#rafe cameron fanficton

[undercovercameron]

only you

summary: a midnight meeting is never off the table for him.

notes: i cranked this one out like two two weeks ago but i didnt get around to editing it... apologies! this is a continuation of my same person, same mistakes fic, as it concerns rafe with a gf and the reader being highschool fwb with him. features a masturbation kink, dirty talk, and a whole lot of nostalgia! enjoy my darlings, and dont forget to watch the fuck out of obx 3 (i finished it an hour ago and its 2:00 am my time and im not sure). feel free to talk to me about it ;)

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 2213

It’s nearly 3 am when he shows up at your house, mind all over the place, and parks in your driveway. He knows your parents won’t be mad seeing his truck— they can’t help but love him. He slams the driver’s door shut and jogs around to the backyard, breathless in the cooler night air. The grassy shore two hundred or so yards from your house ripples with the harsh wind of early summer storms, and he wipes a hand at his forehead. It’s still hot. 

Rounding the corner, he sees the metal basin that curves around one of your basement bedroom windows, and drops down onto the gravel that lies at the bottom. 

You barely register the sound, fast asleep in your bed when he glances in at the dark room. 

He digs around for a second in the gravel and finds the familiar curve of the window key and quickly unlocks the latch. Throwing it back down, he uses his arms to push up on the handle and slide it far enough so that he can crawl in. 

You turn onto your back in your bed, and he nearly smiles at how you look. So calm, yet so stressed with your eyebrows drawn. But Rafe just hops into your air conditioned room clumsily, shoes quiet on the carpet, and nearly tips over into your desk. He turns to the window and closes it quietly. 

He takes a moment to listen for any movement in the house. He knows your parents go to bed before midnight, so they’re sound asleep—he’s mainly worried about your brother. He was such a cock block in highschool. 

You move in the sheets again and his attention is drawn back to you. You’re so peaceful. Oh, well. 

“Y/N,” he whispers, and reaches to shake your leg. You lick your lips and burrow deeper into your pillow. “Y/N!” He raises his voice, glancing at your locked door. 

“Hm,” is all that comes from your mouth, and your eyelids twitch. 

“Fuck,” he curses to himself. Fine. Grabbing one of your ankles, he drags you to the foot of the bed. 

“Hey!” You croak, startled awake, and blink furiously around. “Oh.” You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. There’s a handsome man at the foot of your bed.

“Hey,” he says, looking down at you, and his hand finds your shoulder. You’re dressed in soft shorts and a skimpy tank top in an effort to remain cool in this summer heat—it makes his heart thump against the wall of his chest.

“Why’re you here?” You ask, voice still groggy, and your skin erupts in goosebumps where his fingers move. 

“I told you I’d come today.” 

“Yeah, during the daytime.” Your eyebrows draw together and you push up onto a hand. “Not in the middle of the night.”

“Do you want me to leave?” His eyes stare down at yours. You look over him, liking the way those jeans and flannel shirt look on him. The crickets chirp outside, and you hear a branch moved by wind brush the side of your house. His hand migrates and a thumb rubs at the skin of your stomach, nudging the hem of your tank top up. 

“No,” you finally settle on, and he steps closer to the bed. 

“Okay,” he murmurs, and dips. Your lips connect, soft against soft, and you shiver. He smells like the sun and that car freshener he keeps in the glove compartment. His hands find your hair, cradling your head, and your body prickles at the touch. It’s so late, and he’s so warm— you just melt into him. You grip at the sides of his shirt and fall back onto your bed, taking him with you. 

He grunts, pulling away from your mouth for a second, and follows you up the bed as you move closer to the headboard. He looks huge like this.

Your legs come together.

He bites his lip and with a hand on your knee moves them back apart. You settle with your shoulders against your pillow, and he leans down, between your legs once more, and kisses you. 

“Rafe,” you mutter into his mouth, and he hums wordlessly in response. Your body is so soft and nice when you arch up into him that he forgets about anything besides you. You grab at his hand at your waist and drag it up your body, and when his thumb brushes your hardening nipple the crotch of his pants tightens. Fuck. 

He pushes his knees into your bed, keeping your legs spread for him, and straightens. His large hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt, and he shrugs it off. The material of the shirt underneath nearly rips with how quick he takes it off. His skin is shiny and strong in the moonlight, and it takes all of your mental strength to not lean up and kiss all over his chest. That would mean you’re desperate to feel and touch him— and you’re definitely not. Between your legs definitely doesn’t ache terribly when he unbuttons his jeans. 

“Please.” You lean up to him, sliding a warm hand around his shoulders, and bring him back down with you. He makes a noise when he feels your fingernails scrape his skin, but your mouth is back on his, so what reason is there to complain? His nose brushes your cheek when he pulls away to tug the tank top strap off of your shoulder, and you shudder in the cold air. 

His thumb nudges your nipple back and forth, making your blood rush in your ears as your chest heaves, and he bows to catch it in his mouth. Rafe sucks, pink lips perfect just for this, and you arch up into him. The scent of body soap washes over him, and he just breathes you in. So sweet. He curls an arm around your waist, forcing your skin up against him, and you make a noise of contentment. 

He mouths at your breast until he has you panting up into the night air, eyes closed, and then moves to the other. Your eyes open briefly and you slide a hand across his head, feeling his warm scalp and soft hair under your fingers. 

He hums into your skin, nipple caught between his teeth, and you nearly cry out. But you hold back, wanting to save it. He pulls at it again, wanting to hear that pained noise you know he loves, and your heart skips a beat. You suck in a breath. 

“So responsive,” he murmurs into you, and his gaze briefly moves to your face—his dick hardens even more. 

“I’m impatient, Rafe,” you huff, petting his hair, and squeeze your thighs around him. “Please.”

“Needy,” he says more to himself than you, but pulls away to get a hand at the waistband of your shorts and move out of the way so he can rid you of them and get to what he’s actually been thinking about all day. He throws them over the edge of your bed and crowds you against the headboard again, mouth insistent upon yours as his fingers find your slick. Your thigh jerks when his pointer finger draws a line up your folds, and he just hums into your mouth. His thumb pushes into your clit, demanding, and his middle finger slides easily in. You clench around him, head thrown back into the pillow, and your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fucking wet,” he grits out through his teeth, digging his face into your neck. Your skin ripples with goosebumps at his hot breath on your throat, and he slides another finger in. 

You’re so warm, so tight, so wet around him— it makes his heart smash into the cage of his ribs. It’s just like high school. You, sweet and perfect for him, and him, brooding and in the palm of your hand. He tried to not let you know that too much, though. Can’t let people around him know that he cares. 

“So perfect.” His teeth nip the soft skin on your neck, and you grab a hand at his forearm, guiding him faster. He accedes, knowing what you want, and slips another finger in. You tingle and curve up into him, unused to the stretch, and the breath is stolen right from your throat. 

His thumb slides off of your clit when you push it away. Your fingers replace his thumb, and he just tries to breathe. You know every fucking avenue to getting him to cum in his pants, and he’s really trying to avoid that outcome. 

Your noises become higher in your throat, whinier, and he feels you start to pulse around him. His fingers push even deeper, going the perfect speed, and then you’re shaking and trying to both get away from and get closer to his hand. 

He grabs at your hip and keeps you in one place, hand continuing, and you grab at him frantically. 

“Too much, Rafe,” you cry, neck cramping at the angle you’d stretched it to for the longest time, but he continues on. Your blood is pumping so fast, so hard in your body, and the rush of orgasm fades into numb pleasure that makes you pulse around him. 

“Come on, baby, I know you can.”

Your mind calls memories to the surface— memories of him pushing you past your limit, making you scream, cry. You loved it, and he only continued when you were nodding and shaking for him. Any inkling that you weren’t into it he was off of you. He was no stranger to felonies, such as drug distribution or grand theft auto, but he didn’t dare do anything that was a question of consent. Off the table. 

“Your fingers are so—so big.” You ramble on, talking of good things only like the size of him and how he feels and tastes and smells, and his hips twitch where they're pressed to you. Fuck. 

“So close, Y/N,” he pants into your ear, hips rolling steadily into your thigh and pelvis, and you feel his dick jump against you. “You’re so close.”

Your torso shakes with the effort and tension in your muscles, and he bites into your pillow. 

“I fucking—,” you start, but you fling your head back into the pillow before you can finish. He really wishes he knew what you were going to say. “Yes, yes, yes—fuck!” You chant, and your hips twitch where they meet his hammering hand as you cum onto his fingers. He continues on for a little bit, loving the feel of you, but pulls his fingers out. They immediately push into his mouth and you take the moment to pull yourself together. 

Sweat sticks the sheets to your back, beading at your forehead too, and you’re sure your face is flushed red. The room is undeniably hot, filled with the hot breath and energy palpable in the air. You’re sure it smells like sex, too. 

Rafe catches your jaw in his hand and tilts you up for a kiss, lips hot and smooth against yours. As he settles into you again, your hand finds the crotch of his pants. He breaks away immediately, cursing and looking down at your fingers. 

“Touch it,” you breathe, eyes locked on his. His wide, clear, blue eyes. “For me.”

Rafe’s large fingers push yours away and dig into his underwear, and his eyes close when his palm circles the tip of him. You look up at him, hands coming to your chest, and you cup your breasts. His eyes follow your fingers as they pinch your nipples. You back arches, and his hand around his dick pumps faster. 

“You’re so good for me,” you say, as breathless as you can manage without sounding like a corny phone-sex operator, and his head cants back at your voice. 

“Shit,” he gasps, mouth hanging open when he looks down. “O-Only you.” It’s more to himself, but your chest swells. 

“Yeah?” You ask, and sit up. Your hands find his waist and his torso, and you lean up so his mouth is inches from yours. “Not your girlfriend?”

“Fuck,” he exhales, cheeks pink, and his eyes close when you trace his chest with a finger. “No. Not her. Never.”

You just hum, pleased, and curl a hand around his own to slow his hand. His hips twitch, fucking himself between your two hands, and his mouth opens in a “fuck” before he’s cumming right into your bare chest.

“Christ, Y/N,” he says, panting, and covers the upper half of his face with his forearm. His knees ache. 

You rise clumsily from the bed and stumble into your bathroom, returning with the hand towel. You wipe at your chest and throw it back into the bathroom, careless. 

“Are you staying?” You ask, nearing him, and lean one knee on the bed. He curls an arm around your waist and tugs you closer in the darkness, lips pressed to your temple. 

“I don’t think you could get me to leave your bed right now, sweetheart.” He smells like sweat and the remnants of cologne, and you breathe him in.

“I’m counting on it,” you whisper, and kiss him square on the mouth.

[thecameronchronicles]

The Debt~Part Ten

TW: Language and smut; dominance and submission, derogatory language and mentions of alcohol and drugs (all overage, however). I do not own any characters but ask that you do not publish this fanfiction without my permission on any other platform. Please and thank you. 

SUMMARY: You decided to call on some ‘old friends’ for some help to take down Ward, only to uncover that the one who needs the most convincing will take a special kind of persuasion…

Word Count: 3200

The Debt: Part Ten

“Absolutely not…” John B’s voice was firm yet kind, even still, your attempts to remain polite did nothing to keep your expression from forming into a scowl. 

“Come on!” You began to whine, “You owe me…” You intrigued him with your answer, a scoff leaving his full lips, as your words also managed to pull the attention of two other pogues, Kiara and Pope, who hesitated the construction of their s’mores to offer their undivided attention to you. 

“You’re comparing being the getaway driver for a weed run to blackmailing one of the most dangerous people in all of the outer banks?” He reminded you, seemingly speaking the words aloud more to question your sanity than for validation for himself. As you answered with a nod, you couldn’t help but notice JJ climb out of the hot tub stationed just out of view to where you had positioned yourself, his hat spun backwards to keep his golden trusses from his face while he pulled a beer to his lips, remaining amused by the entire interaction. 

“Ward deserves this for everything he’s done!” The passion came through more desperately than what you had intended, yet you remained unapologetic through your outburst as you were aware you were well warranted for what you had to endure just on this night alone. 

“I think you’ve been drinking a bit too much of the ‘kook juice’...” JJ attempted to lighten the clearly dense mood while Kiara shot him a look of disagreement before leaning forward to you with her elbows supported on the bends of her knees. 

“What exactly IS your plan?” She questioned, immediately skeptical. 

“That’s what I kind of need some help with. But I know I just need to get into his office alone for a bit…find something to use against him. I’m sure the narcissist keeps some ledger or something-maybe a file on his computer…”

“So what exactly do you want from us? We don’t really run in the same crowds…” Pope interjected, toying with the torn fringe of his chair while awaiting your answer. 

“Because JJ has worked almost every place between The Cut and Figure Eight…Kiara can walk around unnoticed, and Pope-well, let’s be honest, he’s smarter than all of us put together…And John B, you have a way of convincing people…being a distraction maybe…”

“Well now you’re just flirting, cupcake…” JJ winked as the  sound of ruffled terrain at your back sent your expression to shift once realizing Rafe was now behind you. You didn’t even have to run for confirmation as their reactions in accompaniment to his strong cologne had done this for you.

“What the hell is HE doing here?!” John B summoned an answer from you as everyone now stood on their feet as if either prepared to run or defend their homestead, all while you pulled your own hands up in surrender. 

“We need your help-”

“WE?” JJ was not only surprised by this confession but also clearly upset, maybe even a tad jealous as he scowled at Rafe, who was almost sheepishly at your back before being rivaled. He would mend his insecurity by wrapping his arm around the curve of your back, as if staking some sort of claim, as this simple touch managed to set you on fire. His shamelessness in such an innocuous touch was somehow erotic as he was unabashed to possess you in every and any way he could-finding peace in your presence. 

“I really thought you were smarter than this…” Pope critiqued with guilt, retiring into The Chateau, followed by Kiara, as both of them looked back to you one final time as if to verify what was witnessed between you and Rafe. Although easy on the eyes as a unified couple, you could not be any more different; oil and vinegar that somehow managed to make it work-or at least were naive enough to believe you could. 

“Come on, baby…” Rafe attempted to pull you back to the direction of his waiting truck as you fought his grip and remained in place. 

“Look…I know how this sounds okay and I’m not stupid to ignore the risk. But people like Ward deserve this-'' JJ's eyes flashed to Rafe as if silently referencing him by the use of your own words-to which he was ignored by you as you continued your rant. 

“He got you fired from every job after you dated Sarah in high school-” You looked to John B, who still pined for the middle Cameron sibling, a torch burning synonymous to the fire behind his eyes at the mere mention of her name. 

“And he was the reason your dad couldn’t get a job anywhere in either of the Carolinas-” You explained to JJ, who turned his head away to conceal how your words affected him. 

“He got Hayward’s blacklisted from every party after Pope beat Sarah out of being Valedictorian and went out of his way to tarnish The Wreck, almost making them go bankrupt, after Kiara stood up against him for being hypocritical and an ‘environmental sadist’, if I can remember her words correctly…” The entire group silenced as they took in the depth of your words. 

“And that is what he’s done in public!” Your chest clenched at the thoughts regarding Rafe, fueling your ambition once again. 

“He has this influence over too many people-I’ve seen it for years and just thought it was because his name was behind half of the businesses and buildings, but it’s because everyone is terrified of him! But if we do this…You took a step closer to the remaining pogues as you continued, “We could ask for ANYTHING…No more shitty shifts for Kie…no more college for Pope-”

“Come on, we all know he’s thriving there.” JJ muttered as he was ignored once again as you looked back to John B. 

“No more side jobs just to make ends meet, no more being stuck here, no more being controlled by him and people like him.” Rafe shuffled uncomfortably, well aware he was among those you spoke of, yet he was silent as he understood it was well deserved to have this spoken about him. 

“Even IF we considered it…I don’t trust HIM-” John B responded as Rafe let out a heavy exhale, hands folding in his pockets. 

“Maybe you should wait back in the car?” You hinted towards him as he wouldn’t even allow you to finish your request before he challenged you. 

“I’m not leaving you here with THEM…” 

“Don’t worry, we’d take REAL good care of her.” JJ spoke somewhere between coquettish and vulgar, pushing for Rafe to reveal his true feelings of those from the wrong side of the tracks.

 “Maybe she’s trading up-” His consistent need to be borderline flirtatious, even seductive, is simply what made JJ Maybank who he was. It was the same way Pope was academic, Kiara was motivated in rebellion, and John B was the voice of reason behind the majority of their plans. But now, his expression was darker than how you’d usually witness-almost protective…

“Enough! Haven’t you ever heard the phrase, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’?” JJ looked at you with annoyed confusion as John B bowed his head into a slow nod. 

“What the hell does that mean?” JJ pushed for a further definition as you released a fatigued breath. 

“We have something in common…a hatred for him…But we need your help.” John B and JJ looked between one another before looking back at you, teetering on that line between being convinced and being indifferent. 

“He has hurt everyone at one point or another and I’m sure he’d jump at the chance to do it again, okay? This is our chance to make him accountable for it…”

“By being as bad as him?” Kiara suddenly returned, a shadow now wrapped around what was once a bikini clad molasses hued physique. 

“If not for the morale of it…then how about a cut?” Rafe narrowed his eyes at your back with the comment of a detail not discussed between the two of you. 

“One million each?” The space was made silent by your offer. The hot tub bubbling in abandon, the string lights sporadic through the trees above, even the bugs harmonizing beneath the untrimmed grass wasn’t enough of a distraction to your words. But Rafe’s voice would be the one to speak first as he lowered towards your ear. 

“How much are you planning to ask for exactly?”

“Ten.” You answered, dividing it unfairly between the group while offering you and Rafe a larger portion as you had no alternatives where Pope had his academia and Kiara had her family. You and Rafe only had each other and you needed a fresh start away from Ward to be able to remain that way. 

“There IS a lot of student debt…” Pope added, emerging from the shadows. 

“No more shifts at the wreck…a LOT of charities that could be put towards…” Both Pope and Kiara now looked to the remaining two who had yet to comment. 

“No more charters…”

“No more fixing kook’s cars for half the pay…” JJ remarked, slowly nodding his head. 

“I’m in.” Everyone now looked at him in disbelief with your expression lying as the exception while your lips curved to a grin of approval. 

“I’ve seen him make shady ass dealings at the club and arguments with people who I haven't seen since…so…to get him out of my hair AND the benefit of a bit of-'' He began to rub his fingers together to symbolize cash. 

“It WOULD mean my parents wouldn't have to worry about spring break season being their best out of the year…” Kiara continued aloud as Pope would finalize his idea, “Like I said…no student debt…” They now all looked to John B. 

“Well then…” He spoke your name with a soft tone of annoyance that was synonymous between siblings, as he lifted his beer in initiation. 

“I suppose we better talk strategy-Any ideas?” The space drew quiet.

“I can make a distraction…” JJ spoke proudly while playing with his lighter as Kiara quickly forced it closed as if acting the part of a parent he was perpetually denied, even in his early twenties. 

“If my dad sees anyone of you, he’s going to know something is going on-” Rafe added, the cool timbre of his tone sending volts of electricity down your spine as it allowed you a sense of serenity to be reminded of how he stood in support at your back, despite how crazy this all seemed. 

“What if I distracted him?” Kiara offered as JJ winced. 

“Not a chance in hell, Kie.”

“What if I did?” The words left your lips before you could stop them as Rafe was suddenly at your side, your wrist in his grasp. 

“Fuck no!”

“If anyone else tries to get close to him, he’ll know-you just said it-”

“YOU’RE not an option.” You paused for a moment, touched by his worry, but deciding the lesser of two evils was the way to go for an overall success of this loose forming plan. 

“The jerk from tonight said it…he is going to let everyone have a chance with me-” The pogues looked at one another in cold silence, exchanging glances that validated their reasons for helping you. 

“Not happening!” Rafe chimed, shaking his head and carrying his fingers to his temples for half a second, before returning his grip to you. 

“This was a mistake…get your ass in the truck-” Before you could even attempt a rebuttal, he was already slipping into the driver’s side of the vehicle, waiting for you. 

“Whatever we can do to help, we will…” John B added as you had been abandoned by Rafe, feeling his eyes blazing into you from only a few meters that somehow felt contradicting in both breathing down your neck and being completely out of sight. 

“But we all have to be on the same page for this to work-no loose ends…And Rafe…he’s dangerous-”

“I know. But…if you can’t do it for him…”

“We’ve got you.” JJ validated. “But he gives one crooked look and-” JJ suddenly produced a gun as Kiara quickly corrected his recklessness as you moved into the direction of the truck and they made their way inside the chateau. 

“Rafe-” You began, prepared to either grovel or scream at him if it would get him to see your point as your freedom was so close you could nearly taste it. 

“Don’t-don’t give me those fucking puppy dog eyes, okay?” He looked at you for the first time in pure anger, nothing soft lightening those usual sapphire irises. 

“I mean it! This isn’t some game or some joke! I shouldn't have agreed to it for even a second! We’re leaving-” But with the attempt he made to draw the stick shift in reverse, you collected the keys in your palm. The shift of any compassion on his face draining to your thievery, you spoke before he could further his aggression towards you. 

“I want a life with you, Rafe…Or at least a chance at one…You know we can never have that. You are his son, he isn’t going to just let you leave-”

“You’d be surprised.” He muttered as you reached for him, only to feel him pull away from you. It was then that you realized you wouldn’t persuade him with words. Instead, you knew what was needed to lead him into further convincing. 

“Rafe…” You leaned into his side, hand riding up his thigh, as his eyes collected towards you with attention but remaining annoyance. But even in your name spoken beneath his breathless warning, you were too devoted in your own task to care of the repercussions of disobeying him or the eyes of any nearby. 

“This is how it could be…” You teased, “All these little moments we’d have…Without having to be at dinners and fundraisers…So much time that I could make you feel good…” His hand wrapped dominantly around your wrist. 

“Not likely, sweetheart. Not even those naughtly little hands can-”

“I wasn’t thinking about my hands…” Your fingers gingerly pulled him from his pants, exposing his erection to the unkind air around you. 

“You didn't get enough earlier?” He countered, eyes darting to your lips as you wrapped your hand slowly around him, bringing the sensation of skin-to-skin to set him alight with a breath interrupted by your touch. 

“I never do…” His hand suddenly took hold of your hair, wrapping it as it knew well with his makeshift ponytail made of his thick fingers. 

“If you do this right now…I don’t care who the fuck sees you, yeah? You’re gonna keep going until you make me come-” You slowly nodded as his second hand moved to your jaw. “And you don’t get to…no touching yourself or writhing in your seat,” He pulled your hair back further, thumb now brushing your bottom lip until returning to this hold. 

“You only get to come when I touch you-”

“Yes.” You released your agreement on your exhale. 

“Then convince me, baby…” His eyes followed you as your gaze remained as locked as you could before your angle made this impossible. But in what was lost for sight was mended by feel as you captivated him within your mouth at a tender pace. You took time to romanticize his cock, adorning each inch concealing every vein, until you would choke on his extension. 

“Take it.” He ordered as you nodded, relaxing your throat once being familiarized with him once again, pushing beyond your limit. Once you were comfortable enough with your nails eating into his bare thighs, orchestrated by his grip in your hair that needed little guidance from you having learned precisely how he liked to be pleased, you bobbed in the perfect combination of sucking and teasing while twisting his base.

“So good.” he praised between clenched teeth before you began to lower to his full extensions of his groin, toying with him. 

“Deeper.” He commanded, raising his hips as he chuckled once feeling your tears dampen his thigh. 

“Crying already, baby?” You were silent but thoroughly motivated as his fingers wrapped within your hair intensified once again, this time holding you in your gag, before finally lifting you for a breath. 

“You look so fucking pretty around my cock…”

“I want you to come, Rafe…I want to make you come-” His eyes danced over your expression for a moment, taking in the details he was responsible for; the gloss over your swollen lips, the tears on your cheeks, the desperation of fresh air. It was as if you were a new wonder of the world revealed just for him. 

“I want to make you feel good-” But suddenly, he left the vehicle, leaving you to watch him round to your side of the car. Without the chance to question him, you were pulled to the ground and bent over the seat. 

“I thought you said-”

“I need to know you want me-” His hands were frenzied over your clothes, removing only what was necessary for penetration, before he teased his dripping cock throughout your soaked folds. 

“I always want you…” You groaned as you felt him smirk over your shoulder. 

“Prove it to me again, sweetheart.” Immediately thrusting his depth into you, you clutched the seat before you, a victim to his relentless thrusts. The way his fingers ate into your hips was euphoric in accompaniment to the moans that only endorsed you to ignore the pain caused by him having stretched you out once again.

“Come with me-”

“But you said-'' You tried for clarification as he pulled you against him enough to where one hand came beneath your shirt, shameless to your pebbled nipple as the other slipped over your clit. 

“Don’t fucking question me or I won’t let you come.” You bit the insides of your lips to keep them sealed. 

“I don’t care if Maybank or anyone else from here to Figure Eight hears you, I want everyone- JJ, John B, Pope-the asshole from tonight to know…I just want to come inside you-” The fear of what this could potentially mean in terms of negligent contraception, a larger portion of your mind craved to please him. With the pill already scheduled to be taken the next morning, you nodded in agreement. 

“I want you to-”

“To WHAT?” He probed your lower lips, now lifting his secondary hand to your neck to hold you in place. 

“I want you to come inside me, Rafe!”

“Louder baby, I can’t hear you over my own pulse-”

“Fuck!” You only managed to utter at the cusp of your orgasm as he folded you back over the seat, continuing to fondle your sensitive clit through your climax as he found his own a few seconds later. 

“Shit baby, you’re gonna make me come!” The sporadic jolts expelling him into you, sent him in a mix of grunts, groans,and curses, before he turned you to face him. 

“Okay…” He spoke with lust blown eyes that held the ability to hold the grounds of convincing you for a ‘round two’, technical round three if totaled for the night, as you heaved before him, pleasantly numb in your over-stimulation of your husband yet again. 

“But we do this MY way…”

Part 11 Coming soon! Be sure to tell me what you think and let me know if you want to be on the taglist! Hope you enjoyed!

Taglist: @hopebaker​

[jiara-ao3feed]

by Makayla_Marie05

What if Sarah and John B get a dog right away? This is my opinion of how season 2 of Outer Banks should have gone. This is my first story so don’t be too critical. Sorry for any grammatical errors but I hope you enjoyed!

Words: 1986, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Outer Banks (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Sarah Cameron, John B. Routledge, Wheezy Cameron (Outer Banks), Sarah Routledge, Alaia Routledge, Kiara "Kie" Carrera, JJ Maybank, Pope Heyward, Cleo (Outer Banks), Topper (Outer Banks), Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron, Rose (Outer Banks)

Relationships: Sarah Cameron/John B. Routledge, JJ/Kiara (Outer Banks), Cleo & Pope (Outer Banks)

Additional Tags: Outer Banks Season 2 rewrite, how i think it should have gone, John B and Sarah never fight after Ward dies, Mainly a John B and Sarah fanficton, JJ and Kie get together, I don’t really know how to tag, this is my first story, no hate please, read and review, Rated M for possible future reference, There is swearing, please enjoy