someone i’m not.” “i’m so sorry rafe,” she softly sobbed in his arms.
“shh, shh, it’s just you and me baby, i love you.” he whispered, rubbing your back.
“—i love you too.” she replied. nobody would possibly believe it but, love makes a fool of the kook king
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ 💐 ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ .
by drewsprettygirl 𝜗𝜚
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