k.

💌🏹🧸

[novamiss]

welcome ! ⁺ ˳ ✿ .

your friendly tumblr girl 💌 💋❤️‍🔥

katie. 20 something. she/her. aries. writer. reader. ex-wattpad teen

masterlist

requests are open

⭑ all materials posted are mine, i do not give permission for my writing to be posted on any other website. pls & ty !!

divider from @cafekitsune

[novamiss]

also need to write some steve harrington because this season got me good

thinking henderson!reader & a mayfield!reader

[novamiss]

CONFIRMED: rafe & barry touch tips

[novamiss]

PLEASE! Come back😭

I miss reading about my royalty couple of kooks.😭😔

i’m coming back! i’m so sorry😭

[novamiss]

Mother come back you are missed dearly 😩

i’m sorry for being an absent mother😢

I went back to uni & it just took over my life but i’m sick over break & have been writing!

we’re getting some kook!reader backstory/ look into her family life, maybe some angst👀👀 & hopelessly obsessed rafe

[novamiss]

PLEASE!

Feed us. The public is starving.

I need rafe our kooky-sweet girl😔

sweet kook girl🥹 I love that

she is coming for ya & so is a lil angst…

[novamiss]

Hi babes 🥲 I just started your series and I think in in love???

Can’t wait for the next part!

omg thank you! next part is comingggg

been v scatter brained and writing like 3 other things this week

[novamiss]

she DEVOURED !!

[stillgotscars]

ts12 is called the life of a showgirl ts12 is called the life of a showgirl ts12 is called the life of a showgirl ts12 is called the life of a showgirl ts12 is called the life of a showgirl ts12 is called the life of a showgirl ts12 is called the life of a showgirl ts12 is called the life of a showgirl ts12 is called the life of a showgirl ts12 is called the life of a showgirl ts12 is called the life of a showgirl ts12 is called the life of a showgirl

[novamiss]

can’t believe she’s got me staying up till midnight to watch a sports podcast

[novamiss]

Can’t wait for the next chapter ☺️ I need to be fed

eeek me too - hoping to get it out to you guys before friday

it’s a slight filler chapter but we’ll see more of the kook friend group (and then the chap after that is kook vs pogue bonfire angst😈)

[sunsetmade]

Idiot Friends

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: She gets in a bad fight with Topper but Rafe is right there by her side.

Sunny’s Notes: Another one that has been marinating in my queue!

“You can’t even get your facts right!” Topper laughed, loud and careless, like he thought he was hilarious.

Her fingers clenched tighter around the red plastic cup in her hand, knuckles paling. “Topper, you’re not even listening to me!” she snapped, raising her voice over the music and the buzz of conversation.

Kelce snickered beside him, nudging Topper like they were middle school boys again. Topper grinned, raising his hand to slap Kelce’s in a dramatic high-five.

“Aww,” he cooed mockingly, tilting his head, “is the baby getting upset?”

Her chest burned. Embarrassment. Frustration. Regret.

The pit in her stomach twisted sharply. Her jaw tensed. Humiliation bloomed in her chest, warm and heavy. God, she should’ve stayed home. She knew this was a bad idea. The only reason she was even here was because Rafe had convinced her.

“Come on, please, baby? Just for a little while,” he’d said over the phone the night before, his voice softer than usual, smooth and warm in her ear. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Baby. He’d said it like it was nothing, like the word didn’t set her heart racing and her mind spinning. They weren’t dating. They weren’t even close to it—at least not officially. Just friends, she told herself. Friends who lingered too long after hugs, who shared quiet glances across crowded rooms, who texted until two a.m. about everything and nothing.

Just friends who flirted too much and stood a little too close when they talked. Friends who didn’t kiss or touch like she sometimes imagined late at night.

And now, here she was—standing alone in the middle of a house that didn’t feel like hers, surrounded by people who treated her like a joke.

“Fuck you, Topper. Really.” The words came out quieter this time, more bitter than bold. Her throat felt tight. She dropped her gaze to her drink and chewed at her bottom lip, trying to breathe through the embarrassment curling in her chest.

Topper didn’t even blink. He’d already turned away, laughing at something Kelce whispered in his ear. Like she was invisible.

Across the room, Rafe stood near the fridge, half-listening to one of his old college buddies go on about something. But his eyes flicked up—searching instinctively for her.

And when he spotted her, standing stiffly with her arms crossed and that tense look on her face, his jaw clenched.

His eyes narrowed slightly, flicking between her and his two idiot friends still laughing at her expense. His hand dropped from the countertop. His jaw ticked. And she didn’t know it yet, but Rafe was already pushing away from the counter, ready to end whatever conversation she was in, because something about the way she looked made his stomach twist.

Rafe didn’t hesitate.

The moment he saw her expression—that subtle drop in her shoulders, the way her arms wrapped a little tighter around herself—he pushed away from the counter and made his way across the kitchen. His strides were purposeful, weaving through the crowd with barely a glance at anyone else. His entire focus was locked on her.

She didn’t notice him at first. She was too busy staring down into her drink, eyes glassy with unshed tears that she tried desperately to blink away before anyone could see. It was stupid. She knew it was stupid—crying over Topper and Kelce like they mattered. Like they could really hurt her.

But still, her throat burned and her chest ached with the kind of weight only mockery can cause when it hits a little too close to home.

Rafe reached her and stepped in close, his presence immediately overwhelming in the best way—tall, warm, familiar. He towered over her, shielding her from the rest of the room without saying a word. Just being near him made her feel safer somehow. Calmer.

She glanced up at him, trying to play it off like nothing was wrong, but her eyes betrayed her—glassy and frustrated and shining in the low kitchen light.

Rafe’s brows drew together in concern, a subtle frown tugging at his lips. His hand came up instinctively, settling gently on her hip. His touch was grounding, not possessive—just a quiet reminder that he was there. That he noticed. That he cared.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice low and soft—just for her.

She let out a shaky breath, quickly turning her head away. “It’s nothing,” she mumbled, trying to sound casual, but her voice cracked slightly and her words fell flat. She hated how small she felt, how childish it sounded.

Rafe didn’t buy it. Not for a second.

He brought up his other hand, fingers gentle as they found her chin and tilted her face back toward him. His eyes searched hers, careful and patient, but firm.

“Hey,” he said, voice a little more serious now. “Tell me what’s wrong, sweet girl.”

His touch was light, but his gaze was steady—steady in that way that made her want to fall apart and let him catch her.

“She’s just being sensitive, man. I mean, nothin’ new—but y’know.” Topper chuckled, his voice dripping with smug amusement, like he expected Kelce to laugh along.

And he did. Of course he did.

Her jaw clenched, her hand gripping the bottom of Rafe’s shirt as a flush of heat crept up her neck. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way he said it. Like she was fragile. Like she was pathetic. Like being sensitive was some kind of punchline.

Her throat tightened, the sting of frustration and shame swirling hot behind her eyes. She was so sick of it. Of pretending it didn’t bother her. Of brushing it off like it didn’t stick to her skin long after the laughter faded.

She turned sharply, her eyes locking on Topper with a glare sharp enough to cut. He looked back at her, grinning like he thought she’d shrink under it.

“You know what, Topper?” she said, her voice steady but edged with something dangerous—something she didn’t usually let people hear. “Maybe I am sensitive. But at least I’m not a complete asshole hiding behind cheap jokes and high fives like it makes you interesting.”

Topper blinked, caught off guard, the smirk faltering just a little. Kelce let out a low “Oof,” under his breath, amused but suddenly awkward.

Rafe smirked giving her hip a light squeeze.

“You think you’re funny, but you’re just loud,” she added, her chest rising with every word. “You and your little sidekick act like you own every room, but all you do is fill it up with bullshit.”

Her voice cracked slightly at the end—not from weakness, but from finally letting the anger out.

Topper opened his mouth, but before he could get a word in, Rafe’s voice cut through the noise, low and dangerous.

“Maybe watch what you say next.”

The words weren’t loud, but they didn’t need to be. The way he said them—measured, razor-sharp—carried more weight than if he’d shouted.

He was glaring straight at Topper and Kelce now, eyes hard and unblinking. There was no trace of the usual smooth charm in his face. Just cold anger simmering beneath the surface.

Topper’s grin faltered. Kelce shifted awkwardly beside him, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting.

The air in the room felt different now—heavier, still. A few people nearby glanced over, sensing something had shifted. The tension hung between them like a wire pulled taut.

Rafe didn’t break eye contact.

He took a slow step forward, positioning himself even more firmly between her and the two guys. His fingers was now laced with hers—protective, steady. A silent promise.

Rafe continued, his voice a notch lower. “If you ever talk down to her again, we’re gonna have a different kind of conversation.”

Topper scoffed, trying to save face, but there was a flicker of something uncertain in his eyes now. He knew Rafe. Knew when he was bluffing and when he wasn’t.

And right now? He wasn’t.

Rafe turned back to her, his expression shifting the moment his eyes met hers. The sharp edge he’d had seconds ago melted into something softer—gentler—reserved only for her.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asked quietly, voice low enough that no one else could hear.

She didn’t even hesitate. Just nodded, her throat too tight to speak. The weight of the night was finally starting to lift.

Rafe tugged her hand gently, and began guiding her through the crowd. People stepped aside without being asked. No one dared say a word.

But just as they reached the front door, Topper’s voice rang out behind them, loud and slurred with bitterness.

“Don’t get mad at me just ‘cause you’re pussy-whipped for a bitch!”

The room went still for a beat.

Her steps faltered, but instead of flinching, she let out a breathy laugh and rolled her eyes. Of course. Topper only found his courage when backs were turned.

She dropped Rafe’s hand without a word, flipped him off behind her back—cool and calm, arm raised like a victory flag.

Topper sneered and Kelce nearly choked on his drink from laughing.

Rafe chuckled—low and deep in his chest. Proud. Amused. A little bit turned on (Not that he would admit it).

Before she could even turn back around, he slipped an arm around her waist, his hand flattening against her stomach as he tugged her gently against him.

The warmth of his palm through her top, the quiet rumble of his laughter against her back—it all hit at once, sending a rush of butterflies through her stomach so sudden she nearly forgot how to walk.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmured against her ear, voice full of something that made her cheeks heat instantly. “Let’s get outta here.”

She didn’t even try to hide the way she smiled as he guided her through the door and out into the night, his arm still firmly around her, like he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

By the time they reached his truck, the night air had cooled, but her skin still buzzed with leftover adrenaline. Rafe walked beside her in silence, his hand never leaving her waist—subtle, grounding, like he knew she still needed the contact.

She reached for the door handle, but before her fingers could curl around it, Rafe moved.

His hand came down on the door beside hers with a solid thunk, his other arm lifting to rest against the top of the truck, caging her in between him and the cool metal. The soft slam of his body against the door reverberated quietly through her back, and she stilled.

He was so close—his chest only inches from hers, the heat of him stealing the breath from her lungs.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low, serious again. Protective. “ ‘cause I will go back in there and knock his teeth in if that’s what you want.”

She smiled despite herself, letting out a small laugh as she leaned back against the truck, tilting her head up to look at him. His face was half-lit by the porch light, shadow and sharp jawline.

“I’m okay,” she said softly. “I mean, he’s an idiot, but… I’m fine. Thanks for saying something back there, though.”

Her voice dropped slightly, like she didn’t want the moment to break. Her fingers absentmindedly drifted to the hem of his t-shirt, brushing along the fabric and tracing over the faint outline of his abs. She didn’t seem to notice she was doing it—like touching him was second nature.

Rafe’s eyes dropped to her hand, then flicked back up to her face, a slow, crooked smirk tugging at his mouth.

“You’re hot when you’re mad,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His head dipped slightly closer, just enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek.

Her stomach flipped.

“You should yell at people more often,” he added, eyes dark with amusement—and something else. Something that made her knees feel a little weak.

She laughed again, shaking her head, but didn’t pull her hand away from his shirt. If anything, she moved a little closer, just enough that their bodies barely touched.

“Well,” she murmured, lips curling, “then maybe you should stop giving me reasons to.”

Rafe’s grin widened, eyes lingering on her mouth. And for a second, everything stilled—like the air between them had shifted into something warmer, heavier, charged.

Rafe’s eyes stayed locked on hers, his smirk softening just slightly—but the intensity in his gaze didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened. There was something unreadable in it, like he was holding back—like he wanted to move even closer, but was waiting for her to want it too.

Her fingers kept lightly tracing the fabric of his shirt, slow and idle, as if she didn’t realize how much it was affecting him. But he felt every movement like a spark. His breath hitched—just barely—but it was enough to make her look up at him again, eyes wide and curious.

He didn’t speak. Just tilted his head slightly, his forehead nearly brushing hers.

There was no one around. No music. No voices. Just the hum of the nearby streetlamp and the thudding quiet between them.

“I mean it,” he said, finally, voice rougher now, edged with something more honest. “When you stood up to Topper like that… I don’t know. I wanted to grab you and—”

He cut himself off with a breathy chuckle, biting down on the rest of the sentence.

Her cheeks flushed, heat blooming at the base of her neck. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to finish that thought or not. Probably yes. Definitely yes.

“Wanted to grab me and…?” she teased quietly, her voice a little breathless, but her eyes holding his now—steady, challenging in that shy, soft way she always had.

Rafe let his tongue run along the inside of his cheek, head tilting as he watched her. He inched even closer—so close now that her back was fully against the truck, and there was barely enough space for air between them.

“I think you already know,” he murmured, and God, the way he said it—low, playful, but deadly serious underneath—it sent a shiver through her spine.

She swallowed hard, eyes dropping to his mouth for the briefest second before flicking back up— hoping he didn’t notice.

He did.

And that flicker of her gaze? It made something shift in him. His jaw tensed, like he was holding back something fierce, and yet… he still didn’t move. Didn’t close the distance.

It was driving her insane—in the best, most infuriating way.

A breath of a laugh escaped her lips, soft and slightly shaky, and then—like she couldn’t take the pull between them anymore—she reached up and wrapped her arms slowly around his neck.

The movement was gentle but deliberate, her fingertips brushing against the warm skin at the base of his neck, and she felt his breath hitch against her mouth.

She pulled him in, just barely.

Rafe’s grin broke across his face in that slow, dangerous way he always wore when he knew he had her flustered. His hands found her waist, tugging her closer until there wasn’t a sliver of space left between them. Her back pressed to the truck, his body flush against hers, and everything in her body buzzed like electricity.

One of his hands came up, fingers grazing the edge of her jaw. His thumb brushed lightly over her cheekbone, tracing it in slow, thoughtful strokes. His touch was maddeningly soft—like he was savoring every second of it.

She tilted her chin up, eyes locked on his, and gave him a crooked little smile.

“You wanna kiss me?” she teased, her voice light but edged with breathlessness. Like the question was a joke—but not really.

Rafe’s hand stilled against her face.

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he dipped his head slightly, close enough that their noses almost brushed. His eyes dropped to her lips for half a heartbeat, then back to her eyes, like he was considering it. Measuring the moment. Savoring it too.

And then he murmured, low and close enough to make her shiver, “Mhm, I wanna kiss you so bad.”

Her breath caught.

That smirk tugged at the corner of Rafe’s mouth—slow, confident, and laced with something darker now. He didn’t say a word. Just reached up, fingers grazing her jaw as he gently tilted her face up toward his.

His touch was light, reverent almost, but there was nothing soft about the way his eyes locked on her lips.

And then he kissed her.

Not rushed. Not careless.

It was slow, intentional—like he was savoring it, like he was tasting something he’d been craving for far too long. His mouth molded perfectly to hers, and the moment their lips met, something in her chest gave way. She melted into him, sighing softly, her hands tightening around the back of his neck.

Her lips were warm and pillowy against his, yielding to him with every pass. Rafe deepened the kiss without hesitation, pressing her back firmly against the truck with his body. The tension that had been simmering between them all night snapped like a live wire.

His tongue teased her bottom lip, and she parted her lips for him, breath catching as he slid his tongue against hers in a slow, deliberate motion.

A soft, involuntary noise escaped her throat—surprised by the heat of it, the sheer intimacy. Rafe groaned quietly in response, his hand slipping down to her waist and tightening there, fingers digging gently into her side as he pulled her impossibly closer.

The world outside disappeared—gone. There was only the heady heat between them, only the delicious friction of his body pressing against hers, and the wet, rhythmic click of their kiss echoing in the quiet night.

He kissed her like he had time. Like there was nowhere else he’d rather be than right here, kissing her breathless against his truck, under a halo of streetlight.

And she let him—completely undone by the way his lips moved with hers, like he already knew exactly what she needed.

He kissed her until her knees felt weak—until the night around them blurred, and all she could feel was his mouth, his hands, the weight of him pressing her into the side of his truck like he never wanted to let her go.

Then, slowly, he pulled back just enough to breathe, his lips brushing against hers in the space between kisses. Their foreheads rested together, and both of them stood there for a second, chests rising and falling, breath mingling—stunned by what had just happened and how badly they both wanted more.

Rafe’s thumb swept along her cheekbone again, slower now, more tender than teasing. His eyes stayed on hers, dark and unreadable, but so full of something that made her stomach twist in the best way.

“You okay?” he murmured, voice low and husky, still catching his breath.

She nodded, lips parted, her voice barely a whisper. “Yeah… more than okay.”

A soft smile curved his lips—something real, something vulnerable beneath the heat.

He leaned in again, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was softer now, but no less intense. This one lingered. Like he didn’t want to stop tasting her. Like he couldn’t.

His hand slid down from her waist to the small of her back, his fingers pressing into her there as he guided her closer. Her body fit into his like a missing piece—warm, pliant, wanting.

“Get in,” he whispered against her lips, opening the truck door without looking away from her. “Before I change my mind and keep you out here all night.”

She laughed breathlessly, stepping up into the passenger seat, her eyes still fixed on him. He shut the door with a quiet thud, then walked around to the driver’s side, every movement controlled—but she could feel it. The tension still clung to him. That slow burn hadn’t cooled. If anything, it had deepened into something hotter, heavier, hungrier.

He climbed into the driver’s seat, shut the door, and glanced over at her.

Her legs were pulled up slightly, one hand resting on her thigh, fingers still trembling faintly from how much she wanted him. Her lips were kiss-swollen, eyes dazed.

He leaned back in his seat, exhaling through his nose, running a hand through his hair to calm himself down—but his gaze slid right back to her, dark and heavy with unspoken things.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, more to himself than her.

She turned toward him, tilting her head, that small, teasing smile back on her face.

“Guess we’re even then.”

Rafe laughed, a low, rough sound, and reached over to lace their fingers together as he turned the key in the ignition. Forgetting all about Topper and the stupid argument. But the way his thumb stroked along her hand as they pulled out of the driveway… told her this night wasn’t over.

Not even close.

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[novamiss]

I LOVE this !!

[novamiss]

ditched & devoted- wasted material

summary: a day of sun, sea and a shirtless Rafe Cameron is all you could need but it starts off on a rocky foot when you finally come face to face with Sarah again, your (ex?) best friend. Rafe is not letting it ruin his one chance with you.

pairing: best friend's brother rafe x fem!reader

previous part next part

words: 3.7k

It was Saturday. You were going on a date with Rafe Cameron. If someone told you that just a month ago, you would think they’d lost their minds and if someone told your 13-year-old self that, she’d be jumping for joy. You expected to feel nervous, waited for the nausea to trickle into your stomach, to feel the regret wash over you like an early morning wave but it never came. The tides stayed steady and strong. Instead of nervousness, excitement shadowed you in the days since you took Wheezie shopping. You’d already picked out your outfit by Thursday, told Mayci about it on Friday and now it was the day.

The sun was shining bright with only a few clouds lingering in the sky. You awoke to the usual sounds of a chaotic Saturday morning, your parents getting ready for Miles’ soccer game, the click of your mom’s heels; ones that she refused to switch for sneakers no matter how many times they got stuck, the deep tone of your dad’s voice as he called for Miles to hurry up and the stomps of your little brother clambering down the stairs. With the slam of the door, the house was enveloped in silence, a deep sigh of calm settling through the walls as you got up and started to get ready. You’d settled on a butter yellow bikini, molten sunshine clinging to you like a second skin - small enough to catch his attention but not too outrageous, nothing he hasn’t already seen before. You paired it with a light, linen shorts and shirt set and some mini brown sunglasses pushed up into your wavey hair.

Once in your car, butterflies swirl in your stomach as you tighten your grip on the wheel. You let out a deep breath and loosen your hold as you try to tame the flurry– it’s good nerves, the first date excitement, wanting to look cute, wanting him to think you look pretty. You don’t have to be scared, or worried – it’s Rafe. You’ve known him forever; you don’t remember a time before him. You know him explicitly, the good and the bad. And so, you make the familiar journey with a smile on your face, humming along to your usual playlist and when you get to Tanneyhill you don’t hesitate.

Rafe had been getting the boat ready all morning, he’d gotten up earlier than usually for the weekend, when the only sound echoing the halls was Ward starting up the coffee machine. He threw on a pair of basketball shorts and a random t-shirt before he made his way downstairs, he passed his dad in the kitchen grumbling a low “good morning” before making his way to the docks – leaving Ward with a coffee mug in hand and brows raised to his hairline. After an hour, the Druthers was refuelled, tidied and restocked with any drinks and snacks he could remember you liking. 

By the time he got back to the house, Ward and Rose were in the wind so he took his time getting ready – didn’t have to worry about his dad making a comment on the amount of water he was using. He freshened up his shave, before picking out his blue swim trunks and a striped t-shirt and sprayed a generous amount of his Tom Ford cologne – one you’ve complimented him on many times before. As the clock was ticking closer to midday, he felt his chest tighten with an unfamiliar sense of nerves. Rafe had gone on many dates, too many first dates to count but the big difference was, he has never been on a date with you. You, who’s haunted his dreams for as long as he can remember. You who’s always had his back, without question. You who has no trouble calling him out, reminding him when he’s being an asshole. You who’s also soft enough with him to let him change, and to notice it when he does. So that’s why his chest feels tight and his hands have been jittery since Wednesday – he’s waited his whole life for this one shot, and he refuses to mess it up. With a deep breath he grabs some beach towels from the closet and jogs them over to the boat, double checking that everything is in order one more time.

You walk through the front door of Tanneyhill, floating through like summer breeze and lightly call out for Rafe. You’d planned to meet here but when you see no signs of him, you shoot him a text to let him know you’re here, asking if you should meet him by the dock. The creak of the stairs draws your attentions and your head snaps up only to be frozen in place by a familiar blonde.

“Y/n, hey.” Sarah startles, stopping mid step on the staircase.

“Hey.” You hesitantly reply, a tingle of awkwardness making its way down your spine, dampening the flutters that had been running rampant all morning, like a damp towel on a fire.

“What are you doing here? Oh my god – did we have plans? John B’s coming to pick me up.” Sarah rambles as she starts to make her way down the stairs. Irritation prickles at your skin as you listen to her; she’d have to speak to you to make plans, even ones she forgets about. She was once someone who would drop everything for you if you showed up at her door, how could that change in only a matter of weeks?

“Oh no, I’m here for-“ You go to correct Sarah before a deep voice overtakes your own.

“Hey, you ready?” Rafe greets you as he walks through from the kitchen, eyes steady on you, with a lightness in his step. When he takes in your slightly rigid posture and how your eyes darted from the stairs as he walked in, his gaze travels to the steps and he scoffs as he spots his sister.

“You’re here.” He states blandly, making Sarah roll her eyes.

“I’m on my way out.” She retorts with a huff.

“Shocking.” He replies with a sarcastic drawl before he turns his attention back to you. “Ready to go?” Rafe asks you again.

“Yeah, I just wanted to give Wheezie these earrings – I’ll be two minutes.” You say quickly, giving his forearm a squeeze in reassurance as you rush up the stairs, not wanting to keep him waiting. You breeze past Sarah, shooting her a short smile before you disappear up the stairs. Rafe’s breath stutters for a moment at your warm, comforting touch and as your fresh, beachy scent lingers in your wake.

“What are you two doing?” Sarah questions as she stops in front of her brother, crossing her arms across her chest. Rafe lets out a huff, as if he’s already tired of this conversation.

“Going out on Druthers.” He dryly offers.

“Just you two?” She asks, her eyebrows furrowing and Rafe watches as disdain clouds her face.

“Yes, Sarah.” He drones, hoping his short answers will annoy her enough to leave – he isn’t quite so lucky.

“Why?” She demands, her arms tightening around her body.

“Why not?” Rafe shrugs, looking back to the stairs hoping you’ll appear.

“You’re not friends.” Sarah argues, narrowing her eyes at her brother – her distrust blatantly obvious.

“Well, I’m not trying to be her friend.” He turns back to look his sister in the eye, letting a small, boyish smirk work its way across his face as he watches her get more annoyed.

“Rafe, I told you- “

“No.” He swiftly interrupts. “You don’t get to tell me shit about her anymore.” He reprimands in a harsh, whispered tone as he hears your steps once again.

“I- “

“Okay, ready now.” You beam as you rush back down the stairs. Rafe quickly puts a smile back on his face, turning his back to the blonde.

“Let’s go.” He gently takes your hand, shocking you slightly, as he pulls you into the kitchen and away from where Sarah still stands wordlessly. You feel the urge to glance back at Sarah, to see if she’s upset, if she even cares but you keep your head staring straight and instead chance a glimpse up at Rafe. He keeps his hand still loosely holding yours, as you peer up at him and watch him attempt to school his expression.

“That was… frosty.” You try, his head darts to you and his blue’s meets yours and his shoulders unwind.

“Sorry, I didn’t know she was here.” He softens, giving your hand a light squeeze.

“No, no it’s fine. You guys just seemed kind of tense when I came back.” You gently pry.

“It was nothing.” He dismisses but he catches your slight frown so he quickly adds. “It’s just the usual with me and Sarah- nothing to worry about.” He flashes you a grin that quickly melts away any of your concerns and brings you back to the moment.

Rafe leads you down to their dock and as you step foot onto the wooden slates, he intertwines your fingers and shoots you a smile, like he knows the effect he has on you – that he hopes he has on you. He holds your joint hands up, supporting you as you hop onto the Cameron’s yacht, and he makes quick work of untying the mooring lines. He jumps onto the boat behind you, and gently places his hands on your waist from behind to usher you to the helm. Your senses are overrun by his presence; his strong, warm hands encompassing your waist, his signature scent of vanilla, tobacco and spice, his broad chest pressing into your back. You feel your cheeks pinken and you thank your lucky stars, he can’t see your flustered state. He slides his hands from you as you enter the cabin and he makes his way to the steering wheel.

As familiar with it as riding a bike, Rafe effortlessly sails you away from the house and deeper into the water. With no real destination in mind, you make mindless, idle chit chat as he decides where to moor for the day. As you talk, the sun is blazing down on you both, causing you to slide your own glasses down from your hair and look over to see Rafe squinting against the sun, sweat beginning to bead at his brow. He is too focused on steering to pay it any mind, so you grab the sunglasses that are hooked into the collar of his t-shirt and place them on his face, he sends you a beaming smile in thanks and struggles to pull his focus back to the water. As you get more comfortable and the sun rises further, you shrug your oversized shirt off of your shoulders, draping it across the couch, leaving you in your bikini top and shorts. When you turn back to him, you catch Rafe eyeing you. You bite your cheek to try and stifle your smile as you quirk a brow at him when his eyes stay firmly on your form. He sends you another smile as he rubs his hand against the back of his neck, his t-shirt straining against his biceps. 

“You want a go?” Rafe asks, nodding towards the steering wheel, swiftly changing topics from his ogling.

“No, I’m good just watching.” You tease, pulling a light laugh from him as he nods in acceptance. He gleams under your attention as he can feel your eyes on him instead of the island – it is not often that you are alone together, there’s always another friend, another family member and he’s held on to every moment he can with you but now he’s been gifted your undivided attention, and he's not going to waste it.

He manages to steel his focus on the water, until he’s reached his set spot, the one he knows gets the best view of the sunset and drops the anchor – ready to enjoy the rest of the day with you. Just you. 

He guides you out onto the deck, where you are stunned to see your usual chair, the one you shotgun whenever you and Sarah or your larger group of friends go out on the boat, is already set up with a beach towel and bottle of water, and another chair mirrored beside it.

“Had it all planned out, huh?” You grin at him as he stops at your side.

“Yeah, what’d you think this was?” He smirks, nudging you over to your spot. 

You both get comfortable, stripping off until you are just in your swimwear and lay out on the perfectly placed sun-beds. Rafe sits himself up slightly, resting up on his elbows, body turned towards you.

“Is this weird for you?” He asks, removing his sunglasses so he can see you clearer.

“What?” You ask, mimicking his position, your body slightly tilted in his direction.

“This.” He gestures to you both.

“You know, it’s kind of weird how normal this feels.” You admit, pushing your sunglasses into your hair again so you can meet his eye. “I guess I didn’t notice how flirty you were with me, because this feels pretty normal.” You teasingly add, making him smile.

“Doing some of my best work and it was wasted on you.” He jests with a scoff.

“Half the island would kill me if they knew.” You play along but Rafe only shakes his head.

“Nah, this is just for you.” He states like it’s simple, as he lays back on his towel. Like he hasn’t just taken your breath away.

And the rest of the day is just that, it’s simple but breath-taking. You lay out in the sun, for probably too long, just talking about anything and everything. You never have to worry about awkward pauses or tense tremors in conversation and when you get hungry, Rafe brings out an assortment of fruit and snacks he’d stocked away. A laugh or a smile is stuck to your face all day, your cheeks rosy pink from both the bliss of the day and the summer rays, but the glow? That’s all Rafe. 

He hasn’t been able to draw his eyes away, from your radiant smile, your soft, plump lips, the glimmer of happiness echoed in your own eyes, from the stretch of your torso as you lay out on the towel, skin already sun-kissed and freckled. He wants to trace every line, every freckle, memorise every crevice until he can recognise you in the dark. He wonders if your lips are as soft as they look, what they’ll feel like pressed against his own, how they’d taste, how’d you’d sound gasping against his mouth. He wants you unconditionally, and that has never happened to him before – he’s never felt this way. And it should scare him but when he looks at you, as your throw your head back laughing, he can’t find it in himself to be anything but happy.

“What are your plans for the rest of the break?” Rafe asks as he grabs a grape from the bunch, now sat upright and facing you.

“Not a lot – mostly hanging with the group. I basically want to be out of the house as much as possible.” You shrug. “Topper and Kelce were trying to get me and Mayci on the green so.” You trail off, looking back to him.

“Going to be a golf girl, huh?” He asks in a goading tease.

“More like a sit-in-the-cart girl but sure- if it will get them to shut up about it.” You roll your eyes playfully, smiling when you hear a huff of amusement escape him.

“How about we go? I can see how good your swing is.” He offers, miming a golf swing for effect.

“Please – You want to see how short my skirt is.” You retort with a scoff.

“Woah, I didn’t know there were skirts involved – but now that you mention it.” He lets his voice teeter off as he leans over to you, making you push at his chest with a slight giggle. He takes the opportunity to pull you next to him so you’re both sat on the same sun lounger, now facing each other as you sit cross-legged. 

“Kelce only wants us to go because he’s trying it on with Mayci.” You share, fiddling with the strings of your bikini to occupy your hands.

“What happened to Becca?” He inquires, taking one of your hands in his and mindlessly playing with your fingers.

“That flatlined real fast.” You shake your head. “See all the fun you miss when you’re being a big businessman.” You add in a tempting tone nudging him gently with your knee.

“One of the few good things about it.” He huffs in return.

“You mean that?”

“I mean… it’s just a lot of pressure.” He hesitates for a second, momentarily unsure if he should share more but when he sees your face so open and willing to listen, he can’t help but carry on. “Trying to live up to everyone’s expectations and prove myself. They all still look at me like I'm that 17-year-old that screws everything up. It’s harder than I thought I’d be.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” You try to argue but he stops you with a flat look. “No, I mean – the pressure yes, but you’re not a screw up and you never were. You were just figuring things out, if you can’t do that as a teenager, when are you supposed to? Sure, you may have made a few more mistakes, but we also have a hell of a lot more stuff at our disposal and not a lot of supervision, what do they expect us to do? Not throw parties in mansions and get drunk? Sounds kind of lame to me.” You reason, pulling his hand into your lap when you see his eyes flicker away from yours. You never want him to feel like he has to hide this from you, to feel ashamed - not for being a reckless kid, especially when he’s grown from it.

“Probably shouldn’t have driven my bike into Topper’s pool.” He winces making you let out an uncontrollable giggle at the memory – the soaked dresses, Topper’s pure joy turning into horror as he watched the pool tiles crumble like sand.

“No, but it definitely made for a good story.” You surmise, letting out another giggle before you calm. “You have changed though.” You add for good measure, meeting his earnest gaze.

“Yeah?” He bashfully asks. “That a good thing?”

“It’s not that you were bad before it’s just- I don’t know. You don’t seem as angry. I mean, if Sarah tried to date a Pogue as few years ago, he’d already be 6 feet under.” You point out.

“Alright, alright.” He drawls, slightly pulling away from you in jest.

“I’m kidding – kind of.” You wink, pulling him back towards you, missing his warmth.

“Yeah, well- turns out coke is bad for you.” He dryly retorts.

“You know, I have heard that somewhere.” You teasingly add is a faux thoughtful tone. You let the playful moment linger for a moment before interlinking your fingers with his. “I’m proud of you Rafe, really.” For a moment he’s taken aback, eyes flickering to meet your warm gaze and he feels the heat crawl up his neck making him duck his head slightly as he gives your hand a tight squeeze.

“Thanks.”

The sun begins to set along the horizon, painting the sky in a swirl of watercolour pinks and purples. The air starts to cool as the breeze carries the chill of the water causing goosebumps to rise across your skin. Rafe drifts back inside the cabin and emerges with a hoodie in hand, he holds it out to you and you accept it with a blushing smile. The fabric is a light grey and as soft as the blankets that lay scattered across your bed, you can already smell his cologne on it, probably woven into the threads from how often he wears it. You pull it on and he helps you tug it over your head, your vision momentarily clouded grey. When your head pops back out, you are greeted by his wide grin and his soft laugh as your hair scatters across your face. You finish pulling it down the rest of your body, his gaze lingering, watching as his hoodie swallows your figure, falling down until it stops at your thigh. When he meets your eye again, he gently brushes your hair back out of your face and out from under his hoodie. His hands pause, hesitating to fully draw away from you. You can see it in his eyes when he makes the decision, his hands moving to the joint of your neck, his thumbs gently tracing the line of your jaw. 

“This okay?” He asks in a voice close to a whisper. You nod gently, eyes not daring to leave his. He can feel your pulse pick up, feels the way you harshly swallow and the pink start to brush across your cheeks. He grins as he starts to lean in and your breath stutters. He stops a breath away from your barely parted lips, so close that as he moves his mouth to speak, you can feel the shadow of his lips grace yours.

“This?” he asks again in the same whisper, this one mixed with a slight tease. He might as well have shouted it as all you can see, feel, smell is him. Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.

Instead of answering him, you tilt your face up and stretch up onto your toes, capturing his lips with your own in a gentle kiss. You place your hands on his waist for balance and you can feel his moment of shock, before his grip on your face fastens and he draws you in closer. Your hands press firmly into his stomach grappling for the solidity to remind you that this is real, this is really happening. You let your fingers slide up his abs, feeling them clench at your touch, exploring up his chest and over his shoulders as he pulls you closer until your chests are pressed together, his lips never parting from yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, not letting him stray as the kiss deepens and his hands fist the material of your hoodie at your waist – at his hoodie, bunching it up until his hand lands on your bare waist. You pull apart slowly, taking a moment to breathe as he rests his forehead on yours. His hands clench on your waist as your eyes flutter open and he murmurs out softly.

“Fuck.”

[novamiss]

not me having to google boat terms for the next chapter😭

should have had them date at a bar gd

[novamiss]

Do you have an idea of how many parts your ditched and devoted series will have?? I’m like so in love with it and barley read series so you def put me on 🙂

I’m not too sure yet, I think def 10+ parts so still quite a few to go- I don’t have a definite end in mind yet

I’m glad you’re enjoying it🥰

[novamiss]

just so you all know, I love a he fell first and harder trope - we need more men who yearn !!

[novamiss]

I’m really in love with your series Ditched & Devoted I cannot wait until the next part 🫶

thank you so much! and very much back at you, everything you write is golden 🩷

[novamiss]

ditched & devoted- when did you get hot?

summary: shopping for a midsummers dress is looking a bit different this year but playing dress up with Wheezie may have been just the pick-me-up you needed - her hot brother may just be an added bonus

pairing: best friend's brother rafe x fem!reader

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words: 2.7k

The sun hadn’t long risen when you woke up on the following Wednesday. The air was just heating up as the Carolina sun reached its peak, throwing out gold and orange rays against the clear blue sky - it was going to be a hot one. A perfect day for shopping on the mainland especially as your usual boutique loved to blast the AC. 

You got ready as usual, adding enough make up to feel prettier while trying on clothes but not enough that you left remnants of your face on them. You threw on a summer dress, something breezy but still up to par for the high-end boutiques you’d be scouring later. You decided to skip breakfast as you could treat yourself and Wheezie to something when you were out, might as well make a whole day of it. You knew dressing up wasn’t Wheezie’s idea of fun so anything you could do to make it a bit better for her, you would. 

It was just past 10am when you got into your little silver convertible to make the short trek to Tanneyhill. You sped past familiar houses of friends, having made this journey enough times you could probably do it blindfolded and definitely could do it blind drunk (as proven on multiple occasions). Your hair flew across your face, the downside of having the roof down but you refused to have it up in summer, needing to make the most of the sun before a storm inevitably rolled in. When you pulled up, you noticed that Ward and Rose’s cars were already gone, likely at work or even more likely at the country club. Pushing your sunglasses up into your hair, you gave the front door a light knock before letting yourself in, old habits did die hard after all, the foyer was empty- the downstairs seemingly vacant of any Cameron life. 

“Wheezieee.” You sing up from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ll be five minutes.” You could hear her frantically yell back from her room.

You hum to yourself in reply, laughing slightly as you think you hear her trip, knowing you won’t see her for at least another ten. Taking your time, you slowly wander into the kitchen sitting down on one of the bar stools by the island, making yourself comfortable as you pull out your phone when the door to the backyard opens behind you.

You swivel to see Rafe coming in, clearly having just finished his morning swim and distracted as he doesn’t notice you right away, too preoccupied towelling off his short hair. The moment he walks in your eyes follow the water droplets running down his tanned, toned torso, thankful for his distracted state so he doesn’t see you eyeing his arms as they flex with the movement of the towel. It hits you suddenly – since when was Sarah’s brother hot?

You’re pulled from your thoughts when Rafe pulls the towel from his head and drapes it over his shoulder. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees you sat in his kitchen, perched daintily on a bar stool in yet another sundress that drapes across your thighs like it was sewn around you. He recovers quickly, blinking away his initial surprise as you smile sweetly at him.

“Hey...” He greets you, his confusion seeping into his tone as he makes his way further into his kitchen.

“Hey, taking Wheezie dress shopping.” You reply answering his unasked question.

“Right.” He nods recalling the dinner from last week. He reaches the fridge and grabs waters for both of you, sliding yours across the island. “You always dress up this much for shopping?”

“Got to look pretty otherwise all the clothes will look ugly - it’s science Rafe.” You playfully advise with a grin as you accept the bottle.

“You always look pretty.” He drawls, leaning his elbows on the island making himself closer to your eyelevel with a smirk pulling at his mouth. You feel your cheeks heat up at not just his words but also his stare, you watch his eyes drift lower following the pink flush traveling across your face. You drop your chin for a moment to recollect before meeting his eyes again, his smirk just that much deeper.

“I’m not buying your suit too, no matter how many compliments you give me.” You tease, leaning closer to him yourself.

“You’re not even the one buying.” He reminds you.

“You’re right.” You hum. “I’ll get you a Rolex in commiseration. All on daddy’s card.” You wickedly grin as he cringes, wincing away from you and standing tall.

“Don’t ever call Ward daddy - ever again.” He asserts with a grimace pulling a loud laugh from you, he quickly joins you as you nearly slide off of your stool.

“What’s so funny?” Wheezie asks, announcing her entrance making you both pause as the young teen eyes you both suspiciously.

“Your brother’s balding.” You faux gasp as you hop down from your seat and make your way over to Wheezie, closely missing Rafe’s towel as he swings it out to hit you. “And so young too, what shame. Let’s go Wheez.” You quickly link your arm through the teen’s, as you start to see movement from Rafe in your periphery, dragging her out of the house as she giggles alongside you.

The entire drive to the ferry consists of you singing along loudly to your girl pop playlist and Wheezie pretending she’s not enjoying it. The starting notes of a particularly risqué Sabrina Carpenter song filters through your speakers, you squeal attempting to quickly skip it but Wheezie catches your wrist before you can and shouts the lyrics at the top of her lungs making you both erupt into giggles for the rest of the drive.

Once on the ferry you both settle comfortably into a booth, happy to sit with the silence but also occasionally pointing out the different people scattered across the deck; guessing their jobs, their relationships with each other, why they’re not working on a Wednesday. On the mainland, you take Wheezie to your favourite little café buying both of you some breakfast and then an iced coffee for the road that you both leisurely sip as you window shop. Wheezie drags you into random game stores you both excitedly enter the book store before swiftly going into your separate sections – her the comic books and you the new fiction releases. Finally, you have to drag her, with only minimal resistance into the dress boutiques. Your first stop is one you thought she would like, aimed more for young teens but by the bland look on her face she was not feeling the dresses covered in butterflies and glitter. Your second stop was a new attempt to lift her spirits, a store mostly focused on elderly women and you both tried on some ridiculous dresses that looked more like table doilies than clothing and ended at your mid shins. Que the movie montage of you both trying on the ugliest dresses you could find and proceeding to cackle at each other. Afterwards you strolled into the main event, your favourite store, Wheezie’s eyes light up in wonder as she takes in the elegant patterns and sheer amount of colour littering the rails. You’re greeted by one of the workers, their eyes warm with recognition as you all get to work to find the perfect dress.

You all focus on Wheezie first, pulling different dresses from the racks for her to try while she mostly stares in overwhelmed wonder. You direct her to the dressing rooms to start trying some on, just so she can see what styles, colours, patterns she likes. She’s on her fifth dress and you can hear her mumbled complaint thorough the dressing room door before she quietens.

“Wheez, you okay?” You tentatively ask. Silence and Wheezie do not often go hand in hand.

“Yeah.” She quietly replies, so quiet you only just about catch it over the sound of the door unlocking. Wheezie gingerly steps out, not quite making eye contact with you as she stands in front of the mirror in the waiting area. She eyes herself wearily but with a small smile starting to lift at her mouth as she turns gently, letting the skirt of the dress swish lightly at her legs. The dress is deep green with splashes of red, pink and blue making up an abstract floral pattern. It is high at her neck and flows down beautifully with a diagonal hem that goes from her knees to the floor – youthful and playful enough for her age but also showing off that she’s growing, she’s not baby Louisa anymore.

“You look beautiful, Wheezie.”

“Really?” She tests, finally looking you in the eye.

“Really. This one is perfect – do you like it?” You question, wanting to make sure she’s getting it for her – not because you like it, or if Rose and Ward would approve.

“Yeah, I think… I really like it. I feel- pretty.” She decides, giving herself an assured nod as she looks at herself in the mirror.

“Because you are – you always are.” She blushes at you compliment but rolls her eyes all the same.

“Yeah whatever.” She dismisses as she quickly retreats back into the changing room. You breathe out a laugh to yourself as you make your way back to the shop floor – time to find your dress.

Once Wheezie comes back out, dress safely waiting for her behind the counter, she seems to have much more fun picking out dresses for you to try on; some outrageous that your mother would disown you for, others looking more like bridal gowns but you try them on for her-sake, letting her laugh at you or you laugh at her as her jaw drops. You try on a blue, floor length dress that is simple but elegant, one that she picked out, and as she sees you step out she lets out a small squeal.

“That one – you have to pick that one!” She excitedly exclaims, a beaming smile on her face.

“You think?” You ask as you eye yourself in the mirror, turning to see how the dress moves, how your body looks in the different angles and – you look good! Not just good but captivating, the dress accentuating your best features, the colour making your eyes pop and tan glow.

“I think you’re right. Look at you being a stylist, better watch out or I’ll tell Rose you actually enjoyed yourself.” You tease as you walk back to change.

“You wouldn’t dare!” She gasps, playing along. She watches you walk back into the changing room with a knowing look in her eyes. “Rafe is going to lose his mind.” She mumbles to herself.

You finally make it back to Tanneyhill and as you pull up Wheezie is rattling off question after question on how she should do her hair, what colour shoes should she wear, does she need to wear jewellery? Amusement swirls in your eyes as you gently calm her and follow her up to her room so you can help raid her wardrobe.

When Rafe arrives home after his meetings, he smiles as he sees your Porsche parked back along the drive. He waltzes in, drops his keys with a clank by the door but stops as silence welcomes him, seeing no sign of you. He starts up the stairs to his room, ready to wash the humid air from the day off, when he hears the soft tones of your voice floating out of Wheezie’s room, her door slightly ajar. It brings him back to all the times he would come home from school, work, a party to hear you and Sarah laughing and whispering secrets – your melodic laugh and gentle tone more of a soundtrack to his life than he realised until it stopped. 

He peaks through the small gap in the doorway to see his little sister sat in front of her vanity, you stood behind her curling her hair and pinning each section perfectly in place. He watches Wheezie talk enthusiastically about any and all thoughts that come to mind but your eyes are intently focused on her hair, flickering to her in the mirror occasionally with a kind smile, nodding along to whatever she’s saying. Rafe can’t contain the small lift of his mouth as he turns away to leave you guys alone, going back to his room.

“Ta-da.” You say as you step away from the younger girl’s hair, Wheezie stops mid-sentence to take in your masterpiece of an up-do, the girl's curly hair pinned up with small sections gracefully flowing out of it, and the front pieces perfectly framing her face.

“Woah. I am so not going to be able to do this.” She exhales turning her head side to side.

“I’ll take a photo – I’m sure Sarah or Rose can help you.” You assure, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“She’d have to be here to help.” Wheezie scoffs with a small pout.

“You can always call me and I’ll help too.” You advise her gently, not wanting to ruin her good mood.

“Thanks, Y/n. I actually did have fun today.” She bashfully smiles as she turns in her seat to face you.

“I knew it!” You jab pulling the girl into a hug as she whines. “I should get going, but I had fun with you too Wheez.” You add.

You’re down the stairs before you hear a deep voice call your name and you turn to see Rafe coming down the stairs.

“Hey, I didn’t hear you come home.” You greet him, taking a few steps back to the stairs to meet him halfway.

“You guys were busy, didn’t want to interrupt.” He waves off. “Have fun?”

“Yeah, it was really nice.” You beam. “Oh wait.” You pause to rummage through your purse before pulling out Ward’s card. “Here.” You pass it over to Rafe, he takes it before dropping it onto the side table next to him. You roll your eyes at his carelessness. “Well, I could have done that.” He shoots you a smirk in reply.

“So, you going to let me see your dress?” He drawls, his usual boyish air on at full force.

“You want to see my dress?” You blandly ask, knowing he’s never been one to care about that sort of thing.

“Well, you in it, yeah.” He corrects as his smile turns into a roguish smirk.

“Down boy, just have to wait like the rest.” You tease, turning away from him and his flirting- he can’t see that he’s made you blush twice in one day, his ego doesn’t need the inflation. 

“Alright, alright.” He settles, drawing your attention back to him. “What are you er- what are you doing on Saturday?” He questions casually.

“Nothing, why?”

“Thinking of taking the Druthers out, would be nice to have company.” He trails off, looking to you. Rafe subtly brushes his hands against the fabric of his shorts, before pushing them into his pockets.

“Yeah, sounds good, who else is- “ 

“No one. Thought this could just be you and me.” He states simply like he hasn’t sent your mind reeling. Sure, you’ve known the Cameron’s your whole life but the number of times you’ve hung out with just Rafe could be counted in single digits and even fewer were planned. But now that you’re thinking about it, you’re struggling to remember why – why haven’t you spent more time with just Rafe? You’ve always gotten along, he’s always been easy to talk to, someone you’ve divulged your secrets and feelings to without a second thought. You feel yourself nodding before you can think about it.

“Yeah, yeah. That would be fun.” You smile gently, feeling yourself already getting excited.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at your dock.” He grins, letting his hands fall back to his sides as he lets out a relieved breath.

“My dad’s having it extended so it’s out of commission. I can just meet you here.” You advise, stepping backwards towards the door again but this time not taking your eyes off of Rafe.

“Cool - it's a date.”